The Penalty || Marc Andre Ter Stegen

In the Quiet of the Night

Every love story is beautiful, but ours is my favorite.  -Unknown

ADALINE'S P.O.V:

We're all shut down and disappointed at ourselves all the way from the bus. No laughter, fun, or jokes. We're all gazing out of the window with sad, beaten eyes into the stars, who reflect on our eyes. Especially Thomas. He blames himself for their defeat, and I highly doubt anyone can talk to him about it. Not even me.

I decide to sit next to Bastian. I need comfort. He keeps a strong arm around me and I fall asleep, but shortly. After a short while I get lifted. I instantly wake up and look up, Bastian's lovely sea blue eyes gazing into my dull, greyish blue eyes. I muster a tired smile and we walk towards my house. Mom is waiting for us on the front porch, with puffy eyes and a damp nose. I frown. This is strange, I don't think Mom would cry about a soccer game.

But as we get in, everything is quiet. The maids are next to Mom hugging her and... Giving her their condolences? Why? Confused as hell, I jump down from Bastian's arms. He follows me, but it seems that the rest of the players stay out with my mother and seem to know what's going on.

I stride around the house and become more and more desperate. My eyes grow panicked, and I start picking up speed. Then it strikes me like lightning. My dad! I gasp and run towards my parents' room, busting open the door. I look around paranoid, searching for my father. My beloved father.

When I realize it is time to give up, I drop to my knees. Fresh tears roll down my face and I lift my gaze. Bastian is there, holding out his arms. I get up and run to them, never to let go. We walk down the stairs, sniffling. Mom looks down.

"When did you plan on telling me?" I ask, utterly wounded. Mom's hurt gray eyes lift, meeting my gaze. She shakes her head slowly.

"He left something for Thomas and you." She manages to say, walking away to the front porch. I look on, looking for my brother. The other players have scattered to their own guest rooms, so the only people standing inside the house kitchen are me, Bastian, and Thomas. Thomas gives me an icy look and walks up the stairs. I scoff lightly and glare at him. Why is he even angry with me? Bastian follows me up into my parents' room. There are two boxes in their bed and a note, which I didn't notice.

Thomas takes the note that says, "To Thomas and Adaline." Frowning, my older brother opens the envelope and starts reading out loud with a raspy voice.

"Dear Thomas and Adaline,
As you can see, I wasn't in the healthiest way, was I? Look. On the morning, your Mutter and I were alone in the house, along with the maids. However, I wasn't feeling good and I just knew. I knew it was my time to part. So I told your mother and of course, she freaked out. You know how she is.-"
We all chuckle lightly at this one.
"But of course I told her it was serious. She cried and hugged me til I almost got tired of it. As she let go, I knew it was time to pass on my most beloved possessions to you guys. I know it is hard for you, but I want you to know that I love you. Immensely. There is no possible way to express my love for my whole family, Thomas and Adaline, and your mother as well. Thomas, I want you to know as well that I'm very very very proud of you. Adi, my sweet kitten, I am also very very very proud of you. Well. The bus is leaving (And Jose Mourinho is not the driver!).
I chuckle at Daddy's sense of humor.
Farewell, I love you.
Vater Gerhard Müller."
As Thomas finishes reading the note, he hands it to me tenderly, his almost always light blue eyes now dull gaze into mine, offering me a light smile. I fold the letter carefully and tuck it into my pocket.
Thomas picks up the two boxes and hands me one, looking at his.
I open mine carefully, and I find the first ever Bayern München jersey, worn by my father. I contain my tears and keep looking. But there is another note. I take it and read it to myself:
"Adaline,
The Lamborghini is yours. As well as my collection of cleats." I gasp loudly. Thomas looks up and takes my box and the small note, scanning it swiftly. His lower eye muscle twitches. I take a small step behind, but he looks at me, fury blazing in his eyes.
"He gave you the shirt?!" He snarled, leaning his head forward. My terrorized face nods wildly.
"Yes. As well as the Lamborghini and the collection of cleats." I answer shakily. Bastian is still there, holding me tight. I can sense he gives Thomas a warning stare.
"Fine. I inherited his signed ball by Pele and also..." He says, raising his nose. "... He also gave me this." He takes a photo album out, shaking it in front of my face. I glare jealously at him.

Bastian, sensing a fight brewing up, stands between Thomas and I.
"Alright then. You got what you got, I hope you're all happy with what you got. I suggest leaving this for the morning. " Bastian says, almost pleadingly, looking at both of us, firmly.

Thomas and I droop our heads. He heads out into the corridor and into his room, shutting the door stiffly. The poor guy is still single, though he has many fangirls screaming over him. He has had a successful life and likes everything, but I think it's time for him to meet someone.

But then there's me. The annoying little sister that still lives in her parents' (Or mother's. In my unfortunate case) house. I shrug it off and walk to my room, Bastian following silently.

I turn on a warm light and place the box delicately in my nightstand. Bastian looks at me sympathetically. I look at him longingly and lower my gaze.

"Can we cuddle?" I whine, raising my gaze, feeling my cheeks tinge pink. Bastian chuckles lightly and lays by my side. He hugs me tenderly, kissing my reddish nose. I place my head on his beating heart, and cuddle. I have never felt such love, but I don't think we're official. Especially if he leaves tomorrow. I raise my look and meet his.

"Basti... Please don't leave Bayern." I plead. Bastian stops smiling and shakes his head slowly. He ghosts his knuckles by my cheeks and bites his lower lip.

"Adaline, listen. I don't want to leave you, either. But believe me. I'll be better and I promise I'll dedicate all goals to you. Okay?" He says warmly, pressing his forehead against mine. I nod slowly and muster a smile. But I think of Marc Andre. What!

"Do you know by any chance... Some Marc Andre Ter Stegen....?" I ask casually. Bastian's expression sours. He looks at me darkly and doesn't move.

"The moron that stopped Thomas's penalty? Ja. Of course I know him." He growls, looking away. My eyes, wide open, keep staring at Bastian's jealous face. I nod slowly and place my head on his chest, still deep in thought.

"Well..." The German says, starting to get off my bed. "It's getting pretty late..." He says, placing a hand on his neck. I panic, grabbing his other arm.

"Please don't leave. Would you... sleep with me?" I ask, pleadingly. His eyes widen. Mine widen too, and a strong blush crosses my face.

"Not in that way!" I hiss indignantly, smiling. Bastian laughs and lays next to me all over again. "I know." he whispers, kissing my nose. He takes off his shirt, revealing a light scar on his abs. I inspect him, nodding impressively.

"Nice six-pack." I say, cat calling lowly. He wiggles his eyebrows at me and caresses my cheek. I laugh and roll over, falling on top of him. He shakes his finger, looking at me playfully.

"Go to sleep, kitten." He says tenderly. Then it hits me. Kitten. My father used to call me like that. But for some reason, it makes me feel way better. "Good night, Basti." I murmur, closing my eyelids.

"I love you." He whispers, kissing me softly. And if as if it were magic, a wave of darkness engulfs me as I fall asleep.