Red Secrets (Marcus Rashford)

The midnight snack

*Midnight*

I couldn't sleep. My mind was racing. No matter how hard I tried to relax, I just couldn't get comfortable. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, I finally gave up. A midnight snack might help, I thought, pushing the covers aside and slipping out of bed.

The house was quiet as I made my way downstairs. When I reached the kitchen, I was surprised to see a light already on. I paused in the doorway, realizing I wasn't alone.

Marcus was sitting at the kitchen island, hunched over a bowl of cereal. The quiet crunching of his late-night snack was the only sound in the room. He looked different in the soft, muted light—less guarded, more relaxed. But the moment he saw me, he nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Oh my gosh, Sofia," Marcus said, clutching his chest. "You scared the hell out of me."

I couldn't help but laugh, a bit embarrassed for sneaking up on him. "Sorry! I didn't mean to. I couldn't sleep and thought I'd grab something to eat. I didn't you to be up."

He grinned, the initial shock fading from his expression. "Guess we both had the same idea."

I made my way over to the fridge, pulling out some leftover pasta from dinner. As I reheated it, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was a chance to get to know Marcus a little better. I grabbed my plate and turned to him, gesturing to the stool next to his.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," Marcus replied, a bit more enthusiastically than I expected. He slid his bowl of cereal aside to make room for my plate as I sat down beside him.

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it was charged with a sort of anticipation. I could tell Marcus wasn't sure where to start, but there was a different vibe about him, an eagerness to talk that I hadn't seen before.

"So," I began, breaking the ice, "do you often find yourself up at midnight, snacking on cereal?"

Marcus chuckled, stirring his spoon around the bowl. "Yeah, more often than I'd like to admit. I guess I'm a bit of a night owl. What about you? You're usually fast asleep by now, right?"

I nodded, taking a bite of pasta. "Usually. But tonight, I just couldn't seem to turn my brain off. Too much on my mind, I guess."

He looked at me, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "Like what?"

I shrugged, not wanting to dive too deep into my thoughts. "Just... life, I guess. But enough about me. What about you, Marcus? You're usually so quiet. What's going on in that head of yours?"

Marcus hesitated, his eyes shifting away as if he was debating whether or not to open up. But then he sighed, leaning back on the stool, his posture relaxing. "I don't know. I guess I'm just not used to being the center of attention. Jadon's always been the outgoing one, and I'm more... well, you've seen me."

"I have," I said softly, watching him closely. "But I'm interested in the guy behind all that quiet."

He smiled, a little self-consciously, but there was something endearing about it. "I'm not all that interesting, really. Football takes up most of my life, and when I'm not playing, I'm usually just hanging out with the boys or gaming."

"Football and gaming," I repeated, nodding. "What do you love most about football?"

Marcus's eyes lit up at the question, his passion for the sport evident. "Everything, really. The rush when you're out on the field, the being with the team, the way everything else just fades away when you're in the middle of a game. It's like... nothing else matters in that moment."

I could see the genuine love he had for football, and it made me smile. "That sounds amazing. I can tell it's a big part of who you are."

"It is," Marcus agreed, his voice quieter now, more introspective. "But sometimes, I feel like it's all people see. Like I'm just Marcus Rashford who plays football and doesn't have much else to offer."

His words struck a chord with me, and I found myself wanting to reassure him. "I don't think that's true, Marcus. You're more than just football. You're thoughtful, you care about your friends, and... well, you've got this way of surprising people when they least expect it."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Surprising, huh? Like tonight?"

I blushed slightly, realizing how that might have sounded. "Yeah, I guess so. You're not as shy as you seem."

Marcus leaned in a bit, his voice dropping just enough to make my pulse quicken. "Maybe I'm just more comfortable around you."

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, the room felt smaller, more intimate. I didn't know how to respond, so I just smiled, hoping it conveyed everything I couldn't say.

After a brief pause, Marcus cleared his throat, shifting the conversation. "So, what about you? What do you do when you're not keeping Jadon on his toes?"

I laughed, appreciating the shift in focus. "I'm studying for my degree, so that takes up a lot of my time. And I work part-time at a café. Nothing too exciting."

"Sounds like you've got a lot going on," Marcus said, genuinely interested. "What are you studying?"

"Literature," I replied, feeling a little self-conscious. "I've always loved reading and writing, so it just made sense."

"That's really cool," Marcus said, and I could tell he meant it. "It's great that you're pursuing something you're passionate about."

We talked for what felt like hours, the conversation flowing effortlessly. Marcus was surprisingly open, more so than I'd ever seen him. He talked about his dreams, his fears, and the pressures he felt as a footballer. I shared my own struggles and aspirations, finding comfort in the fact that he genuinely listened, offering quiet support.

As the night wore on, I found myself feeling closer to Marcus, understanding him in a way I hadn't before. He wasn't just Jadon's quiet friend; he was thoughtful, funny, and had a depth that I hadn't expected.

Eventually, the conversation began to wind down, and I realized how late it had gotten. Marcus noticed too, glancing at the clock with a soft chuckle. "We've been talking for hours. You should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah," I agreed, reluctantly standing up. "But I'm glad we talked. I feel like I know you a lot better now."

Marcus smiled, that shy, genuine smile I was beginning to like more than I should. "Me too. I'm glad you couldn't sleep."

We said goodnight, and I headed back upstairs, my mind more at ease than it had been earlier. But as I crawled into bed, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between us. Marcus wasn't just the quiet friend anymore—he was someone I was starting to see in a different light. And that both excited and terrified me.