it was not on hilal's weekly bingo card that the kenan yıldız was finally returning home, especially when the news came out of nowhere. she was not ready to face him and tell him how much of an asshole he was for leaving to turin without even saying...
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"THERE ARE ONLY A FEW MINUTES LEFT!" the commentator shouted full of suspense. the match was soon coming to an end and it was not looking great for the turks. "who will advance to the semi-finals?" the emcee's voice full of anticipation, adrenaline, and even a hint of glee.
hilal's heart couldn't resist such adrenaline, just like the rest of her family. they were gathered in front of the television, clenching the flag in one and a glass of fresh english tea in another hand. "just throw the damn ball!" mr. özdemir shouted enraged as he was cursing under his breath. his daughter seated next to him was anxiously nibbling sunflower seeds, nuts, sweets - anything edible in her reach. "I cannot watch this" the twenty-year-old uttered as she was walking away, nevertheless, her eyes were still glued on the tv. she was praying for them to score just one more goal. one last-minute goal like the old times. one more goal meant playing for another thirty minutes, penalties, advancing to the next round, dreaming, hoping, winning - however destiny had written a different outcome.
the players dressed in orange were running through the field, jumping, screaming full of happiness & pride, simply celebrating their win, while the turks were watching them from afar. sadness, sorrow and frustration were written on their faces. oh, how it hurt seeing them like that. "so.. that's it?" hilal questioned hesitantly, not believing that the game had ended.
it felt strange knowing that all of their hard work, not only in this but all of the previous matches combined, as well as their hopes and dreams were crushed within thirty minutes after dominating two-thirds of the game. it hurt seeing the players gloomy, crying even. what hurt her even more was seeing the player with the jersey number nineteen frustrated & hiding his face with his shirt. it was absolutely heartbreaking.
mr. özdemir could only shake his head several times, "well" he sighed, "we played excellently after all those years" he smiled as he was reminiscing the euros in 2008. "at least the boys can rest now, they worked super hard!" his daughter nodded at his words, feeling somewhat prideful and happy. even if the euros were over for them, they had amazing and memorable weeks - when was the last time they truly enjoyed football?
"and" hilal's head turned to her father as he started talking again "he's finally coming back after all those months; he better pays us a visit!". she furrowed her eyebrows at his statement, "what do you mean dad?". the turk looked at his daughter with a confused look on his face, "what do you mean by he's finally comingback?" she asked again, but this time her tone was filled with apprehension & her voice higher than she would normally speak in.
"don't you think, kenan is coming back? not even for a week? I better ask engin, wait" and with that the fourty-nine-year old left the room to call his friend from next door, leaving his daughter alone in the living room. "no this can't be" she whispered in disbelief.
⤷ WELCOME TO
"you've changed" "yea, you too.."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𖦹⭒°｡⋆ MOONSTRUCK!
"wanna go for a walk?" "just the two of us?" "well..."
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"what do you even want me to say?"
şevval çekik as HİLAL ÖZDEMİR
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"anything, something, everything!"
⋆˚࿔BEFORE 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ we can continue with the story, there are quite a few things I'd like to say:
this story is completely fictional and is written for entertainment purposes only. kenan yıldız and şevval çekik, who's playing hilal özdemir, are used as face claims and therefore I am not shipping these two in any way! everything that is written in cursive in speeches is meant to be in turkish. since they are turks living in germany, it's common mixing the german language with their native one; to get the feeling of more authenticity, just keep in mind: whenever a sentence or even a word in direct speech is written in cursive, it's because they are talking in turkish 😋. for aesthetic purposes everything is written in lower case.🎀 I'm completely open to criticism as long as it isn't worded in a mean/ insulting way. 👎
feel free to comment, I love reading comments!! ⭐️
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