you're my home | pedri gonzalez

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your heart split in two when spain were knocked out of the world cup. not only because your home country didn't get as far as anyone would have wanted, but also because of the way that you knew the players would be feeling in that moment, knowing that their childhood dream of winning a world cup would have to wait at least another four years longer.

one of those players you knew very well, and you knew, as soon as you saw him sink to the floor when morocco were confirmed quarter finalists, you knew you would have a tough job on your hands in being there to console him once he was home.

☀︎☽☆☾☀︎

there was a knock at your apartment door, signalling to you that pedri had finally arrived. you made your way over to the door, trying to figure out the perfect response to say to the person that you loved so much, and had missed so much in the month you had been apart, but who had also just been through a very hard time.

when you open the door, you are met with his tired face and one of his signature crooked smiles, that didn't quite take over his face like they usually did. "hi," he said, taking no time to step into your arms, a feeling that he had missed dearly.

"hi, pedro," you whispered, wrapping your arms around him tightly, clinging onto him a little longer than you usually did, because in truth you both needed it.

once you pulled away, you both hung out in silence, watching tv, making food together, or simply just being there to hold one another. that was until you had a great idea.

"hey, do you feel like going somewhere?"

pedri looked up at you from where he had his head placed in your lap. "sure," he nodded, sitting up. he still didn't seem like his usual self, but you were hoping what you had planned would help him feel a little better.

you collected the bag you had packed earlier from your room, and the two of you made your way down to the car. you drove for about twenty minutes, until you arrived at an area where there were multiple football pitches laid out in front of you.

you turned to him once you were parked up, "i know the last thing you probably want to think about right now is football, but remember when we were kids, and whenever i was sad, you always used to take me to that little pitch back home and play football with me, because you knew how much it cheered me up. i wanted to see if i could do the same thing for you, but if you don't want to i completely understand, and we can go back home."

you could see his face change slightly, as he looked at you with so much love in his eyes. "no, i really want to do it, as long as you let me win, though, i'm still feeling very fragile," he placed his hand over his heart, a big smile on his face, the first genuine one you had seen all day.

"i don't feel that sorry for you, pedro. i have a winning streak to keep up, remember."

the evening turned out much better than you could have planned. you and pedri spent your time acting as if you were those two kids who fell in love through their mutual love of football. you laughed until there were tears streaming down your face, always making fun of each other whenever the other messed up, and also nutmegging each other, until you were equally humiliated. you reminded pedri that night why he fell in love with football, taking his mind away from his world exit successfully. 

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