football | calum hood a.u.

0.1

"as a famous football player, i need protein. but, i just can't – in any humanly manner – find a reason why eating dead animals is fine. especially when we're killing them for food we can easily find an alternative for. i mean, sure, meat has some type of protein that isn't in any other source of food, but why do we need that specific type of protein? it's just not right to kill animals, in my opinion." i state.

"mr. hood, how does mrs. bertha hood feel about this announcement?" a reporter asks.

"well, actually, i haven't told her. but i'm hoping she will support me fully."

"so, is bertha vegetarian? or is this diet just solely about your beliefs, and nobody else's impact?"

i shake my head, "she is not vegetarian. i just believe that since people keep animals for pets and most think of the pets as immediate family, it's – no, scratch that. people are animals. just a different species, so it's cannibalism."

people nod their head, and one reporter at the back of the room speaks up, "i heard you had a child on the way, is this a true statement?"

"no, unfortunately. although we are looking into adoption, we will most likely just get a dog instead." bertha is against pregnancy. i guess against isn't really the right word. she's more anxious, i guess, of carrying around a baby in her stomach. she feels like she'd be overly stressed and kill the baby, or she'd accidentally lay on her stomach. i always tell her that that kind of luck doesn't really happen to very many pregnant women. she still doesn't want to. "only adoption, if that. and we might be getting a dog that can run on the field at halftime during my games..."

"why isn't bertha here?" the same reporter in the back asks. why are they so interested in my wife?

"she told me she was looking at houses, but i think that was an excuse because she just wanted to sleep. she sleeps, like, 12 hours a night." i say. she always makes it to my games, even the away ones.

"well, best of luck telling bertha, mr. hood." another voice says.

"thank you!" i stand up from my chair and exit the press conference.

—home. finally. "baby, i'm home!" i yell into the house. no response. "princess?" i call.

i shrug it off and run up the stairs. this house is so empty for the two of us, and yet we're looking for bigger houses. i open my bedroom door, and find my beautiful angel fast asleep in our bed. my wife, my wife, my wife.

i'm such a lucky man.

[ A/N- hi so i'm new to writing please don't hurt me this is my second book. i've written ideas in a journal before, but i've never really tried anything, so now i'm trying something. thanks for reading! ]