see you later // Pablo Gavi

Chapter 114

~ Author's Note ~

HE LOOKS SO DISGUSTED THERE.

I saw something the other day that said something like 'How come like every girl is pretty but there are hardly any guys that are handsome?' and I was like

f o r  r e a l

Not to be weird and deep and crap on you all but can someone please tell me how to stop existing and start living?

Guys life sucks but Gavi doesn't so that is why I'm updating.

censored swearing

Also freaking ember don't insult my love antoine </3

𝑯𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏.

𝐈 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇, 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘. Sira shuts up at this for a few seconds, before whispering in a teasing way, "So, why do you want to do this? Are you some Atletico fan?"

"No, never, I don't want to kiss Griezmann," I blurt, because of the (probably pretty disrespectful) Atletico fan stereotype you all know I have about their emotions towards the French World Cup winner.

She stares at me, wide eyes, saying, holding back laughter, "Whoa, Ember, you have a boyfriend. Don't tell me you have some stupid crush on freaking Antoi-" 

"No!" I say, then we both flinch and look towards the pitch nervously. I said that a little too loud, because of how exasperated I was about the conclusion she automatically jumped to. The weird conclusion she jumped to. Ew. Disgusting. He's the grossest footballer ever. Okay, never mind, there are some pretty gross ones. After a few seconds of us silently staring at the pitch, I whisper, "I just said that because I have a theory every Atletico fan is in love with him."

"Griezmann? What the heck, Ember?" she laughs softly. "That's such a weird thing to think. Where did you decide that must be so?"

"I don't know. Ask any Atleti fan about Griezmann and they'll start fantasizing about him, likely. Or something weird. Atleti fans are odd."

She giggles, saying, "You sure know a lot about Atleti fans. I bet if you asked an Atleti fan about Barca fans they'd talk about odd we are, too, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess," I shrug, but I personally think there's just something up with those Atleti fans.

Suddenly, both of us become rigid when we hear, looking down at the pitch, when we see Griezmann himself looking around at the seats, saying to Morata, who is standing next to him, holding his water bottle, in training clothes, "Alvaro, do you hear that?"

We're frozen, exchanging a look of fright as Morata, responds, "What'd you hear?" Now both of them are looking in our general direction, and I hope the shadow will be enough to cover us. We both, ever so slowly, sink lower and lower into our seats.

Then Koke asks, "Antoine...?"

"I could've sworn I heard some people talking up there. Sounded like women. Maybe just one. I don't know," Griezmann responds, his eyes still scanning the area we're in. Curse him. Curse Antoine Griezmann.

De Paul, though, gently slaps Griezmann's back, saying, "Don't worry about it. You're probably just imagining things. It's echoey in here without all the fans." Suddenly, I really like De Paul. Like, I now really respect him. And I silently thank him for making Antoine Griezmann doubt his (apparently) good hearing. "Let's start warming up before Simeone comes."

Griezmann nods to this with a shrug, believing his teammate's words, and the guys get to warming up.

After about a minute, I whisper to Sira, "God, what do we do?"

"I don't know," she teases with a playful grin, "but all of this is your fault for offering to do all this, when Atleti is our rival today anyway. I bet you're secretly a huge fan." She's obviously taking this whole situation much more lightly than I am. I'm super stressed, while she's cracking jokes.

"I am not. I swear it on Pablo Gavi's life. Now, I have an idea of how we get out of hear unnoticed. It's risky, but it's the only chance we have, before Griezmann looks over and up at us again with his eagle's hearing and X-ray vision."

"My God, Ember, just admit it that you're a fan of Griezmann. I bet you want to kiss him. Now, what's this plan of yours?"

My nose crinkles up at the idea of that, and I shake my head in disbelief. Obviously she knows my heart belongs to Pablo Gavi, and she's just teasing to to get under my skin, likely because I'm the one that pulled the two of us into this sticky situation. "So we crawl to the end of this aisle, okay? As soon as everyone down there gets busy, especially Griezmann, we make our run for it, to the door at the top of the staircase, and escape. Okay?"

"No, not okay! Someone is bound to see us! And you're asking me to crawl on the gross floor of this stadium?"

"Come on, it's not that gross. And if we're careful, we'll make it out just fine. No one will ever know we were here. Antoine Griezmann will think he's just going a bit crazy, is all, because of course he heard you laughing so loud!"

"Shut up!" she giggles again, and it's just the sweetest giggle ever. I love her laugh. One of the best I've heard I think.

We slip onto the floor then, because I convince her of my ridiculous plan, and I keep slapping her back gently to make her stop laughing so embarrassed. "Come on now," I whisper. "It's not like Ferran is ever gonna know."

Then, after what seems like eternity, we finally make it to the end of the aisle, and I whisper, "I'm gonna peak up to see what's going on down there just for a second."

"Be careful!"

"Uh-huh!" I sit on my knees to look over the back of the chairs. The Atletico boys are all doing their intense drills as pros, and Simeone and Morata are very engaged in a conversation, their backs to us. I quickly locate f***ing Griezmann to make sure he's preoccupied, because he's the one who heard us earlier. F***ing Griezmann with his blazing pink hair. It makes him really easy to locate. It's like he's shouting, Hi, everybody, I'm Antoine Griezmann, look at me! I'm really impressed with his wife, honestly, that she hasn't divorced him with that look.

Okay, maybe that was just a tad bit too mean.

He's preoccupied, and I duck back down, and on the count of three with my fingers, Sira and I leap up and make our mad dash to the door.

I hear someone call, "Hey, who's that?!" I push Sira forward so she doesn't stop, and glance back to see it's Saul Niguez who is pointing and calling us out. Curse Saul. We don't stop, and just run through the door, slamming it behind us.

We stand there panting for a few seconds, before breaking out laughing.