INTERTWINED | PABLO GAVI

[21] like we agreed

CAMILE's POV

this was not worth getting up the couch.

"so you come back from saudí and the first thing you do is show up to my door?!"

"not true, i celebrated with my family, then i came here." gavi is not real. "whatever, go away."

"no we made a—"

"forget about the deal!" the second i recover i'm only gonna continue to show my worth. i can't have him around for that. "no, i'm coming in." with no invitation, he smiles in my face and walks in anyways after i just had my jaw on the floor. "come lay down already!"

"i should've never gotten up in the first place." i whisper. "que dijiste? (what'd you say?)"

"nada! (nothing!)" we both know he heard.

"gavi, can i ask?" i'm leaning on the counter and he's already sat at the edge of my couch when i grab his attention. "ask what?"

"not saying i didn't expect anything less of you... but how?" he plays at his best in the midfield, but two assists and a goal on the left is just a whole other level. "i wish i knew. want me to teach you?"

theres this smug look on his face i could wipe off any second if i let my thoughts out.

"sure, when i get better, of course."

he looked surprised after it didn't even correlate with the unimpressed look i had on my face when he said that. "so, camile," dear god. "tell me everything about you now that we're friends forever and ever and ever and—"

"gavi that's too many 'and ever's' for me."

"are you already trying to tell me something?" i've been trying before we 'agreed' to this. "whatever. i do better with questions than me just going on... forever and ever and ever—"

"okay you had a point," see, it is annoying. "when's your birthday anyways?"

"my birth date, duh." now he's unimpressed. i laugh and take a seat on one of my stools and turn it to his direction. "it's on valentine's day." i've been thinking about how close the date is approaching. "seriously? that's cool."

i guess you can say that. "favorite color?"

"i can't do this, gavi." i finally say.

and we're only two questions in. "at least try, camile."

fine, then i'll go. "why do you even wanna be friends? cuz to me it feels like it's out of pity."

"do you seriously think that?" unfortunately... yeah.

i nod slowly, not knowing how he'll take it and his expression changes just like that. it has me thinking that maybe i shouldn't have asked at all.

"well for one, it's not out of pity. i wanted to be friends for the same reason we share the spotlight. you do realize we could have more in common than just wearing thirty, right?" not any that i can name of. "like what?"

"i was getting to that with these questions, camile."

for some reason, it felt like i wasn't speaking to pablo gavi. "so... can we continue?" after not saying anything and staring right at him for what felt like forever, he spoke again and i once again, nodded slowly because i'm convinced in a way. "what's america like, anyways?"

"wait because i love this question."

i've never gotten out my chair so quickly and jumped on the couch. "tu espalda (your back), camile!" the moment he said that my eyes widened in a bit of fear.