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Yet another football event, presenting dignified people, the best of the best The walls cascaded with colourful bunting, the tables matched whatever theme they had chosen, and the place was decorated in each corner. A large glass window lay above us all, captivating everyone's initial attention.
The moon stood above us, timidly peeking in and slightly illuminating the already bright interior. The stars surrounded us, constellations retelling their stories above us all. However, the galaxies could not distract me from the true charm that stood in my eye's view.
Our bodies work in marvellous ways. My lungs explode and engulf my heart with blood that runs around my body, stroking the walls of my muscles and dancing along my bones, gently masquerading as it runs under my skin.
It applies enough pressure for my blood to reach my fingertips but not enough to burst into something important, working without command. However, at this moment, it feels like the autonomous function has stopped. My lungs weren't exhaling, my heart wasn't pumping, and my body wasn't functioning.
Neither was my brain, usually resilient like a soldier in a war, living through a cynical cycle, but it was resisting. Perhaps it knew that his agreeable face stood before me, his handsome features becoming the only thing my eyes could focus on.
Whilst I could not physically see his eyes, my brain ached for the idea they may meet; my heart only stopped for the elegance of his heart; my lungs were flooding as my brain fell into distraction.
However, as my body collapsed, I knew I would survive, for he is the blood of my being.
The blood of my being fell from his eyes to someone else, his new supposed girlfriend walking in alongside him, a deep feeling pouring through my gut as I tilted my head at them. Goodness, she was astonishing.
Her dark crimson hair fell along her back, and the dress she wore swam through the air as she walked through the venue. You could see her eyes from the other side of the room, a peacock blue, staring solely into his.
Vitorria Ferri
He held out the chair for her, and I too almost fell in love at the sight of her smile. I had already stalked her on any social network possible. She was a classy woman with Cuban and French roots, often taking trips across the world, yet her passion lay with aiding children. She was a volunteer for any charity available.
A gorgeous, charitable, and cultural woman, supposedly the woman of his dreams according to the articles, was a better option than the gold-digging whore who had landed herself with another one of his teammates.
I was instantly pulled from my trance as a kick struck me from under the table. "You've both moved on; be happy." He whispered, and I complied by taking a sip of whatever alcohol was available, diverting my eyes towards either him or the table.
Hours passed, the same tiresome pattern repeating as people were called onto the stage, and the alcohol I consumed increased by a substantial amount per minute. "I need to use the restroom; excuse me." I smiled as I lifted myself from my seat, only to feel a tug on my wrist.
"You go there and back; do not talk to anyone." He demanded, his eyes shooting bullets into my brain. Perhaps it was the fact that my eyes did not divert from Neymar and his date. Additionally, she had just left to use the bathroom minutes ago, and I obviously wanted to bump into her.
"Don't worry; in and out, I promise." And that day was a day where I hid my crossed fingers as I began to walk off, for all I wanted to do was find out about him.
I pushed the doors open, instantly hit by inexplicable stenches, yet there she was, even more, beautiful as she stood closer. We shared a smile as I rushed into a stall, only to be stopped by her voice. "Anastasia?"
I felt my stomach drop; she had probably seen the handful of extended stares that had landed on them both. Hesitantly, I turned and said, "Yes?"
"You're Neymar's ex? Am I right?" I nodded, and she huffed before she spoke again. "I--" She started to speak again, obviously interrupted by her thought process. "I started dating him recently, and I know you two kissed recently, four days ago, after your crash, and I was just wondering-"
She paused, her face completely red, as she mustered up the courage to say "Listen-" I attempted to speak, yet her voice boomed over mine.
"Is there anything I have to be worried about?"
I lifted my hand, and a large diamond sat on my ring finger. "I'm engaged; it was a mistake. We're exes; we kissed; it happens." Awkwardness filled the room as I looked at her worried face. "You two look perfect together; don't worry about me."
She hugged me before rushing to leave the room, my promise broken and her dignity tarnished. A great pair of ladies.
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I sipped on a cocktail, ignoring the dancing happening around me as my inebriated fiancee was probably throwing up in a bathroom stall while I sat alone at our table, my phone dying, and my heels stabbing my feet.
"You talked to my girlfriend!" A recognisable voice whispered as a large figure stumbled beside me. "My ex-girlfriend is talking to my new girlfriend! Sounds like a horror movie."
"I didn't say anything bad," I stated, taking a sip of the fruity drink that danced along my throat.
"I know, nothing to worry about. Are you sure there's nothing to worry about?"
"There isn't because there isn't; you're in a relationship, and I'm engaged," I stated, tasting the drinks he had on his breath. "I'm going to be a wife; I shouldn't be worrying about my ex-boyfriend; we aren't teenagers anymore."
He sat beside me, and I instantly began to scour for either of our partners, praying they wouldn't see us together. "Calm down; she went to the car to get some pumps, and your dreamboat is currently throwing up five tequila shots down the toilet." We sat in uneasy stillness until he continued his dialogue. "You can't honestly like him,"
"Why not?"
"He's a dick; he cheats on you every weekend; he worships himself; and he pays off every referee!" We shared a stale laugh as I rubbed the back of his neck, the silence interrupted by his flow of conversation. "Anna, please tell me you won't marry him."
"You do know what engaged means, right?" I teased, yet he didn't comply; his eyes were sad as he looked right through me. "I can't leave him."
"You left me." My lips tightened at his remark, and my pulse quickened as he got closer, his thumb caressing my cheek as he fell into a trance looking at me. A surge of memories ran through my brain upon encountering those eyes once more. The eyes that feel like home
"We left each other." I defended myself, avoiding eye contact as I knew I'd only fall into a trance again. His presence was a mixture of lust and love, capable of dismantling the promises I had kept. I took a deep breath, yet it was shaky like a leaf caught in an autumn breeze. "For a reason."
"A stupid reason." He scoffed, moving further back as I didn't reciprocate his advances, yet his eyes bore into me like hungry flames, devouring my dignity with each passing second. "I haven't stopped thinking about that kiss."
"I'm getting married."
"To the wrong person." He interjected, his voice coated with desperation. His words hung in the air as gravity felt heavier on my frame. The simple construction of our history tore me apart, threatening to unravel the life I had not so carefully constructed.
"I said yes to him, not you," I whispered, my voice only secreting in a frail breath, dissipating into the music that surrounded us. His expression seems disheartened by my words; his eyes are finally off me and staring at the floor.
"Do you still love me?" I felt everything I had done over the past six months dissolve into nothing at his words. How could he think I didn't love him when he's the only man I truly do love? Scars were developing, yet the wounds of our past were not truly healed.
"It's hard not to," I admitted, a slight laugh slipping off my tongue. The grand room seemed to shrink, leaving us alone as everyone else left my vision. Loud music couldn't destroy the immense vulnerability I felt or the sheer power of our romance. "I do love you, really."
"Then leave him." His words seemed simple, yet I couldn't, and silence filled our space again, a silence that spoke an answer as he inconspicuously wiped the tear that had fallen along his cheek. "Till we meet again."
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A/N: I am choosing to ignore the maths exam I have next week and write the most gut-wrenching paragraph I have ever written. Thank you all so much for waiting but exams have been on my ass.