For the Love of Football [Fernando Torres]

06

I turned to go inside and jumped a mile high. Fernando was standing at the door, leaning against it, his eyes intense as he stared at me.

"How long have you been there?" I asked, my hand over my pounding heart.

"Not long. Look, I know my admission might have been unwelcome but Patrick told me that you're an amazing listener," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I needed someone to listen to me, without judging me or knowing the public image our family likes to portray."

I swallowed, feeling sad for him. It was never nice knowing that you weren't loved or appreciated, something I could tell he was feeling. I couldn't imagine why she didn't love her husband anymore, but I wasn't married to him and I didn't know him well enough to judge her.

I walked up to him and looked up at him. He smiled at me, his dark eyes capturing me. His blonde hair ruffled in the cold breeze, making me shiver. I think it was that anyway.

I'm pretty sure it was.

I pulled him into a hug, acting on an impulse. He was tense but after a few minutes he relaxed and enveloped me into his arms. He was taller than Patrick and I could feel the difference between the two. I allowed myself a few minutes to rest my head on his chest but then pushed him away harshly. I bit my lip guiltily, as he looked a little hurt.

"Buy me dinner first, you're moving too fast for me." I teased him, trying to lighten up the mood.

He cracked a smile and we entered the club together, walking down the stairs carefully with my high heels.

The silence between us was awkward and we both could feel it through the pounding bass of the club. I spied the VIP section and increased my pace to reach my fiance. The bodyguard smiled as he opened the velvet rope for me. I sped walked to Patrick and sat on his lap, burying my head into his neck. I felt him tighten his hands around my waist. I kept my eyes closed. Patrick kissed my forehead and I pulled away from him. He looked at me.

"Want to go home?" he asked, concern on his face and I nodded.

I climbed off his lap and said my goodbyes to the team and the various wives and girlfriends. Fernando looked relieved to see me go and I couldn't agree more. The intense connection we had was complicating what should be the beginning of a platonic friendship.

Tonight was too much for my mind to comprehend and it exhausted me.

-

"So babe, when's practice starting?" I asked in the morning, my legs curled underneath me.

We were by the pool area, both of us wearing our robes. My long blonde hair was up in a messy bun and I was munching on some toast. We had decided to eat breakfast at the pool after doing some laps together. There were no ballet classes on Sunday's, so we liked to exercise together. He looked up from his newspaper.

"We're driving tomorrow to London to move into the house. So I think tomorrow after we arrive. Meaning, we have to leave here around 5 am to get there by 7." 

I paled as I thought of the early hour and he laughed at me.

"I'm sorry. You know I like to sleep." I shook my head at him, pouting.

When I was in high school, I took bus to my school. However, that meant I had to be up by 5:30 every morning. When I left my school, I vowed to myself I would never have to wake up that early. Patrick knew this but still found it amusing as he chuckled reading the newspaper. 

I threw the last piece of my toast at him, just to spite him and it hit him right in the middle of his forehead. He looked up angry and shocked. I felt a small, fearful shiver run down my spine but then a wicked grin spread on his lips. I widened my eyes as I recognized that look. I sprung up and he mirrored my action.

I ran away squealing as he ran after me, laughing. Various guests looked at us, some of them huffing in indignation, as I sprinted up to our room. Just as I was about to shut the door in his face, his foot stopped it in its track. He stalked in and I ran towards the bed. Before I could go further, he tackled me and even though he didn't tackle me hard, I still landed like a brick on the bed.

He lifted himself up so that I could turn around, before I was smothered by the duvet. I looked up at him and he smiled softly down at me. I smiled back, wiping my hair off my face. I then wrapped my arms around his neck and he pushed us up on the bed, so that my head was surrounded by the soft cushions. He pushed his face into my neck and started planting soft kisses there, making me shiver.

"I love you." He breathed into my neck and I shivered again.

He pulled his head up.

And with his soft lips, I fell even more in love with him.

-

I leaned my head against the cool glass, closing my eyes. It was currently 6:30 am, the next morning and we were about 15 minutes away from our new house. We were in London and the traffic was beginning to pick up. It was still pretty dark outside and it didn't help my exhausted mood.

My now open eyes followed the white lines on the road as we drove past them, confusing my eyes and after a while, hurting my head. I stopped, leaned back against my seat and glanced at Patrick who was concentrating on the traffic. I put my hand on his leg and he glanced at me, and smiled softly as he looked back at the road.

"How long now?" I asked him, breaking the silence in the car.

"About 10 miles."

As he said this he turned left and we entered the wealthier area of London. The houses became bigger and bigger the longer we drove and my eyes became just as big.

Then we pulled up in front of a house so big, I couldn't believe it.