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"You spilled an entire americano on his brand new, white kit. On his first day here."
"It was an accident!"
An enemies to lovers story.
What happens if they're forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?
Jude Bellingham x female re...
We both exclaim at the same time, his hand cradling his shocked face as I look at him with my own wide eyes.
I glance at my dad; he doesn't look all too happy. I avert my gaze to Jude's mom, gulping down whatever saliva I have left in my now-dry mouth.
I actually had quite a few nice interactions with her during matches. We'd always talk when we bumped into each other. I not-so-shockingly got along more with his mom than Jude himself.
But this...
This isn't a nice interaction whatsoever.
I don't know if I should laugh or cry.
"I am so sorry. As you might know, y/n is insanely clumsy." My dad begins, his hand on Jude's back. He manages to guide him further into his firm.
I'm left standing alone with Jude's mom as we stare at each other for a second. My body stiffening in fear of what she might say.
"I am so sorry-" I start rambling, feeling my palms become sweaty.
I was more sorry to her than her son, to be completely honest.
I watch her eyes warm up immediately, her hand reaching over to place her hand on my shoulder.
"I think he'll be alright. Are you? Looked painful there." She says, her eyes full of concern as she squeezes my shoulder.
"I'm fine, perfect." I blurt, neglecting the pain in my own ankle and look behind her.
I was so dead.
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I try to not look too nosy when I sit at the secretary's desk outside of my dad's office. Peering inside sneakily through the huge glass panels. Watching Jude and his mom sit across from him, a couple documents placed on the table they're sitting at.
I do make eye contact with an injured-looking Jude. He looks pissed, nodding his head repeatedly to whatever my dad was saying while holding up a pink ice pack to his head.
A sight that could be seen as comical, if I ignored the fact that I was the one who had caused it.
Thankfully, both of our parents don't notice the death stare we're giving each other, totally immersed into- what I assume, important conversation.
Come to think of it, why were they even here today?
It could only be the stalker incident.
I'm brought out of my thoughts quickly by a hand knocking on my desk.
