play with me! | m.bachira

001

the rain pattered against your umbrella as you walked on the lonely avenue with your skateboard in hand and backpack slung over your shoulder. it was early in the morning of a late november day, far too early to head to school but your unfinished homework was going to bite you in the ass with detention. your eyebags didn't help as you slumped your shoulders while turning right, entering the main street. you were hoping for some quiet to be able to finish your trigonometry homework and for the canteen to be open with juices and pastries, maybe you shouldn't have skipped breakfast but who cares.

the roads were crowded with people from bars stumbling back home, dragging the sweet stench of alcohol with them like chains. office workers yawning while speed-walking to their workplaces and a few holding coffee. you trudged through the roads and thankfully made it to the school gates. 'i should sleep during lunch, wait isn't it tuesday? they have cake as the special.' you thought, walking through the doors and putting your shoes in your locker. the halls were hollow and monotone, looking like an endless maze for your tired eyes, the clack of your footsteps were white noise along with the rain until you reached your classroom.

you sat in the middle row, next to the window of the second floor, it was the second best seat in the class as a dual-haired boy, brighter than the sun took the seat at the back on the first day of school and has never budged since. outside, a tree could be seen growing on the wall of the building, with the grass fields not far from eyesight. it was the perfect scenery to sketch, especially now as it looked straight out of a gothic literature novel. you rubbed your eyes as you finished the last question and yawned, opening the window to let some fresh air in.

BAM!

a bright crimson invaded your cheeks - out of pain, embarrassment and anger - on the floor was a muddy, worn-out football with small drops of blood on it. your blood, running down and mud covering you. thank god you wore your jacket, your form teacher would have been livid, but when isn't he? but right now you were, your favourite jacket was muddy and bloody, on a really cold day, your nose is bleeding and you got hit in the face with a football. at 7:43 in the morning.

scowling you look down to see a boy, gaping and grimacing at you, drenched in old sportswear with dual-coloured hair. oh great, he takes the best seat and hits you in the face with a football.

"oh fuck, i'm sorry, and your bleeding, wait i'm coming up." he spoke rapidly, not even letting you respond and so you waited, and waited. nearly ten minutes pass and he finally arrived in a messy uniform with even messier hair. "i didn't know someone else was here, i didn't mean to hit you, what's your name by the way?" he placed his bag on his desk and sat on the desk in front of you, looking expectant.

"l/n, y/n, just y/n is fine, and what were you doing?" you say wiping your nose with a tissue.

"i was practising rebounds and sudden passes, i kicked the ball too high that's all," the boy rubs his hair and combs through it with his fingers, trying to fix his hair, "i'm bachira meguru by the way."

"be careful next time at least," you sat down as students began to enter and took your jacket off, bachira still sat, slightly pouting before returning to his seat. soon your form teacher arrived after the bell rang and started to announce the register.

school flew by with more boring classes and homework, luckily you didn't get detention so you could skate after school. the scenery still maintained it's gloomy atmosphere, but the rain stopped, and students shivered as the wind blew and hugged their jackets closer to them, you however had to shiver as your jacket was still muddy and bloody. you walked fast through the crowds, sifting through gaps and avoiding puddles, you were tired and wanted to just shower, eat and skate.

"hey y/n, wait up!" you spun around to face bachira slightly panting and jogging. 'what is he doing here?' you stood there like a lost child, unsure of what was happening. "i need to make it up to you, i'm sorry again but that's not enough so come over to my place."

"what am i gonna do over there?"

"easy, we'll play football."

you stood clueless at what the boy was trying to do, who hits someone in the face and then invites them over to play football?

"oh come on, play with me! plus my house is near and i can wash your jacket as a sorry," his eyes gleamed with so much sincerity it was nauseating. you didn't want to go to some stranger's house who gave you a bloody nose but it would mean warmth.

"lead the way your highness,"

author's notes:

-i have writers block and tests so pls excuse the short chapter but ITS HEREEE
-ive fallen behind like 10 eps of blue lock cus my phone was broken so pray for my eyebags tmmr