pinkie promise

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I sit down on the couch, smoothing out the white sundress I'm now wearing. I didn't quite know how to feel at all anymore, I just feel lost. What I said to Neymar was definitely not called for, it was just my pride shouting to be heard. I ended up burned and making more of a fool of myself. After all, pride comes before the fall. There was no doubt in me that I would've taken him back if he had asked. He knows it, I know it, Estefani knows it, anyone that knew us as a couple knows it.

But just as Neymar pointed out, I'm here because David wants me here. I love David to pieces, and I am ecstatic to see him. Ecstatic enough to put up with Neymar, his hostile feelings towards me and my loving feelings towards him that never went away. But--let it not be said that I'm without fault in this already disastrous altercation. I started the hostility, by telling him oh so rudely in the car to leave me the heck alone. And he had listened. Why should he be nice to me if I'm so rude to him?

There's no reason to.

"You'll never guess what your birthday present is." I look up as I hear Neymar's voice, and rise to my feet. "Yes I will!" I hear David's excited voice respond, "It's a-" he stops as he walks around the corner, his big eyes widening, "San!" He shouts, running towards me, before jumping into my arms. I chuckle a little, "Hi Davi." I say, spinning around slightly. He giggles, a wide smile on his face before pecking my cheek, "I missed you!" He cries. I kiss his cheek, "I missed you more." I say truthfully to the little boy. He suddenly moves to jump out of my arms, and I bend over and let him run to Neymar. "Dad! Can I show San my room?!" He questions excitedly. "Yeah of course." Neymar responds with a soft smile. Davi runs back over to me and takes my hand. Neymar and I share a glance, causing the subtle smiles on both our faces to fade away. I look down and away, focusing on Davi again.

That's the only problem--my mindset has been for so long when I'm with Davi, I'm with Neymar and everything's okay.

This time, it's not.

*•*•*•*

A small knock on the door catches my attention, and I look up from the game I'm paying with Davi. Neymar is standing in the doorway, wearing a Brazil jersey. He holds out two pieces of matching yellow fabric, without saying a word. I sigh, and get up, "What are these?" I ask him quietly, taking them from his hands. "They're Davi's jerseys." He says with a small smile, "It's a part of the party." Davi jumps up, and runs over to me, squealing happily. I help him into his perfectly fitting jersey, and he immediately runs over to the mirror. "I'll go change." I say quietly, "Again." Neymar smiles a little, a laugh escaping his mouth. He doesn't budge from the doorway, and when I wait for him do so, he just looks down at me, mixed emotions obvious on his face. So I squeeze past him, head down and eyes averted. I hear him sigh as I finally pass by, and I hold in another of my own. I rush to my "room", which just as he said, is directly across from his.

I close the door behind me, and squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head furiously. I can't even meet his eyes without it affecting me. I'm going to go insane.

Forcefully brushing all of this from my mind, I take off my dress and pull on the jersey. I go through one of the duffle bags on my bed, before finding a pair of dark wash distressed jean shorts that I pull on. Grabbing the gray beanie from earlier, I pull it on over my already curled hair. I go up to the mirror, taking a close look at the jersey. It was almost identical to the jerseys that the Brazil team is wearing during the World Cup this year, down to the iconic number 10. Above the five stars, though, my name is stitched in pretty cursive--a detail I'm sure is on everyone's--everyone who gets one. I guess. Whatever. On the back, it says David Lucca in the standard green letters, with happy birthday under it.

Hearing voices greeting each other, I take a deep breath, and leave the room. I close the door behind me, the cold tile against my bare feet again. I walk into the living room, and see some of Neymar's family and friends.

