clandestine | Olivier Giroud/Hugo Lloris

forget

Olivier could not stop the replay inside his head; the  endless time that the same clip would play in his mind and remind him what an idiot he was, trying to ruin a woman and a man's life.

He wasn't a home wrecker, but he wish he was brave enough to be for Marjorie. Olivier went to train per usual, and with him receiving a SMS last night from Didier Deschamps, he knew he was going to be one of the strikers for the upcoming friendlies beginning next week. He had always love representing France; the fans are fantastic, the atmospheres are unbelievable, and the energies are overwhelming.

Olivier had nothing to worry about, except he was desperate to receive even a written letter from Marjorie. Just anything; anything if any.

Click.

"I bought pizza, I hope you're okay with that choice. Calling me from your speed dial to get here in five minutes with a death threat is great, Olive Tree." The man tossed the pizza box onto the glass coffee table.

"I know, Debuch, but you're the only one I can trust around this area for goodness sake. That's why you have my house keys." Olivier rebuked, hearing the Frenchman take off his shoes, placing them neatly by the shelf, as he always does when he visits.

"Screw you, Olivier. You're just lazy to even walk out this door since there's no training," Mathieu Debuchy sighed as he sat down onto the L-shaped leathered couch. "So what's the fuss? Is it about money? Aw, don't tell me you spent it all on your-"

"No!" Olivier quickly shushed him. "I didn't spend it all on that. I'm fussing about something else. Well, it's a person."

"Well, it's lady issue then." Olivier nodded. "Is it Marjorie?"

"What the f- Did you also get trained how to read minds?"

"No, I just saw you wanting to hit that at the charity ball last time."

"I thought you didn't even go," Olivier took a bite into his pizza slice. "I didn't even see you!"

"I was late, and I kind of saw you two on the balcony. She's stunning; I see why you're head over heels for her. But she's taken, so what can you do?"

"Nothing." Olivier simply replied as Mathieu shrugged and nodded. "But I do know that Hugo has been out and about doing some funky business behind her back."

"Evidence?" Mathieu pressed, blowing on his pizza slice in hopes to cool it. Olivier shook his head, as to say he's got none. "Then it's bullshit."

Olivier scratched his head, desperate and at a loss of hope. "I don't know what else to do."

"Take this time during the international duty to sniff it out. Why are you so interested anyway? You've met her like," Mathieu rose his hand to count and quickly stopped. "Twice."

"Good question," Olivier retorted. "But I don't even know."

"Is it just lust and not love?" Olivier shrugged as his phone rang.

Hugo Lloris
Calling
Accept                Reject

Olivier placed his index finger on his lips to hush Mathieu, who sat back to obey and listen as Olivier clicked the green answer button.

"Hello?"

"Hey Olivier," Hugo spoke in a casual tone, his background noise was minimal; he was probably home. "I wanted to call and make sure that you're healthy and fit for the friendlies next week. I just called Antoine and he's feeling a bit blue, so I hope you're okay. I'll have to speak with Deschamps about who's playing in the one next match against the Swiss."

"Roger that, Hugo." Olivier replied.

"Alright, great. Also, I just want to keep you a day after in Switzerland to take my wife around. I have a meeting with the coach in the afternoon till evening and I don't want to bore her all alone. It's on the 26th."

"Why don't you ask Antoine?" Olivier pressed. Somehow, he hope that Hugo doesn't know that he had almost kissed Marjorie that night.

"Antoine didn't want to stay an extra night. You know how soon to be dads are; always anxious about something."

"Alright." Olivier simply replied.

"Great, I'll let Marjorie know tomorrow night. She's out right now. So with that, I'll set our departing date from the 26th to the 27th. You'll have an extra day to rest when you get home to London, and so will I. Wonderful. Thank you, Olivier. You've helped me a ton."

"No problem," Olivier answered briefly. "Thank you for checking up on me. I'll see you next Tuesday. Yes, yes, that's alright. Bye." Olivier placed his phone on the coffee table and continued munching on his pizza.

"Not gonna tell me what happened with Hugo?"

"He basically just asked me to take care of his wife for a few hours because he was going to a meeting."

"I've never heard of such a thing." Mathieu responded, taking a sip of water to quench his thirst.

"What? Babysitting his wife, or going to a meeting?"

"The latter. Coaches are the ones that are responsible for that, not the captain. Those are post-friendly meetings but those are for coaches only. Captains aren't even suppose to go. I smell fishes all around this situation." Olivier shrugged, mushing his fingers together to rub off the crust crumbs, placing the paper plate on the coffee table. "You should hit that while you're at it, Olive Tree."

"Stop calling me that! It makes me look like a kid; I'm not even seven foot tall."

"You're still pretty tall, Olive Tree. And remember, hit that for me."

"I am not hitting on Marjorie, for goodness's sake."

The two ended up bickering for an entire hour as they fell asleep on the couch.

For the next week, Olivier met up with the rest of the French National Team in Paris. There, he met likes with Antoine Griezmann, Hugo Lloris, and of course his teammates on the Arsenal team.

Olivier shared a hotel room with Laurent, making conversations a lot easier than expected. Laurent was currently shuffling his hair back to the position that they're used to stand. "Heard something about you and Hugo's wife two days ago," Olivier's ears perked up. "You're interested?" They spoke in French, making it easier on both of them. "You know you shouldn't be, since she's wedded and happy."

"You don't know that, Lolo," Olivier laid back onto the white sheets with his arms behind his head. "What if she's unhappy and one of us could save her?"

"You're making zero sense." Olivier covered himself with the sheets, shuffling around underneath, trying to find a comfortable position. His left hand extended out from the sheets and slammed the power button on the red wall, turning the bed lights off.

"I have zero sense, Laurent." Olivier blended Laurent out in the background.

He was going to try his hardest to forget Marjorie Evelyn Jones Lloris.

But it's going to be harder than ever before when the stunning lass is going to be around for the entire week to support her husband and the team.

.

I'm sorry for not updating! I hope this update will be okay for now. I'm not definite on how these two should interact and whatnot so I do need some time!