𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

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we sat in the sidelines

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we sat in the sidelines. i wore a black set with a black chelsea jersey , and he wore his chelsea shirt with a black northface jacket over.

"where'd you get that shirt?" he asked

"my brother got it for me when they played against chelsea"

"oh really? he plays for arsenal yeah?"

"no Atletico. even tho i support real always. and the other plays for psg. one as a striker and  one as a goalie"

"oh do they play for the moroccan team?"

"yeah it's so cute"

"they're younger yeah?"

"yup"

"cute"

"how fucking awkward is this"

we laughed "it's out first date all over again"











the game started after what felt like forever. i put down my phone, watching the players finally walk out and getting into their positions, and a few seconds later we heard the loud whistle from the ref and the players started running around the pitch, chasing the ball. 




the match ended at 1-1 but because it's efl, and they add together the former match scores it was 4-2 to chelsea.


they made us go throuh the back of the stadium, through the technical crew's rooms, so we don't get caught up in the stampede. that's when they showed us some of the photos they took of us when we weren't looking

"wow paparazzi much" i said under my breath for only cee to hear. he chuckled, elbowing me gently.













"ow. ow stop" he said, hitting my hand

𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐞𝐞Where stories live. Discover now