football imagines

best friend (marcelo)

You hung up an began switching through random Netlix selections to try to distract yourself. Anything to divert your attention from the amount of hurt that seemed to flow through your body. Your freshly broken heart would take time to heal, and there's nothing more you wanted than for someone to wake you up from this sad dream. 

Your lips started quivering again. He didn't even have the audacity to confront you. He broke up with you over a text! That's a different type of low. You tried to tell yourself you deserved better, but when it's an issue concerning the heart, logical things don't make sense. It just doesn't work that way. 

Through your tears and heavy thoughts, you heard the doorbell ring. Then you heard it open. There was only one other person who had the keys to your house. Your best friend. 

"Y/N! Y/N!" you heard a voice echo through your house. You turned around to see your best friend in the entire world- Marcelo Vieira. 

"Hey," you said, trying to wipe the tears off your face. You didn't even want to think how horrible you looked with a red nose, puffy eyes, and tear-stained cheeks. 

Marcelo plopped on the couch next to you and held up two bags. "Ice cream? Heard it's the best remedy." 

You gave him a shy smile. "Has anyone told you that you're the best?"

Marcelo laughed, exposing his perfect pearly whites. "Yes, but it doesn't hurt to hear it often."

You shook your head. "What flavor?" you asked. 

"See for yourself," Marcelo replied as he handed the bag to you. You opened it right away. He had gotten double chocolate, birthday cake, raspberry sorbet, and chocolate-caramel-coconut. 

"So many!" you said, surprised. "This will take me forever to finish."

"Not if I can help it," he said, snatching on of the tubs. 

"Aren't you supposed to be on a strict diet of protein and 'good fats'? You do realize you have a match in two weeks."

"Ah, come on. That's all Zizou's job to tell me. You shut up and start eating and let me eat in peace too," Marcelo faked being annoyed. "What do you want to watch?"

"I don't know," you sighed, handing him the remote. "Anything works. Anything that won't remind me of him. Ugh, I already miss him. Is that bad? Like, I know he's a complete ass for breaking up with me over text, but I can't lie and say I hate him."

Marcelo put his tub down and embraced you. "Hey, no one said it was going to be easy." That's when your tears came back and you started crying, ruining his shirt. He didn't mind. "He's a loser for not seeing the lovely person you are. It's all his loss. He's going to regret what he did, but by then, you'll be completely unbothered and living your best life." 

"Really?" you sniffed. "It doesn't seem like it."

"You will be fine. It'll take time, but you'l come out stronger and better. And no one said you need to do this alone. I'm here."

You looked up and smiled at him. "Even when you have training?"

Marcelo scrunched his nose. "If you take responsibility of my funeral after Zizou murders me." 

You laughed and grabbed an ice cream tub. "Sure, sure. I'll make sure your eulogy contains all of your embarrassing moments." 

Marcelo crossed his eyebrows. "If you do that, I will make sure my ghost releases all the videos I have of you on my phone. And the pictures too." 

You both laughed. "Let's watch Winnie the Pooh," you shouted out. 

"Winnie the Pooh it is," Marcelo agreed. 

"Who would believe Marcelo Vieira, world-class footballer, would break his strict diet and watch Winnie the Pooh with a girl crying over a stupid boy," you shook your head. 

Marcelo smiled as he took the remote and turned on Winnie the Pooh. You wondered just how fortunate you got having Marcelo as your best friend. He was one of the best parts of your life. He just came into your house and was already turning your horrible day into a great one just by being there, with his infectious smile and big heart.