Football Oneshots

Gavi - Promise

The loud and abrupt knocking at the door pulls my attention away from the nearly burnt pasta on the stove. I quickly pull the pan off and set it aside before rushing over to see who'd be here this late.

Gavi

"What are you doing here?" I ask, frantically trying to get him inside so that he can sit down. The sight of him hobbling on crutches never fails to make me tear up.

"I figured I'd come visit you since you stopped coming over," he replies snarkily while climbing onto the bar stool next to the kitchen counter.

"How did you get here?" I question, avoiding his comments entirely.

Since his ACL injury, I've only seen him once. It was right after it happened, the day before his surgery. Seeing him in so much pain killed me. He's a strong boy, he could handle the piercing pain through his leg every time he moved, and the inability of his legs to carry his weight on their own.

The only pain he really felt, was when they told him that his season was over. I've seen him lash out and break down after being substituted out early or not being able to play from a suspension. No one really knew how he was going to handle not being able to play for at least 7 months.

"My dad," he replies, as I stand across from him on the other side of the counter. "He thought I needed to see you."

"I'm sorry. I've been so busy with work, I didn't have the time to come by," I look down at the floor, unable to look him in the eyes when I lie.

"It's okay, I get it." I look up to meet his soft, sympathetic gaze burning right through me.

Every time I see him, it kills me a little. The light in his brown eyes has dimmed so much, I feel like I can't recognize him anymore. But his fight is still there, in the way he tries to pretend that everything is okay.

"I promise, I'll make the time," I reply, reaching for his hand.

"Do you actually mean it this time?" he adds, a lingering bitterness in his voice. "Because the last time you said you would be there, you disappeared for weeks."

"Gavi I..."

"You what?" The anger in his voice takes over the sweetness I was first met with.

I don't respond. Guilt fills me and I can't seem to find the words.

"I'm sorry y/n. I didn't mean to," he adds, staring at my glossy eyes. "I just wanted to spend more time with my girlfriend."

A sharp pain pierces my chest at his words. Girlfriend?

"What do you mean?" is all I can seem to mumble.

"Don't pretend like I just made this up," he laughs. "You agreed when I said I wanted to be more than friends. We even went on 4 dates y/n. We both know that if this..." he says pointing to his knee, "never happened, we would be together by now."

We did want to be more than friends. We did go on a few dates. But I thought with everything going on, our relationship would be the last thing on his mind.

I can't tell what's worse; not being there for him as his friend or as his girlfriend.

"Girlfriend." I mutter under my breath, trying to envision it for myself. The corners of my lips twist up in a smile, reminiscing the days we spent together; going out for picnics, long walks on the beach...

"See, you like the idea," he replies smirking at the wide-eyed smile on my face.

I walk around to the other side of the counter, pulling him into my arms. It's been so long since I last felt his strong arms wrap around my waist.

"I'm so sorry. It hurts to see you hurt. And I chose to not see you at all. It was selfish," I mutter as my head rests on top of his.

"None of that matters now," he replies as we pull away. "As long as you actually do come and visit more. Or I'll be forced to show up here again," he adds laughing.

I reach my hand out towards him, extending my pinky finger. "I promise."

He links his finger in mine, the warmth of his touch making everything feel okay again.

"So, what did you cook?" he asks, eyeing the stove.

I laugh at his words, now remembering the disaster I left on my counter.

"Nothing edible." He laughs along with me. "Maybe we should just order food."