Never Leave Again

whose voice is that?

I continue to search for Marc Ivorra as the league comes to a close and the club prepares to change the events and pain of last year. I don't know anyone from Bilbao, so it is considerably harder than it ought to be, and I am very close to hopping on a train and scouring the city myself. I want to find him. I really do.

It's the last home game of the season.

Clàudia and I avoid the topic of the future like it will strike us dead in an instant, and we silently try to savour this. It is unlikely that I will return to Sevilla to do much else than terminate my contract, but Clàudia is aware of my heart's allegiance. I don't think Barcelona is where I belong: not in my soul, not in my bones. She's starting to accept that, but we do not talk about it.

The kiss she presses to my forehead before we go onto the pitch to warm up is bittersweet; a plea for me to stay with her next season. I hate this sinking feeling, but I am starting today so at least my time here has been worth something. I am a lot better than I was before, and Jorge Vilda has already called me to break the news that I will be selected for the World Cup. "Why wouldn't I bring our next captain?" he said as I thanked him. "I am going to make you great, Talia."

Apparently, future stars must be wary of the coaches who tell them that. I know that Vilda is not a good man, and that his methods are far from pleasant – I have heard the horror stories from my teammates – but this is an opportunity I cannot afford to pass on. I don't tell Clàudia because I don't want her to think less of me.

My legs burn as I sprint for our final chance in Estadi Johan Cruyff. My final chance to score for this club, probably.

As the ball sails into the back of the net, and the crowd roars my name, I turn to the bench, grinning at Fleur as she cheers for me. The substitutes rush onto the pitch, seeing as the match has ended and we have won 3-0. I forget about how this is going to end soon. Just for a moment.

"I'm so proud of you," Clàudia tells me as we do a lap of the pitch after the trophy has been lifted and we have partied in the middle of the pitch, waving to the singing fans that still remain. Like always, I do not sign anything, but a few people want pictures with both of us. It's strange, but it is not unwelcome. I quite like the status of it all.

"I'm proud of you, too. You had a good season."

"We had a good season. Sevilla's mid-table because of you."

It's the first time she's mentioned it. I was starting to wonder if she had forgotten that I am here on-loan. "I guess," I reply, my modesty mainly just so she doesn't tease me for being arrogant. "What do you want to do now?"

"Oh, look!" She points at Alexia, who's talking to her family. "I bet they're all asking to meet Fleur, you know. Wanna go listen?"

"As if I can understand Catalan?" I remind her, but she is already dragging me over to that section of the stands. Alexia, when we arrive, seems more exasperated up close than her dramatic movements did from a distance, because now I can see the speed at which she hurries out her words to explain how Fleur has already left the stadium. Her hands fly about as they demonstrate the route in which she exited, and it's quite a funny sight to see.

"Pina, ajuda'm," Alexia huffs out as her sister laughs at her. I pull my– Clàudia back so that she can't, and Alexia's glare would be scary if I didn't find it so amusing. "Talia, por favor."

"What? I'm not doing anything," I tease as she shakes her head. "Why are you hiding Fleur from them?"

"I'm not!"

I tug on her jersey, pulling the blue and red material from Alexia's skin much to her irritation. "Where have you put her? Under here?"

"I bet she'd love that," Clàudia adds, as if to cause the utmost chaos in Alexia's life. It's way too entertaining to rile her up. "But, yeah, Ale, you really should introduce your mother to your girl–"

"Talia?"

My head snaps round to find the origin of the voice. My name shouldn't be spoken with such familiarity here, of all places, and it certainly wasn't a teammate because the tone matches none that I am acquainted with.

When I pinpoint it, I see Alexia's mother staring back at me. 

notes: 

i don't want to hear a peep about the length 

i'm hungover and it's for dramatic effect x

i'll get back on this band wagon eventually just bear w me 

ajuda'm = help me

thanks for reading!!!