Unedited
"I won! I-I-I won!" You yelled (Insert favorite victory dance) around Niall. He threw his racket down on the ground in mock anger.
"Alright, alright. You win. But now its time to play......football!" He picked up a soccer ball.
"Um, Niall? You're playing the wrong kind of football," you laughed.
"Okay, if you lose, you call it football. If I lose, I'll call it soccer," his tone was arrogant and way to confident.
"When I win, you won't be using that voice anymore."
"Sure," he rolled his eyes. He was a good soccer player, you had to admit that.
1-0
2-0
2-1
"Finally!" You yelled as you scored.
"I'm still winning!" He taunted in a sing-song voice.
"Not for long!" You yelled, mimicking his tone.
You were trying to steal the ball from him by looping your leg around his to trip him, but it backfired. Badly.
"Ow!" Your leg twisted around and got caught on Niall's as you fell to the ground. You grabbed your leg and Niall rushed to your side, sliding on the grass.
"Are you ok?"
"Who won?" You asked through gritted teeth.
"I'm not sure that's the right question to be asking right now," he slid the leg of your pants up slowly, careful not to hurt you even more. "Ouch," he said as he saw your red swollen ankle.
"Ow," you whimpered.
"Here," he began to lean down, and then he kissed your wound. "Better?" He asked. Just then an idea popped in your mind.
"My lips hurt," you pouted. He chuckled, but leaned in a kissed them anyway. "Much better," you whispered. You wrapped you arms around his neck and he picked you up.
"We don't we watch the soccer," his voice was a little weird as he said it. But it was cute.
"Does that make me the winner?" You asked.
"I guess so," he chuckled.
