Countdown to Christmas. :: Marco Reus.

finale ::

// Marco //

I didn't want to be like the rest of the bunch. Proposal on some rooftop, pull off some crazy stunt or propose on some romantic dinner. I was a footballer. I could do so much better.

Was I even sure that I want to marry Amelia?

No.

I am sure. She's given me 24 gifts so far. Today would make it a perfect 25.

It's not just because she's given me gifts all this time. She's given me love, warmth, possession, control, time and tame - and now we just need a finale.

And I am the one who can provide that.

"Marco!" I heard my name being called from upstairs. I was now a month off my cast, and could move freely around without limping. I was slowly recovering from my ankle injury.

I ran up the staircase to our bedroom, where Amelia was sitting on the bed. "Help, I'm tired." Amelia patted the empty spot beside her on the king sized bed of ours.

I was once again lured in to the bed, and gave in to sleep - with Amelia around my arms and her head, smelling of fresh lavender on my chest. "Marco?" Her soft voice brought me alive again as I hummed in response. "Have you ever thought of... us? Our future?"

I wouldn't say I haven't. I wouldn't say I have either. I've been so torn up over my ankle that I paid no mind to anything else. I know Mats and Ilkay have been bugging me to marry Amelia; because they could see how much she cared and loved me. The way she looked at me when I wasn't looking; The way she cared about me when I was at my lowest point.

"I have," I replied. But she didn't speak back.

I know she wasn't asleep.

Could it be that she doesn't want to spend the rest of her life with me?

Could it be that I was just a fling?

"Amelia?" I felt water soaking my shirt. "Amelia?" I lifted her up to sit, facing me. She was crying, eyes red and her usual radiance fading away. I wiped her tears away with my thumb, kissing her forehead. "What's wrong?"

"I love you, Marco. I would have never thought that you want to spend time with me..." Her words broke my heart, and I held her closer to me. She sobbed even harder.

"God, Amelia. I love you. Don't say that." I am terrible. I really am. All I do is make her feel unhappy.

"I'm okay, I'm okay..." Amelia smiled genuinely, giggling after. "I'm just happy. You know? The happy tears?" I nodded, as if I understood.

I thought of the perfect thing to surprise her for Christmas today. But I'd need some big time help.

"Amelia?" She hummed. "I would like to invite you to Dortmund's game against Werder Bremen tomorrow."

"Why? Are you making a comeback?" I shook my head in return.

"No, but I'd like you to go and watch a Dortmund game with me."

"Okay." She didn't further interrogate more details, which was good.

I'll set to work tonight when she falls asleep.

...

It didn't take too long before Amelia fell asleep on our bed. I began dialing numbers: first to my coach, Jürgen Klopp.

"Marco? Are you alright? It's rare you'd call me." His voice was still energized.

"You know Dortmund's game tomorrow against Bremen? I'd like to just hop in for the last ten minutes. I'm doing something for Amelia. And I'm going to need Bremen's help for that. I want all of them to hold up a 'Will you marry me' sign."