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" Està bien el bicho "
Paulo replied briefly to the flood of messages on the team's group chat, asking about Cristiano's injury. He technically wasn't lying, the Portuguese star was indeed doing fine, the pain in his twisted ankle had started to lessen over the past few hours.. But when it first happened it was enough to send him off the field mid-game, and that was where the real pain resided.
" Where's he now then " Mandžukić wrote. " I'm starting to worry "
" Probably at the gym lol " Emre Can jumped in, and Paulo paused the video game he was playing -again- to reply:
" Nah he's sleeping. " It wasn't until he hit send that he realized the suspicious certainty of his text, and so he added : "... probably"
He ran a hand over his face, hoping his little fumble wouldn't get anyone's attention. His closeness to the Portuguese was nowhere near being a secret, but no one knew just how truly close the two were. And no one needed to.
Just like no one needed to know he came over to Cris' place as soon as the game was over, to "check on him" amongst other things that involved a lot of kissing and a lot of "caregiving" which was a task the boy wasn't very accustomed to, but it all came naturally: giving Cris a massage, getting him ice packs, insisting he takes his medicine and have the meal he had prepared for him, then watching him drift off to sleep in his lap as he caressed his scalp.. Then after making sure Cris was asleep Paulo had managed to sneak out of the room, treating himself with a curious little tour in the older's mansion before making his way to the living room where he went playing some video-games. And it was there where he was sat staring at his phone with his fingers crossed, hoping everyone would look past the stupid "nah he's still sleeping " text.
" You seemed sure about that, Paulo " Federico texted after a few seconds " Stalker much??"
" Yeah. I'm currently hiding in his walls. Will keep you guys updated. "
He shook his head as he sent the texts, hoping Cris won't cringe too much while reading them when he wakes up.
. About half an hour later Paulo walked quietly back into the bedroom, it was bathed in an etherly sunset light filtering through the blinds. He settled at the edge of the bed next to where Cris was sleeping to reply to a text message from Cuadrado, who was asking him if he wants to meet up with a few other teammates to have some drinks celebrating that day's win. Win, sure, if you could call it that when the best player/the man you came to love walked out of the game with an injury and a low spirit.
"I don't think I'll make it- "
He felt Cris' hand moving on his back while typing.
- " Keeping your patient waiting in bed and still texting others? " Cris teased with a raspy voice.
