in which marco reus falls head over heels in love with a woman whose skin is much darker than his.
(completed in 2016, CURRENTLY BEING REWRITTEN in 2020)
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722 likes • liked by marcinho11 natashaclotaire: my speciality is stealing everything from @ameliahuff's closet and passing it off as my own 35 comments ameliahuff: you gave yourself away sis 🤣 natashaclotaire: @ameliahuff merde!
—
"Mein Gott, Marco. Are you listening to anything I just said?"
"Sorry, what?"
"Good grief. Fine," Mario rolled his eyes. "If you're too unamused by what I'm saying, let's talk about something else."
After a well-played match against Stuttgart, Marco and a handful of his teammates were having dinner at L'Osteria in an upscale part of Dortmund—but not even his pricey Italian meal could keep him focused on the words of Mario Götze. Quite frankly, Mario's repetitive tales regarding Ann-Kathrin were rather boring—so who could blame the blonde for not caring?
Marco let out a smooth chuckle. "What is there to talk about? I'd rather drink instead." He lifted his cold beer, taking an easy sip from the glass bottle.
"Oh, but of course you would. Because drinking means going to Cocaine—and then you'd see the lovely Natasha, wouldn't you?" Mats's remark was sly, surprising Marco and causing him to eye his teammate. How the hell does he know about her?
It'd been two days since Marco's late-night conversation with Natasha, and his heartbeat still increased drastically whenever he thought about it. He'd fulfilled his promise that night, staying at the club longer than anyone else just to hold a conversation with her. He discovered that Natasha was far more adorable than he would've imagined, despite her suspicion towards him—she'd left a lot of Marco's questions unanswered. Thoughts of touching her brown skin permeated his mind often; enticing him at the most inappropriate of moments. He was so drunk by the end of their conversation that it was Natasha who called him an Uber, meaning he certainly couldn't have managed to seduce her back to his place. Still, Marco hadn't seen or talked to her since—and he certainly hadn't told any of his friends, even Mats, about her.
"Natasha? Who's that?" A curious Jadon spoke, munching on a piece of pasta.
"She's nobody," Marco quickly responded. "I mean...she's just a friend."
"No woman can be just a friend when it comes to you, Marco." Julian snorted. "Come on, then. Who's this Natasha?"
"Seriously, guys—"
"She's a bartender," interrupted Mats, with a grin. "At Cocaine. You know, she's black, and she's got—"
"Wait, what?" Mario rose his eyebrows, turning to face his compatriot. He didn't dare to repeat the words that had caught his attention—but he didn't need to. "Marco Reus, you truly never do fail to surprise me."
