Ona pov:
The World Cup final. I'm in the fucking World Cup final. I should be excited. Fuck I should be ecstatic. But I'm not. Yes I'm thrilled and proud of how far my team has come, especially under the circumstances we are under. But I'm playing against my girlfriend. My secret girlfriend. Only our close friends and family know. And what makes it even worse is I know how much this means to her. So if she loses, she'll break. She's the strongest person I know, but the loss will break her. And no, I'm not saying Spain will win, cause fuck, we're up against the lionesses. The European champions. We're the underdogs. Already losing a tremendous amount to Japan, everyone is believing that England has got it in the bag. And so it leaves me in a shit situation, and I don't know how to feel about it. But we will just have to wait and see.
Lucy's POV:
I fall to my knees with a thud. A loud croaky cry escaping me. We lost. We fucking lost. I wasn't good enough. Maybe if I went for that tackle, or passed the ball that time. Maybe if I was just a better player I wouldn't of let my team down. Wouldn't of let my nation down.
My face is now in the grass, as I lie flat on my front. The tears won't stop and every so often another sob leaves my lips. I'm a fucking failure.
Keira, my ex girlfriend, makes her way over to me and kneels down next to me, pulling me in for a hug. She knows how much this meant to me. And even though she is my ex, we are still good friends, still close. She knows and is happy about my relationship with Ona. Just as I am happy with her new relationship. She's one of my best friends, as I am one of hers.
"It's okay Lucy, it's okay." She says stroking my hair softly.
I let out another sob into her shirt.
"But it's not okay. We lost. All out hard work. Everything I've worked for, down the fucking drain."
Keira just holds me, letting my soak her shirt and mumble all my thoughts.
After a while she helps me up and brings me over to the group, where we have our team talk. Everyone is standing up, but I can't. I physically can't stand up. I sit down on the ground, leaning my back onto Keira's legs. She just continues to stroke my head.
I don't listen, I can't. I drown out the team talk and what Millie and Sarina say. I just let the tears fall. And they do. They fall and fall and fall.
After a while everyone walks off, just as the celebrations from the Spanish slowly die down. I'm left on my own until Keira walks back over to me and bends down.
"Would you like me to get Ona?" She asks.
Fuck. I forgot about Ona. All I can do is nod my head slowly and watch as she walks away, towards the Spaniards.
I sit on the ground for a minute, staring up at the sky. Wishing. Just wishing I could have a redo of this night.
I look over to see Ona with her medal, making her way over to me. The sight of the gold medal sends another wave of pain through me and I quickly stand up. Ona stops in front of me and gives me a sad smile. I just look into her eyes and sob, beginning to walk away. But obviously Ona knows better and follows me, wrapping her arm around my side.
"You played amazing bebé." She says softly.
I shake my head.
"Not good enough." I sob.
Ona sighs and pulls me over towards the seats. We sit down and I burst into tears. Why am I never good enough? We made it so far, so fucking far, but it wasn't enough. It's never enough.
"You were one of the best players out there tonight. No one could hardly get passed you. And to be able to watch you do that, while I played. That was amazing, and I was, am, so proud." She says sternly, like she needs me to believe her.
I look over at her, and her rubs her thumbs over my cheeks, trying to remove the tears.
"This was the World Cup. The fucking World Cup. And I lost. My career, and everything I've worked for, gone, just within 90 minutes." I sob.
Ona's eyes soften but she shakes her head.
"But it's not over. You still have Barcelona. You still have that team and the lionesses. You still have so much. Your career is not over, and you just got to the bloody World Cup final. Be proud of yourself, I know I sure am so proud of you. So, so proud baby." She says stroking my hair, just like Keira did.
"You don't understand." I snap, letting another sob escape me. "My body can't take it much longer. I can't take it much longer. My knee won't last another four years. I'm 31 Ona. Don't you get that? My body can't take this much longer. There won't be a 2027 World Cup for me. I won't make it. This was supposed to be it. This was supposed to be the highlight of my career. A way for me to finish with a big bang. A way for me to be remembered. But it's been taken away from me. Because I'm not good enough, I've never been good enough."
Ona just hold me, as tightly as she can. At this point we don't care about the media, or the fans. We are just holding onto each other for dare life. It's just me and her. Her and I like it will always be.
"And by the way." She says pulling back slightly. "I think you are good enough. Very, very much good enough, especially with your head between my thighs. There's no one in the world who's better." She says smiling slightly, trying to lighten the mood.
And it works. I laugh slightly and push her softly.
"Of course I am. Have you not seen the way I can have you shaking within seconds." I chuckle raising a brow at her.
Ona's face reddens and she laughs.
"Oh, I've witnessed it first hand, don't worry." She says, now smiling brightly at me.
I smile back, but my eyes wonder down to the medal around her neck and my smile fades. Ona notices this and goes to take it off, but I quickly swat her hand away.
"Don't you fucking dare take that off." I sneer. "You won that. You deserve that. Don't go taking it off because of me."
Ona just smiles softly and pulls me back in for a hug.
"Te amo, mi amor." She says kissing my cheek.
"Te amo, baby." I say back.
Ik this is short, sorry about that guys. But I hope you enjoyed.
