ONE SHOTS - Football ✔️

(1) Marcus Rashford

Three Empty Words

She stared out of the window, tears seeming to stream down her faces as she looked up at the man who she had loved for the majority of her teenage years. The realisation had shocked her into tears. She gripped onto the window sill, looking around her desperately for support.

"Say it again," she whispered, looking up at him. Her eyes were pleading with him and he drew in a breath. Marcus moved a step closer, studying her face with a confused wrinkle in his brow.

"I love you," he repeated. The words felt hollow, echoing around her head until she felt as if she were going to throw up. His voice shook, raw with the shock of what he could see so clearly written on her face.

"Nope," she replied, her head vigorously shaking, mind flashing back to the moments of the past few weeks.

Awkward silences filled with forced conversation.

The gifts that she awoke to each morning with a note that made her rethink her decision.

The wall between them when they were next to each other.

The hesitant way they would look at each other before their eyes fell back to their laps.

The fights.

"Stop, Marcus, just stop," she muttered. He drew closer, attempting to pull her into a hug. She was shaking as she spoke. "We just don't work anymore. I don't know why but I don't think we've loved each other the same way since we were 18."

"That's stupid," he spluttered. "You can't mean that. You can't."

"This isn't love, not the love we used to have." His eyes grew wide at her words.

"You can't. I promise; I love you."

"Bye, Marcus," she whispered. She moved quickly past him, climbing the stairs to their room where her clothes were already packed. He trailed up the stairs behind her, pausing outside the door.

"What can I do to make you stay?"

She turned to face him, suitcase in hand, the corners of her lips tilted downwards. "You can't."

Before pushing past his lifeless form, she brushed a quick kiss to his cheek. "Goodbye."

❇️