Coffee

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prompt 27. -So, can I call you tonight?

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Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Motherfucker. Putain. Merde. Mierda.

The hot coffee stains the gray hoodie covering your upper body, burning your skin like hot coal. The next sensation's the freezing cold of an iced coffee, your body in the ultimate whiplash.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry" The girl's Australian accent gives you your second whiplash of the day, not used to Aussies in Spain, especially not very attractive and very off limits ones.

It's not like you don't know exactly who she is. When you're a sports commentator working with women's football, you have to know all the players. It's non-negotiable.

"It's fine" Her hands are still pressing into your torso, having landed there when she bumped into you. The wet material of your shirt sticks to your body uncomfortably, a cooling effect on your reddening skin.

"No, I'm so sorry. Let me help you get that stain out" The Real Madrid player gives you no choice as she leads you towards the bathroom of the establishment. Her hands push you forward by your hips, looking around you so as to not make you run into anyone else.

When she locks the door behind you after you've both entered the bathroom, you can't help but cross your arms across your chest.

"So, do you have an undershirt or not?" The brunette walks over to you with confident steps, her fingers grasping at the hem of your shirt.

"Uhm, no?" You cough out, breath caught in your throat at the breathtaking girl's proximity.

"Let's just hope you're not shy then, take your shirt off" The girl fixes you with an intense look, almost challenging you.

"Take a girl out for dinner first, ey?" Your voice is muffled by the shirt going over your head as you strip for the stranger. When it's finally off your head, you hand it to the unusually attractive girl.

You feel her eyes running over your upper body as she runs the hoodie under cold water, arms soon crossed over your chest.

"So are you in Madrid for long?" She questions, trying to fill the awkward silence that's appeared between you two.

"No, I'm only in town until tomorrow. Work stuff." You look on as the girl nods back at you, clearly distracted.

"Well the stain should disappear within a couple of hours, that's the Hayley guarantee." She winks at you playfully as she hands the now drenched hoodie back to you, watching as you contemplate on whether to put it back on or not. "Oh I forgot, here take my hoodie. It was my fault after all."

She puts the much too small zip up in your hands, forcing you to take it. And yet you can't find it in you to protest, the sight of her rippling biceps enough to win you over.

Hayley watches as you put it on, the sleeves riding up your arms adorably.

"That's adorable" You look up from where your eyes are fixated on the too short sleeves. The deer in headlights look makes the younger girl chuckle a little, leaning up closer to you.

You're already pretty much leaning against the sink, so when the Australian puts her hands on either side of your body, you're trapped. Not that you're complaining.

"Can I kiss you?" The question came out of nowhere, and yet you couldn't help but nod, the girl way out of your league. She was surprisingly comfortable with a complete stranger.

She shifts her hands from the marble of the sink to your waist, warm hands slipping under the hoodie and settling on your cool skin. Your hands settle on cupping her face gently, the girl's baby hairs getting caught on your fingers.

When her lips meet yours it feels like everything suddenly makes sense, as if all that's happened before in your life didn't matter. Your gray hoodie lays discarded on the other side of the sink, still drenched.

Soft thumbs rub circles on your skin, the kiss heating up significantly, teeth clashing and tongues battling for dominance.

It was nice, well until the voice of reason in your head took over. You were kissing a football player, a Madrid one nonetheless.

Pulling away from her lips, there's a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

"Uhm, I have to go!" You rush out, fiddling with the lock on the way out. It was mean to just leave her there, and stupid of you not to get her number, but your brain was overwhelmed by thoughts. The main one being, holy shit Hayley Raso is a fantastic kisser.

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"El Clásico, one of the most feared rivals up against each other. Y/n how's the feeling down on the pitch?" One of the usual commentators asking you the usual questions before the game.

"It's good, both teams have warmed up and are ready to take on their rivals. Real have signed some real talents in...Raso but we can't forget the decked out midfield that Barcelona have with the likes of Bonmatí and Putellas. I think we have an exciting match coming." When the audio cuts back over to the studio, you're already downing half your water. Raso, the only one you had to avoid.

You were right, the match was one of the most exciting games you'd ever watched. Harsh tackles, yellow cards flying left and right, goals being scored one after another.

It eventually ends with Barcelona coming out on top for the umpteenth time, but this time it was closer than ever. A controversial offsides call had given the visiting club the upper hand, giving them the win.

And to your misfortune, the one person you didn't wanna see was the one you had to interview.

"Hayley Raso, you did good today, but how would you describe your performance?" You can see the smirk appearing on her face, but in her eyes that are unusually easy to read, is shock.

"Well, I think I performed as best as I could. There's not much more to say really." Her eyes bore deeply into your own, and for your sake, you look away from the beautiful sight.

"There you all have it, nothing more to say so back to you Michelle."

You start to walk away from the winger, but that is until her fingers grasp around your wrist.

"You're a reporter?"

"Yeah, something like that. Our...interaction wasn't long enough to get into the deep stuff." You speak in a hushed tone, careful not to let people understand what you're talking about.

"Mhm, it was nice though. Could I offer you that coffee I made you spill earlier? And more importantly, can I call you tonight?" Confident as always, the ribbon wearing girl asks you the questions boldly.

"You know what? I'd love to take you up on that offer." The pen that sits in your pocket makes an appearance, you taking Hayley's arm into your grip, writing your number carefully on her skin.

"There you go, call me whenever."

"You forgot your hoodie earlier!"

"Keep it!"

Who would have thought that a simple coffee run would result in you getting a girlfriend?

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