Skipper's Kid

I'm So Sorry

Why? Why did you yell at your caring, loving mother who only wanted what was best for you? She'd just wanted to make sure you were alright, and you'd screamed at her like everything going on was her fault.

Those were the thoughts that ran rampant inside your brain, inducing heart-wrenching guilt inside of you as you pondered the negative emotions that your mom must have been feeling.

Checking your phone, the time read 1AM. You didn't care, leaping off the wooden park bench as you began sprinting home.

You'd promised yourself as a little kid that you'd never ever hurt your mom, seeing as the two of you only had each other. Of course, you and  her had all of the Gunners and Scottish internationals, but they weren't biological family. Your mother's brother and parents were living their own separate lives back in Scotland. Thinking back on that broken promise only fueled you, causing you to run home faster than ever before.

Somewhere along the way home, you crossed paths with some old ass guy who was... weird, to say the least.

"Hey, baby," he called, smirking. "Why don't you slow down so I can show y—OOF!"

You bumped him with your shoulder as you zoomed past, sending him crashing into the ground. Bitch.

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"Mum!" you threw the door open desperately. "Mum!"

The Arsenal captain's head turned at your raspy, remorseful voice.

"Sweetheart," her voice was so quiet, you had to strain to hear her. "Come here."

That was all it took for you to rush forward, all but collapsing in her arms as you sobbed. She'd always cared about your well-being more than her own.

"Shhh, honey," she brushed your hair out of your face. "It's gonna be okay."

You'd been too quick to anger before. Both you and her knew it. She never pushed if something was truly wrong. When you'd gotten the offer for Chelsea all those months ago, she knew you were just nervous. This was different. If you'd asked her to leave it alone, she would have.

It was almost as if she sensed your guilty thoughts, as the Midfielder was quick to squeeze your hand. "I'm not mad, darlin'. Come on, let's go to bed and we can talk about this in the mornin' if you'd like."

You allowed her to steer you to her bedroom, the both of you climbing into bed.

You turned the other way, opting to face the window.

Just before your mom turned off the lights, you whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"Y/N, sweetheart," she stated softly. "Look at me."

You didn't respond.

"Y/N Y/M/N Little," she said again, more forcefully this time. "Look at me."

You rolled over slowly. "Yeah?"

She visibly melted as your voice cracked. "I love you. So, so much. I'm not mad. I promise. Don't cry."

"I love you too, mum."

She pulled your head onto her chest, holding you close as your breathing began to even out.

She'd trekk through hell and back for you.

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"Mum—?" your voice was hoarse as you woke.

"Y/N, kiddo," she caressed the side of your face affectionately. "Ye' don't have to tell me anythin'. But I'm always here to listen if ye' do."

"I'm sorry for— I'm sorry for yellin' at ye'. I was out of line."

"Ye' were," she agreed. "But it's excusable. I canny' remember the last time you've ever disrespected me, and I certainly can't remember a time you've meant to hurt my feelings. It's okay, honey."

The two of you just laid there for a few minutes, consumed by your own thoughts.

"Mum?" you sat up suddenly. "I need to— I need to make a few calls."

"Go for it."

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"Emma, Jonas, Alexander," you nodded, a lump forming your throat as you looked at the managers and agent. "Thank you for coming today."

They voiced their positive responses.

"I wanted to— to discuss my—" you closed your eyes momentarily. "I wanted to discuss my future Chelsea."

"Of course, Y/N," Emma smiled. "I'm assuming a move to Arsenal is in your plans?"

"I—" you wiped your palms on your joggers. "I'm just worried about what my teammates'll think. And the media. Playing for Arsenal is all I've ever wanted, but..."

Emma and Jonas shared a look.

"Ultimately, it's your choice whether or not you want to extend your stay here at Chelsea," Emma said. "You know the numbers. You know all the details. Do what makes you happy. Choose for you. Not anyone else."

Jonas smiled warmly at you. "Jag håller med. Vi skulle älska att ha dig i Arsenal, men om du vill stanna i Chelsea, stanna då. Du kommer alltid att ha ett hem i London Colney." (I agree. We would love to have you at Arsenal, but if you'd like to stay at Chelsea, then stay. You will always have a home at London Colney.)

You glanced over at your agent.

"Do you know who you're choosing?" he asked softly.

You dipped your head. "I know."

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The angst will be over soon I promise

I've been bawling my eyes out for the past 30 minutes ok yall aren't the only ones

If you enjoyed you're an awful person

Thanks for reading—?