Girls like girls | Elisa de Almeida - fanfic ♡ (english)

two ♡

The entire Paris Saint-Germain team was at the opening dinner table, chatting among themselves. The venue was inside a luxurious hotel in Paris and had a prestigious view of the Eiffel Tower. The view was even more enjoyable at these nighttime hours when they illuminated lights that looked incredible. The decoration was very fitting for an inauguration, and there were flags from each selected country on the tables.

Within the table, there were two empty chairs. The girls suspected they were for their head coach and his companion since they had arrived earlier but were still greeting others.

Elisa attended the event in an elegant and irresistible black suit with white sneakers with black details. She knew the impact she could have on other women and certainly took advantage of it. Her teammates Karchaoui and Geyoro also appeared in black suits with their hair pulled back.

'Someone is asking me out,' Elisa huffed as she showed an Instagram conversation to her friend Karchaoui.

'Are you not going to accept?' she said while stalking the influencer in question —'she's gorgeous! What more do you want?'

'Maybe I will,' the defender responded —'but right now, the first round of the Nations League is about to begin. I don't want to get distracted.'

Karchaoui mocked Elisa's response. Overall, she liked being with her and found humor in her teammate's attitude. Elisa tended to play hard to get and had a high ego, leading to narcissistic comments. However, they were well-deserved because she was undeniably beautiful.

'You're never going to change, huh?' Karchaoui asked Elisa.

Elisa smiled, understanding what her teammate meant.

'It's not my fault that everyone wants me, Karchaoui,' she replied —'but don't worry, I'll tell them all that I'm yours.'

Karchaoui started laughing.

'Someday, you'll fall in love, Elisa,' she said.

'Take me to the doctor that day, please,' Elisa said, laughing.

The Parisians continued chatting and got up from the table to greet the other players.

At a nearby table, Hervé and Celine were sitting. It was her first time greeting her boyfriend's colleagues. She felt very small, not just in terms of age but also as a person, as if she were just an accessory to her boyfriend and not his official girlfriend. No one asked her questions, and they barely looked at her. Celine had imagined that someone would comment on their significant age difference, but it seemed that they were so accustomed to it in this society.

Due to the lack of attention from her boyfriend's colleagues and the feeling of not fitting in, Celine preferred to visit the dessert table at the event and pass the time on her phone. She began scrolling through her Instagram feed until a husky but feminine enough voice caught her attention, interrupting her Instagram likes session.

'Let me guess, do you play for the Swiss national team?'

Elisa de Almeida completely directed her attention when she saw Celine alone at the dessert table. She started looking her up and down with a lustful gaze, almost dropping her jaw to the floor. Celine wore a long and fitted black dress, allowing enjoyment of her figure and the curves highlighted by the dress. She had her hair tied back, while her bangs fell gently to the sides and covered some of her forehead, but not completely. Realizing that she was alone, the central defender didn't hesitate to activate her flirt mode and started a conversation with her.

'Je suis français*,' Celine responded, implying that she was French —'I don't belong to any team. Do you play?'

Celine felt a pang in her chest when she saw Elisa. She didn't know if it was because of her beautiful smile or simply because someone had finally shown interest in asking something about her. Almeida was surprised to hear that the beautiful woman she was talking to was French and didn't play for any team, making her someone's companion. But whose? Because the option of her being from the press was ruled out since she didn't have a press badge.

'Yes, I'm part of the national team...' she was interrupted by Karchaoui's calls, saying that someone was looking for her, and she had to go.

Elisa wished the ground would swallow Karchaoui and spit her out in China or some faraway place.

'Sorry, I'll be right back,' she said to Celine and angrily walked toward where her teammate was.

Celine cursed in her head; for some reason, she wanted to continue talking with the person who had shown interest in her for two seconds.

Karchaoui took Elisa by the arm and led her to a place where no one could hear.

'It's not her, Elisa...' she began to explain.

'Why not?' frustratedly replied Elisa.

'She's the girlfriend... of our head coach Hervé.'

Qu'est-ce que tu dis, putain?* Elisa responded instantly, not understanding and, above all, not believing what her teammate was telling her. She thought this was all a joke.

'I saw them,' Karchaoui began —'I saw them when he was greeting Australia, and then she went to the dessert table.'

The defender still couldn't believe it.

'But she looks our age,' she said —'she even looks younger. How can they be a couple?'

'They are' Karchaoui confirmed again, but it wasn't enough for Elisa to come to her senses.

It was announced that dinner would begin, so everyone headed to their seats. The defender was upset because she couldn't continue her conversation with the French woman who had taken her breath away. But she didn't need to go to Celine since the two empty chairs at the table were complemented by the head coach and his young girlfriend.

Elisa couldn't believe what she was seeing.

'Hello, girls,' the coach began —'I hadn't had the chance to introduce you to my girlfriend. She's Celine, and she'll be joining us for this dinner.'

All the players greeted Celine politely, although the confusion about the significant age difference was also noticeable. But no one said anything about it.

Elisa and Celine couldn't stop looking at each other. The defender refused to believe that she was her coach's girlfriend, and Celine was still confused about the pang she felt while talking and seeing the smile of the French player.

Both felt curiosity and interest in each other from that meeting. Clearly, they didn't meet in the best situation or under the best conditions, but that definitely wasn't going to be a factor to stop them from getting to know each other.


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*Translations:

Je suis français: I am French.Qu'est-ce que tu dis, putain?: What the fuck are you saying?

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Here is the second chapter!! hope you like it!! <3 

thank u for reading!! <3 <3