Joaquin walked through the glass sliding doors of the lobby with his hand in his back pocket, putting his keys away, as his eyes scanned the room.
I got up as soon as I saw him and greeted him with a hug. He returned it but looked distracted.
"You okay?" I asked him, confused.
He snapped out of whatever he was thinking about and grinned, looking at me, "Of course I am! Pass me your bag, I'll carry it."
I gave him the duffel with no hesitation, it weighed a ton from the useless shit I bought with me to work everyday and I was not looking forward to carrying it.
He laughed as his hand lowered, not expecting it to be as heavy as it was, and we walked out the building side by side.
"Jesus Marchado, what have you got in here?" he asked me as we walked down the road to where I'm guessing he parked his car.
"Bricks," I joked as he rolled his eyes, pulling his keys out and unlocking his Audi.
He opened my door, placing the bag in the footwell before letting me get in and closing it after me. He waited as traffic drove past before giving up and legging it around the car to the driver's side, cars honking at him as he jumped in.
I laughed my head off as angry drivers drove past us with their heads out the window.
"You're so impatient!" I pushed him lightly as he started the car and he rolled his eyes.
"It's not that deep, don't get why they're so mad," he shrugged, unbothered and I laughed putting the radio on.
It automatically connected to my phone through bluetooth as I got lifts with him many times and was, of course, the best dj in the group. I played the first song on my playlist, Parado no Bailão. I skipped it straight away, not wanting to think of Neymar but the next song was Ai Se Eu Te Pego. I rolled my eyes, I was being pathetic, come on Amelia.
I played a different playlist and my favourite song of all time came on, Les by Childish Gambino. I sung along at the top of my lungs, stumbling on a few words due to my English not being the best, which earnt a few laughs from Correa. I gave him a dirty look and he laughed harder, holding one hand off the wheel in defeat before focusing back onto the road.
I turned the music down slightly as the song came to an end, "Where are we even going?"
"No clue," he smiled a dumb smile and I just laughed at him.
"We can go my place if you want. It's like less than ten minutes away," I suggested. He had been there before when I first got the flat with Ant, Messi and Di María.
"I know, I know. I remember where it is," he rolled his eyes at me jokingly.
"I'd laugh so hard if you end up getting lost now. I'm not gonna help you," I laughed and his eyes opened a bit wider.
"Nah, nah, nah! I was joking, I just meant I knew it was near!"
"Mhm," I laughed.
"No, Amelia, seriously. Is it left or right?" he panicked as we came up to the traffic lights.
I shrugged, laughing and he turned the radio off.
I looked at him with my mouth wide, "You did not!"
He raised an eyebrow, "I did. Now tell me where I'm going."
"Right," I rolled my eyes, turning the music back on as he turned the corner.
A few minutes passed and we were parked outside my block. I got out, excited and running to the main door, holding it open and gesturing for him to hurry up.
He laughed at my excitement, "This enthusiastic to let me in your house, huh?"
"Shut up, no. I'm in love with my flat. Like full blown, ten out of ten, would smash," I blabbered, clicking the button to call for the lift.
He looked at me weirdly.
"You wouldn't get it," I laughed and was interrupted by the ding of the elevator.
It was empty so we both stood inside and I clicked the number sixteen. There was a mirror on the back wall so I pulled my phone out.
"Turn around," I said to him. He did as told but didn't pull his eyes off his phone, "Correa!"
He finally looked up and realised I wanted to take a photo and started laughing before copying me and putting his thumb up. I took the photo just as the doors started to open and we walked over to my door.
He gave me my bag and I rummaged around for my keys, eventually finding them and unlocking the door.
"Welcome to my humble abode!" I laughed, holding my hands up as he lugged my duffel through the door way and gave me a look.
"Why are you acting as if I've never been here before?"
"Because I had like no furniture, now it's actually decorated and I'm in loveeeee!" I ran into the living room, flopping onto my white sofa that was situated in the middle of the room, opposite the TV.
He entered the room not long after, leaving my bag in the hallway. He picked up my feet so he could sit down and put them back on his lap. I threw him the remote and he opened YouTube.
"Do you wanna see something really sexy?" he asked me.
I burst out laughing, "But then I'd have to find a mirror and that's all the way in the bathroom!"
He shook his head, rolling his eyes, "No, idiot. Look."
He was playing the highlights of the Argentina games and we watched as the camera zoomed in on him.
"It's me!" he said excitedly.
"Nah! Really?" I asked in fake shock and he looked at me deadpan.
"This is why we aren't friends Marchado. So rude," he wiped a fake tear and continued to carry on flicking through different YouTube channels.
"No! We aren't friends? Whatever will I do? My life... it just isn't worth living. Joe, please! Please be my friend!" I clasped my hands together, holding them up so he could see them since I was still laying down.
He tried to keep a straight face as he looked at me but I was soon met with his white teeth as he grinned, letting out a laugh.
"Is there ever a moment where you're not sarcastic?"
"Of course there is!" I burst out laughing, "Nah, I'm done, I'm done. I'll be serious now."
"Oh because I believe that so much."
"Hey!" I lifted my foot and dropped it back on him as a poor attempt to hurt him. He laughed, placing the remote on the arm of the sofa and proceeding to poke my side, making me flinch and curl my body weirdly. "Ouch you bitch!"
That only caused him to laugh more as he poked my other side, causing me to flinch for a second time and slide off the sofa and onto the floor. He burst out laughing, tilting his head back and everything as I sat on the wooden floorboards giving him a look that could kill.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said once he had regained his breath and stopped laughing although I could tell he was holding back more.
"I hate you very much," I rolled my eyes playfully before finally getting up and sitting next to him on the sofa. "You know what that means though?"
"Oh no, what?"
"You've gotta sort food," I grinned and his face dropped.
"No because now I hate you so that means you have to sort food to make it up to me," he emphasised the word me and pointed to himself as I pulled a face.
"Erm no, nice try buddy."
He groaned, putting his head in his hands it was now my turn to laugh.
"Can I just order something?" he asked, looking at the kitchen with fear which just made me crack up even more.
"I don't care what you do, all I know is I've got nothing to do with it and I'm happy with that," I laughed as he gave me a look.
"You're on my hit list Marchado."
"Woah, like hit kill or hit smash?" I burst out laughing again and he looked at me unamused.
"You know that was not what I meant."
"Aw man, I'm heartbroken!"
"Shut up," he laughed.
"But Correa, you're the man of my dreams! Don't tell me to shut up, I'll cry!"
"Remember there's a third type of hit Marchado. Like a literal, back of the hand hit," he laughed and I gasped.
"You wouldn't!"
"No but I'll pretend like I would," he laughed more and I gave him my phone to pick a take away.
We spent the night watching films, eating and talking. He stayed in my spare bedroom which we retired to in the early hours of the morning, having stayed up speaking all night. It felt good to have a new friend. Obviously we were friends before but I felt a lot closer to him now. We played truth or dare without the dare, so basically just truth and I found out a lot about him that I wouldn't of known otherwise. He was a nice guy, but they all are at first.
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the cover thingy is Joaquin Correa for those who don't know him btw
also here's another just to bless ur eyes