vingt-quatre : apologies

2.3K 67 21
                                    


march thirty-first | paris, france

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" he glared, making her groan and roll over.

"Shut up, it's early and I have a hangover," she croaked.

"It's 2 in the afternoon, Estella," he tutted, "Get up and talk to me."

"Why am I even here, Serge?" she grunted, sitting up with her eyes closed. Serge took full pleasure in opening the curtains to let every bit of sun ray through.

"Why are you even here? Stella, you were lucky I was at the club last night. You three weren't in a state of mind to get yourselves home safely last night. I dropped them at Gina's apartment but I couldn't be bothered to drive to yours. Why were you drinking?"

"Why were you at the club? I thought you cleaned up your act, bad-boy Aurier," she fired.

He scoffed and retorted, "And I thought you cleaned up yours. I was sober last night. What would Julian think?"

"Frankly I don't care," she snapped, "Haven't you heard? I caught him kissing his ex-girlfriend against a wall."

Serge frowned, before his expression turned angry, "He cheated on you? Like Luca? What the fuck is wrong with him? Come on, i'll beat him up."

"Save your breath," she grunted, "I'm going to talk to him soon. To clarify if we've broken up or not so my publicists can issue a statement to the nosy public,"

"What do you mean clarify? Of course you should break up with him! I don't care if he's my teammate; i've known you so much longer," Serge fumed.

"Hey!" she yelled, "Shut up! You're hurting my head."

"Do not tell me you're going to stay with him," Serge folded his arms sternly.

Stella failed to respond coherently for a few moments as she thought. Was what he did really that bad? Oh, who was she kidding- she was just making up excuses for him.

"Serge, I love him," she murmured quietly.

-

"Let's sit here," she tugged on his sleeve, but he completely ignored her suggestion and went straight to one of the booths. Serge always claimed he liked sitting on padded seats better.

Ultimately, Serge had dragged her out for some late lunch. They spent about half an hour in her penthouse as she got ready and applied makeup to look presentable, and then they were off to her favourite casual restaurant, which served the best hangover food. Although, her hangover was disappearing by the minute since she took some aspirin.

"When did you say you were going to see Julian again?" Serge hummed.

"Soon, but probably not that soon. I just don't feel like seeing him," Stella sighed.

"Well, that's awkward," and as soon as Julian's voice rang out from behind her, she wanted to strangle Serge Aurier.

Julian took a seat beside Serge, who made no effort to greet him amicably. Frankly, he was quite angry at the German for hurting one of his best friends.

"What are you doing here?" she snarled.

"What are you doing here? Serge asked me to go for lunch," he retorted, not in a sassy manner; more in a confused way.

"You two are here to kiss and make up," Serge glared, "And you've known what you've done for days, Jule and yet you haven't apologised. You can do that now. Go,"

"What makes you think i'll forgive him?" she fired, glaring holes into her menu.

They were briefly interrupted by a server coming to take their orders, and then the tension resumed.

flashes ✦ julian draxler Where stories live. Discover now