Play like a culé: A Cristian Tello Fan Fic

Chapter 7

María's P.O.V.

I was absolutely crazy about him. No doubt about that. And that kiss. He had given me the sweetest, lightest kiss you could ever get as a greeting. My lips were still tingling from his touch. It was perfect. He didn’t want to attract any attention but at the same time, let me know that he was happy to see me. I couldn’t ask for more as I looked at his back while he looked at the menu, wondering what to order. That shirt was so tight around his muscled torso and I bit my lip thinking about how it had felt to touch his naked body. I smiled to myself, pulled my legs up on the couch and felt the happiest I’ve ever felt in my life. I’m pretty sure I was in love.

Cristian's P.O.V.

I had only the slightest idea of what she might like as I stepped up to the counter and looked at the menu. I knew she liked sweets because she had told me, in our long conversation that night before the game, that she was addicted to candy. She couldn’t sleep well if she hadn’t had any sugary treat during her day. So I decided to get her something caramel. Doesn’t get any sweeter, right? “Hi. Two caramel machiattos, please.” I said to the girl behind the counter. I didn’t even look at her while I was looking for cash in my wallet. “6.57€” I found a ten and handed it to her. When I looked up, I caught her gaping at me. I smiled as she shook her head to shake it off and took the bill from me. She was about sixteen and she was sort of shocked. I was more or less used to this, especially when I wore these tight, short-sleeved shirts that showed off my toned, tattoo-filled arms. As she gave me the change, she looked into my eyes again and I took the opportunity to wink at her. Her jaw dropped and so did my coin change on the counter. I chuckled, looking down. She picked it up, mumbled she was sorry and put it in my hand. I was so bad but I couldn’t help taking these opportunities. They were such easy targets. I’ve always fooled around but now I felt guilt swirl through me as I looked back and saw her sitting with her legs under her, her elbow on the back of the couch and checking her phone. This time, I was just messing around with this Starbucks’ girl because she was too young for me. But I was a natural-born flirt. And I had to tone it down because María didn’t seem like a girl who would tolerate that. She’s made it pretty clear that she didn’t want to be just ‘another woman’ in my life and I’d let go of Carla for her. I would do anything to keep her, even if it meant changing my personality.

María's P.O.V.

He came back and handed me one of the cups in his hands. “What is it?” I asked, curious, as I took it from him and tried to smell through the little hole in the cap. “Taste it.” I did as he asked and was in shock. Not because I didn’t like it but because he’d chosen the one item I adored in that menu, a caramel machiatto. He was a little confused at my reaction so I chuckled and explained: “Sorry. I’m just shocked that you picked exactly what I like from that whole menu.” “I know you like sweet because you told me the other day. So I figured…” he trailed off as he pointed at the cup. “Well you figured right.” I smiled, got comfortable by crossing my legs under me and faced him. “So, I wanted to talk about the match…”

I started talking to him about all the missed chances he had, the bad passes, the bad receptions… “That one was horrible. I don’t even know what happened to me. I had it. And, suddenly, it was rolling away from me.” “I know. I was shocked too because I totally thought you had it.” We kept going through the game, making comments, analyses… “But your second half was unbelievable. You tried so many passes. There was one off the right wing that I thought would be a goal for sure. I find it unbelievable how you change wings like that with whomever you’re paired. It’s incredible.” I said as I put my hand on his thigh and looked at him in admiration. He took my hand and laced his fingers with mine. He brought our hands up to his lips and kissed mine. “Thank you. I’m glad I’m of entertainment. I just wish I could be more effective, you know?” “I might have some unprofessional tips for that.” “I hoped you would. I’m tired of professional opinion. They’re concerned for the good of the team, not my individual performance.” “I, on the other hand, am concerned and I should suggest that you think the last pass in your offensive play a bit more .Sometimes, you rush to the spot and take the kick without even looking if someone’s in the box to take it. Don’t get me wrong, speed is great. You just can’t let it affect your precision.”

Cristian's P.O.V.

She is perfect. I couldn’t help thinking this as I looked into her passionate eyes. It was palpable how much she enjoyed talking about this, thinking it over, analyzing… And she’d said something I was pretty sure I’d never heard before. Everyone was always so concerned about speed they never said: take your time, look up before you take the pass… They’re so used to players that are 100% aware of their surroundings. They don’t even have to look up to know if someone’s coming up the middle to grab their passes. But she’d noticed that I wasn’t one of those players and she was telling me, point-blank, what she thought I could do to improve. “Wow. You really know about all this. And why would you suggest that?” I tried to press her knowledge a little to see if she actually knew as much as I thought or it was just a lucky guess. “Well, because you come from a team where some players are completely aware of their teammates positions. Messi, Cesc, Andrés…none of them have to look up to know who’s coming to meet up their pass. But…” she trailed off, looking down as if not wanting to tell me that I couldn’t do that because I didn’t have the talent. “But?” I asked as I tried to meet her gaze by craning my neck. “You’re still too young to have that skill. You’ll develop it over time. For now, take your time and think about the pass before you make it.” Yes. She did know about this. “You never cease to amaze me.” I said to her as I smiled and slowly shook my head. She shrugged, trying to be cocky, and sipped her coffee while I felt like the luckiest man alive.