fourteen.

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deceptive words

15/11/19

After her match against Moldova yesterday, Wynter was assured to take it easy during the squad's recovery sessions as France had managed to secure themselves a place in the Euros. Despite her swift pace on the pitch, she didn't contribute much to France's victory against Moldova. Well, she managed to assist Raphael's goal by taking a free-kick but other than that, Wynter didn't do much other than aimlessly sprint up and down the pitch only to never fall in line with the ball, leaving her with excess frustration with her average performance.

While many football fans didn't view it in such a way, Wynter took her performances to heart as she knew she was constantly being rated on her performance by football analysis and commentators. To her and many other players, a win shouldn't come by luck or due to a biased referee, she wants to win a game knowing she as an individual played well as well as effectively contribute herself to her teammates.

And with such being said, Wynter wanted to utilise the upcoming recovery session to somehow redeem herself from her mediocre performance in hopes that she will play better during France's match against Albania.

If she could even play.

The squad was split into smaller groups, each group conducting various exercises lined up to other groups. Walking into a training room alongside Kylian, Wynter found herself also grouped with Antoine, Presnel and Corentin.

"I actually hate these," she said, referring to the fitness tracker Kylian was trying to adjust on her.

"Why?" he asked from behind her.

"Because," she sighed, dragging out the word. "they show off my feminine areas."

He laughed at her comment. "They're not bad, to be honest." When he's finished his job, Kylian patted her shoulders.

A grin appeared on her face. "This is coming from the guy between us, but anyway," she pointed out as he pulled her up from her sitting position. "How is it going at PSG?"

He shrugged as they made their way towards the equipment they were instructed to use. "It's been alright I guess since we're at the top of the table but sometimes it can become repetitive aiming for the same title year after year."

"Come to Liverpool then," Wynter blurted out in suggestion. "I mean, we're not in need of your help but from time to time, you can perhaps be useful in some cases," she said only to complain after he gave her a light shove.

"Just in some cases?" Kylian rose an eyebrow in her direction.

"Though for real, where do you plan to go after your contract's up with PSG? I can't lie, I've heard your name in and around Melwood a few times but I'm not going to assume anything until I hear it from you." The pair of players were on the same plain field when it came down to transfer rumours, the media hashing out articles about them whenever they were given the slightest mention by themselves or another club's manager.

"I have time to make a decision so the club that I'm going to be transferred to next is still on my mind so yeah, I'm undecided at the moment. Though on another note, wouldn't it be weird if I did transfer to Liverpool? You know, the situation with you, me and Trent."

Wynter snorted, clapping her hands together. "I can imagine all the articles the media could makeup – Wynter Reyes now on the same team with former partner, Kylian Mbappé and current partner, Trent Alexander-Arnold. What could possibly go wrong?"

"We would never hear the end of it."

After the two french players released all their jokes out of their systems, they indulged themselves into the recovery sessions which was a mixture of cardio and strength training – running miles on the treadmill, utilising stationary bikes, free weights and weight machines, along with a bit of chatter here and there collectively amongst the players, the constant laughter in the room radiating a light atmosphere within the room.

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