Queen
Rückschlag
The remainder of dinner that night went smoothly. Marco changed the topic to football and I was relieved. He didn't expect to me to respond to his declaration of love; I think he knew he just dumped a lot of stuff on me.
The next morning he left early for Dortmund’s game against Borussia ‘Gladbach. I was relieved that I got some time to myself. I switched between Tumblr and Youtube until it was time to turn on the tv to watch his game. I spent most of the game swearing at Dortmund’s inability to finish.
I saw Marco down on the pitch late in the game but I wasn't worried since he got right back in game afterwards.
As a footballer, Kramer’s own goal was painful to watch. but as a Dortmund fan I was glad that they finally won. Marco was also happy when he got home. But I noticed that he was limping. “Marco!” I yelled.
“What?” he sounded surprised.
“Did you hurt your ankle? You’re limping.” I walked over to where he was standing in front of the fridge.
He turned around to face me, “It’s fine, just tweaked it a little I think.”
I didn't fully believe him because he was standing with his weight on just his right leg. I bent down quickly and pulled his left leg of his sweatpants up to reveal his swollen ankle. “Marco! I’m gonna call Jurgen, where’s your phone?”
“Ok, number one its not that bad, and number two he doesn't know who you are.” I raised my eyebrow but decided to ignore that last comment and made him sit on the counter while I got an ice pack. I placed the ice pack gently on his ankle and held it there. Marco’s ankle clearly still needed to fully heal and playing two international games on it would only do more damage. I raised my eyebrow again at him and he slumped his shoulder like a child who had been caught in a lie. “I’ll see the medical staff tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Ok good, because I love you,” I kissed him quickly and helped him to the couch.
~~~~~~~~~
I drove Marco to Dortmund’s training ground to see the medical staff. We got out of the car and he lead me into the grounds. “This is really nice,” I whispered in his ear as we paused the sauna.
Just then we arrived in the medical room to find Jurgen Klopp and some physios. “Oh hallo,” Jurgen said when he saw me. Marco introduced us then the physios quickly got to work looking at Marco’s ankle. I took a seat in the corner of the room while Klopp stood alongside Marco.
I checked my phone and saw a text from Christie Rampone, the US national team captain. <How you doing kid? riley and reese have been asking about you>. I greatly admired Christie for balancing an insanely successful career with two kids. <still in Germany. can’t wait to see them in Algarve>. Our next big tournament was in Algarve, Portugal in late January. The national team was my home, really. Every time I step on the field in the US uniform I remember why I love this sport so much.
I looked up from my phone after hearing Marco hiss in frustration. “My guess is that there is another small tear. Give it another two weeks of rest,” one of the physios said.
Klopp patted Marco’s shoulder. Marco shook his head but didn’t say anything. The physios further examined his ankle while Klopp sat next to me. “Chelsea Ladies, right?”
I was a little surprised; I wasn’t used to these two footballing worlds converging. “Yes,” I said nodding my head.
“Ahh, now I understand his sudden interest in women’s football.” Klopp said. Before I could respond, Marco hobbled over on a pair of crutches. Klopp stood up and patted his shoulder one more time and said, “Go home and get some rest, I’ll let Loew know.”
By the time we got back to his house he was a grumpy mood. I had seen him going through his phone and remembered that the movie about the World Cup team came out today. Now he was injured again and reminded of what he had missed this summer. Once inside, I got a notification on my phone from a football app: "Marco Reus pulls out of upcoming international matches due to another ankle injury". Holy tits, that was quick, I thought. I deleted the notification, deciding it wasn't worth discussing with him.
I felt Marco grab my around the waist from behind in a hug and bury his face in the crook of my neck. “You ok?” I asked. He sighed so I turned around in his arms to face him. I knew he was thinking what he missing right now and what he would miss in the next two weeks. “Football isn’t all fangirls and goals, huh?”
He scoffed, “No it isn’t. This sucks.”
