Gypsy: An Álvaro Morata Fan Fic

Chapter 2

My girlfriend was studying and lived far away so I was left with nothing to do in the afternoons when the guys didn't have any plans. Two days after our rendezvous over music, I decided to walk to the park again at the same time and confirm two things: that she is real and that she's not a liar.

I walked to the spot where she sat and there she was, looking hippie as ever. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, she had on a strapless floral dress and a tortoise necklace. She was just stroking the chords. No singing. I got to her and sat cross-legged beside her without making a sound. She looked up for a second and smiled at me, not stopping her playing.

The wind was blowing her ponytail sideways and her nails were painted two different colors. I smiled to myself thinking she made me feel at peace with myself. When she finished, we started talking. She spoke about her life, how she'd been living in Spain for a short while and hadn't found a job.

She'd been giving some resumés around but people were discrimating against her for many reasons. It really made me mad that some of us Spaniards are like that. She's smart, witty, hilarious, talented... Why can't a good woman like her get a decent job? I was considering all this while I listened to her and interrupted: "I'll get you a job. One you'll love."

"What? How?" I didn't want her to know that I had my connections because I was famous. Everything changes once they know that. "How would you like to sing at a bar? A respectable one." "Well, that would be absolutely perfect. The question is: how?" "Don't worry about that." She breathed out, exasperated. "All right. Let's say, merely for the sake of argument, that you could get me such a job. We have another problem."

"What is it?" She looked down and murmured: "I don't sing in public." She looked at me from under her eyebrows. "Not a problem. You'll practice every day in front of me. Until you can look me in the eyes while you sing. The fear will dissipate, you'll see." I reached out and stroked her cheek with my index finger. She looked up at me and smiled. "But why? Why would you do this for me?"

"Because it's a win-win. I relax after training and you get your dream job." "So all you want me to do is practice in front of you?" She can't believe it'll be that easy. "Yes. Right here. Every afternoon." "And you think that'll make me lose my fear?" "I don't think it's fear. I think it's insecurity. And yes. Once you practice enough, you'll get over it. What do you say?"

She shrugs and agrees. "I say let's do it." "All right!" We both laugh. I love spending time with her. I barely know her but she's so witty, so passionate about her music, so focused on her studies. I also loved the fact that I would get to be with her every afternoon. She played three more songs: "Cuando te Alejas" by Pablo Alborán, "Treacherous" by Taylor Swift (which she later translated for me) and a slowed-down version of "Vuelve" by El Canto del Loco because I asked for it. "Same time tomorrow?" I asked her, getting up and swatting the grass off my butt. "Sounds like a plan." She sticks out her hand to shake mine and I do so. "Bye." I said as I chuckled at her way of saying goodbye. A handshake? She's so original. "See ya." She said after me, waving from the floor. I turned away and kept smiling. She made me feel so great. I was me and only me when I was with her. I didn't have to put on a show for her. So unlike when I was with Carla in one of her dad's charity events. I had to be polite, nod courteously and pretend any joke those assholes made was funny. It was hell. But here in the park, listening to her play and talking in between was really lifting my spirits...

A week went by and I even felt like I was training better. I went to meet with her like we did every afternoon. I was smiling all the way there. She was really concentrated on her playing this time and didn't even look up when I sat beside her. She finished her song and we started talking about her law studies, about how excited (and a bit nervous) she was about her audition next week. I smiled and laughed so much. She was my escape every afternoon.

The only problem was, I couldn't talk to her about my things because it would involve me talking about my professional life. I wasn't ready for her to know about that yet. I only talked to her about Carla, about my mom and my sister. Never mentioned football. Which is hard for me because it's my whole life. It's been my dream since I was little.

Thing is, I liked her. Her personality, her way with words, her talent with the guitar and her voice... But most of all, I liked who I was when I was with her. No jobs, no fame, no titles, no money, just me. She was singing that Pablo Alborán song, "Cuando Te Alejas". I was looking at her intently, deep in thought. Her curly hair was flowing with the wind, she was looking down at the chords as she played.

"Cuando te alejas, me tiemblan las manos por miedo a que veas que muero por tí." [When you step away, my hands tremble for fear that you know I'd die for you] I knew the song wasn't over but something possessed me to reach out and touch her hand. I placed my hand lightly over hers, she stopped playing and looked up at me automatically not expecting my contact. I half-smiled at her and she relaxed.

My mind wasn't in charge of my actions anymore as I scooted closer to her and, with my other hand, took her chin between my fingers. I tilted her head upward and moved in. I closed my eyes and was milimeters away from connecting my lips with hers when: "Stop." was the sole word that she breathed on my lips as I opened my eyes and came back to reality.