' It's my turn to take care of you '
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I sit in my seat, watching Ney play against Lille. He was dribbling up, going as fast as he could until he folds his ankle in as he goes for the goal.
He immediately falls to the ground, screaming in pain. I cover my mouth immediately, "Fuck," I consistently repeat, Antonela looking over at me. She reaches for my hand, "Y/N, maybe it'll be okay," she tries to calm me down as I continue to watch my hurt fiancé on the pitch.
He tries to get up and walk as Kylian helps stabilize him, only causing him to sit right back down on the stretcher. "Oh god," I stand up from my seat, they carry Neymar out on the stretcher and I rush down toward the tunnel.
As I arrive at the beginning of the tunnel, they are reaching me. I can hear Neymar's cries, "Baby, I'm right here," I grab his hand as they push the stretcher on wheels now. "Amor," he calms down a bit, "Yeah, I'm right here," I tell him.
They load him into the ambulance, "Ney, I'll meet you there, I took the car here today," I tell him, he nods at me and the paramedics close the door.
I rapidly move toward the private parking to find my car.
Once I find the tinted G-Wagon, I get in and speed off toward the ambulance that is taking Neymar to the PSG medical center.
As we arrived at the medical center, I immediately slam my car into park and jump out quickly. They unload Neymar and I rush toward them to walk in with them.
"Y/N?" he asks as he probably sees another person join them, "I'm here," I tell him. He smiles a bit, looking drowsy. I'm assuming they gave him some pain medication.
They bring him into the center where we see other players walking in and out for their injuries, whether they're getting check-ups or physical therapy, they were there. The paramedics immediately brought us into a room and Neymar slipped into the med center bed, "Thank you so much," I tell the paramedics as they rush out and mumbled feel betters.
"Amor, how are you feeling?" I grab his heavily tattooed hand, "I'm in pain, but not that much pain," he rambles. I laugh a bit at him and it calms me that he wasn't in too much pain.
The doctor comes into the room and spews a bunch of stuff at us, I nod my head trying to understand before he takes Neymar for x-rays and MRIs.
I checked my phone and got a gazillion messages, some from our giant family group chat, most from friends. I text the family back, of course, telling them all was good and updating them.
I anxiously awaited for them to bring Neymar back, the nurses wheel the bed back in and the doctor follows, "So, as of right now, no break, no fracture, so I'm going to issue it as a sprain, but there is definitely some ligament damage," the doctor tells me, "Alright, so what should I do that can help him?" I ask, "Well, definitely keeping him off his feet that's for sure, I'm going to assume you guys have all the fancy machinery at your house," the doctor laughs as I nod my head.
We were finally released from the center and I wheel Neymar in the wheelchair out to the car, I help load him into the car and I put the crutches in the backseat of the car.
I make my way back to the house, Neymar holding onto my hand as I drive, "You okay baby?" I ask him, "Mhm, just tired," he yawns. I'm sure the pain meds have worn off now.
The way home seemed quicker than usual, I pull as close as I can to the door and parked, and turned the car off immediately. I rush over to Neymar's side of the car and grab the crutches from the backseat immediately.
"Here," I push the crutches toward him, "Thank you, baby," he leans forward to kiss me.
We get into the house and luckily we have a guest room on our main floor that we were able to sleep in, "Do you want to go to the couch or the room?" I ask him, "Room please," he says.
We go toward the room and he lays in bed. I grab a stack of pillows and place them under his foot so that it is elevated, "Anything else?" I ask him, "No, I'm okay right now," he tells me. I nod and make my way out of the room.
First, I go upstairs to grab some change of clothes, both for me and Neymar. I make my way back downstairs and then, I prepare Neymar some of his favorite snacks and drinks, I grab an icepack and some pain meds and I put it all on a tray.
I knock lightly on the door, letting Neymar know I'm walking in. I don't hear an answer, but I still walk in. "Baby?" I whisper. I continue to get closer and I hear light snores escaping his lips. I smile a bit, I decide not to wake him up.
I put the icepack on his elevated foot and I change my clothes. I go to wash my face off to get all the makeup off.
When I was done washing my face, I crawl into bed next to Neymar. I plug both our phones in and I crawl into his arms.
He reacts to me being in his arms while bringing me in closer. His eyes open a bit, "Baby," he coos, "Yeah?" I ask, "Thank you for taking care of me," he smiles, "You always take care of me, it's my turn to take care of you," I tell him.
He leans down to kiss me, "I love you so much," he says, "I love you more," I smile. "Do you want to sleep or I brought you some snacks," I tell him. He looks over at the tray making sure that nothing on there will melt or go bad.
"Can we just sleep?" he asks, "Of course amor," I tell him as he starts to fall back asleep. I bring his arm which was wrapped around me and grab his hand. I lightly tickle the top of his hand and play with his fingers, occasionally kissing the top of his hand.
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