I pouted and patted his cheeks, “Poor baby. We’ll have to do something to cheer you up.” I grabbed his hand and lead him to his bedroom.
The next morning he left early for Dortmund’s game against Borussia ‘Gladbach. I was relieved that I got some time to myself. I switched between Tumblr and Youtube until it was time to turn on the tv to watch his game. I spent most of the game swearing at Dortmund’s inability to finish.
I saw Marco down on the pitch late in the game but I wasn't worried since he got right back in game afterwards.
As a footballer, Kramer’s own goal was painful to watch. but as a Dortmund fan I was glad that they finally won. Marco was also happy when he got home. But I noticed that he was limping. “Marco!” I yelled.
“What?” he sounded surprised.
“Did you hurt your ankle? You’re limping.” I walked over to where he was standing in front of the fridge.
He turned around to face me, “It’s fine, just tweaked it a little I think.”
I didn't fully believe him because he was standing with his weight on just his right leg. I bent down quickly and pulled his left leg of his sweatpants up to reveal his swollen ankle. “Marco! I’m gonna call Jurgen, where’s your phone?”
“Ok, number one its not that bad, and number two he doesn't know who you are.” I raised my eyebrow but decided to ignore that last comment and made him sit on the counter while I got an ice pack. I placed the ice pack gently on his ankle and held it there. Marco’s ankle clearly still needed to fully heal and playing two international games on it would only do more damage. I raised my eyebrow again at him and he slumped his shoulder like a child who had been caught in a lie. “I’ll see the medical staff tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Ok good, because I love you,” I kissed him quickly and helped him to the couch.
~~~~~~~~~
I drove Marco to Dortmund’s training ground to see the medical staff. We got out of the car and he lead me into the grounds. “This is really nice,” I whispered in his ear as we paused the sauna.
Just then we arrived in the medical room to find Jurgen Klopp and some physios. “Oh hallo,” Jurgen said when he saw me. Marco introduced us then the physios quickly got to work looking at Marco’s ankle. I took a seat in the corner of the room while Klopp stood alongside Marco.
I checked my phone and saw a text from Christie Rampone, the US national team captain. <How you doing kid? riley and reese have been asking about you>. I greatly admired Christie for balancing an insanely successful career with two kids. <still in Germany. can’t wait to see them in Algarve>. Our next big tournament was in Algarve, Portugal in late January. The national team was my home, really. Every time I step on the field in the US uniform I remember why I love this sport so much.
I looked up from my phone after hearing Marco hiss in frustration. “My guess is that there is another small tear. Give it another two weeks of rest,” one of the physios said.
Klopp patted Marco’s shoulder. Marco shook his head but didn’t say anything. The physios further examined his ankle while Klopp sat next to me. “Chelsea Ladies, right?”
I was a little surprised; I wasn’t used to these two footballing worlds converging. “Yes,” I said nodding my head.
“Ahh, now I understand his sudden interest in women’s football.” Klopp said. Before I could respond, Marco hobbled over on a pair of crutches. Klopp stood up and patted his shoulder one more time and said, “Go home and get some rest, I’ll let Loew know.”
By the time we got back to his house he was a grumpy mood. I had seen him going through his phone and remembered that the movie about the World Cup team came out today. Now he was injured again and reminded of what he had missed this summer. Once inside, I got a notification on my phone from a football app: "Marco Reus pulls out of upcoming international matches due to another ankle injury". Holy tits, that was quick, I thought. I deleted the notification, deciding it wasn't worth discussing with him.
I felt Marco grab my around the waist from behind in a hug and bury his face in the crook of my neck. “You ok?” I asked. He sighed so I turned around in his arms to face him. I knew he was thinking what he missing right now and what he would miss in the next two weeks. “Football isn’t all fangirls and goals, huh?”
He scoffed, “No it isn’t. This sucks.”
I pouted and patted his cheeks, “Poor baby. We’ll have to do something to cheer you up.” I grabbed his hand and lead him to his bedroom.