Love Me Until My Heart Stops

“You’re checking your phone again” Gerard mused as he peeked at Esmé, offering her a small smile. It wasn’t the first time, since they had landed in Florence ahead of the game with Fiorentina, Esmé had checked her phone routinely for a new message from Cesc, and Gerard couldn’t help but tease her for it. She was like a love struck teenager when it came to Cesc and Gerard always made sure to tease her for it, something which always made her laugh. It was still an odd thought, Esmé had been his friend for years and he still couldn’t quite fathom that she was with Cesc, but he sort of like that she was. Cesc had made her a lot happier and whist it was odd for Gerard, he liked seeing her happy.

“I am not” Esmé replied, stowing her phone in her pocket.

“Yes, you are” Gerard teased “It’s been ten minutes” he added.

“I was just seeing if he’d texted back” Esmé defended “I know he’s nervous about playing Arsenal again after the way they booed him at the Emirates last season and I was hoping he’d text before kick off” she explained, peeking down at her phone once more.

Gerard nodded. “I am sure he will be fine” he mused, stretching his long legs out beneath the seats which sat ahead of them. It was early, but Enrique wanted to get to the stadium early. He wanted to go through a proper warm up before the game. “Chelsea really should be beating Arsenal, even without Costa, Eden Hazard’s a tricky little thing and should bamboozle Bellerin and Mertesacker with ease” he added.

Esmé smiled. “Look at you, reeling off your premier league knowledge” she grinned.

“I happen to know a little about football, Esmé” Gerard quipped, faking offense.

“I didn’t think you knew a little about anything” Esmé grinned, nudging his side.

Gerard shook his head. “One day, I am going to find a new best friend you know, and then you’ll regret being so mean to me” he teased, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Esmé snorted. “You couldn’t find another best friend even if you tried. You love me far too much for that” she quipped.

Gerard shrugged. “Keep believing that” he mused.

Esmé shook her head. “Idiota” she commented, gently hitting the back of his head. Gerard merely smiled at her and pressed a kiss to her cheek, something which caused her to swat for him.

“As wonderful as this is” Jordi Alba quipped from his seat beside Esmé “Do you think you two could shut up for a bit? Some of us are thinking about the game we have to play in a few hours” he muttered.

Esmé blushed a little, but nodded her head, subtly slipping her phone out of her pocket, smiling a little as she spotted the text from Cesc. Gerard watched the smile fill her face and smiled a little to himself. He had had reservations, Cesc wasn’t exactly great with relationships and Esmé could be pretty naïve when she wanted to be, but one look at the smile on her face whenever he contacted her made Gerard pretty sure that they were going to be OK. Esmé adored Cesc and whilst he it wasn’t so obvious with the midfielder, Gerard was pretty confident that he felt precisely the same way.

~#~
Chewing on the side of her lip, Esmé peeked at the screen of her laptop, her stomach shifting a little nervously. It was late, later than she wanted it to be, but she hadn’t had a chance to call earlier. Between Chelsea’s narrow defeat to Arsenal and Barcelona’s slip up against Fiorentina, she had been rather busy and had only just found the time to make the call she made every day. Pushing her dark hair out of her eyes, she smiled as she noted the call had been accepted, but it quickly fell away, her dark eyes surveying the miserable expression Cesc wore.

“Corazon” she whispered softly.

Cesc shook his head. “Don’t even say it, Esmé” he murmured.

“It wasn’t that bad” Esmé replied defiantly “It was only 1-0 and that’s not terrible. Arsenal are a good side and if anyone knows that, then it is you” she added.

Cesc scoffed. “We’re the champions, Esmé” he muttered “The best team in the country and they fluked another FA cup. It’s not like they beat the best to win the stupid thing” he grumbled.

Esmé shook her head. “You don’t mean that” she mused “And just because this one game went against you, doesn’t mean you get to act like an ass. Barca lost again tonight too and you don’t see me needlessly insulting the opposition” she muttered.

“You weren’t relentlessly booed by people who used to worship you” Cesc countered sharply.

“Cesc, you know how football can be. Just look at Iker” she pointed out, referring to the recently departed Real Madrid Captain who had seemingly been pushed aside.

Cesc rolled his eyes. “I am really not in the mood for this, Esmé” he muttered.

“It is one game” Esmé reminded him.

“We’ve not won a pre-season game in 90 minutes, we only beat you lot on penalties” he grunted.

Esmé rolled her eyes. “Cesc, it’s pre-season” she reminded him softly.

Cesc rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t bode well” he mumbled.

Esmé shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, only to stop as a voice filled the air around her boyfriend, causing her to raise an eyebrow. “Who’s that?” she posed.

“No one” Cesc responded a little too quickly.

“It’s obviously someone” Esmé replied.

“It really isn’t, Esmé” he protested, his voice twitching a little.

Esmé went to follow up, but was stopped as she watched the door in background of the screen open, allowing inside a pretty brunette who proceeded towards Cesc, placing an affectionate kiss on his cheek. “Are you nearly done in here?” her sultry voice murmured loud enough for it to be picked up by the microphone on Cesc’s computer.

Esmé blinked, trying to stave off the tears for a second, before a frown filled her face. “He’s done alright” she muttered, causing the girl to turn towards the screen, showing off the shirt of Cesc’s she sported. It was one Esmé recognized, she had worn it frequently herself after she had given it to him for his birthday the previous year.

“Esmé…” Cesc’s voice protested, but Esmé had closed the computer before he had a chance to finish. The last thing she wanted was to listen to his pitiful excuses. Shaking her head, she quickly gathered herself before she slipped out of her hotel room, making her way towards one which was just down the hall where she quickly tapped the door.

“Esmé?” Marc Bartra yawned, stepping into the hall.

“Gerard” she managed to stumble out.

Marc nodded his head and stepped out of the way, allowing her to step into his room. “I will go and stay with Sergi for the night” he smiled kindly, earning a small appreciative nod before Esmé disappeared into his room, quickly making her way towards Gerard who rested on his bed, watching a film on his tablet. Catching sight of movement, the defender lifted his head and tilted it, watching as Esmé fell into the bed beside him, tears falling down her face.

“Esmé?” he posed, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

“No talking” she muttered, sniffing.

Gerard nodded his head and placed his arms around, merely hugging her as she had asked.