Double Trouble Too // Neymar Jr //

-2.7- The Enigma of Last Night

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

-Hebrews 11:1.

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If you have not read 2.6, please do :).

        My mouth dropped, and I shrieked, enveloping myself in the sheet as if it were my only covering. My niece began to scream as well, jumping off of the bed, and running out while crying.

I was horrified--terrified beyond belief. I was fighting the urge to throw up--that's how shocked I was.

I was still holding back shrieks, trying not to be so melodramatic.

But you awake without your clothes and your ex in your bed, you can only scream.

Neymar opened his eyes, eyebrows knitted together.

I was hyperventilating, wrapping my legs together as tightly as I could. His hazel eyes met mine, with the same terrified expression.

He grunted while sitting up, rubbing his eyes erratically. The brown skin blinked twice at me, and began to gasp.

"Ah!" Neymar rolled over, falling down, but quickly standing up. He looked down to see if he were still wearing boxers. That he was, and I was relieved.

My legs felt like noodles accompanied by the knocking of my heart against my chest.

"What happened?!" I shouted, scooting further and further from him. "Did we-did--" I couldn't muster out the words. So I chose to hit my hands against my head.

"I don't know! I don't remember anything!" Neymar put his hands on his bare chest with an innocent expression. "Where am I?"

Where else would we be?!

"In my bed Neymar! In my house! The house I live in with my niece and twin!" I put my hands on my head. "Andrew is going to be so mad with me!" I complained, throwing my hand out like a child.

No, I couldn't have given my virginity in a drunken stupor. Something I didn't even remember. Neymar sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands on his face. I brought my knees to mt chest, feeling a flurry of emotions within seconds.

It couldn't have happened, there was no evidence except our clothes sprawled out everywhere. The hangovers meant nothing. I felt nothing out of the ordinary, nothing felt different. Absolutely nothing.

Except everything felt different.

My head was throbbing, surely Neymar's was too.

I kept knocking my head with the base of my hands.

"Do you remember anything?" I inquired in a mousy tone. "All I remember is--" oh, why oh why did I have to drink so much?

"I might." Neymar chuckled, shaking his head. "Do you?" He turned to me, observing me softly.

What part of this was cute or endearing?