imbalance | trent alexander-arnold¹

six.

a budding link

The french girl sat slumped on her couch watching tv in her living room. A few days had passed since the match against Tottenham and Wynter felt as though she was in perfect condition. Physically and surprisingly, mentally too. Well, if you excused her nose, then her health ticked all the boxes.

After the match came to a close, the swollen bruises on her face became more clear to the naked eye while the faded pain had somehow made its sudden return. She could still participate within the upcoming matches though she was rather dreading them as it was required for her to sport a protective mask for those matches, knowing she would receive endless teases from her teammates.

Uh, this is so boring, she thought as she watched some random french rom-com. As she went to grab the remote, there was a sudden knock on the door. She frowned, not expecting anyone to come to visit. She rose up from her comfortable position and made her way towards her front door. When she opened the door, her brows furrowed instantly at the sight of the person who stood in front of her. "Trent?"

"Yeah, hey," Trent stood before her with his hands shoved in his pockets and a shy smile. However, his face soon softened when he focused his attention of the faint marks resting along her nose. "It's gotten had worse, hasn't it?"

"I bit, I guess," she sighed, "But, it's just how it heals, so yeah. I can't say or do much about it." she replied, glancing down at her shoeless feet. She focused her attention back on the scouse. "Oh, uh, do you want to come in? If you told me that you were coming, it would have given me a chance to look decent." She glanced down at her attire in disgust. A pair of navy-blue sweats along with a white tank top.

"I think you look perfectly fine, to be honest," Trent shrugged as he passed by her tiny physique. "Well, maybe if you lose the pants. It's not the best look on you, especially here in Liverpool." He said, pointing to the french symbol on her trousers.

Wynter simply laughed as she followed after Trent back into the living room. "I wear PSG clothes with pure pride."

"Okay then, but don't blame me when people start calling you a traitor," Trent muttered to himself, but the french girl heard him loud and clear.

The pair got themselves situated on of Wynter's couches – the one in which she had previously found comfort in. The scouse sat across from his teammate though close enough for Wynter to collapse her toned legs on Trent's. "So, what brings you here?"

"I just wanted to stop by to see how you're doing. I've noticed that whenever I come over you're either alone or your mum's over for her usual visits. Or when some of the guys are over with their partners. I've never seen anyone I don't know in your house."

"All my friends live in France Trent so I'm obviously not going to know anyone here but the team. I, of course, want to make friends outside of football, but I don't think I can with being famous and all. Everyone here in Liverpool lives and breathes football, so it just won't work out in the end. Believe me, I've tried." 

"You have? Tell me about it."

"A few days ago, I went out to a nearby library because I wanted to relax before one of our games. And so that day in the library, I was reading a book series and then all of a sudden, some guy sits next to me and continues to explain that he loves the series I was reading. Turned out that we'd a few things in common. 

"He asked for my number, so maybe we could hang out and I did. After like half an hour of chatting and stuff, we left the library together. I got in my car, he goes in his. As I was driving near to my house, I noticed that a car that looked just like his had been following me for the past while and I realised it was him! He had been following me home. So I had to circle around a few blocks before I lost him."

Once she concluded her little narration, Wynter squinted her eyes at Trent as he let out a hushed laugh but tried to cover it up with a lame cough, concealing his lips in the process. She simply kept her glaze on the defender until he ultimately gave in, letting out a series of chuckles. "What? I was scared! What else was I supposed to do?" she said, lightly kicking his legs with her own.

"Okay, okay," Trent took in a deep breath, attempting to dissipate the laughter in his system. "Alright, I'm sorry okay? That wasn't very kind of me. He had your number, init? What did you do about that?"

"Yeah, it wasn't," she huffed, running her slender fingers through her hair. Wynter tilted her head back, closing her eyes. "When I got home, I immediately blocked him, but then he could have also leaked my number so the next day I got a new number. That's why I came into training that day going around with my new number. I'm not even kidding around when I say this, Trent. I was so scared that I told my mom about it and she almost hired a bodyguard for me, again." 

"I mean, from everything that you've told me that does sound like your mom," Trent shook his head, getting his final chuckles out. "But back on track. Uh, so what you've tried to make a friend and it didn't work out? You can make other friends, it'll just take time."

Slowly, Wynter shook her head. "I don't think I can, I'm the worst socialiser when it comes to anyone who isn't involved with football."

"What about all the wags?"

She shrugged, holding her blanket close to her body. "They're involved in football because of their partners. They're all great, but I don't see anything happening if I'm with them that I'll enjoy. I can't play a game of football with them as I do with the team. I just don't think it'd work out in the long run. I don't think I'd fit in with them as a group. But it's okay because I got the team."

"Awe, how sweet, you love us," Trent teased in a mimicking voice as he placed a hand on his heart. He held his hand out to Wynter. "Come here."

Without question, Wynter moved from her position on the couch and made her way over to Trent. She sat in between his legs, her back leaned against his toned chest, which rose up and down in a chilled manner. His chin nicely settled upon her head due to the slight height difference between them. When their bodies met in the middle, Wynter felt her face flush, the player thankful that she wasn't actually facing the defender.

It wasn't uncommon for the pair to find themselves in the spot that they were both currently in. It was one of the ways in which they opened up to each other about pretty much any topic that they could find themselves bringing up to discussion.

For the rest of the balmy day, Trent and Wynter trailed away and towards topic to topic, chatting away about the most random topics they could think of. Whether it was football-related or not, they somehow kept the conversation smoothly flowing. There was never a moment where Wynter found herself bored out of her mind when she was with the scouse.

It amazed Wynter as to how she never found her in an awkward position whenever she was in Trent's presence. With the simple slip of words flowing past his lips, the scouse managed to keep the french player entertained in times when she planned to drown herself in boredom. He didn't need to perform any grand gesture or serenade Wynter in any way to grasp her attention—though she didn't have the heart to voice it out loud, his air within hers was enough for Wynter to place her undivided attention on the defender.

A conversation that would take the pair a long way within what they had going on for each other. Neither of them said nor spoke about it to anyone because they didn't notice what was actually developing between them or they didn't sense those sparks themselves—only those around them could point it out for them. Naturally, the media, the team and the reporters had recently seen the clear chemistry that they shared within training and matches. Though no one had seen any kind of sign that one player would be attracted to the other one. 

But, of course, there were always those few who suspected something.

——

[ edited—30/04/20 ]