𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄, pedri gonzález

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚, pedri

❝ my boy only breaks his favorite toys. ❞
⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

Everyone is ignoring me. Every single person.

The only one who's talking to me is Lamine. Apart from Pablo.

I don't know why the kid is willingly by my side. Especially that he's gotten so close to Olive and loves that woman. It's weird. But I'm not questioning it.

We're in the locker room right now, waiting for the match to start after our warm up. Lamine is on my left, Pablo on my right.

We still have a couple of minutes before the game starts. Xavi's yelling instructions, instructions I'm not listening to but definitely should be.

I'm too focused on Olive. She stands next to Xavi, head down avoiding eye contact in general. She's just avoiding me.

I can't stop staring. I loved her long hair, but the short hair also suits her.

However, something's taking away her natural beauty. She's tired. I can see it. It's not noticeable but I know her.

That's exactly how she looked like when she first moved here. Which means she's overworking herself again.

I thought she stopped that. I thought I helped her realize there's more to life than her work. Oh. I did. Which is why she's back to drowning herself in it.

I should say something. But what? She won't talk or listen to me at all.

"González!" Coach snaps me out of my thoughts and I look back at him. "Want to be benched again!?" He yells.

"No. No." I nod immediately. Football is all I have left at this point. I can't lose that too.

"Then focus." He warns. I nod, silently agreeing. I gulp, trying to focus on him and not anything else.

It's really hard though. Especially when she's finally looking up. In my direction, more exactly.

When I try to take a quick look at her, she looks away, to Lamine or anyone else.

Coach finishes up his speech and wishes us goodluck to all before they start getting out, and group out in the tunnel before our big entry.

I hang back, needing some air, alone time. "You good, bro?" Pablo asks, patting my back, concerned about my well being.

"Never better." I force a smile, my heart heavy in my chest. He doesn't believe my answer, knowing it's a lie. He doesn't insist though and informs me he'll be waiting outside for me.

As the room starts clearing out, I turn to my locker and open it, needing to change into my match shirt. I grab it, but something in me just snaps.

I choke, begging for air suddenly. My grip on the shirt I'm holding in my hand tightening. I close my eyes for a second, trying to catch my breath again.

This is too hard.

I can't do it.

I'm shit.

I think a tear drops from my eye as I hide in my locker, alone in the room. Good, I don't need anyone seeing me like this.

I don't know what's happening. It's not a panic attack this time. I know it isn't, it's not the same feeling at all. I don't feel pain, I just feel, kind of... empty.