Crismes Forever

Chapter 8: Back in... White?

(Hello everyone, its been a while. I didn't expect to come back to see a thousand reads on my story. I thought I'd make it up to you guys by continuing it. Sorry I took such a long break!)

James was all that I could think about, Jamesito this, Jamesito that. These two weeks felt like an eternity. If only he was Portuguese, or if only I was Colombian. Then we'd not have to worry about this mess at all. We'd be in the same team together, all the time, club and country. I arrived back in Spain first since my games were closer, we played against Bulgaria and the Netherlands. We beat Bulgaria pretty badly and just squeaked by the Netherlands, winning 1-0. James faced Bolivia and won, and Brazil and lost. He was halfway across the world, it felt so lonely, so cold. I mean I love Pepe and Quaresma but they're not the same, not at all. No one was my James. Weeks felt like months, days felt like weeks, hours felt like days... But finally the time would come when James was back in my arms, back in Madrid, back in white. 

"Cris!" James yelled when he walked into the training complex. I turned around instantly, I recognised that voice from anywhere! I opened my arms wide for a hug. He ran into my arms as if it was something out of a film. I looked down at him and kissed him on the top of his head. His hair still smelled of shampoo. His touch was warm, soft, and tender. I put my mouth next to his ear and whispered "Jamesito, I hate being without you, you're what I long for. You make me so so happy". He giggled and looked up into my eyes. He whispered three words, "I love you." Those three words made me weak at the knees. He'd said them to me before, tens, no, hundreds of times. But those were the three words that would always get to me. We hugged for a few more moments as Varane and Benzema looked on, but they didn't mind, they were used to it. As much as I wanted to go down on James right then and there, we had work to do.

We went onto the training pitch. Carlo told us that we were going to work on finishing today. "Oh James, you already know I'm a good finisher." I whispered into his ear with a naughty look on my face. He laughed and replied "Oh yes I do Cris, oh yes I do!" We giggled and everyone knew we were talking dirty to each other. It was so blatant but Carlo just rolled his eyes. The team was split into two, half went to one goal, half went to the other. The defenders would feed balls to us attackers and midfielders from the back, it was then our job to put them past Navas and Iker. James did so well at this drill as per usual. He was so graceful in his turning. He definitely could compete with me! He made Navas grow extremely frustrated, but to be fair to Keylor, I'd be frustrated as well. It was then my turn, Sergio Ramos lobbed the ball in the air and it landed perfectly at my feet but took a bounce. It was a perfect set up for a volley. I hit it with power and it blazed past Keylor Navas. I almost felt bad until he jokingly pushed me down. "You're a big lad but you fall over like a sack of potatoes!" He joked. I pretended to hit him in his arm and said "Verrrrry funny Keylor, you're such a comedian!" He and I cracked up. The drill was over and then we went to go and do sprints. I ran with James on one side, and my best friend Marcelo on the other. After sprints we ate a high protein and low carb lunch. James and I shared a table. We talked about how we did with our national teams and how our families in our respective homes were doing. Afterwards we hit the showers and things got a little, well, spicy...