𝑶𝑩𝑺𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑫 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝒀𝑶𝑼, richarlison

v, come over, please

RICHALISON'S home was empty when he finally made it in from the club. son had dragged the team out to celebrate his partnership with burberry. they only intended to go to a bar to have a couple drinks, until bryan brought up the idea of going to the new club that opened in shoreditch. a few members pulled out, hating the atmosphere of those time-wasting parties. richarlison, on the other hand, loved it.

the feeling of not being able to breath due to the amout of squashed bodies surrounding him, the aches in his muscles that he received next morning from moving around too much. he loved all of it.

he also loved the feeling of coming home to a full house, instead of going out every night. his wife or girlfriend sitting in front of the telly, their child laying in her arms. the way their faces would light up when he walked through the living room door. he was jealous that some of his friends could experience that so early on, when all he came home too was a dark, empty kitchen (and acerola and layla, of couse).

it wasn't always like this. up until a couple weeks ago, everything was fine. he would come home to his girl making dinner for them both. or her with a towel wrapped around her head, drying her long blonde hair.

he ignored all the thoughts of his ex, and ventured into the kitchen. the fridge was stocked with ready made meals from his nutritionist, the sight looked depressing. ignoring this, he grabbed the bottle of apple juice that sat on the middle shelf. he was drunk and jaded, and apple juice was the only thing that could make him a little more sober.

the brazilian sighed and pulled out his phone. his homescreen of himself and goddaughter was flooded with instagram notifications. he didn't need to check them to know that ninety percent consisted of thirsty models trying to get in his pants.

he would reply, but there was no point. there was only really one person that he'd like to have in his dm's.

he recalled their last converstation. it was late last night, and they had been talking about nothing in particular, just exchanging small talk. it somehow got deeper than it should've and all of a sudden, richarlison was ranting about how much he went through as a child, his upbringing, and how important football is to him.

his fingers moved on their own suddenly, opening his messages and going to an all too familiar text thread. the regret was already starting to settle in, but just like everything else, he ignored it. his numb fingers hurriedly typed out a message; something along the lines of  'come over, please' - but he couldn't really tell, he could barely see straight.

her message came straight after, telling him that she couldn't understand, and asking if he was drunk. he denied it and asked again. he took his time typing this time around, trying to keep up the facade of seeming somewhat sober.

richarlison continued to beg, and she continued to refuse. until the last message came in, 'send me your location.' and he grinned, knowing that he was about to get what he wanted once again from her.

it was a never ending cycle between the two. they would break up, get back together, drunkenly call each other to make up and so on. this time is no different.

the footballer stumbled up the stairs, deciding to change while waiting for her. he threw off his designer shirt and jeans, switching them out for some grey joggers and leaving his top half bare. that was a trick he learned at the start of their relationship; grey joggers never fail.

time passed and it wasn't long until the doorbell was ringing. he stumbled to the foyer, still slightly drunk, and pulled open the door.

"teyjah?"

richarlison couldn't mask the confusion that spread across his face. he didn't know how teyjah had found his home, and why she decided to show up unannounced. "what are you doing here?"

"you literally begged me to come over, i thought you was upset and got drunk so i decided to come help..." she explained. "was you not expecting me?" her heart dropped a little; this was embarrassing.

he quickly shook his head and ushered her inside. goosebumps suddenly erupted on his bare torso, despite it being twenty-three degrees inside the large home.

any plans of richarlison getting a quick fuck immediately flew out of his mind. he refused to use teyjah in that way. he didn't want her to become another one of his girls that he only talks to past ten pm.

"look, tej; i didn't mean to text you - i thought i was messaging my friend," he scratched the back of his head, wanting the ground to swallow him whole. the entire situation he found himself in was awkward.

her smile faltered a little as she let out a tiny, "oh."

richarlison didn't know why the small action hurt him so much, it was like he hated the look of teyjah being upset. he didn't want to make teyjah upset ever again, if that's how he felt.

"you can stay though, i want you here-" he smiled thoughtfully. "only if you want to? do you?" she nodded and continued to stand awkwardly in his hallway. "up?"

teyjah smiled and watched him shuffle up the stairs. she knew he messaged her by accident the minute he texted her; 'alianna, please. i need you.' but she decided against saying anything. it seemed obvious that richarlison only wanted someone over to have sex with. and if he needed it, she could be that person.

the player made himself comfortable on his fresh bed sheets, suddenly way more tired than he was twenty minutes ago. he threw his head back and closed his eyes. he let out some deep breaths, trying to sober up once more.

"are you okay? do you want water?"  

"no."

"do you want me to lea-"

"no. stay, please." teyjah nodded lowly, confirming that she'll stay with him. she somehow convinced him to get into bed, under the covers and watching tv.

"can you stay? til tomorrow?" he mumbled into her chest. it was a bit of blur on how he went from being on his own in bed, to laying on top of teyjah. he didn't mind though - he was comfortable.

"yeah. i'll stay richi, go to sleep."

"obrigado," he mumbled, already falling asleep to the feeling of her fresh set of nails running their way along the back of his head.

⎯ notes!
in honour of france losing 🙏🏽
(ive never prayed on a country's
downfall more)✨