The Gray Case

thirty-two

He is all skin and color. Pink glow with golden beams reflect sharp and clear on his bare, tense back.

The sky knows him well today—it's painted a gloomy, nostalgic blue deep down, yet the surface knows the greatness of today's hours and because of that, it explodes in vibrant happiness, just the way he does.

Maya watches him from behind. Laid on his bed, Alexander's sheets are soft against her body. Her head peaks from under the covers just to look at him and to be a participant to whatever he's feeling right now.

"Won't you miss it?"

Maya's question comes from knowing that, by Alexander's will, today's match is going to be his last one.

His muscles relax almost in relief while he stops packing up his bag and rests his forearms on his laps, turning to Maya with a tight-lipped smile—he already know some the meaning of her question.

"I'll miss everything about it... the adrenaline, the people screaming out our names, the hope, the losses and the wins, my teammates, my coach. Absolutely everything."

She tilts her head to the side, scanning the lines of his features, squinting her eyes to look at him—she says she sees him better this way.

"Remind me why you are quitting, then. Are you sure about this? Won't you regret it?" Her questions bolt quick and before she trips from the edges of her words she stops her tongue for a second, furrowing her brow in worry.

He doesn't think too much before giving her an answer. "Maybe I'll regret it for a short while when I'll see my college's team playing knowing that I could do so much better than them," he says with a laugh, instantly making her laugh too.

"But other than that, I don't think I'll regret it. I'll miss football with all my heart because it has always been everything for me. I guess it's natural that it's so bittersweet leaving it all behind right now. I grew up with it, I literally breathed it. But things have changed, I have changed and I just don't see it as my priority anymore."

She stands, stripping off his covers and leaning against the wall behind her.

"You know I just want you to be happy in the end."

He joins her as he stands in front of her, planting wet, new, kisses in the concave of her neck, before burying his face right there, right where his peace resides.

"I know you do and I promise you that I will be, 'cause it's true when I tell you that being a football star isn't my ultimate goal in life."

His voice is muffled against her skin and she finds herself smiling while gently running her fingers through his hair, caressing it.

"Tell me about your goal, then."

He shifts his head from her body and he's now looking directly at her.

"To be honest, I know that I could do anything, and still be set for life. I could be a student-athlete, I could fuck around, hell I could waste all these years doing nothing and still have way more than what I deserve! But I really don't want to. I've always wanted to study business but now I know I want to be the best I can be at it. I want to earn everything I'll have in life. I want to work in my dad's company, yes, but I also have so many ideas that I can't wait to start something of my own, you know? I just want to make the best out of what I have, creating something greater."

She cups his face in her two hands and looks at him—he has never been so sure, so bright.

He has grown and molded himself into all of that security that he has always wished to achieve. The stubborn fear of the endings of all things in life that eats him up on a regular basis, is still there, maybe, but transparent and untouchable.