Queen
Geduld
We ended up going to dinner that night. We took a picture together at the table and that’s the one he posted to Instagram. We both liked the idea of not giving a lot away to the media/world right away so Marco simply captioned it with the emoji with the sunglasses.
I started getting texts from friends and “friends” about the picture. I started to get nervous; it would be hard to go back now. I started shaking my leg up and down during dinner. “What’s wrong,” Marco titled his head and leaned close.
“Nothing, Marco,” I forced a smile. I was so used to being alone, to being able to pack all my stuff up in a few bags and move, and to being not connect permanently to anyone. I dealt with my dad’s death by isolating myself, my brother did the same thing. I didn’t want to explain this to Marco yet. It’s easier to remain silent than have to take myself back to that time, because it hurts. Yet I hated the unknown. “I’m going on home next Tuesday for Thanksgiving...” I trailed off, he kept listening intently, “I don’t know if I will stay there for a while or come back or what...”
Marco started moving his mouth and frowned a bit. He looked away and I felt my anxiety increase. <what was he thinking about?>
“I want you to come back and stay, but I know that’s selfish of me,” he said. His eyes were sad. “I want you to stay, but it’s up to you.”
I let that sink in for a few moments before coming to a conclusion. “I would love to spend more time here but I can’t you promise anything right now,” I said slowly, carefully selecting my words, “but I will try. Is that good for now?”
He reached across the table to grab both my hands. He squeezed them and said, “Yes, it is, thank you.” With that he kissed me, and I was starting to see just how amazingly patient this footballer was.
~~~~~
“I want you to come to the match today," Marco said as he tried to pull the covers from over my head.
I promptly re-cocooned myself in the blankets. "What match?" I muttered.
"The test match with the youth team. I told you about it yesterday." He kissed my cheek through the covers.
<Oh right> I thought. Marco had recovered surprising fast from his latest injury setback. "Are you ready for that?" I peeked my eyes over the covers.
"Ja, my ankle feels fine." He pulled the covers down further. "I think Mats will be there. You'll get along well."
I attempted to pull the covers up again, I didn't want to leave my warm cocoon of sleep yet. "Mmmmmm, ok, sounds good."
"Do I have to wake up, liebe?" With that he ducked under the covers and pulled me against his body. I slipped my hands under his shirt and my feet between his knees: he was like a human space heater. "I'll give you a tour of BVB's training ground," he offered.
"Ok, ok. Just let me sleep for 10 more minutes." He kissed me then jumped out of bed to get ready. I yelped a little at the loss of my personal space heater but quickly fell back asleep.
~~~~
I sat in the stands alongside the training pitch. A few other people were scattered in the stands: parents and friends of the youth players I assumed. The wind cut across my face and I zipped my coat to cover my my neck.
I loved watching Marco play. I love players that can cut through a defense and cross to set up a teammate but who know when to do which. I had grown up watching Premier League football, mostly Liverpool. The owner of the Boston Red Sox also owns Liverpool so their games were televised on the local station a lot. I appreciated the physicality of the Bundesliga though.
Marco was playing well, of course. He didn't hold back when he burst forward in attack and didn't shy away from any tackles. The captain's armband looked cute on him, too.
The final whistle blew and the sound echoed off the nearly empty complex. Marco ran his hand through his sweaty--still freshly dyed--hair. He started walking across the pitch in my direction. He reached the fence between the pitch and the stands and I stayed seated. He smiled, “Come here.”
I shook my head, “It’s too cold.” I pulled my hood around my face. Marco hopped the fence in one swift movement. “What are you doing?” I laughed.
He took me hand and pulled me up. “Just follow me.” Before taking the next step he pulled me into a deep kiss.
I crinkled my nose, “You smell.” He laughed and slung his arm my shoulder to walk towards the training complex.
I started getting texts from friends and “friends” about the picture. I started to get nervous; it would be hard to go back now. I started shaking my leg up and down during dinner. “What’s wrong,” Marco titled his head and leaned close.
“Nothing, Marco,” I forced a smile. I was so used to being alone, to being able to pack all my stuff up in a few bags and move, and to being not connect permanently to anyone. I dealt with my dad’s death by isolating myself, my brother did the same thing. I didn’t want to explain this to Marco yet. It’s easier to remain silent than have to take myself back to that time, because it hurts. Yet I hated the unknown. “I’m going on home next Tuesday for Thanksgiving...” I trailed off, he kept listening intently, “I don’t know if I will stay there for a while or come back or what...”
Marco started moving his mouth and frowned a bit. He looked away and I felt my anxiety increase. <what was he thinking about?>
“I want you to come back and stay, but I know that’s selfish of me,” he said. His eyes were sad. “I want you to stay, but it’s up to you.”
I let that sink in for a few moments before coming to a conclusion. “I would love to spend more time here but I can’t you promise anything right now,” I said slowly, carefully selecting my words, “but I will try. Is that good for now?”
He reached across the table to grab both my hands. He squeezed them and said, “Yes, it is, thank you.” With that he kissed me, and I was starting to see just how amazingly patient this footballer was.
~~~~~
“I want you to come to the match today," Marco said as he tried to pull the covers from over my head.
I promptly re-cocooned myself in the blankets. "What match?" I muttered.
"The test match with the youth team. I told you about it yesterday." He kissed my cheek through the covers.
<Oh right> I thought. Marco had recovered surprising fast from his latest injury setback. "Are you ready for that?" I peeked my eyes over the covers.
"Ja, my ankle feels fine." He pulled the covers down further. "I think Mats will be there. You'll get along well."
I attempted to pull the covers up again, I didn't want to leave my warm cocoon of sleep yet. "Mmmmmm, ok, sounds good."
"Do I have to wake up, liebe?" With that he ducked under the covers and pulled me against his body. I slipped my hands under his shirt and my feet between his knees: he was like a human space heater. "I'll give you a tour of BVB's training ground," he offered.
"Ok, ok. Just let me sleep for 10 more minutes." He kissed me then jumped out of bed to get ready. I yelped a little at the loss of my personal space heater but quickly fell back asleep.
~~~~
I sat in the stands alongside the training pitch. A few other people were scattered in the stands: parents and friends of the youth players I assumed. The wind cut across my face and I zipped my coat to cover my my neck.
I loved watching Marco play. I love players that can cut through a defense and cross to set up a teammate but who know when to do which. I had grown up watching Premier League football, mostly Liverpool. The owner of the Boston Red Sox also owns Liverpool so their games were televised on the local station a lot. I appreciated the physicality of the Bundesliga though.
Marco was playing well, of course. He didn't hold back when he burst forward in attack and didn't shy away from any tackles. The captain's armband looked cute on him, too.
The final whistle blew and the sound echoed off the nearly empty complex. Marco ran his hand through his sweaty--still freshly dyed--hair. He started walking across the pitch in my direction. He reached the fence between the pitch and the stands and I stayed seated. He smiled, “Come here.”
I shook my head, “It’s too cold.” I pulled my hood around my face. Marco hopped the fence in one swift movement. “What are you doing?” I laughed.
He took me hand and pulled me up. “Just follow me.” Before taking the next step he pulled me into a deep kiss.
I crinkled my nose, “You smell.” He laughed and slung his arm my shoulder to walk towards the training complex.