Like Real People Do - Jill Roord

It Will Be For Nana

Hunter's POV

When the whistle blew I didn't even look over at my team's joy, my heart simply didn't follow them. Instead I searched the pitch for Jill, picking out every orange kit and looking for her dark blonde hair.

The world still spun, the noise around me was disorientating and it felt like walking through a maze, every step uneven and the stands felt so close but yet so very far. Each person looked like they could be Jill, they looked around her height or the hair color was similar but then I'd realize it wasn't her.

I couldn't find her, she was lost to me. 

I'd never before had to search so desperately for her as the panic began to grip at my throat, feeling the lump in my throat cut off my supply of oxygen. I had no reason to panic, that's what I tried telling myself, but I spun and spun yet still couldn't find her. What if she'd left? What if she was gone just like everyone else?

And then finally I saw her.

I sighed, my heart begining to slow and the relief pricked my eyes with tears as I began to walk over to her. There was Jill, my Jilly. She was sat down near the wing, hands around her knees and face buried into her lap. The crashing disappointment of an elimination, especially this far into the tournament, was a painful pill to swallow.

I sat myself down besides her, the world was quiet and it was only us two that lived in it right now, "I'm sorry Jilly," I whispered, my voice strangely coarse.

Jill looked up, resting her chin on her knees, her eyes were red, her cheeks pinkened. It hurt me to see her like this, even just for a moment, because immediately I'd want to make it all better and see her dance through life again. She gently shook her head, "There's nothing to be sorry for, you did what you had to do."

Jill may have been right. Today I'd done nothing wrong, I'd just done what everyone would've done, but the truth was that I had a lot to be sorry for. I wouldn't bring it up now because Jill didn't need to think about it today, but I hadn't been my best for her recently. 

I opened my arms, Jill buried her head into my chest, her arms finding their way around my waist. I held her tight and kissed the top of her head, wishing that our celebrations didn't have to be at the cost of her disappointment, but that was football; something I could never change. 

"There will always be another chance," I told her, "This time it just wasn't meant to be."

Jill sniffed, "I know," she sat up, wiping a hand across her face, "It just sucks for now."

I lightly smiled at the way I spoke had now started playing through her vocabulary too. "You had a tournament to be proud of, you played well."

Jill furrowed her eyebrows, "I didn't think you'd have watched."

Gently, I shook my head, "Course I watched."

"But you didn't reply to any of my messages," her words were quiet, broken almost and that hurt me. Hurting Jill was the last thing I'd ever want to do. 

"Vilda's had me pretty busy, I'm sorry," I rubbed the back of my neck.

It was true, my free time was spent torn between my meetings in Vilda's office, which only grew more and more unsettling, and the bar down the strip. No one could know about either of those past times, they were the secrets I had to keep.

"I understand," Jill glanced at the floor for a moment before pulling her gaze back up to me, "But you're okay, right?" She seemed almost fearful of my answer but that was Jill, I'd come over here to look after her and she ended up checking on me. I'd always said and I know I'd always say it, but Jill was far too kind for her own good.