HALF TIME . bluelock chatfic

#37

The crowds fawned as you all walked back into the locker rooms through the tunnel, under the seats. Upon walking off the pitch, your manager congratulated you on your goal, one of the first of your debut season. And it was an incredible trick shot at that.

You sat amongst your team in the locker rooms, using the 15 minutes of half-time to their utmost potential to recharge. You continued drinking water, snacking on a protein bar, letting your body cool down; you needed a breather after all of that running.

You had a towel hanging around your neck as you sat, leaning forward, attentively listening to your coach and hearing her motivate you all. Constantly buzzing by your side, you noticed your phone screen lighting up with messages. Your face lit up with a smile and you reached your hand out to pick it up.

As you did so, you coach called your name, re-gaining your attention and your eyes flicked toward her again. "Y/n. Amazing goal back there, but remember," She trailed off. "If you're not one hundred percent sure you'll score, don't take the risk. Hesitating to pass could cost us the game."

"Got it." You nodded your head in understanding, and stood up to change into a fresh kit.

Pulling your jersey over your head, you sighed, feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioning on your skin. Eventually you'd changed out of your grass-stained, sweaty kit into a fresh pair and sat down to tie your laces again.

You'd ignored it for the past few minutes, but you couldn't anymore. The faint pain in your hamstring caused you to wince a little, not letting itself go unnoticed anymore. But you wiped the expression off your face to make sure no one would see.

Your coach spoke of risks, yet here you were gambling your entire career. All for one game. And it's second half was already beginning.

You now stood in the same position, but on the opposite side of the pitch, wandering in place as the kick off began. Your team had started confident and at ease, already having one goal to their name, while your opponents seemed more desperate and on edge.

But that wasn't the case. Well, it's what they should have been feeling considering it was still 1-0 after the first half. They seemed just as confident as you. If not completely unfazed, then more calm than they should've been.

The hell? You muttered under you breath. It was clear to you that they had some new strategy up their sleeves, and you didn't like it. And you'd yet to figure it out. The ball was in their court at the moment, and immediately as the ball was in play, you were being marked.

Their two main defenders were on you, giving you no room to escape their cage of defence. Fuck. Again? You tried to manoeuvre around them but they held up strong. Well enough for their striker and midfielder to exchange passes and approach the goal, but it was quickly taken away from them by your defenders.

A few minutes passed of you trying to get them to haul off, but they wouldn't budge. Their target was you.

Is this their strategy? Pathetic. They can't keep this up the entire forty-five.

One of your teammates, an expert at dribbling, now had the ball, and she ran along the side of the pitch, successfully avoiding most of their defence. Your eyes locked and in that moment of eye contact you'd shared, you knew she'd created the perfect opportunity for you.

The two defenders had no choice but to avert their attention to her, and in that moment of their switch in interest from yourself to her, you slipped out of their field of view.

You ran parallel to her on your side of the pitch and stuck your leg out to receive her pass. Effortlessly, you took a touch of the ball and it was in your possession. However, you were forced to pass it back to her once you were met with another opponent attempting to steal the ball from behind you.