September. || mario gotze ✔️

Eyes and hearts.

A couple of steps filled the living room. The Christmas tree was surrounded by a deep atmosphere, in which Joachim was preparing himself a cup of coffee. The morning air was heavier than usual and the cold had decided to stay in Munich with all its relatives. In an attempt to warm himself up -and his daughter who was still sleeping too- he decided to light the fireplace.

The flames caused him to think in melancholic black and white. 'What is happening? 'Do we really haven't talked for a week? Did we spend Christmas separated?

Questions hit him like books falling from a bookcase. He could feel the answer in every question -every book- but he wasn't able to read it, to understand it. He stood up, trying to control the headache that had grown in him. However, his eyes found something like a little notebook beneath the Christmas tree. He grabbed it, very confused. 'How strange! It's already December 28th' he thought while he read a note with his name written in it. As he opened the notebook, he saw a sheet from a book, in where a painted blond girl stood watching the butterflies flying away. When he turned the page, he was drown in a sea of words:

December 25th.
Mr. Low:

I was told to talk with you and let you explain yourself. I won't do it. At least for now. Anyways, I was taught to be polite, therefore here is my Christmas's's present. It's a little story of my own, that I want you to read carefully.

Let just say that it was a girl. A little one who always found herself watching Alice in Wonderland. Eventually, her growth would give her new imaginations and a lot of new questions. But always about the same topic: her father. She used to close her eyes and imagine she was Alice falling through the hole, going after the white rabbit, arriving to that wonderland of hers, where an adult male figure would lift her up and tickle her stomach. They would walk hand by hand, have a tea party with the Mad Hatter and run away from the Queen of Hearts. But then they would reach the little door and magically Alice would be the only one tiny enough to escape through it, marking off the end of the dream. Coming back to reality, no father would be expecting to see her and enjoying their love.

Now, look at the painting in the first page again. It's Alice standing right there. It's me, although I'm not that blond. It''s me, reading between lines, looking for your love, your confidence and your shelter. It's me, still trying to find you.

Merry Christmas.

Catalina

- - -

The clock alarm rang causing Catalina to wake up immediately. She had decided that day would have a single one purpose: finish her school homework. She went to the kitchen, to get some coffee, but she found her father thinking, with his back resting on the kitchen furniture .

'Catalina, can we talk?' He asked her.
There was no answer.
'Ok, don't look at me if you want to, but please be a girl of your age and listen to me'
She turned around, so she was facing him.

He took a big breath and started.
'Look, I don't expect you to love me or to have any affection towards me, but I do expect respect, because I think I deserve it. I know that I made a mistake. I know that I should've told you about your mother's letter, but I really did it to protect you, from the fear and the worry of being far from the ones you love the most. I apologized and I accept that you don't want to talk with me. But I don't understand what you expect from me, Catalina. I didn't know about you dear. Nobody told me until this year. I would like to but I can't go back in time and attend to your birth. I can't teach you how to ride your bike as if you were six years old. I can't. And I really regret that. Just like you. But we can't live in the past. I can't blame your mother for not telling me neither because all was so messed up that none of us knew where we were standing. And maybe you don't notice but I'm trying really hard to build a future with you, because you're my daughter and although we can't believe it, your apparition was the brightest experience that happened to me in years. I want to get back all these missing years. But I'm not able to do it by myself if you don't help me to plant a present' he stayed quiet, looking how her daughter's eyes were filled with tears. 'I just want us to be happy and to get along with each other, because I believe we can do it'

Joachim offered his hand to her, who took it and approached him to a hug.
Both father and daughter stood like that a long time.

That afternoon, after a silence but comfortable lunch, homework and football lines where left behind, giving a emotionally father-daughter moment.
Photos were spread all over the living room, among smiles and tears. Some belonged to Catalina, some others to Joachim.
Despite their few words, both of them could say that the eyes and the hearts, that time, spoke for themselves.

Hellouuu! Well, hope you like this paternal moment! Next chapter will be new year's party and I have some ideas... :p
Thank you for reading, for the votes and everything, you almost make me cry! :p
Now, I have a question for you: I've been thinking in writing another story in English, so... which footballer would you like to read about? Feel free to express your names!
Thank you again :)