Red Secrets (Marcus Rashford)

Morning surprise

*Morning*

I woke up early, the morning light streaming through the curtains. The house was still, the only sound the gentle rustling of leaves outside the window. I stretched, feeling surprisingly well-rested despite the late-night conversation with Marcus.

As I lay there, an idea sparked in my mind, and I decided to get up and surprise him with breakfast. After all, he had been kind enough to keep me company last night, and I wanted to return the favor.

Quietly, I slipped out of bed and tip-toed down to the kitchen, hoping not to wake Marcus. I began gathering ingredients, deciding on something simple but comforting, pancakes with fruit and maple syrup. As I mixed the batter, I couldn't help but smile to myself, imagining the look on Marcus's face when he realized what I'd done.

The house was still quiet as I cooked, the pancakes sizzling softly in the pan. I arranged everything on two plates, adding a side of mixed berries and a small pitcher of maple syrup. The smell of the pancakes filled the kitchen, and just as I was finishing up, I heard footsteps behind me.

Turning around, I saw Marcus standing in the doorway, his hair slightly messy from sleep, a look of pleasant surprise on his face. "Morning," he said, his voice still a bit groggy. "What's all this?"

"Good morning," I replied, grinning at his reaction. "I thought I'd make us breakfast. I hope you like pancakes."

Marcus walked over to the island, a smile spreading across his face as he took in the spread. "Are you kidding? This looks amazing. You didn't have to do all this."

"I wanted to," I said, handing him a plate. "After last night, I figured it was the least I could do."

He took the plate from me, his eyes softening as he met my gaze. "Thanks, Sofia. This is really nice."

We sat down at the island, the mood light and comfortable as we dug into our breakfast. For a few moments, we just enjoyed the food, the silence between us companionable.

"So," Marcus said after a while, breaking the quiet, "I've got a game this weekend. You should come and watch."

I looked up from my plate, surprised by the invitation. "Really? You want me to come?"

"Yeah, why not?" he replied, his tone casual, though there was a hint of something more in his eyes. "It's just a friendly match, nothing too intense. But it'd be cool to have you there. You can watch me and Jadon show off a little."

I laughed, the idea of watching them play warming me inside. "I'd love to come. I've never actually been to a live football game before."

"Then it's settled," Marcus said, looking genuinely pleased. "I'll make sure you get a good seat."

The conversation flowed easily after that, Marcus asking me more about my life, his interest evident in the way he listened so attentively.

"So, what's it like being a literature student?" Marcus asked, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the counter. "I always imagine it's a lot of reading and analyzing old books. Is that true?"

"Pretty much," I replied, smiling at his curiosity. "But it's not just old books. We study all kinds of literature—modern novels, poetry, plays. It's fascinating to see how stories have evolved over time and how they reflect society."

"That sounds intense," he said, genuinely intrigued. "Do you have a favorite book or author?"

"It's hard to choose just one," I admitted, thinking about it for a moment. "But I'd say I'm really into Jane Austen. Her characters are so complex, and the way she writes about society and relationships is just... timeless."