Football / Soccer Imagines

Marc Bartra Imagine.

Marc Bartra Imagine-

{requested: fight in public but make up in the end}

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Another day, Another disappointment.

Well originally, Marc and I where supposed to go out but he postponed our date, so that's where the disappointment kicks in.

This was the third time he's lagged on our small dates, all for stupid reasons. 2 weeks ago, he was tired from training, which was understandable. Last week, he was out with his boys, kind of stupid but I understood. This week, he didn't even give me a reason, he just said "I don't feel like going out. Let's just go tomorrow."

Now here I was, sitting on the couch, watching Up. This movie was beyond cute but it just made my relationship expectations soar higher. I wanted to grow old and be as loved as Ellie was. I wanted my own little "Carl and Ellie" relationship but all I have was a "Marc Bartra: FC Barcelona player and Y/N: Nobody from Barcelona" relationship.

When I got to one of the many sad parts, I just turned it off and got up. Why should I be so sad over this? Maybe he truly is tired and he just doesn't want to go out. That doesn't mean that I shouldn't right? I grabbed my phone off the table and dialed my friend, Amira.

Hello?

Hey, do you wanna go out?

Where? And why didn't you just call Marc?

I don't know let's just go out and he's being stupid so no lol.

Um okay, sure.

Okay I'll be there in an hour. Bye.

I hung up and ran to my room. I ran into my closet and looked at all my clothes. I needed to know the weather to determine my outfit choice, so I ran back out and onto the balcony.

It was perfect, not to cold and not to hot. I went back into my closet and grabbed my clothes,Barcelona t-shirt, a cardigan, white capri's, and converse. I threw it on and applied minimal makeup. I curled my hair into beachy waves and added a thin headband for accessories purposes. I texted Amira and headed out.

I'm on my way. 😛

I walked the streets of my fairly quiet and calm neighborhood, my small cross body bag hitting my thigh. Of course I didn't live in the most prestige and amazing neighborhood in Barcelona but I wasn't ashamed of my house. I worked for everything I had and got it all in a span of 7 short (long) years.

When I got to Amira's house, which was only a few blocks away, I ran up to her front door. I knocked, adding a little rhythm to my knock and waited on her steps. She finally came out and we waited for the taxi that she had called.

"So why didn't you call Marc?" She asked as we sat on the curb.

"He's being a little douche. Get this, he cancelled again." I sighed.

"Don't you find that a little suspicious?" She questioned.

"I trust him..." I murmured.

Of course I worried about the worst case scenarios but I wasn't the type of person to constantly dread over them. I meant it when I said that I trusted him.

Silence fell upon us until the cab showed up.

We climbed in and told him to head to this antique store. I was super into vintage things so antique stores where my cup of tea. We got to the old shop and we right away scoped it out, looking for potential decor for my house.