Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was late. The entire group had already called it a day—Toni, Isco and Sara, Cristiano and Georgina, Marcelo, Dani, Sergio and Pilar, among many other players of Real Madrid CF, had left the nightclub, all as drunk as each other. That was apart from Marco Asensio, of course. He was slumped in one corner, almost completely wasted, still avoiding the one girl he'd been avoiding the entire night: Clara.
"Marco," she called from across the club, stumbling over to him in her stilettos. She grinned. "I know you hate me and it's okay that we will never be the best of friends—" began Clara.
"—but we should try and be civil for the sake of Isco since I've been friends with him since I was little. Yep, heard it before, Clara." Marco interrupted, mocking her, rolling his eyes. He disliked the 21 year old at the best of times, but especially when she was drunk.
Clara bit her lip, looking up at Marco with her large deep brown eyes. There was a slight, awkward pause in which the pair was looking into one another's eyes, left with nothing to say.
"Why do you hate me?" Clara squeaked, the loud club music dominating her small voice.
Marco pulled a face. "Huh?"
"Why do you hate me?" Clara repeated, yelling this time directly into Marco's ear.
For a moment, Marco had to ask himself the same question. He wasn't even sure why he disliked Clara so much. Maybe it was the way she drank too much on group nights out and forced everybody dance with her. Maybe it was the way she giggled so hard at Marcelo's stupid jokes she would snort. Maybe it was the way she would always cheer too loud during every single Real Madrid home game. Maybe it was the way she could hardly walk in those tall ass stilettos but still managed to look perfect.
"I don't." Marco mumbled.
Clara scrunched up her face. To Marco, she looked quite cute. "What?" The music in the club was evidently too loud.
Sighing, Marco opened his mouth preparing to speak a little louder this time. He caught Clara's eyes once more. She looked beautiful. "Fuck it," he murmured, crashing his lips onto hers.
There was a pause of hesitation in which Clara had no clue what the hell was going on. Marco reached for her cheek with his hand and guided her in again, kissing her harder this time. Falling into the kiss, Clara's tongue entered Marco's mouth slowly and her two arms stretched up and curled around Marco's neck passionately. With Clara pushed up against the wall, their tongues danced lustfully with each other. It was as if they couldn't get enough of each other, their hands wandering each other's bodies like they'd never meet again.
Eventually, they both broke the kiss and they were panting rapidly.
