Falling. - Manuel Neuer fanfiction

Chapter Twenty Five - Out.

Arabella sat frozen to her seat, watching Cristiano looking back at her with the exact same emotion she's seen so many time before.
It was over, the world cup dream was shattered along with every Portugese Football heart out there.
Cristiano shook his head at her, tears brimming in his eyes. "It's okay," she mouthed. But Cristiano wouldn't have any of it and stormed to the locker room.
This was it, Arabella would have to pack her bags tonight. She would be back in Portugal by this time tomorrow.

---

"Congratulations," Arabella spoke weakly into the phone. Cristiano had locked himself in his room, leaving her to pack the suitcases on her own.

"I'm sorry," Mesüt replied. He was lying on the sofa, legs over the backrest. Bastian was sat on the love seat, drinking a celebrational beer, together with Thomas. Manuel, however, was behind the sofa Mesut was sitting on and listening closely to the conversation he and Arabella were having. Or at least he was trying to.
"Don't be sorry, you dweeb. Just win that cup!"
Mesut smiled, nodding to no one in particular. "I will, babe. Trust me."
Manuel smiled at this. Even though her team had just been sent home, she still wanted them to win. She wasn't even angry.
Mesut looked up at Manuel and grinned.
"What about you and Neuer then?"
Arabella sighed sadly.
"I guess that adventure ended as soon as it started, ay?"
This made Manuel freeze. He looked at Mesut with sadness written all over him.
"What? No! Why?"
"I have to look after Junior, Mesut. In Spain, for crying out loud." Arabella had put the wall back up that had protected her from emotional harm for all these years and Mesut sighed sadly.
"Well, do you want to talk to him? He's right here."
There was a long silence, and Mesut knew enough.
"Okay, well I love you, you know that, but I think that what you are doing is awfully heartless. You're not even trying, which I think is utterly stupid. You like him, he likes you, it's only as hard as you make it, Ara."
Manuel looked at his friend, shaking his head wildly. "Don't upset her!"
But it was too late, Arabella had hung up the phone. Mesut sighed and dropped his phone, letting his arm fall down limply.
"I'm sorry, man," he sighed.

---

Arabella had hung up the phone. She knew she shouldn't have been so dismissive about Manuel, but she knew it was better this way.
She knew it was better to prevent the hurt when she could instead of getting hurt eventually.

Arabella sighed and continued to fold clothes and place them in the suitcases. Tomorrow it will be as if she never met the German goalie, as if she never had that funny feeling inside her stomach whenever he as much as looked at her, as if she never had felt what it's like to slowly fall for someone.
Tomorrow she would be fine.