Enamoured《 Neymar Jr

twenty one

A/N hope you enjoy this rare throwback pic of Ney!

TARAYA'S POV:

Neymar claimed to forgive me, but I was severely doubtful of that statement. A flash of hurt flashed across his features when I had revealed the truth but his expression swiftly transformed back into its platonic self.

My head was on Ney's lap and he was peacefully combing through the wild mess that was my hair. This whole ordeal sounded excessively cliché and joyful. It almost felt too surreal for reality.

"Ney?" I asked.

"Mm?" He mumbled.

"I know you're angry at me,"

"What? No of course I'm not!" He replied a little too defensively.

"Look," I glanced up into his mesmerising eyes, "I can understand if you are annoyed. What I did was extremely stupid and I should have told you earlier. Just please, tell me what you feel!"

He finally stopped combing through my locks and solemnly looked down at me.

"Alright," he sighed, "I admit that I felt slightly betrayed. You had so many opportunities to tell me. But I will forgive and forget. It's a huge step to come clean. I would have done the same for you."

"Thank you!" I smiled.

"Anything for you baby!"

We spent the next hour mutely, wrapped in each other's arms.

"I wonder where everyone else is..." I said, finally breaking the serene silence that lingered.

"Who cares?" Ney guffawed, "We're going to focus on just you and me today?"

"What?"

"Tell me about yourself amo; I barely know the simplest things about you!"

"Oh," I stuttered, "I thought that you meant something very different!"

"You wish!" He laughed.

I punched him playfully in the shoulder.

The fact that we had skipped straight to second base and unhelathy strong affection had just dawned on me after Neymar said it.

"Where do you want me to start?" I chuckled.

"Let's play 20 questions, but with a lot more than just twenty questions." He suggested.

It was rather pleasant to get to know the person you love better. I had learnt that he always ate first thing in the morning, he always got lost in Barcelona, he does not know how to wear a tie and that he doesn't follow a typical athlete's diet.

"What do you eat then?" I asked.

"Anything," he answered, "I mostly eat junky stuff but its nobody minds since people want me to put on weight anyway!"

"We must be twins!" I declared, "But how do you not know how to wear a tie?"

"Dunno. I just get my dad to do it when required."

"Dude I've got to teach you. Even I know how to!"

I ran into his enormous walk in closet and gazed wondrously at all the clothing. There were hundreds of items there, all divided into their respected sections. The tie segment was significantly smaller than the rest of the sections. Finding the first tie that came to hand, I hurried back to Neymar.

"Go and change into a formal shirt with a collar." I instructed him.

He immediately obeyed  and found a shirt that satisfied my expectations.