The sunlight went through his window and hit directly his face. That bright light made him struggle with his sleep. Rest, ice, compression and elevation is what his next two weeks were going to be about. He obviously wasn't looking forward to it, he couldn't drive, he couldn't move too much, he couldn't kick a ball for a while... What's the point of getting out of bed today? Moving around was going to waste too much energy and he wasn't up to that.
As soon as he raised his right hand and wanted to block the sun with it, it suddenly went away, the bright light that was annoying him was gone and hid behind the grey clouds that were starting to cover the sky. The sudden disappearence of the sun actually made him open his eyes. He groaned.
He looked around his room looking for his crutches, his company for the next days. They were next to his night stand, exactly where he left them. They were not going to move anyway.
His house, somehow, seemed more silent than ever. It must be the weather or his injury but it was almost sad. The sound of the spoon hitting the sides of the bowl made it a bit bearable. He ate breakfast slowly, taking his own time, yawning every 7 seconds. This was going to be a fun day, he thought.
One hour passes since he woke up, his small and black pug dog was already awake, watching TV next to him. The Jeremy Kyle Show wasn't much of his style, though he must confess, it was interesting and funny, perfect to make the time pass by.
His eyes began to feel heavy, yawns were continuos until he gave in and let his eyes close, as soon as he felt the darkness was going to take him, the feet of his dog on his lap, took it away. He woke up and saw his pug jumping out from the couch and ran to the glass doors blocking the way to his backyard.
The dog barked and scratched the glass "Balboa, no!" Mesut yelled from the couch but the dog didn't listen to him "Balboa!" No answer.
Feeling a bit annoyed he grabbed his crutches and got up from his comfortable position. He made his way to his dog, yelling his name, trying to make him stop when the doorbell rang. He groaned "Balboa!" This time, his dog ran towards the door and waited, at least he didn't bark. He heard knocks on the door, it seemed like whoever was outside, was in a hurry. That made him drag his feet faster and wasted more energy. He snorted "Balboa, sit" He commanded once he arrived to the door. He grabbed both crutches with one hand and slowly opened the door, keeping an eye on his dog.
As he turned his gaze outside, his eyes had to go down, meeting a kid's green eyes. It took him more than a second to react since the kid looked surprised and it made him feel confused.
"Em...Em...Good morning! Em...Sorry for disturbing you but em... I accidentally kick my ball to your backyard" A smile marked the end of his very interrupted sentence "Are you Mesut Özil?"
"I think so" Mesut smiled at the kid who smiled wider "Do you mind getting the ball yourself? I am bit injured"
The kid simply nodded. He seemed like a nice kid si he let him get into his house, pat his dog and indicated him where was the backyard. Mesut was about to close the door when a voice made him stop, a female voice which was coming towards him.
"Matthew!" The voice yelled.
"That's my aunt" The kid said as he made his way to the glass doors.
"Matth-" Mesut could finally put face to the voice. Her eyes kind of widened at first but then her eyebrows frowned in confusion "Sorry, did a kid knock on your door?" She asked.
"Yes, he's getting the ball in my backyard" Mesut responded.
"I am sorry about that, he just kept kicking it up to the air"
"It's fine" He smiled. The kid took his time to get the ball because it took time to have an uncomfortable silence between them. The wind kept blowing and her brown hair got messy, she kept fixing it and cursing under her breath.
"Damn, what an annoying wind" Her comment was unexpected and he just laughed at it, not even trying to continue with the conversation "It just keep ruining my hair"
Mesut didn't answer. What was he supposed to answer?
The kid, whose name was Matthew, came back with a white and red ball, Balboa by his side. The woman's eyes went down the dog and she even called him. Balboa, of course, ran towards her.
"I like your ball" Mesut said to the kid.
"We should play!" The kid's smile vanished as he remembered Mesut had something around one of his leg "In a month, perhaps?"
"Sure, I will let you know when I am fine"
The kid nodded and already walked towards the gate, Mesut called Balboa as soon as he noticed the woman was wanting to leave too.
"Well" She fixed her hair for the eleventh time "See you around, neighbour?"
"See you around"
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It's short. I just want to know first who is going to follow this FF! Please I would love to know your thoughts about it!x
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High Voltage (Mesut Özil Fanfic)
Fanfiction[Discontinued sorry!!!] 24 years old, rich, football player and injured. One month of recovery ahead. It might be long and boring. What if he meets someone who would definitely change that?
