"𝐢 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡" ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆
When he made his entrance into the prestigious realm of Real Madrid, famous footballer Jude Bellingham unknowingly starts off to the wrong foot with his coach...
𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋 rooms aren't really my thing. It was infused with the sterile scent of antiseptic and disinfectant. I blinked groggily, my eyes adjusting to the light filtering through the curtains. As consciousness slowly returned, I became aware of the dull ache radiating from my injured leg.
With a deep breath, I shifted my gaze around the room, the events of the previous night flooding back in a rush of fragmented memories. Hannah's presence, her support.
As I glanced towards the chair beside my bed, I found Hannah sleeping, curled awkwardly against the hard surface. Guilt consumed me as I realized the discomfort she must have endured throughout the night.
With a sigh, I gently extricated myself from the tangle of blankets, mindful not to disturb her slumber. I turned my body around to face her, her features softened in the pale morning light, her expression peaceful in repose.
"Hannah," I whispered, my voice a breath against the stillness of the room.
She stirred, eyelids fluttering open to reveal eyes clouded with sleep. "Jude?" she murmured with drowsiness. She sat up immediately, wanting to say something.
"I'm sorry." the words spilled from her lips before she could stop them, a confession she had been holding onto for far too long.
I looked down thinking carefully about my next words, but nothing mattered anymore, our stupid game, our pettiness, nothing, it was all going to be over.
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I guess we won't be needing this anymore.
"Don't expect me to forgive you after this, i'm grateful for your help but it was basic human decency and i can't just forget everything that's happened because of one decent moment." I said mocking her tone after what she said like the other day.
She raised her eyebrows, amused. I dropped the act quickly, i really don't want to get punched again.
"There's nothing to be sorry for," I replied, seriously this time. "We've both made mistakes."
"I'm sorry too," I continued. "About..." I paused for a moment. "Well, everything."
"Let's just put it all behind us, yeah? Fresh start?" She questioned. "Fresh start."
It's sad that something like this had to happen in order for us to get along, but at least we figured it out in the end.
"Hi, i'm Jude Bellingham, most handsome, amazing, skilled footballer in the world." I joked.
A weak slap fell against my arm as Hannah let out a laugh. "Stop." She chuckled.
I've never seen her smile like that, much less make her smile. I kind of enjoy it to be fair.
The reality of my injury came crashing back with painful clarity. The bandages needed changing, a task I could not perform on my own. And so, with a sense of vulnerability, I turned to Hannah for help.
"Would you mind... changing the bandages?" I asked afraid she'd refuse.
Hannah's response was immediate, her compassion shining through as she nodded her agreement. "Of course," she replied, sincerely.
As Hannah began to unwind the bandages, her touch was delicate. We spoke little, though the silence wasn't awkward it was more of a comfortable silence. I heard her trying to cover up a wince when she saw the gash, it isn't a pretty sight.
As the task progressed, the door creaked open, and the nurse entered, her presence a welcome interruption.
"Good morning," the nurse greeted, her voice warm and welcoming.
Hannah glanced up, her eyes meeting the nurse's. "Good morning," she replied, her tone steady.
The nurse's gaze drifted to the bandages in Hannah's hands, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I see you've taken charge of the bandages," she remarked.
Hannah nodded, a hint of color rising to her cheeks. "Just trying to help," she responded, her humility endearing.
The nurse's smile widened, becoming aware of Hannah's compassion. "Well, you're doing a great job." Turning to me, "You're in good hands Jude."
Oh i know, trust me. I felt safe in her presence.
When the nurse departed, there was a knock on the door. Peering through the small window Hannah recognized them. "It's the team." She announced letting them in.
They tried to hide their surprise seeing Hannah in here alone with me. "I'll leave you guys to it." Hannah said ready to walk out.
"Take care." I told her, she looked back at me. "Ew don't say that people might think we're friends." She teased causing a smile to appear on me.
Everyone was a little taken aback by the whole situation but didn't pay it any mind, they wanted to see how i was doing.
Vinicius was the first to speak. "You alright?" He didn't know what else to say feeling bad for me.
I tried to mask the discomfort that was eating at me at me from within. "Better than I look, I hope." I replied, with forced cheerfulness.
The room buzzed with conversation as my teammates crowded around the bed, them being here being both comforting and overwhelming. I tried to focus on their words, to appreciate the gesture of support, but the pain pulsed through me like a relentless drumbeat, drowning out everything else.
"Hang in there, Jude." Camavinga said. "We're all rooting for you."
I nodded, grateful for the words of encouragement, even as a part of me longed for solitude, for the quiet embrace of the empty room.
As the conversation ebbed and flowed around me, I found myself retreating into the recesses of my mind, seeking refuge from the chaos that surrounded me.
But as the minutes turned into hours, the fatigue began to weigh heavy upon me, my eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. With a sense of relief, I felt the room begin to clear, my teammates bidding their farewells with promises of swift recovery.
Lying on the bed, I allowed myself a moment of respite, a chance to reflect on the events that had led me here. The injury, the pain, the uncertainty of what lay ahead—all of it weighed heavily on my mind, a burden I struggled to bear.
Closing my eyes, I let out a weary sigh, the exhaustion of the day settling into my bones. The events of yesterdays match replayed in my mind, each moment etched into my memory with painful clarity. The collision, the searing pain, the sense of helplessness as I lay on the field, my body broken and battered.
It wasn't the best of days for me, but over these next few months, things only went up from here. A moment of darkness before the light.
