𝟎𝟎𝟒.

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𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥



aline couldn't help the small, smug smile that manifested itself onto her face as she watched jules stroll onto the pitch wearing a jersey that adorned a number fifteen.

she decided to test out his reflexes, picking up a ball and launching it at his body.

displaying the range of his agility, he twisted so that his body wouldn't get hit and at the same time, threw his hands forwards to grab the ball.

"are you trying to kill me?" he blinked at her, unimpressed.

"just making sure f.c. barca femenino's new number fifteen still has it in him." she shot him a sarcastic smile.

"making sure i have what, in me exactly? i'm not a goalkeeper." he grimaced at her immaturity.

aline rolled her eyes. "loosen up, will you?"

"me? i've never met somebody who takes themselves as seriously as you do." jules scoffed.

"that's not who i am at all." she took a step towards him, her forehead just level with his chin. she was close enough to hear him exhale softly. "you questioned my authority just hours before an el clasico." she shook her head. "how did you expect me to react?"

"is all you do talk in these sessions?" he began to side step around the pitch, warming his body up as he prepared to play against his female counterparts in a mock match for today's session. "i'm struggling to see why they made you captain."

"alright, if that's how you're going to be." she walked over to the nearest ball, and positioned herself relatively far away from the goal but still in directed front of it. "come show me your best free kick from this position." she pointed at the floor. "bronze, batlle." she called. "come stand in front of the goal."

"from here? no one can do that." jules point blank refused.

"you sure? then go join them." she pointed at her teammates who were lining up in front of the goal.

he reluctantly obeyed her, but only for an opportunity to prove her wrong. he took his place next to lucy bronze, their shoulders pressed against one another to create a wall. 

"england deserved to win that semi-final." she whispered, trying to throw him off even though they were on the same side of the current objective. 

"be quiet." he rolled his eyes and brushed her off, as aline lined herself up to take the dreaded free kick.

she took her run up, pausing for a millisecond before she swung her leg back. she struck the ball perfectly enough to earn both range and curl, and it buried itself into the net just behind the left post.

jules simply stared in disbelief. "that's never been done before?" 

"no." ona interjected. "it's never been done in men's football before."

he absorbed what his fellow full-back had just told him, and walked over to aline to shake her hand. "impressive." he muttered.

she blinked up at him with her large, dark eyes and batted her eyelashes. she paused for a few moments, the hesitation silently humbling the defender; before she graciously accepted his hand. "i hope that was more on your level, world cup winner jules koundé." she shook his hand vigourously, but to his relief a small smile played on her plump lips. 

the corners of his mouth threatened to twitch upwards, as he wrung his hand in feigned pain. "definitely." 

it was only jules' third day training with the women's first team, and they were slowly opening his eyes in a way he was too prideful to admit.






──★ ˙ ̟🌷 !!


i have decided that i really

enjoy writing short stories.

maybe more to come hehe

♡ 

interdit, ˚⊹ jules koundéWhere stories live. Discover now