Double Trouble Too // Neymar Jr //

-1.9- Let's Reminisce

"The Lord will perfect that which concerns me;
Your mercy, O Lord, endures forever;
Do not forsake the works of Your hands."

Psalm 138:8.

Stories to check out:

Why Did I Marry a Footballer? -neymzr leave her a comment/read/vote please!

The Inescapable Mousetrap- willywisee leave Will a comment/read/vote please!

And a very special thank you to the lovely neymzr for the new cover! God bless you girl! I love you! It's great isn't it? Hit her with a follow please :).

Sorry for the absence y'all. Might hit you guys back to back if God wills it.

"Princesa--please, listen to me." The statuesque man standing in front of me beckoned, as goosebumps formed up my arms. The last time my dad had ever given me a term of endearment was some time before he left, after he had finished wilimg out on my mother, pulling me into an embrace. My face softened, and my tense shoulders suddenly slumped down.

"Pai?" I answered in a small voice, almost inaudible. I detested how easily I could change my moods. More or less, I was puzzled, frustrated, and solemn at the same time.

One thing I could say for sure was how good it didn't feel.

"There you are." A smile broke out on his lips, almost a replica of the son he so dearly loved. What he said was the exact thing that Neymar did, to top it off.

Way to play at the heartstrings even more, Antonio.

"What do you want?" I snapped out of my mushy mood, snapping at him with a tone of aversion. "I know he told you." I was staring up at him. "Are you here to tell me of how much of a mistake I am?" I barked. He put out his hand, motioning me to calm down.

"Calmate."

I inhaled a sharp breath, feeling my body shudder right after.

"Yes, Andrew has spoken to me about the events that took place." I rolled my eyes at his formality.

"Stop being so formal old man." I put my hands on my hips, rolling the ball from my heel to toe. "I'm already hurting." My lips quivered. "I don't think I can take any more than today." I stared down at the dead grass, weakly punting the dead, wheat colored grass.

"Why are you not back at the hotel?" He twisted his head sympathetically.

How to disappoint your father more than you already have : tell him that you got yourself kicked out. Basically.

"I'm prohibited, Antonio. I can't go back." I faced the floor, rubbing my bruised knuckles against my sore arns. "Neither can she." Disheartened feelings radiated from him, I could sense it. "Vala, I mean."

There was a minute of silence.

"I've been looking for you Anha."

I winced at my nickname that he gave me as a baby, the one I used to answer to without a thought. Andressinha had no idea as to why I grimaced whenever she called me that. I was sifting through that statement, searching for the half hearted caring words that he usually used.

I found none.

"Where have you been?" I throw out my hands, inquiring of him in our native tongue. I wasn't interested in yelling in English, since I was a bit rusty in it. "I've been here! Right here! For years, Antonio! I'm not the one who chose to bolt on his responsibility! Leaving the mother of his three children to take care of two of them! By herself!" I lash out at him, causing him to acquire a taken a back look about him. "17 years into my life, papai, I've been waiting for you." I swallow a lump in my throat, holding my chest. "I've been looking for you." My voice cracks, as I try to stifle my ugly crying noises. It's of no avail, as I turn away. Not that he was hiding, but it surely felt that way.