Chapter Seven

~Cesc~

Aina had been staying over more frequently since Bailey was bringing back more guys, sometimes for threesomes. He didn’t want her in there, in case they tried to force her into anything.

She didn’t want to hear the girl screwing anything with legs, so she put up no argument when he offered her his guest room. She had moved her belongings into the room that his sister Carlota normally stayed in, and had made it her own. Often he wished there was no need for separate bedrooms, but they had just entered a relationship, and he didn’t want to rush her.

Her feelings were newer, whereas his went back for years.

He heard the door open as she returned from class, and seconds later she appeared carrying a box. An excited grin was on her face as she set her things down.

She ran into the kitchen and got scissors, and returned to open them.

Cesc watched as she pulled out a Barcelona jersey, a Messi one, followed by another Messi one. He arched a brow at her as she grinned in satisfaction. She then reached for the other box, and opened it. His eyes widened in surprise as his own Arsenal jersey was produced.

“You bought an Arsenal jersey?” he asked incredulously.

She grinned, “I did – but it’s not for me, so don’t get too excited. Can you get your teammates to sign it? It’s for James, that boy in the wheelchair.” He smiled, speechless.

She replaced the one Messi jersey into the box, “Do you have tape? I need to send this to Leo for him to sign…”

He nodded, amazed by how excited she was to do this for the little boy that she only met once. Jerseys, after all, weren’t cheap.

He handed her the packing tape, and she scribbled the Argentine’s address on the front. “Take me to the post office?” she asked. He nodded, pulling on his coat. She reached into the other box, and produced a hat. On it read Fàbregas over the Arsenal logo.

“I will, however, wear this,” she declared.

She then flounced toward the door, leaving him speechless. He managed to drag himself after her, and caught up. The post office was within walking distance, so they decided to forgo the car.
Cesc took the box from her arms, and put it under his left arm before grabbing her hand with his right.

He looked at her, awaiting her reaction. She beamed up at him, lacing their fingers, and swinging their joined arms happily, humming El Cant de Barça.

~Olivia~

How could it be so hard?

She knew what she wanted, or rather, who. All of the doubts that had existed in the first few months of knowing Gerard were vanishing.

But there was that nagging voice.

It was the biggest insecurity she had. Most of the time it was locked away, deep, only a passing thought. But it was a dreary day, and as she sat in her apartment alone, what was normally forgotten began to surface. And instead of pushing them back like normal, she allowed them to take root.

It stemmed to that one question, one she’d been asking herself for months: why her?

She wasn’t he most beautiful. He could have a supermodel on his arm like Iker Casillas, Xabi Alonso, Cristiano Ronaldo, or Carles Puyol.

She wasn’t feminine, and that what guys wanted.

Suddenly she felt confined. She needed space, air. Grabbing only her keys she exited her apartment, and ran down the stairs. She only stopped when she reached the small swing set outside the complex. She collapsed onto one of the swings, and gently rocked herself. She was out there for over an hour, fighting off tears.

“Liv! Are you alright?” She didn’t acknowledge Gerard’s call, keeping her gaze on her feet, absorbed in the onslaught of doubt.

It was why she avoided relationships.

They tore into the part of her she wanted to ignore – her self-doubt.

He crouched in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Liv, please talk to me…did something happen?” he pleaded, genuine worry tainting his voice.

“Yeah,” she said at last, a sob catching he voice, “you.”

“Me? Have I done something?” he pushed, desperation growing. The first raindrop fell, hitting Olivia’s cheek, making it appear as if she were crying. Then another fell, and another. Soon thick curtains of rain enveloped them, but neither moved.

“Why me?” she asked at last as thunder rolled in the distance, “What makes me special. I’m rude, manly, by no means a model…”

She looked away as real tears broke free.

“I just don’t understand…”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the thunder sounded again, closer than the last peel. Lightning flashed on the horizon, illuminating the complex in an intense flare.

“I don’t understand either,” he said softly, “but what I know is that the first time I saw you, my heart skipped a beat. I know that still happens when I see you. I know that when I don’t see you for a day, I feel lonely. I know that I could tell you anything, and trust you not to judge me. I know that you are the first woman who hasn’t tried to change me, tell me to grow up and act my age. I know that whenever you pout, I want to kiss you. I know that when you cry, I want to make it all better. When you’re nervous, I know I want to tell you everything is alright. I know that I want you. I know all of that.”

He fell silent. She finally turned to look at him. His blue eyes were boring into hers, smoldering even in the gloom. He looked more serious than she’d ever seen him.

Another sob escaped her.

“I know that you’ve turned me back into a teenager,” she began, half sobbing, half crying. She shook her wet hair out of her face. “I know that you’re a complete idiot, but I like you because of it, not in spite of it. I know that you’re way too tall, but it’s attractive. I know that you are a good person, it’s evident how you treat your family. I know that you care about my feelings. I know…”

She broke off, a sob making the last part incoherent.

He squeezed her hand encouragingly. “I know…I know that you’re worth it all.” He pulled her hand, and she numbly fell into his
embrace.

Time seemed to disappear as she sunk into his arms. A silent understanding seemed to pass between them. It wasn’t about the physical contact. It was the show of support.

“I’m willing to wait, Olivia, no matter how long. I’ll wait for you. Just promise me you’ll try,” he whispered into her ear at last. She clutched his jacket, taking a moment to collect her thoughts as the rain began to let up. As she pulled back to look him in the eye, her eye was caught. Above his head stretched a rainbow. All the colors were visible. She was captivated, breathless.

“Gerard…” she breathed out, “I really have no clue what I’m doing, but I don’t want to wait. Moments like these, connections like this, they can be so fleeting. I don’t want to waste a minute.”

As she spoke the rainbow faded, but the moment remained.