"Oh my god, Neymar!" His sister, Rafaella suddenly shrieks, "You didn't.. You didn't.. Alessandra!" She exclaims, rushing towards me, before practically tackling me in a hug. I slowly hug her back, "H-hi." I respond to her. The whole room suddenly echoes my name, asking me what I'm doing here and how I've been. As Rafaella releases me out of her arms, a curious look on her face too, I receive no help from Neymar. I fidget a little, suddenly shy in front of the people I had known so well. "Ney invited me to come for Davi's birthday." I say quietly. "Really?" His mom asks him, walking towards me, but al the while keeping her eyes on him, obviously questioning. She is suddenly upon me, hugging me tightly, "it's good to see you, Alessandra." She says sweetly. "You too." I respond shyly. "Ah, she has been gone for too long!" Duda suddenly shouts, causing everyone to laugh.

*•*•*•*

Neymar's POV

"Remind me why you let her go again." My father says, suddenly appearing at my side. I keep my eyes on Alessandra while she paints the faces of Davi and some on his friends, all voluntarily. "It's what she wanted." I say quietly, uncomfortable that I have to talk about this again. "Are you positive?" He asks, seemingly right on time as she turns and looks at me with those sparkling eyes of hers. "I guess I'll never know." I respond, keeping my gaze on her. Her cheeks redden and she turns away, so I turn to my father. "How have you been getting along?" He questions. I shrug a shoulder, "I didn't expect her to be to happy to see me again--I was right. She... Doesn't even like me as a person anymore." I pause, "I have to get used to seeing her here. It's... Different to say in the least."

The sound of her voice draws me away from my fathers next question and I see her stand from her current position and answer her phone. "Hello?" She asks sweetly. "Oh, hi Mari-" She's cut off by a female voice I can almost hear from here. "I-I'm back home." She says quietly. "No, I broke up with him." She exclaims, "He's beaten me!" My eyes widen, and anger suddenly flares up in me. "I don't care how drunk-" she stops short, obviously cut off again. "I'm trying okay?" She pleads desperately. The voice on the other end of the line reaches my ears, and I realize it to be her older sister's. "You need to lose that fucking weight, Alessandra!" Marisol shouts at her. I can see Alessandra's eyes start to shine as she wraps an arm around her torso self consciously. "There's a reason you're stuck in those damn one pieces!" Her sister rages on, "You're not going to get anywhere sitting on your ass!" Alessandra nods, "l know, I know, I'm sorry." She apologizes quietly. "I'm sorry for you. Stop trying to live in my shadow, Alessandra!" "I'm not trying to-" She's cut off by the line going dead, and she hangs her head. "San! Can you help me?" Davi asks her, pulling on her hand. She nods her head, "Just give me one second, okay? Il be right back." She says, voice heavy with sadness. "Okay!" My son replies, her current state obviously having no effect on him. She walks to the balcony door, before slipping out of the small opening she created. I distractedly place my drink on the counter behind me, and follow in her footsteps. First though, I stop by Davi, picking him up, "What do you need?" I ask him with a smile. "Can San paint my arms too?" He asks, holding them out in front of my face. "Why don't you go ask Rafaella for help, okay?" "Okay, daddy!" He exclaims before jumping out of my arms.

I open the patio door, and the sounds of Alessandra's sobs reach my ears. She's standing in front of the railing, face in her hands. I didn't know how to react at first, she never was one for crying. But my feet respond before my brain, and I walk over to her, before pulling her into my arms. To my surprise, she just nuzzles closer to me, her tears falling on my shoulder. I gently rub her arms, kissing her hair, my own eyes closed.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, but eventually she murmured an apology, and made an effort to escape my embrace. "It's okay, everyone has their moments." I say quietly. I relax my grip on her, and almost immediately regret it as she steps away from me. She swipes a piece of hair behind her ear, and sniffles. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask her quietly. "No." She practically whispers, eyes on the view in front of us. "Promise me you'll talk to me about it later?" I ask her, sticking a pinkie out and feeling slightly foolish. She smiles a little, before nodding and wrapping her pinkie around mine, "I promise."

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A/N: So I have changed the name of this story to Dreams, simply because I think it's more fitting than Kiss The Girl. I think that's a cute title, just for a different story line. Anyway, please comment and tell me what you think!

dreams {neymar jr.}Where stories live. Discover now