The doorbell to your brother's place rang, and you lifted your head from the textbook in front of you, waiting to hear Kylian's footsteps walk down the steps but nothing came.
"Ky?" You shouted but still, no response.
It wasn't until you took your headphones off completely that you heard the rush of water and concluded he must've not heard it.
Still, you groaned because you had to stop your rhythm of studying to answer the door at a place that's not even yours.
Originally, you resided in London, England because the university you got accepted to was based there but once in a while, you would visit your brother Kylian over the holidays. It just happened to be that you were in your final year of medical studies, and had to make use of even your holidays to study. But it also didn't stop you from not visiting France at all. I mean, how could you? It was almost, always, a free trip since your brother was so generous, paying for your airplane ticket, housing you - a life of luxury for a few weeks. Who would say no?
"I'm coming." Picking up your pace, you jogged to the front door and opened it, not expecting to see Neymar on the other side.
"Woah?" You breathed out in surprise as he equally shared your expression but then, it quickly changed to confusion.
"Is Kylian here?" He spoke in broken French, motioning to the door and slapping yourself, you invited the football star inside. Realising that he was probably more familiar with the house than you were.
"I'm sorry, he's in the bathroom. Would like me to call him?" You suggested. Neymar pondered but shook his head, "It's fine. He won't be long."
There was a few words missing in his vocabulary but you could understand that as someone's third, or even fourth language, it's hard at times. Considering he was in the Brazilian league, La Liga and now the Ligue 1 - it must've been difficult for him adapting to all these different languages and cultures in such a short-time.
"Would you like to come inside?" You pointed to the living room and he nodded, forgetting your books were sprawled out you quickly cleaned the space and he sat down.
"And your name is...?"
You clapped your hands, "How rude of me, I'm Y/N. Kylian's younger sister."
Neymar held out his hand and you reached out to shake it. But he had other plans in mind as he turned your hand around and placed a kiss on it. Looking up in his position, he smiled at you and you couldn't help smiling back, your cheeks reddening.
"I'm Neymar."
"Yeah, I know you are. Would you like anything, Neymar. Water? Coke? Energy drinks?" You were mumbling and had to stop yourself by smacking your lips together, Neymar laughed.
"I love the way you say my name. Say it again." He was still holding onto your hand and used that to pull you closer, closer to his height.
"Neymar, can I get you anything to drink?"
"Lovely..." He hummed, "...just a bottle of water if you can."
You subtly nodded your head, averting your eyes to stare at the couch because his hazel eyes was so intimidating. So focused and glaring, staring at your every movement is what you felt as you made your way to the kitchen.
Sticking your head in the freezer, you scolded yourself for responding to his flirtatious remarks and wanted your hot body to cool down. You didn't want Neymar to know about the effect that he was having on your body - not like this. So you walked out with a smile on your face, offering his bottle of water and drank some of your own.
"So, Miss Y/N..." He started, "...Why don't I see you around more often?" Curious, he smiled as he leaned his chin on the top of the bottle, waiting on your answer.
"Just Y/N is fine. I'm actually based in London, it's where I go to university, I just come here to visit Ky occasionally." You spoke a little fast so he asked you to repeat what you said, just at a slower pace.
"So if I told you I wanted to see you again, what would your answer be to that?" Oh, he is bold then, very bold.
"I don't know, Neymar. Do you have a girlfriend at the moment?" He let out a chuckle as he shook his head,
"I'm not seeing anyone, that's why I'm shooting my shot here." He got up and walked to where you were sitting, by the tables where all your books were.
The empty water bottle in hand but he was more occupied with your books, "Med— Medic— Medicine?" He leaned down, just next to you, to inspect your notes.
For what reason, you will never know, you doubt he even understands most of what it says - your handwriting is horrible enough as it is that you even struggle to understand it at times.
Neymar was so close to you that you could smell the perfume he had on - it smelled wonderful and you could feel his warm breaths grace the curves of your neck. "We will always need doctors in this world, a bonus if they're as pretty as you."
"Thank you." You whispered, not wanting to break the moment. "So about that date..."
"Oh? You want to go on a date with me." He chuckled lowly in your ear.
"But you said—" You protested at first but he cut you off,
"I said I wanted to see you again but I never mentioned anything about a date." He hummed inquisitively, turning his head to face yours.
Shit, he was right. He never did say anything about a date and now your cheeks— scratch that— your whole body is burning up again. "But if you insist, then I'll go on a date with you."
Finally, he straightened back up and your breathing had returned to normal, you didn't even realise you had stopped breathing in the process. Damn these men and their flirting - playing with your life like that.
Neymar opened one of your books and stole one of your pens, writing - what you assume - to be his phone number and drew a heart next to it. He winked at you before blowing you a kiss, "Call me or text me, I would love that date."
"Okay, Neymar. Let's go." Kylian's voice traveled in the room as he takes the stairs, two at a time, but halted in his tracks when he saw Neymar bent over, so close to you.
"Nope. Nope. A million times No." Kylian shakes his head as he hurries to where you and Neymar were, grabbing the latter by the back of his collar and dragging him out of his house.
"Not with my sister, nope. No, no, no, no." Your brother's tone became so serious but you didn't care because the number of a cute guy was written in your book.
Gosh, you felt like a teenager again.
*******
"Ky, what's wrong?" You asked your brother, who was glaring at the arm around your shoulders, more specifically at who that arm belongs to.
"You know what it is." He said side-eyeing your boyfriend, Neymar.
"It's been months already, Ky. Come on..." You moaned, kicking your brother lightly on his calves.
"Yeah, come on Ky. I could've made you an uncle already—"
Kylian stopped his movements and glared at Neymar now, "That's not funny, Ney."