the colours of the vibrant city blurred past her as gerard's car sped through barcelona heading for the camp nou.
the car was almost silent apart from the quiet bickering of shakira telling him to "drive slower," and pique refusing with an unconvincing "but we'll be late".
✱
DM's to @marcandres:
@blaugrana: i hope you do well today
6:03pm
@blaugrana: don't concede
6:03pm
@blaugrana: for me please
6:04pm
@marcandres: thank you kyara
6:07pm
@marcandres: I wish you could be here to wish me good luck :(
6:08pm
@marcandres: maybe I'll see you in madrid one day?!
6:10pm
@blaugrana: i wish i could be there too
6:13pm
@blaugrana: maybe one day but i gotta go, do well for me, love u x
6:15pm
@marcandres: i love you too
6:17m
✱
she ended the conversation quickly, realising that soon, she'd be able to speak to him in person.
☼
a/n: they totally forgot about the fight, didn't they? have a wonderful day! and remember to vote and all that stuff. much love, eva xo.
YOU ARE READING
direct messages | ter stegen
Fanfictionin which a twitter username is mistaken for a famous footballer and a friendship is formed through direct messages. [lowercase intended] cover by sasha; @keepmelukewarm
