Greyhound [Marcus Rashford]

12

"You can't be serious? Never?" I question Marcus, as he tells me that he's never seen Parks and Recreation while we're searching for Netflix shows to watch. "It's like the best show of all time!"

"I don't have time to invest in new shows," he tells me, as if that's an actual excuse. "We can watch it if it'll make you feel better."

We put season 1 on as background noise while we talk. Neither of us can believe that it is our last night together. His plane takes off at 6 am tomorrow, and then the future for us is very hazy. I just want to enjoy this time together for as long as I can. We just lay in my bed, holding hands and cuddling for the whole night.

"I know you hate it when I thank you for spending time with me, but thank you for making Chicago just as special to me as it is to you. Soldier Field is now my favorite place in the world," he tells me.

"In that case, I need to thank you for making Soldier Field a place of happiness again. You'll never see me crying there, ever again," I respond while kissing his cheek.

"I don't believe that. It doesn't take much to make you cry. You teared up yesterday when you saw a cute puppy in a stroller on the pier," he jokes with me.

"In my defense it was a corgi. They're just so cute!"

"I can't wait for you to see all of the corgis when we're back together in England. I might need to carry tissues with me when we leave the house," he laughs.

"I don't cry that much!" I defend myself, "But I can't wait to see you again in England. It just seems so far away." I can't help but tear up, gosh darn my uncontrollable, female hormones.

"Please don't cry," he pulls me closer into a hug, but gets out of bed a minute later. "I'll be right back."

He dashes out of the room. I have nothing to do but worry until he returns 15 minutes later. He re-enters the room, and I smile when I see what he has in each of his hands.

"You did not make the hotel staff make ice cream sundaes at 12 am!" I yell at him.

"Of course I did. Nothing like a healthy midnight snack before we go to sleep."

We dig in and I would be lying if I said the ice cream made me calm down a little. Marcus always seems to know how to calm me down. To be fair, ice cream is pretty much the way to any girls heart.

Eventually we decide we ought to go to sleep since we have to get up at 4 am to make it to the airport in time for the team's check in. You also never know with Chicago traffic. I put on my super attractive pajamas, an XL t-shirt that I caught at a Colts game last year and some soffe shorts, and head to bed where Marcus is waiting for me, shirtless might I add. I knew he was an athlete, but the full extent to his strength and fitness manifests itself in an impressive six-pack. Maybe I should join a gym after I drop Marcus off tomorrow.

"Goodnight, Peyton," he whispers into my ear as he wraps his arms around me. I feel so comfortable and secure in his embrace. He kisses me with care and passion, like it's our last goodbye.

"Goodnight, Marcus."

Little did I know, our goodnight would be our goodbye