Reunion - Mapi Leon x Reader

Chapter 4 - Jet Lag

I’ve forgotten what it feels like to wake up with the weight of someone else on top of me. My right arm’s dead from where Lottie’s shoulder rests across it, but when I hear her steady gentle breathing I suddenly don’t care anymore. She completely broke down on me last night to the point where I had to teach her how to breathe again. I try to slowly remove my arm from underneath her in an effort not to wake her.
“I’m awake.” I startle at her words.
“Could you get off my arm please darling?” The darling just slips out of my mouth before I can stop it. A part of me still thinks that Lottie and I are the same best friends we used to be all those years ago, but last night is evidence that I’ve missed a lot. She rolls off me before leaning back over to place her head on my stomach. Maybe she also somewhat feels like no time has passed. I let her sink into me, and she closes her eyes as I place my arm around her. I may have fallen back asleep myself if I hadn’t gotten a phone call.

I pick it up, answering instantly when I see the name on the screen.
“Mapi! Thank God!” Alexia’s relieved face fills my screen.
“Shh! It’s too early for yelling.” I whisper, trying not to wake Lottie up for a second time this morning.
“It’s 2pm. You were supposed to be at training hours ago, but nobody has been able to get hold of you. We thought something seriously bad had happened.”
“Wait, what?”
“Where are you Mapi?”
I’m silent far too long for the excuse I come up with to sound legitimate. “I’m sick.”
“You’re sick?”
“Yes. Very.” I make an attempt at a cough. It’s obvious Alexia is not buying it at all, however she knows me well enough to know that if I’m not at training there is going to be a good reason for it.
“Okay well get better soon, and remember to tell someone that you’re unwell next time so you don’t have us all worried.”
“Copy that captain.”

I put my phone down again, and decide I had better wake Lottie up. I have no clue how long she’s in Spain for but I know she’s jet lagged and had a late night. If she wants any chance of adjusting to the timezone here, then she needs to be awake during daylight hours, no matter how peaceful she looks. I tap against her head until she swats my hand away in annoyance.
“Lots. It’s 2pm.”
“I heard.” She groans and slowly sits up. I look into her tired eyes and feel bad, but persist in my efforts nonetheless.
“Come on. I’ll take you to get a coffee and then I really must go home,” I offer.
“Good idea. I certainly need coffee.” She reaches out for her phone, and her face falls when she reads the messages. “My sister wants me to come over, but wedding preparations don’t sound all that thrilling.”
“So you’re staying till after the wedding?” I ask, suddenly hopeful that I may see her again.
“Yeah. Then back to San Diego.”
“What’s it like there?”
“I’ll tell you at the coffee shop.” She ends, dragging me out of bed to get ready.

We walk down the street looking like sleep deprived zombies - messy bed hair, clothes from last night, yesterdays make up - but my need for coffee is too dire to care. Lottie on the other hand looks as if she’s just becoming aware of where she is and what she looks like. I grab her hand and give a squeeze to reassure her. We’re probably going to get even more strange looks now, but I don’t point this out to Lots as she leans closer towards me. Eventually we stumble across a cute little café part way down an alleyway, and go inside to order.

We sit down at a table which looks to be made of half an old door, on seats that are upholstered with a patchwork quilt, next to a wall with record covers dotted along it. It’s not your typical Spanish café, but it’s small and we’re the only people here. Lottie takes her phone out while we wait, so I do the same. There’s a few people I need to send my apologies to for missing training today. I want to feel guilty about not showing up, because I’ve always been someone who trains to the best of her ability at all times, but I’m not. Sometimes a person is more important than football.

“So, I overheard what you told Alexia this morning.” Lots appears to still have the ability to read my mind. “I really appreciate you giving up your time to help me. I know I was a bit of a mess last night, and you could have easily got up and left me at the hotel this morning to go to your training, but you stayed.”
“I think you need to talk to someone about what’s going on that isn’t from San Diego, and doesn’t have a personal connection to the matter. Well, except for making sure you’re safe.”
“I know I keep putting it off, but in a minute? Tell me about what you’ve been up to first.”
“Well, I play for Barça-”
“No.” She cuts me off. “Yeah, you play for Barça, are an amazing defender, blah, blah, blah, but what have you been up to besides football? I could just google you if I wanted to know about your football career.”
“Well I hang out with the girls sometimes.” I start before actually considering what I do in my free time. “I’ve gotten a few more tattoos.”
“Yeah. Just a couple.” She rolls her eyes. “They’re cool though. You remember how we said we’d get matching tattoos one day?”
“You left before we could do that.” I say, remembering how she had come up with the idea and design herself. 

The coffee shows up, and I take a sip of mine right away. It’s not brilliant, but it’ll have to do. I’m realising now that we probably should have got some food as well. Perhaps we’ll find a place on the way back, although I’m not entirely sure if I’ll walk her back to the hotel or just head straight home from here. Once I put my coffee down she’s back to questioning me again.

“So that’s all you do. Play football, hang out with girls from football, and get tattoos?”
“I’ve travelled a little.” I protest. I don’t like how she’s making my life sound so uninteresting.
“Let me guess, with people from football to play football games?”
“Maybe.” I admit.
“What about the whole realising you were gay thing? Found any cute girls?”
“Nobody that lasted.” I sigh. I’ve really got to get her to talk about herself, because examining my life is making me feel like I’m not doing anything with it. I did do something pretty important to me last year after Euros, however Lots doesn’t need to know about the letter 15 of us sent last September. Not at the moment anyway. If she’s googled me then she might even already know about that. It’s her turn to be questioned now.

“You’ve got your answers. Tell me about America now.”

(Well, well, well. Looks like does1tmatt3r gets motivation easier than I do! Whipping out chapters like it's easy work. (I'm joking, by the way) this is entirely written by her, not me. No credit for me this time. New chapter out soon! Love ya<3)