The Truth Behind The Womanizer

63

* I know that it is customary in Spain that the gifts are not given until January 6, but that does not fit the story, so they are given at Christmas Eve.

Sofia POV
December 24, Christmas Eve, or as they call it, Nochebuena. The entire morning, I helped Pedri's mother along with Fernando in the kitchen.

Tonight, all the family residing on Tenerife will gather at the González house to celebrate Christmas together. It is now afternoon, and Pedri's cousin, Adrián, had already arrived.

"Shall we play football?" Sebas asks as he comes downstairs in his football clothes. He wears a shirt he received from Pedri, way too big for the little guy. It looks adorable.

"Great! We can play in the backyard," Fernando suggests. Everyone agrees, and we head to the backyard. I've never really played football, so I'm quite nervous about playing with these boys. Not to mention, there's one among them who plays for a professional club and doesn't take kindly to losing – no names mentioned.

The late afternoon sun bathes the backyard in a warm glow as laughter and the rhythmic thud of a football fill the air. Fernando, Adrián, Nico, form one team, while I find myself on the other side with Sebas, captained by none other than Pedri himself.

"I promise, I'll be gentle," Pedri grins, playfully tousling my hair. "Just enjoy the game, Soof."

I chuckle, well aware of my limited football prowess. Pedri, the maestro of the ball, aims to teach me the basics, transforming his backyard into a miniature soccer field.

The teams are set, and we take our positions. Pedri's parents and my dad, brimming with football enthusiasts, eagerly anticipate the match. The initial whistle blows, and the game commences. The ball dances from one player to another, displaying a mix of skill, enthusiasm, and a fair share of goof-ups.

As the ball comes my way, I can't help but feel a flutter of nervous excitement. I aim my foot and take a shot, and to my surprise, the ball rolls far off course. Laughter erupts from both teams, but Pedri is quick to offer a supportive grin.

"Great effort, princesca! You'll get the hang of it," he encourages, his words a soothing balm to my ego.

Throughout the game, Pedri exhibits his talent, effortlessly weaving through defenders, delivering precise passes, and scoring goals with finesse. His infectious love for the game spurs everyone on, turning our backyard into a playground of joy.

Despite my initial fumbles, Pedri remains by my side, offering guidance and encouragement. He patiently teaches me the art of dribbling, the correct way to kick the ball, and the importance of positioning on the field. I stumble more than once, but each time, Pedri's reassuring smile eases my self-consciousness.

As the match progresses, I find my confidence growing. I begin to anticipate the ball's movements, dribbling with more precision, and even attempting a shot at the goal. My teammates cheer for my small victories, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie that transcends competition.

I can't help but smile as I watch Pedri share laughs and playful banter with my younger brothers. He effortlessly slips into the role of both mentor and teammate, a testament to his ability to connect with people of all ages.

The game evolves into a beautiful chaos of laughter, shouts, and the occasional spectacular goal. Pedri's deft moves dazzle everyone, and I can't help but admire his skill while realizing that football is more than just a sport for him—it's a language of passion and joy.

During a break in the game, Pedri comes over, his face flushed with excitement. "You're doing amazing, Soof! Seriously, you've improved so much already."