sweet lover » f.torres

diez

August 17, 2010

Fernando screamed out loud as he lifted up the World Cup trophy, pride soaring through his body as he gripped on tightly to the cup, his golden medal glimmering as he stood underneath the spotlight with the rest of La Furia Roja.

21 years of exhaustingly hard work had finally payed off, and Fernando couldn't possibly be happier as a 26 year-old. This was España's dream, and now his reality.

Jumping down from the podium after handing over the cup to his best friend Sergio, he crept over to the tunnel so he could answer his phone in peace.

"Hola?"

"Nando," cooed his mother over the phone, "Ay, mi hijo, you've done it."

He grinned like a fool, "Sí, madre, it's our dream come true."

He happily skipped over to his bag to pick up his headphones for afterwards, all while Flori kept the clogs working around in her head. How would she break it to him, she had no idea. And that was why she decided to just go with the flow.

"You've gotten yourself a World Cup at the age of twenty six," she commented.

"That is correct, mamí," he nodded, not quite sure where she was going with the conversation.

"Niño, you're twenty six," she stressed again on the numbers, causing him to frown as he started to pack up his stuff from littering around the floor.

"So?"

Flori sighed heavily, "You're brother was married at the age of twenty two. But what about you, niño? You've never even dated."

Fernando groaned, his heart shattering to millions of tiny bits and pieces as he thought of where it truly belonged, "Madre, I am perfectly fine, I'm still young."

"I just worry..."

"Don't," he stated firmly yet kindly, "Worry not about me mamí, worry about yourself and Maria Paz first."

She breathed out slowly, "Te amo, Nando. And please don't just shove aside any feelings."

As she hung up on him, little did she know that shoving aside his feelings was probably the only thing he was good at, and the thing he constantly did on a daily basis without even thinking.

Fernando shook his head downcast, unable to get his mothers words out of his head. However, he could at least hide them away while he concentrates on other important stuff, such as the celebration he should've attending.

Just as he was about to step out, he found Iker's heavy body tumbling over on top of him.

Groaning as the 29 year old seemed to take his time grinning stupidly at his friend, Fernando tried to shove him off, "God, Iker, you snog your girlfriend once on national television and you think you're a feather," he snorted bitterly.

"At least some of us didn't retreat to the cold cavern that is the tunnel," Iker teased in return, "What were you doing?"

"Madre called," he simply shrugged, leaving out the details.

"Never mind, grab your stuff and get on the plane in one hour."

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