Back To The Beginning | Marco Reus/Erik Durm

Chapter 15

Crying for no reason feel the tears roll down
I felt strong but am I breaking down?
Crying for no reason 'cause I buried it deep
I made promises I could not keep
'Cause I never faced all the pain I caused
Now the pain is hitting me full force
Forgive me now 'cause I said that I'll be there for you, care for you
I let you down, I walked away
'Cause there were things I couldn't say to you, say to you
I'm breaking now

"Marco?" I asked, before slowly opening the greyish door.

There was no response, my words just hang onto the air, but as I stepped into the room, I saw his pail face.

Finally,I had been to three hospitals before this one. I should probably have asked Mario which one they had sent Marco too.

Marco was lying in a white room; it felt so quit and cold. His face was pail, his lips out of colour and dry. It almost scared me to see him like this. Usually, he had so much life written all over his face; now he almost looked like a ghost.

Though his eyes were swollen and they had a red glace over them; he had been crying. Not just sobbing as I had seen him do a couple times before. No crying, one of those painful once where you feel like you can't breathe.

I took a deep breath, but forgot to exhale. I walked further into the room, feeling a sharpened pain in my chest grow. He didn't look like himself. I barely recognized him.

I sat down on a chair next to the bed, licking my lips. I don't know why, but suddenly, I let my fingers run through his hair. It was brittle. Brushing his skin, made mine burn. Maybe because he was warm, maybe because I'd missed touching him.

I found his hand, as I wrapped mine around it. Usually, Marco had warm hands - I remember how I always held his hand whenever I was freezing – but today they were ice cold. I don't know why, but a tear or two made its way down my cheeks.

"Please be okay" I mumbled, closing my eyes.

I had completely forgotten, that this would be Marco's first World Cup too. It wasn't just something special for Erik, it was special for Marco too. So incredibly special.

It made me feel ashamed about the way I had acted around him to be honest. I stroked his cold fingers, trying to get some heat in them, but nothing I did, made them any warmer. My eyes glanced over to the window. You could see the stadium from here.

Ironic. What if he wouldn't get better? What if he'd be out? No, I can't even think like that. Of course he will, he has too.

I remember this one night – shortly after we'd met – where Marco was trying to teach me a thing or two about football, we got talking about the World Cup. I remember how his eyes starting shining in a way, I had never seen before. He had this distant look in his eyes, almost like he was imagining it all.

It made me imagine it; Marco walking into a screaming stadium with a huge smile painted on his lips. It made me smile.

"Mila?" A sore voice whispered.

It pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked down at Marco, who had his eyes half opened. With my free hand, I let it run over his cheek.

"Hey you" I whispered.

"You're crying" he said, noiseless.

"Sorry" I mumbled, wiping away the tears.

"Please don't cry" he whispered, again almost without any sound.