By the time the final whistle blew, the Italy faithful were already on their feet; applauding the players as they made their way off the pitch. I, despite being Portuguese, was standing among the sea of fans clad in Italy's signature blue, happily clapping away.
When I saw Mattia walking over, I carefully squeezed my way to the bottom of the stands. After fighting off most of the crowd, I finally made it. "Mattia!" I called, waving my hands at him excitedly. When he saw me, his eyes lit up almost instantly.
"Elise!" He swiftly enveloped me into an awkward hug, the barricade between our torsos preventing full contact. I beamed widely at him when we separated, and I reached out to hold his hand, "good job today."
Mattia grinned, clutching my hand tightly in his. "Did you see that tackle I made?" He asked, sheer satisfaction written all over his face. I laughed, nodding, "It was impressive."
"I was honestly very close to hitting his foot," he clarified, running a hand through his hair, "glad I didn't." I gripped his cheeks playfully, squashing them together, "you filthy boy."
He made a face that I assumed to be him trying to smile while I pressed onto his cheeks. "Anyway," I began, finally giving those cheeks some air, "when did you say your next game was?" He didn't even need to think. "Wednesday. Why, do you have a schedule to clear?" He quipped.
I shrugged, "who knows, I might have a date in Lyon or Paris." He furrowed his eyebrows at me, before reaching out to grab my cheeks, "you better cancel that date, because you have a date with me in Lille."
We shared a laugh before he pressed his lips onto mine, still squishing my cheeks together. "See you later, okay?" He smiled, letting go of my cheeks. The smile on my face never faded as I watched him disappear into the tunnel.
I was so proud of him. To be there in the Euros, in France, doing what he -
My train of thoughts was interrupted by the buzzing of my phone. I fished it out of my pocket, and was pleasantly surprised to see Cristiano's name across my screen. "Hey," I greeted him as I ambled out of the stadium alongside the crowd.
"Elise, how's my favorite girl doing?" My best friend asked, and I could tell he was beaming widely on the other end. "Amazing," I replied cheerfully, "Italy just won 1-0 to Sweden."
He chuckled quietly, "nice. I wanted to check if you're coming tomorrow."
I nodded, "of course I am! I wouldn't miss my best friend's game for the world."
"Great! And you're coming to our next game too right? On Wednesday?"
I found myself frowning at his words. Wednesday. Why did it sound extremely familiar? It didn't hit me at that moment why, so I simply shrugged it off. "Of course, babe."
✿
Lying on the hotel bed, I stared intensely at the ceiling. I thought maybe if I stared hard enough the ceiling could give me the answers to all of my questions. Like, what my next course of action should be, for instance.
I grumbled loudly as I rolled over on my stomach. Resting my chin on the pillow, I stared at my phone this time, sitting motionless on the table. But it wouldn't be motionless for very long.
It was Wednesday morning, and I was stuck in my hotel room having realized I promised both my boyfriend and my best friend that I would be at their respective matches.
Quickly, I began weighing my options. Maybe I could go to Mattia's match and lie about feeling unwell to Cristiano. I frowned at that, unable to accept the thought of lying to my best friend. Then I thought about the vice versa option, but I couldn't bring myself to lie to Mattia either.
"What have you gotten yourself into, Elise?" I chided myself as my phone began to buzz. I inhaled deeply before forcing myself to get up and answer the call.
"Elise! Are you in Lyon already?" Cristiano's worried voice filled my ears. I wanted to bang my head on the wall at that point. I most definitely wasn't in Lyon. I was in Lille, with Mattia. Without thinking twice, I blurted out the only lie I could think of.
"I'm a little sick today, Cris."
When I put the phone down, I felt the sudden urge to scream loudly. How could I ditch my best friend like that? I felt horrible. Then, as if on cue, my phone began buzzing again. It was Mattia.
"Elise, are you pumped for the match?" Mattia asked, his voice bubbly. I bit my lip, deciding that I had to do what was right. "I'm a little sick today, Mattia," I lied. And ironically, I felt slightly better. I mean, how could I choose between my best friend and my boyfriend?
In the end, I chose none of them.
✕
A Euro 2016 special, as requested by anonymous on my Tumblr ☺ I hope you liked it! I mean if it was me I probably couldn't choose either ahahaha. Anyway thank you for reading loves! ♡
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football | one shots
Fanfiction[closed] ❝the world is but a canvas to the imagination.❞ - Henry David Thoreau
