mélancolie | giroud

-deux-

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My head feels like it's going to explode any second as I walk onto the field of the Parc-des-Princes Stadium, counting my steps to distract myself.

douze.

treize.

quatorze.

quinze.

seize.

dix-se--

"Giroud!"

I shriek because of the sudden, loud yell and bring my hand up to my forehead to massage it with my middle finger and thumb, the stabbing pain running through my whole head like electricity.

"Griezmann, stop the goddamn shouting!" I hiss at my teammate who approaches me with a worried face expression.

"Are you not feeling well, mon ami ?" Antoine asks dumbily as if it weren't obvious and pulls me into a brief bro hug.

"I am fine Griezi" I reply and close my eyes for a short moment, trying to shut all the loud noises around us out.

"Doesn't seem like it if you ask me Olive, and this time I am not willing to let you go without a proper excuse"

Antoine steps into my way as I try to walk past him annoyed; not wanting to carry on with this conversation. I simply place my hand on his shoulder and push him aside lightly before passing him.

"Olive, please, I am trying to help you!"

For a few seconds I actually think about telling Antoine everything; from how my fiancé cheated on me to my close relationship with Jack Daniels but then the possibility that Griezi could tell our coach about it makes me change my mind and I continue to walk, not even looking back once and ignoring Antoine's tries to get me to open up.

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"Olive, I am bored"

Her soft voice sounds tired and a little bit annoyed as if watching football would be the worst thing in the world.

"I am keeping an eye on the enemy, jolie, we are playing against Everton next week," I explain to her as she sighs heavily and extends her legs out on my lap, "but the match is over in ten minutes"

She doesn't respond but examines her perfect painted-white nails as she yawns briefly.

Everton, who is in the progress of playing against Chelsea, does a pretty good job which makes me anxious for the next big match that's up on Saturday.

"Olivier," her sweet voice reaches my ear as her breath tickles against my earlobe, "can we please just go upstairs or something?"

I don't reply and wait for her reaction as I watch Eden Hazard passing the ball to Oscar as she suddenly starts to kiss the sensitive skin of my neck.

"Am I having your attention now?" she asks as she caresses my cheek with her thumb softly.

"Definitely" I mumble before connecting her plump lips with mine, lifting her up from the couch to carry her upstairs.

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I groan in frustration as I empty the Jack Daniels bottle with one last gulp and look around, my surroundings appearing in a blurr. Trying to get myself up pathetically, I fall forward and almost hit my head against the glass table infront of the television.

Sofie is the cause of my pain. Sofie is the reason why I wasn't able to score one single goal in a long period of time, the coach is actually thinking of selling me to another club.