10

"Okay, that will be all," I said and got up, straightening out my outfit and reaching across the desktop to shake his hand in goodbye. "Thank you for your time."

Sepp smiled and took my hand firmly in his own. "The pleasure was all mine, my dear," he said slowly.

I nodded curtly and dismissed myself. His tone of voice wasn't one I would ever have any intentions of wanting to hear again. It was too slow, too judging to be able to withstand for more than a couple of minutes.

I sighed, shaking my head at my stupidity. Of course he would be judging! He was the President of FIFA for God's sake! It was never uncommon for people high up in a professional role to look down on little journalists like me.

I was stopped in my tracks when I collided with another person- sending the two of us stumbling to regain our balance, and me failing to do just so. My backside came into hard contact with the stone flooring, and I winced in pain and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I should have been looking where I was going," I muttered apologetically, getting on to my knees to start gathering up the things that had escaped my satchel and were scattered around me. I felt slightly ashamed that my colourful stationery and FC Barcelona notepad were now on display. You would generally expect more- mature?- supplies to belong to a journalist.

The victim of my clumsiness laughed. "It's alright," they said, bending down to pick up the feathered blue pencil that had skittered to their feet. "Still into the feathery things, huh?" they asked, jokingly.

It was only then when I lifted my head to glare at them that I realised who I was talking to. My insides churned with excitement; my heart beating a million beats per second and my stomach feeling as if it had suddenly inhabited the population of butterflies on the planet.

The person offered me their hand and helped me to my feet. Only inches separated the two of us as I caught my balance.

"I should have introduced myself earlier, but I wanted to wait until you weren't displaying your pants to me," they said humourously. I gave them a soft, playful punch on the arm and allowed a smile to slip across my lips. "It's like we're best friends already," he added, brown eyes sparkling. "Anyway, my name is Leo. Leo Messi."

I fought the squeal that was building up in my throat as I stared back into his chocolate brown eyes. I knew who he was. I'd watched him playing football for years; on TV and on YouTube clips and on occasion, in real life (the perks of being a La Liga football journalist). He was my idol... And my major crush. And damn he was a lot hotter in real life than what he was in pictures and close-up in-game camera shots.

"Um... My name is," I drew a shaky breath as Leo raised an eyebrow- his expression causing my whole body to feel as if it were on fire, "my name is Catalina. Catalina Aracelle Sanchez. But you can call me Cat."

Leo's lips tugged up into a smirk and he ran his other hand through his brown hair. It was only then that I realised we were still holding hands and involuntarily, I looked down. When I looked back up at Leo, he smiled sheepishly- the faintest blush tainting his cheeks- and let go. I felt the absence of his hand like a void, and I immediately wanted it filled again. But I didn't dare try to make it happen.

"Catalina Aracelle Sanchez, what a name!" he laughed airily, a playful glint in his eyes. "But a beautiful one at that."

I felt the fire burning at two opposite ends of my body and was thankful only the top end was (probably) obvious. "Yeah... But it's too long to say, so i'm alright with you calling me Cat," I said as normally as I could.

Leo smirked again. We stared at each other for a few moments- him oblivious to what was going through my head and vice versa- but I didn't care. I wanted that moment to last for as long as we dared to never break eye contact.

But the moment ended all too soon when Leo looked down at his wrist to check his watch and swore under his breath. "I'm sorry, I really would like to stay and chat- get to know you better- but Blatter wants to see me, and i'm late," he explained, a tinge of regret in his voice. "But I'd love to meet up with you again sometime."

"Is that you asking for my number?" I asked. Leo's smile widened as I rolled my eyes and fished my phone out from my pocket and a pen from my satchel. I considered writing my number on a scrap of paper- but suddenly another thought came to my mind and I found myself backing Leo up against a wall and checking both ways for onlookers.

"Cat, what are you doing?" he asked as I uncapped the pen and puller his t-shirt up- allowing myself access to the perfectly defined V-Line of his abdomen. My mind screamed like a fangirl and I silently thanked myself for not being the type to accidentally let out what I was thinking.

I looked up at him and smiled devilishly as he made eye contact. "You may feel a slight tickling at your pelvic area," I said lowly. I saw him swallow hard and grinned as I set to work scrawling the numbers across the expanse between his hips.

My pen wavered slightly as a shiver ran through his body and I felt myself smirking at the sight of him balling his hands into fists at his side. If he wasn't late for a meeting, I thought, I would drag this out longer.

I smiled at my work and straightened up, capping the pen in front of him and dropping it into my blazer pocket with my phone. He was scowling at me and pouting like a child- willing me to take my hand off of him- and causing me to laugh slightly.

"This. Isn't. Fair," he whined, "I have a meeting to go to and you're fucking turning me on here."

I snapped my hand away at his statement and felt my eyes widen, my cheeks burning furiously. I looked up at him to see the same shocked expression painted across his face. 

"Uh, I think I better get going..." he said slowly, the confidence gone from his voice, as he righted himself. He hestitated for a moment before running his hands through his hair and taking a step in the direction of Sepp Blatter's office. Neither of us wanted to leave.

"Yeah... Yeah I think you'd better," I said, laughing nervously, "I don't want you to get into any more trouble than you're already in for being late."

Leo gave me a small smile and nodded, wringing his hands in front of him. "So, I'll call you?" he said.

"You have my number," I answered and suddenly felt embarrassed for where I'd written it.

I saw him grin knowingly, the sparkle in his eyes returning, and he started back away down the corridor. "Adios, mi hermosa," he said finally before winking, blowing me a kiss, and turning to jog off in the direction of the FIFA President's office.

Leaving me utterly dazed, confused, and still fighting my inner fangirl demon.

"Oh. My. God." I breathed.