parity | trent alexander-arnold²

twenty-four.

grace under pressure

19/03/20

For what felt like the nth time she had done so, Wynter harshly scrunched up another piece of paper between her fingers before she tossed it across the room, letting out a soft yay when it landed in the bin by the corner much like all the other pieces of paper she chucked beforehand. Though despite the mini celebration, a deadpanned look rested upon her facial features as she exhaled deeply through her nose with pursued lips, leaning back in her spinny chair.

Her tan eyes scanned over her work desk, internally letting out a cry of despair at the sight of lack of work along with the almost empty word document that mocked her with her poor work ethic in that moment of time. When the french player wasn't out on the pitch scoring goals or simply in the sports environment, it wasn't much of a surprise to find her in her office in a deep state of concentration – the room being the main location in her house where Wynter formed and morphed her original notions.

However, for some reason unknown to the player, her amazing work ethic didn't want to shine through at the moment, Wynter struggling to bare ink on sheets of paper along with typed words on her word document – which was odd for Wynter seeing as she always seemed to have her pen to paper whenever she was given the opportunity to convert on her elaborate thoughts into written words for those around her to interpret.

The player dug her hands into her face, letting a muffled scream fly loose from her throat. I have done so much today, she thought. Why can't I get this one job done already?

Upon apprehending a knock on her opened door, she removed her hands from her face to see Reed in a spinney chair much like hers, causing Wynter to tilt her head to the side while her mouth fell open at the odd sight.

"Uh, Dad, what are you doing?" Wynter snorted, finally deciding to sit up in her seat as her dad wheeled himself into the room.

"Well," he started off as he wheeled himself towards Wynter's desk, halting across from her seating position. "I was in your other office doing filing and all for the house in France for your mom but I got bored so here I am," Reed shrugged.

"Mom's going to kill you if you don't get it done," Wynter reached over to grab ahold of her mouse, clicking out of the word document, soon falling upon her email inbox. She rotated the screen so then Reed could catch a view of what she was referring to. "She's already after me to get everything done for today and it's barely even the afternoon!" she exclaimed, pointing towards all the emails sent by Claire that the player had yet to open.

Reed winked at his daughter. "Don't worry. She can't reach us here," he mentioned seeing as Claire was currently stationed in Oakland with the other Reyes sibling. "You can't blame her though. Your mother works a lot so she just likes to be on top of her duties."

"That is true," Wynter sighed softly, crossing her arms. "Hey, dad. Can I tell you something?"

"Go for it," he nodded, placing his undivided attention on her.

Her eyes fell upon her desk before she trained her eye line on her dad, the player showcasing a light grin. "Thanks for staying here with me for the meanwhile, for real. You know, even though I have the boys, Indigo and Reese to come over whenever, sometimes I still feel a bit alone here in Liverpool since I'm solely here for the purpose of football and none of my international teammates are here so. . ."

"I mean, yeah, you and mom visit but it's rare and when either of you are here, you only stay for a week which isn't enough for me 'cause I'm usually busy during that time anyways. So yeah," her gaze drifted back to the desk, her fingers hovering over some of her little notes. "I don't know. Even after almost two years of living here, I still manage to get homesick but I guess you're helping out with that now."