Take Me Away (Neymar ; Marc Bartra)

Chapter 4

I moaned from the tapping sunlight against my face. I blinked. I shut my eyes. I blinked again and turned over to my left where my white table clock quietly laid on the side table.

I looked at the time and it was half past ten.

Half past ten.

Wasn't class at nine?

Still half asleep, I kicked my fluffy comforter onto the wooden floor and immediately sat up straight. My eyes then shifted to a neon yellow sticky note that I've stuck onto the wall, next to my bed frame the other day.

It said 'SPRING BREAK' in messy hand writing. I let off a great sigh and my let body fall back, reuniting my head against my pillow once again. No wonder my alarm didn't go off, geez what a scare. I was never a student that was late to get to class, I guess you could say that I'm a goody-two-shoes, but I doubt that I'm anywhere near being a morning person. I should probably get up anyways, wouldn't want my day to be unproductive. 

I made my way to the bathroom and washed my face numerous times, but I still looked as tired as I could be especially with the bruise on my face. Thankfully, it looked like it was already slightly fading. I put on a navy blue V neck that was hung on the back of my bathroom door along with a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and went downstairs.

Walking down to my kitchen, I could hear birds chirping happily outside, the sound of my neighbor's SUV rolling down his drive. It was quiet. When I entered the kitchen, there was a note on the kitchen counter, held down by a bowl of tropical fruits.

                “I'm out visiting Aunt Dorine. Here's some money for you to buy some groceries or eat out. Text me if there's anything!

                                                                                                  Love, mom.”

“I just taught mom how to use an iPhone a couple of weeks ago and now she's already all about texting.” I laughed to myself and grabbed the $50 bill that mom had slipped under the note. I figured that I should head out for some brunch and while I was at that, I had to get some art supplies anyway.

*******

Neymar's P.O.V

One o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon, some people would think I'm crazy for coming out during the hottest hours of the day assuming that the scorching sun would be blazing down on me, but it seems like the weather forecast lied. It was rather cloudy, with the occasional breeze blowing leaves across the pathway every now and then. I like taking walks in Barcelona, my new home land. It gives me time to sort out my mind, but all I could think about right now, was that one person. 

I had a pair of gold Beats by Dr Dres on, along with a black Nike hoodie with the hood pulled over my head, a safety precaution for when the wind decides to mess up my hair by accident. The music blasting through my ears drowned out the outside world, the voice of fans calling out my name from various directions. Not that it bothers me, I love my fans and they mean the world to me, but having time to myself when I'm out in public feels great, you know?

I stopped in the middle of the pavement and took out my iPod to skip to the next tune that would be shuffled to. I suddenly felt a slight push from my back and I turned around to see a beautiful Brunette with her hands on the left side of her face where a bruise laid. She looked up at me for a while before she started mouthing something that I couldn't hear. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, were in a warm range of soft colours, reminding me of soft caramel. It was her.

Realising that I still had my headphones on, I quickly pulled them off along with hood, just to see her getting on her knees to pick up some things from the floor. I bent down to her level and offered my help.

“First my face, and now you're knocking my things all over the place?” Anna said as she picked up a bottle of red paint and put it into a brown paper bag.

“If I remembered correctly, weren't you the one who knocked into me?” I handed her some paintbrushes I've picked up from the edges of my shoes.

“Well, it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for you stopping out of no where..and I don't need your help.” She quickly took them away from my hands and continued gathering what seemed like art supplies that were scattered on the pavement.

“So you were following me?” I asked her teasingly.

“Following you? Why would I even do that, how was I supposed to know that it was you with that hood on?” She pointed at me, looking rather irritated.

“Hey, look, if this is regarding what happened yesterday, I owe you an apology.” I quickly replied, it must've hurt getting hit that hard, and I'm being completely honest that it really was an accident!

She got up to her feet and brushed off some dirt off from her knees without saying a word. I can't help but feel a little guilty, but play it cool, Neymar.

“Alright. I think we started off on the wrong foot.” I stood up and reached my right hand out to her. “My name is Neymar, i'm twenty one and I play for FC Barcelona.” There was was a short pause. Hoping that she'd do the same, she reached out for my hand to give me a handshake.

 “My name is Avanna, nineteen and it is a pleasure to meet you, Neymar.” She put on a bright smile that showed her two dimples on each side of her face, I couldn't help but do the same.