C O D E W O R D | neymar jr

XX

"Maybe..." We shared a kiss, "Have a safe flight," He grinned as I left to go to French training, knowing I was already late for my taxi as I rushed out the door. 

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I entered the pitch, nothing but the sound of balls being kicked throughout the field and teams celebrating as they scored goals. I got out my phone to take a photo to promote the team, wearing a jersey with the sponsor across my chest. 

Today was the day of work as we approached the quarter-finals, interviews, teambuilding, photoshoots would be vital the next few days if France won, and a secret part of me was hoping they wouldn't.

As I added a caption to the Instagram story, I felt a ball land at my feet accompanying Kylian who screamed for me to pass it back. Anxiously, I hit the ball, sending it spiralling to the left as I failed to kick it in my heels.

"No one taught you how to kick a ball?" He shouted from halfway across the pitch, I stuck out my tongue and began to walk towards the bench, before feeling another ball land at my feet. Except this time I ignored it, not wanting to be ridiculed once again for my inability to play football.

A large figure stopped my tracks as Kylian passed a ball back into my feet, "I'm not playing this game with you Kylian," I stated, attempting to walk past him yet being stopped.

"Oh come on, you'll be able to impress your little boyfriend," He mocked, dribbling the ball around me, I scoffed at his insult. Placing myself in the seat set out for me, "Don't be difficult."

"I'm not being difficult, I'm just not a footballer." I stated, attempting to ignore him as he began to do some tricks to impress me. "Not sure how my management would feel about me getting that bulky," I snapped back as he finally left me alone.

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After around half an hour, Kylian came back phone in hand. Looking up at him questionably, he handed me his phone and I heard Diane on the other side of the line, "Your boyfriend wants me to tell you that your management insists that you let Kylian teach you football." A toothy grin eluded from his face as he stood there.

"Firstly, he's not my boyfriend and secondly, I refuse." 

"Anastasia, just kick around the stupid ball. I have clients to get too and right now one of your many football boyfriends is disrupting my work." She snapped back, I scoffed before getting up.

"I hate you." I whined before hanging up, resting my head in my hands as I walked into the pitch. Kylian ran around excitedly, passing the ball to me resulting in me pathetically passing it back, he erupted into laughter.

"Take off your shoes," he said as I walked around in stilettos, "You cannot score a goal in those shoes," I rolled my eyes before placing the ball on the grass and barley kicking it in the goal. "That does not prove my point,"

"Are you sure? I kicked a ball in the goal and I'm wearing heels. I think it counts," I mimicked, as he rolled his eyes as he went to grab the ball. Disappointed at my attempt at a goal. 

"Considering your whole thing is footballers, you should be able to kick a ball," He antagonised, violently kicking a ball in the goal, watching as it swept past the goalkeeper. I frowned at his suggestion.

"My thing isn't footballers, I've dated other guys that haven't been footballers." I challenged him, as I threw my expensive heels to the side of the pitch. I clutched the ball between my feet and gave a weak kick into the goal.

"Don't tell me you've been cheating on me," He dramatically gasped, showing me which part of the foot to shoot with as he effortlessly kicked a ball into the goal. I ignored his jokes and attempted to take his advice. "Are you and Neymar really a thing?"

And suddenly, the pitch fell silent with awkwardness, the tension in the air thick enough to hold. I pursed my lips at his question, trying to avoid awkward eye contact and even more trying to avoid the question, knowing I didn't have an answer.

"If you don't give me an answer I'll take it as a no,"

"We are a thing..." I sheepishly announced, biting my lip as I said that because even I knew that we hadn't confirmed anything. Kylian made a pained expression before walking off the pitch. Leaving me, barefooted, with the rest of the French team. 

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