Chapter Eleven
The nice afternoon turned into a dark night as I wasted my time watching that football match, I couldn't believe I had lost my time doing such thing, but I may say it was funny; I got up from the couch and prepared some pasta for dinner. The TV was still on and all in a sudden Robert was again on the screen, in front of a wall plagued with sponsoring logos and brands: he was giving an interview to some sports channels.
My heart paced up and I decided that I should turn the TV off. The apartment fell in complete silence after I shut that thing off, but my heart wouldn't stop beating madly. The knocks on the door broke the silence as they became more insistent every second. I freaked out and went to the door slowly; I grabbed the silver candelabrum in the mezzanine table prepared to whack the shit out of the intruder. I open the door and gained impulse, I was about to hit the blue-eyed man on the head.
"It's me! It's Robert!" He shouted covering his head with his arms.
"Shit, you scared me!" I exclaimed breathless. "What are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to you" Robert replied. "It's work stuff, I promise."
"Come in" I hissed. I moved myself from the door and let him in, he slightly limped as he made his way to my living room. I noticed a little grimace in his face as he settled down in the sofa under the wall we painted.
"Smells really good" Robert smiled at me as I sat down in front of the couch where he was resting. "Were you cooking some pasta?"
"Yes" I replied monotonously and almost automatically. I was lost again in his eyes and the way they shone were so beautiful, but there was something odd in his face, but I didn't know what. I just knew it.
"I really like pasta" Robert whispered under his breath making it audible enough for me to hear it. He sniffed the air and moved his face to the right, the light above his head highlighted the trace of what it seemed like face powder.
"Robert, are you wearing makeup?" I blurted out. He frowned at me and, without responding, he quitted the eye contact.
"No" he denied coldly, he looked at me again, his blue eyes weren't as intense as they use to be, I didn't felt intimidated whatsoever. I felt the necessity to squeeze the information out of him. I knew something was happening.
"Because I can see some face powder under your left eye and in some.."
"I'm not wearing makeup!" He yelled annoyed, cutting me off in mid-sentence. "Sorry, I didn't want to shout, I'm so sorry."
"If you're not wearing makeup, then let me touch your cheek" I replied as I got up.
"No! Don't get any closer" Robert exclaimed. "You're invading my personal space, no please, don't ... AHHH!"
"Why are you screaming? I haven't even touched you" I said. He didn't move, he was still in my sofa, without the intention of moving a centimeter away from there. And right there, in a quick, swift movement, I rubbed my thumb on his cheek.
"Shit! That hurt!" Robert exclaimed.
"I knew it, you were wearing makeup!" I said triumphantly.
"No, I'm not wearing makeup!" Robert continued to deny it. "I'm hiding some bruises."
"What? Why? How come?" I asked really worried and utterly interested. Why am I caring too much about him?
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I Fell For A Ball Kicker? (A Robert Lewandowski Fanfiction)
Fanfiction"Do you still love him?" He inquired, looking at her into her eyes, into her soul. "I don't know, maybe" she replied frankly. "I know you do" he assured. "How do you know?" She felt her voice breaking off. "Because you have never looked at me lik...
