I hate the cold. I moved out of Germany and England because I hate the cold. So why the hell does the cold have to follow me?
One of the main reasons I moved to Rome is because of the warm weather... the team, too, I guess, but mainly because I like warm temperatures, like the warm-blooded animal I am, and I can get a nice tan under the Italian sun. The cold is horrible.
Today is a day I would pay not to be in Rome. First off, I don't care if it's not the normal sunny day or whatever; a little wind never killed anyone... unless a little wind is a lot of strong wind... what am i even saying? No, what I hate is the fact that I have to walk 20 minutes to Laura's place, and because it's my first year in Rome, I was like, 'it looks cold, but it will be warm.'
Was I right? No. I am walking for twenty minutes, at least, to get to Laura's nice, warm apartment in shorts and a t-shirt. What's wrong with that, you may ask? It's freaking SNOWING or hailing. i can't tell which.
I thought, 'Oh, snow won't be that cold, we're in Rome it will be warm snow.' Turns out I was wrong, and it is freezing. I think I'm going to be an ice cube before I get to Laura's. I'm not even exaggerating.
Turns out that snow is the definition of cold.
Anyway, that's how I'm here, trudging through the streets while snow was pouring down on me, in shorts and a muscle shirt (is that what theyre called), having to stop every twenty seconds because fans want photos and stuff. I've been stopped by like 30 fans already, and I just want to go steal... I mean, borrow Laura's heating and blankets.
I think I'm going to get frostbite. I can't stop sneezing either. I decided to do this a couple of days ago. It wasn't snowing, but it was still close to freezing. I think that might be why Laura said she could come get me...
I should've taken her up on that offer; her car's got heated seats and everything, and it's comfy. It's nice being comfy. If you're going somewhere, you just want to be comfy, and that car is very comfy. Comfort is key, one could say. Damn it! I'm turning into Leah and Keira.
After over half an hour of stopping for all the fans, I finally made it to her building. I didn't hesitate to open the door and practically threw myself inside, only to find out the heating's not on.
I bet Laura's stolen it all, I bet twenty on it.
I slowly began the long climb up the stairs after finding out the elevator was out of service—just my luck, isn't it? That's how my day's gone: leave the house in shorts and a muscle top, a terrible decision may I add, to then walk for half an hour in the snow and in the cold, which is against my nature (other than for England camps, of course), and then have to climb up twenty-five flights of stairs to get to one apartment.
After around 10 sets, I was ready to give up, go back down, and walk home to try and get warm there. But then again, Laura would kill me if she realized I left after walking in the cold. Also, she's going to have the heating on.
The one thing I can never fault Laura for is that she keeps her heating at 25 degrees all the time.
It's an experience I want to live in.
The thing is, at this point, I reckon I should just move in. Hear me out here. I'm here 5 out of 7 days a week, if not all week, other than when I need to get clothes. We've been dating six months, and she always remembers to keep the heating on.
At one point, I forgot how to turn the heating on and was in a cold apartment for three days until Laura came around to turn it on for me.
Back to the point, though: once I got to Laura's door, I hesitantly knocked on it. I don't really want to see her reaction, but I don't want to go back in the cold. Surely, she'd be more sympathetic since I'm shivering, right?
"Hey, (Y/n/n)—Why are you in shorts and a muscle shirt? It's freezing!" Laura says, cutting herself off to ask about my choice of clothing.
"I thought I could get ready for training earlier?" I replied, asking more of a question than actually answering one.
"...We don't have training today, so I am going to ask again. Why are you in shorts and a T-shirt?" Laura said, scarily calm, her Spanish accent getting more noticeable by the second.
"I thought that because it looked cold, it would be warm," I say, trying to cover up the need to sneeze.
"I thought I told you Wednesday to make sure to wrap up warm because it's cold. You did the same thing then." Laura paused for a second before continuing after looking out the window, "You didn't think it would be cold? It's snowing."
Before I could come up with any reply, I sneezed, which caused Laura to sigh.
"Quickly, get in." I quickly complied, wanting to be in the warmth and knowing that Laura probably isn't shouting because of the neighbours. Laura doesn't like shouting, but she panics, and it's in situations like this only—in other words, when I do something stupid and am probably going to get sick.
Laura placed her hand against me before pulling it back and walking out of the room, giving me a little 'stay there.'
A couple of minutes later, Laura came back with a hoodie and about three blankets. Handing me the hoodie, I quickly put it on before Laura dragged me to the sofa as I sneezed yet again.
Did I mention I hate the cold? That also goes for catching colds because then you're always cold till you're better.
Laura practically dragged me onto the sofa with her, wrapping all three blankets around us. Then I sneezed again.
"Try to get some sleep. I'll stay, but you might feel better after some rest," Laura said, rubbing my back as I put my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat.
"You might get sick, though," I say as I slowly doze off in the Austrian girl's comforting embrace.
"That doesn't matter right now," Laura whispered into my ear, lightly kissing my temple, "Your idiot ass is sick, so im going to help you."
