𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 ★ pedri gonzález

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣, olive

❝ darling, let's run. run from it all. ❞
⇄ ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹ ↻

I never thought I'd say this, but going on a run with Pedri González is much more fun than going alone.

Why? You may ask. First of all, we ran half an hour than I usually do but felt like we ran less, not having the notion of time.

Two, he knows Barcelona by heart. He knows all the best places and least crowded spots.

Three, he challenges me. I was really tired by the end of it while he seemed like it was just a child's game. Of course, I put up a face and pretended I could run for three more hours while I was actually almost going to pass out.

And finally, the weirdest and least expected one you'd think of is, he protects and looks after me. Whenever he'd be in advance he'd keep looking back for me, waiting. He'd always tell me to watch out in case of any bumps or trash on the floor.

We're walking back home right now, in complete silence. Well, we both have music in our ears but to strangers passing, complete silence with exasperated breaths.

"What are you listening to?" He speaks up, kind of spooking me for a second.

"Lana." I answer, right in the middle of Blue Jeans. "You?"

"You can't mock me." He warns me making me grin immediately. I am so gonna mock him! On the contrary of my words I nod my head in agreement. "And you certainly cannot tell Isabel." I nod again.

He takes his phone out of his pocket as we walk through the streets of the most beautiful city I've seen.

I haven't really appreciated how much the atmosphere around me has changed ever since I moved here. America always smelled like garbage. Here, I can actually smell fresh air.

And the streets are so beautiful. They hum with life, an eclectic fusion of diverse aromas from nearby tapas bars and the distant notes of a street musician's guitar.

Old stone buildings adorned with wrought-iron balconies stand witness to the city's rich history. A subtle breeze carries the laughter of locals enjoying their siesta, while the occasional whir of a passing bicycle adds a touch of contemporary charm.

And the best? Much less paparazzi's around here. They don't get near me anyway. But still, I can feel their weight off my shoulder.

He turns his phone on and hands it out showing me the song playing. The guy is literally listening to his own sister's song.

I thought he was listening to Taylor Swift or Kanye West and that's why he was so ashamed. Because either he was a huge lover boy or an ass.

Turns out he's just incredibly adorable. Second thing I never thought I'd say about Pedri González. I really want to mock him. And I will. But the fact that he's voluntarily listening to his little sister's music is absolutely precious.

However, there's no way I'm letting him know I actually think he's sweet. "I didn't know you were such a fan girl of your own sister." I'm smirking as I look up at him.

"I'm not just saying this because she's my sister, actually I'd be saying the opposite because of this fact, but the girl actually makes great music." He ignores my joke. Huh. He's starting to grow to me.

Well, fine. I can go without mocking him for a little. I remove my headphones from my ears and place them around my neck. "Do you know what inspired this song?"

He doesn't so that's why I'm bringing the subject up. His expression denies and tells me to go on.

"It started with us, — me, your sister and two of our friends, Maisie and Cecilee, you've met them — " He nods, recalling the night he met my cousin and a friend back in Canada which then lead to our night full of drunken sex. "making a joke song about me hooking up with an ex-boyfriend, but then we realized we were actually onto something. We were throwing the weirdest things in the air. In one of the choruses there's a part that sounds like an instrument in the background, but it's just Isa gradually screaming louder and louder." I tell him.

"I never knew that." He laughs.

"Yeah, your sister's writing inspirations are really something else." I chuckle along with him. She has a song with an awarded 'song of the year' just because of a sex dream about her and Pablo. But this story, I'm keeping to myself. He's already heard enough earlier about their sex life.

Nevertheless, who cares about her inspirations if the woman is one of the most successful pop artists of the decade at only twenty one? It's insane how big Isabel is at twenty one.

We continue the walk in silence. Each of us taking a glance at the other from time to time, pretending we don't notice when the other is looking but both knowing.

I think we can all agree that Pedri is fine. Fine is an understatement, I don't know where he got those genes but that man is mega hot. Isa is too, so maybe, despite their shitty personalities, their parents were pretty.

I'd like not to think of that though. I hate those motherfuckers and I haven't even had the opportunity to meet them. They're lucky they passed before I got to them.

Back to my initial thought, Pedri is not just hot. He's pretty. They're not the same thing. He effortlessly embodies a captivating blend of pretty and hot.

His eyes convey a depth that captures attention, complemented by a well-defined jawline that adds a touch of sophistication.

He has this warm smile that plays on his lips, radiating approachability it adds to his overall attractiveness.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is, fuck him, that man is hot and he knows it.

Once we're back at the house, we both realize none of us have the keys. I ring the doorbell and wait for either of the lovebirds to open while hearing Pablito's barking from inside.

We wait a good minute or two before Pablo finally opens the door. "Hey." He greets. "Where were you guys?"

I look down at my sports clothes that are covered in sweat and look back at Pedri. I think it's pretty clear where we were but if he asks a stupid question — yes, there is such a thing as a stupid question, no one can argue. — then he'll get a stupid answer. "Stripping club."

I roll my eyes as I walk past him, basically pushing him on the door. Pablo's such an innocent guy, I sometimes feel bad about my jokes. Then I remember they're amazing and brush it off.

I can hear Pedri's laugh as the two of them walk inside and clothes the door behind us. I'm about to go upstairs and shower but Pablito just jumped over me, begging to be caressed.

I squat down and run my fingers through the his fur, feeling the warmth of its soft coat beneath my fingertips. "Hello, little one." I use the doggy voice everyone used while talking to a dog. It's a natural instinct. He leans into my touch, his eyes half-closed in contentment.

I then stand back up and see Pablo and Pedri still stood at the door, talking. Pedri's removing his shoes he always keeps at the door, 'for emergencies'.

Since I've stopped caressing him, Pablito runs towards Pedri, wanting to be pet again. A dog's life is so easy. Eat, poop, be caressed, sleep and repeat. Literally their only purpose.

Humans should really stop calling them dumb animals because as far as I'm concerned, we're the dumb ones who literally give them everything while they just sit back and relax.

I'm headed upstairs, ready to get soaked in clean water and good smelling shampoo. As I take my first step up the stairs, I turn to thank Pedri. "We should do it again some time, banana boy." I interrupt his conversation.

He simply gives me a smile in agreement as an answer. I turn back around and continue to my destination. "But stop starring at my ass!" I smirk, disappearing into the next floor.

(A/N: hello luvs🥰 i hope u all spent a merry christmas. sorry another short chap but i'm having the worse writer's block so u guys are gonna have to forgive me. tolerate me for the next few days and i just know i'll get back on my feet. ily guys, spend a nice holiday❤️.)