sweet lover » f.torres

nueve

May 26, 2008

Fernando sucked on his bottom lip, trying his best to concentrate in the tunnel on the instructions he had taken.

The Euros final. He couldn't afford to mess up.

La Furia Roja needed him. España needed him. Above all, Catalina needed him.

"Sergio, Andrés, Xavi, me. Sergio, Andrés, Xavi, me," he went on and on, repeating it over and over again like a mantra, making sure that it stuck in his head.

"Sergio, Andrés, Xav—" his mumbles got interrupted by the twinkly ringtone of his mobile. Flipping it open, he wondered who would be calling him at such a time.

"Hola?"

"Fernando," the sweet, honey-like voice washed around him, and suddenly, unexpectedly, all of his worries vanished.

"Mi corazón," he breathed, ignoring the catcalls he was receiving from Iker, for no one could have his full undivided attention other than Catalina.

He could almost hear the smile on her silky voice, "Niño, you'll do wonderful. I can feel it, I'm counting on you," she urged him on, "I believe in you."

"I believe in your belief, preciosa," he fluttered his eyelids shut, trying to imagine how it would feel to kiss the sterling silver Euro cup; to lift it in the air, the Spanish national anthem roaring around them.

"Nando?"

"Sí, princesa?"

"Go kick some culo," she giggled, causing him to softly spread his plump lips in a smile, slightly reddened by his biting habits.

"I will," he promised, silently vowing to go to extraordinary means, just to make his best friend of 21 years proud.

90 minutes in, and it was only Nando and the goal.

Just him and the open net.

The voices shut out as if on mute; muffled they were as he scrunched his handsome face in concentration.

Letting out a deep breath, Fernando smacked the ball with his neon Nikes, the contact sending the ball flying.

One second, two seconds, three seconds, and it was slammed in the net.

The world spinning back into motion, Fernando's chocolate eyes grew wide.

"We won!" he heard Gerard scream, "Putas, we won!"

Finally coming back to his senses, Nando kicked off the ground, his feet flying as he jumped into the air. He was weightless and free; he was a champion.

Letting out a roar of victory, he sprinted down the sides of the stadium, his golden hair flowing as he stood in a halt in front of the stands.

Spotting her amongst the tens of thousands in the stadium, he grinned like an idiot at his ever-so-gorgeous best friend, clad in his jersey, causing him to swell with pride.

"Catalina!" he yelled, causing her to laugh at his crazy antics and shouts, her brown hair flowing with the wind, "Mi corazón, thank you!"

Catalina remained smiling, but a look of confusion braced her features, "What for?"

He jumped over the barriers in spite of the security guards, and ran over to his shorty, the number nine swaying under her mane of hair.

He threw his sweaty self on top of her, snuggling her tiny frame to his chest, causing her to sigh in pure bliss and satisfaction.

"For believing in me."

🌸🌸🌸