Football Imagines

Romelu Lukaku

It was a warmer day in England as you walked alongside your long-term boyfriend, Romelu. You had some some vacation time to visit Manchester with him. He was planning to show you the arena where he played football during his seasons in the Premier league for Manchester United. You both were walking in a. quiet, peaceful manner, enjoying the company of one another.

Thankfully your job allowed you to take the two weeks off. You worked for a law firm in Liverpool; you were just past two years as a paralegal. It was something you enjoyed, which is what mattered most too you. You had made friends with plenty of other paralegals, and even some of the hotshot lawyers. Many lawyers were just fans of Manchester though, part of you suspected they wanted a way to meet players from the team.

Your fingers interlaced with Romelu's as you both sat on a bench in a park, not far from where you were staying. It was a little early in the day, plus with it being only June most of the children were still in school. It made for a peaceful atmosphere as you rested your head on his shoulder.

"What would happen if Manchester didn't place you on their roster next season?" You asked him, out of the blue.

He sighed, "I'm not sure. I wouldn't want to report to another tea, but I might in order to look good for a trade."

"Trade? You till don't want to be in Liverpool? Even after how well you played in the playoffs?" You worried what would happen if he were traded far away.

"I have no idea. I've really been trying not to think about football, it's gotten so complicated," He leaned back on the bench.

You placed a kiss on his cheek, "I know. I'm sorry to stress you out by bringing this up."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "You don't have to be sorry. It is something important that we don't talk about enough." He paused for a moment. "What would you do if I was teared to somewhere in another country?"

"What do you mean?" You asked him.

"Would you follow me?" He looked at you, serious about his question.

"Romelu, I have my own life in Liverpool. I can't pack up in a moment's notice and follow you to God knows where." You explained.

For a moment neither of you talked. You could fell his chest rise and fall; you could sense he was upset by what you said.

"What did you expect Romelu? I have a career that I'm trying to make," you reasoned with him.

He sighed and moved his arm away. He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "I just hoped you might... I don't want to lose you, and I know how much we both shit on long-distance relationships. You're one person I can't lose in my life, not now, not when I'm still figuring out how to balance my time with you and my time towards football."

"Rome..." You started to speak before reaching for his arm closest to you. "I care about you too; I think we'll be okay. They didn't trade you last season; they probably can't find the deal they are looking for."

He leaned into your touch; his head turned to face you. "I love you Y/N."

"I love you too." You stood up in front of him. "Come on, let's walk aback to our room and watch an episode of Shameless." You pulled him to his feet.

He laughed and held your hand as the two of you made the short distance back to where you were staying. Making small talk about random things as you walked.

"You better not be ahead of me. I'll be mad if you're watching our show without me." He joked.

You joked with him, "I might have binged a season or 6." You lightly elbowed him as he unlocked the door and you both set down your things and slipped off your shoes. He threw himself onto the bed first, landing with a light thump. As he had jumped towards the bed, you watched his phone go across the room. Being a wonderful girlfriend, you were, you picked it up for him and brought it over. As you grabbed it the screen lit up and you noticed that there were three missed calls from José Mourinho.

"Hey, your phone was been on silent... You've got three missed calls from José," You handed the phone too him. Suddenly you were aware of the pit in your stomach.

Romelu sat up in the bed and unlocked his phone, immediately calling Mourinho back. You said on the edge of his side of the bed, looking towards him worried.

"Hell, it's Romelu Lukaku. I'm sorry I missed your earlier calls."

Romelu continued talking on the phone and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen to write something down.

As Romelu hung up the phone, you had begun to bite the inside of your cheek, a weird nervous tick you had developed. You prayed he had been traded to Liverpool, but the phone number wasn't familiar to you at all.

"Y/N. I've been traded to America."

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He didn't actually get traded to America!!!!!!! I just wanted to put America hah