godspeed | marcus rashford

eight.

realisation & acceptance

Coming back from France had Kyrie overdosing on relief. The trip abroad wasn't anything two special; handing, advising and meeting players was the task but a repetitive one that she grew tired of. I mean, sure, there were the positive aspects of the trip though they didn't outweigh what she had in England, specifically in Liverpool and Manchester. If they didn't have any genuine relations with Wynter then players abroad were narrowed down to acquaintances according to Kyrie; suddenly players were no longer sexist when they recognised the extent of the french player's worth.

So of course it made sense for Kyrie to perhaps be based in England; there was that simple experience that she could get from neither France nor Germany. This also meant she preferred English clubs. She didn't have a favourite club nor did she consider herself a mere fan of one (even being born and bred in Liverpool led Kyrie nowhere near to joining the Kop). So if the question was ever asked by a player, she would simply respond with the player's club so she could deter from entering into a discussion about why said club was better than another club. Yes, she worked in the football industry, but her chosen job didn't require supporting a club in return.

Nearing the afternoon mark, Kyrie wandered through Aon Training Grounds with peace of mind. She spent a small sum of her morning at Etihad Campus for Claire's only Man City client, Phil Foden. From there, she travelled across Manchester to be at Man Utd training ground. She had a few meetings to attend to though a majority of them required the players' appearance so she was left to wait while the morning training commenced for the players.

Upon comprehending the voices of a few players, she concluded that they had recently wrapped up training for the morning so she strayed towards where they were stationed. She wanted to maintain her presence on the down-low so she remained at the entrance so she could overlook the players as they gradually filed into the room from outside. Of course, her figure didn't go unnoticed by everyone; she received a few waves, smiles and silent acknowledgements from players that knew of her to which she kindly returned.

Much to her dismay, Paul had to place her presence on a universal level by calling out hi Kyrie, causing everyone in the area to glance her way. Paul offered her a thumbs up while she simply folded her arms as her fingers rubbed along her forehand, holding back the laughs she had sniffled up.

Straying into the room, she didn't have time to comprehend anything before she was engulfed into a hug. She let out a soft oh at being embraced by this taller figure and for a moment, she wondered who it was. But the second the person uttered KJ rather than Kyrie in an elated tone, she had a clear idea as to whose hands were so quick to wander over her waist. And for that, she had to let free a little moment of euphoria as her hand strayed over their shoulders.

"Is this really necessary?" Kyrie's nose wrinkled nose, her blinks gone dazed. "You actually reek that it's hurting my nose."

"Only for you, KJ," Marcus said with a soft smile as he pulled away. "So you've been gone for a while. Also, how was the trip?"

Kyrie started as she shoved her hands in her pants pockets. "It could have been better and yes, I have been gone for a while. Just like every other time 'cause it's my job. Where's the difference?" Her brow curved up as she glanced at Marcus with a questioning look.

Even without speaking a word, she could sense that Marcus was stumbling on his words. Though rather than rushing him on, she allowed him to take his time and speak as he wanted. His index finger clung onto his neckwarmer as he spoke, his voice pitch varying. "Nothing, it's just that—I, you know, missed you this time around when you were gone. I wasn't lying when I told you while you were in London."