one - suffocating

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ISCO WALKED INTO THE living room where his best friend, Álvaro was- who had been there for the past hour now- with a blank face, looking down at a small frame that he held in his hand. Isco took a seat next to Álvaro, and moved his head to peek over to see what Álvaro was looking at.

"Álvaro, buddy. You have to stop doing this to yourself. You will never get over her, if all you do is look at pictures of her all day," Isco said.

Álvaro shook his head. "I can't. You don't even understand how hard it is to try," he sighed, not taking his eyes off of the picture frame.

The frame he was staring at for the past thirty minutes was a picture of him and Viviana, of course. It was of them after the Champions League final versus Atletico Madrid. They were smiling at each other, with so much love and happiness written on their faces.

"Congratulations, mi campeón," she whispered in his ear as she stood behind him, standing on her toes- and even on her toes she couldn't even reach his face.

It only took him a few seconds to realize who's voice it was. Even over the loud music that blasted throughout the stadium, he could only focus the angelic voice that belong to his Viviana. He turned to face her and pulled her up into a tight hug, and repeatedly placed short but sweet kisses her to lips.

"Thank you, hermosa," he smiled, as he noticed that she wore his jersey. The royal-white colored fabric clung to her body, and nothing could make him more happy that he was at that moment.

He was a Champions League winner with the club that was closest to his heart, he was surrounded with his teammates (which were like his family), his parents and sister, and the girl who he had fallen in love with.

There was always a first time for everything, and he would remember this night as the first he became a Champions League winner and also the first time he told the three simple words that had meant so much to Viviana that night.

"I love you," he spoke truthfully, and even though anything heard in the stadium was barley audible, his words were clear.

Those simple three words made her smile, wider that she would ever smile in her entire life.

"I love you too, Álvaro."

He stared at his best friend, "I just... I miss her so much. It's been two horrible months without her," he croaked, feeling tears beginning to form.

Ever since Viviana had left, Álvaro had been a mess- and quite frankly, he still was. He felt that when he had her by his side, he was a more 'put-together' person, that he felt like a much better person or it was just that everything seemed to feel perfect when she was with him.

"Álvaro, look I understand-"

"Do you understand? Do you actually understand, Isco? Because you don't really. It doesn't hurt you like it's hurts me, does it?" Álvaro hissed, as he stared at him with raised eyebrows and a glare that could scare off any one.

The two Spaniards stayed in silence for a good few minutes, until Álvaro began to feel a mixture of guilt inside him for being so rude towards one the the few people that had stayed by his side. "I'm sorry Francisco. It's just I can't stand not having her with me anymore."

Álvaro shut his eyes tightly and bit his bottom lip. He kept back his tears, the tears that were threatening to spill. But all he wanted to prove- he wanted to show his best friend he was somewhat okay- but he wasn't okay.

Isco put his hand on Álvaro's shoulder. "It's alright, just don't be so hard on yourself, Álvi."

The taller Spaniard nodded, not even looking towards Isco. He just looked back down to his hands, the ones that tightly held the picture frame.

At one point, Álvaro wanted to take all the pictures of them down because, they seemed to haunt him. To constantly remind him that he didn't have that anymore. But he never did it, and he just couldn't. It would pain him too much to take down any of the pictures of them.

When Isco came to the realization that all his best friend needed right now was time alone, so he left. Álvaro really hadn't noticed that Isco had gone home- he was just too busy looking at the picture carefully placed into the beautiful shade of gold the frame was. What had seemed like a few minutes, were actually long, long hours.

It was near midnight, and Álvaro decided to get some sleep- not that he could but he tried too. He had a match tomorrow, but he didn't really care because he knew he wouldn't be playing. He'd be on the bench just like last week- and the week before that. Everyone noticed he hardly tried, he was forcing himself to play, and he was never concentrated and his passion had just seemed like it had died- he was playing horrible, everyone knew it and he knew it himself.

Like he would try to sleep; he lied in bed staring into darkness that was his bedroom- in the bed he once shared with her. He couldn't sleep at all knowing that Viviana wasn't lying right beside him.

Álvaro took a deep breath, his lungs felt heavy, it was hard for him to breathe normally. He grabbed his phone off of the nightstand, unlocked it and went into his photos- something he found himself doing for quite a while, every single night.

He scrolled through the various pictures of them, smiling at one every once in a while. But seeing her gorgeous smile in every damn picture made his heart flutter but also hurt at the same time. Her smile did so many things to him. The mixture of feeling love and pain was a strange one. Seeing her bright smile made his heart flutter, because he was so in love with her.

But after every night, after seeing her pictures, he felt his heart break even more after each time. His breathing always became unsteady- struggling to breathe correctly. Álvaro let out a frustrated cry, he would let out all the tears he had held in for so long today. And that was how most of his nights went.

His heart felt as if it was stepped on a million times and given back to him. As if it was practically ripped out, and his poor heart couldn't handle the pain. The pain of not having her anymore.

Álvaro felt that he was suffocating, or as if he was drowning and he was running out of oxygen.


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❝she was his oxygen, without her, he was suffocating.







- so this is going to be a short story, some chapters will be very short and some will
be a bit longer.

viviana | álvaro morataWhere stories live. Discover now