Fight For This Love (Sergio Ramos)

Chapter 1

The airport was buzzing with noise, it was packed full of tourists. Small children shouted and ran wild, hyper with the thought of the holiday to come. Every where I looked I saw couples, families, friends. I was probably the only person there alone.

That may be because- unlike the others- I was in Madrid for business, not pleasure. I would start my new job teaching English to Spanish kids in three days. And honestly, I was shitting myself. A new country, a new house and a new job, all on my own. Not that I was a million miles away from home, a three hour flight and I could be sat in my Mum and Dad's London home, but nonetheless, this was a massive deal to me, in my 25 years, this was the most daring thing I had ever done.

My high heels clunked obnoxiously along the grubby floor as I struggled to pull my humongous suitcase behind me. Heels were not made for airports and flights, but at my height they were a must, at 5 foot 5 I was pretty short. I was unused to the heat and it was beginning to get to me, I swatted my long wavy chestnut coloured hair away from my face and fanned my flushed cheeks.

I made a beeline for the nearest Starbucks, the weight of the suitcase plus the heels and the heat were not a great combination and I needed to sit down and cool off for a few minutes. I ordered a coffee and slumped in one of their plush deep red sofas as a sigh tumbled from my lips. Ok, maybe the heels weren't my best idea, even if the alternative meant feeling vertically challenged for a couple of hours.

I looked up from my coffee and noticed a man smiling at me, he was old and his hair had started to grey, but you could tell he had been a looker back in his day. He was sat opposite a second man who had his back to me, this one younger with no grey hair and broad shoulders, maybe his son or nephew. The first man was still smiling, and he looked nice enough so I smiled back politely.

The older man stood and for a second my heart raced, thinking he might approach me but he just pulled the younger man into a hug. They said goodbye as the younger man (he was stood too now, he looked really tall) kissed his cheek and waved goodbye.

The younger man was alone now, he shoved his wallet and keys into the back pocket of his tight jeans and just as I thought he might leave he turned on the spot until he was directly facing me.

Oh god. What is he doing? I thought as he walked towards me confidently. He was beautiful. Over 6 foot and obviously toned. He had a little stubble, smartly groomed light brown hair and expensive sunglasses hid his eyes.

He took the seat opposite me as if he knew me and offered me a wide smile, he obviously enjoyed the look of utter bewilderment on my face.

"That was my father" Was his opening line, obviously referring to the man who had just left.

"...ok?" I replied. Was this man from Mars?

"He is flying home, he came to Madrid just for the week" he said matter-of-factly.

"Right. And how does this involve me exactly?" I asked, trying to remain polite.

"Well. He saw you walking in, he said you looked a little confused and lonely." He took his sunglasses off and grinned at me. Wow, he was a strange one.

"I'm not lone-" I began but he cut me off.

"And he made me promise that i'd help such a beautiful girl"

My cheeks flushed at the cheesy but nice compliment. "That's nice but-"

"No buts. I can help however you need me to, tour guide, taxi driver, whatever" he wasn't short of confidence, and this infectious smile he had hadn't left his face yet.

"No really, I think I can manage." The offer was nice, honestly, but I knew what men like him really wanted.

"Do you have a ride to your hotel?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"Why do you assume I'm staying in a hotel?" I asked curiously.

"Your accent. You're not from here. Just visiting?"

"I actually just moved here for work" I showed him my new address that I had scribbled on a piece of scrap paper.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. He was interested for some reason. "That's not too far from me, come on i'll give you a ride"

I would've refused, but I actually didn't have a ride home.

"I'm Sergio by the way" he extended his hand to me.

I knew well and good who he was, I was English, I watched a lot of football. "I know exactly who you are Ramos. I'm Olivia Luiz"

He laughed at my response, slinging his arm around my shoulder and pulling along my suitcase as we walked away from the cafe. "I like you already Olivia Luiz"