Omg, it is the last part of the last chapter. I am honestly crying as we speak. I have actually been writing this chapter for a while because I wanted to make sure it was great. I had this in word and would open it every time I felt inspired to write. I didn't want it to end poorly, like my Ronaldo story. It was so much fun and I fell in love with my characters that I created. Belle resembled somewhat of me, her character at least. I loved the budding relationship I made her and Neymar have. I guess because that is how my fiancé and I started. We were really close friends but we always had some feelings for each other that we had to pull back. I've lost some inspiration for this story because my fiancé and I had a falling out and I never thought we would see each other again. After many nights praying for a solution, we are together again. Voila. Thank goodness. Sorry for my sob story guys..just want to show you what gives me my inspiration..and that is him. I feel so proud of this story, and I am glad you guys liked it as much as you do. I will, however, need to reread everything and edit some parts that probably might have confused you all. At the beginning, I wrote this story spontaneously. It wasn't until later that I started writing this on Word and planning it out carefully. I also have a difficult major in college that literally takes up all of my free time. If I don't have any homework, then I am studying. My current GPA is a 3.7 and I would like a 3.8 or 3.9 to be comfortable applying to medical school. I know some medical schools accept a 3.7 but I want to make sure I get accepted. You guys don't know how badly I want to be a doctor.
Anyway, this definitely won't be my last Neymar story. In fact, I have my story in progress Masquerade Of Hereos. Unfortunately, I have already received complaints on how it is not related to football. Honestly, I am getting tired of seeing stories about Neymar and other footballers that actually center on their careers. It's silly, I know. Usually, I see stories like this:
Girl moves to Barcelona. Gets a job working for the Barcelona club. Meets Neymar. Doesn't know if she will be able to handle him and his player ways. Drama. Drama. Drama with exs. Irrelevant drama.
I wrote a story like that, my Ronaldo one, and my Ramos one. I am not proud of it.
I hope you give my story a chance guys..
Okay! Enough of my blabbing!!! I love you guys! You made me love writing this story!
Xoxo
Jenn.
But I'm promisin' you better though
And your friends sayin', "let him go"
And we ain't gettin' any younger
I can give up now, but I can promise you forever though
-Wale
Belle stood on the porch to wait for Neymar in the gathering dusk. Although it was the porch of his own house, she felt she needed to wait for her own mind to function properly so she wouldn't sound like the babbling idiot that she knew she would. She knew he wasn't home, for his car wasn't in the driveway. After waiting with what seemed like hours, she spotted Neymar's Volvo XC60 pulling up into the driveway. He seemed to be preoccupied dancing, his music blasting, he didn't even see her standing on his porch. For a few more seconds, she stood on the porch and watched the darting points of living light flit over his yard in hues of pink, green, lavender, red, electric blue, orange, turquoise and a strange iridescent blue-black. He came to the gate in what seemed like a sprint and she turned her head on instinct to see if something was pursuing him. Nothing was, of course...well, other than his shadow. She half expected him to crash full tilt into his picket fence but he stopped himself short at the open gate.
She continued to watch. He seemed unaware of her presence. He stepped to the left and vaulted over the fence next to the gate...only to be instantly distracted by a firefly swarm. The brightly colored insects seemed to congregate around him, perhaps attracted to the bright blonde color of his Mohawk, or perhaps it was just Neymar himself and his personality seeming to draw them in. Several settled down to perch on his upheld hands. Belle, strangely, felt jealous. Many people could walk through a swarm of fireflies and catch them with one hand. Belle, on the other hand, seemed to propel them away and soon, they just started to avoid her, and she never knew why.
She cleared her throat to get his attention.
He spun on his heel at the small sound, agitating the firefly swarm into an absolute delirium of color that swirled around him once and was gone, dispersing elsewhere over the yard. He saw her then, so still and quiet on the porch. In a split second his jaunty demeanor was gone, his focus fixating on her so intently that a nervous little jolt prickled through her, like so much static electricity. He crossed the yard to join her on the porch, stopping to toss his training bag on the last step. One bright blue firefly was still roosting on his shoulder sleeve.
Ultimately, he hasn't yet to meet her eyes. He looked up from the firefly on his sleeve and met her gaze steadily, saying nothing. The insect's luminescent blue glow was reflected in his eyes. And that was it. It was then her pre-worded script collapsed and dissolved along with any thought as to how this was supposed to go or what she was supposed to say. She opened her mouth to speak anyway, and what came out of it what was not what she had planned for at all.
"I'm awake."
He raised a brow at her response, but his eyes still focusing intently on her. His deep brown eyes seem to speak so much for him being so completely silent.
"I heard you sat with me while I was asleep."
He blinked again and suddenly seemed more interested in watching the firefly cling precariously to his sleeve and watch it crawl from his shoulder to the tip of his thumb.
"I've been dreaming of you."
Neymar's response to this was very anti-climatic, all things considered. All he did was arch an eyebrow and turn about to face her fully with an expression showing mild surprise. He did not do a double take or even crack a smile for that matter. Neither did he cross the porch in three strides and try to sweep her into his arms as she thought he might.
"Well then," He said after a long pause, "good ones, I hope."
"Fantastic ones." A smile was bright on her face, but after a few seconds of watching his blank face, her smile dropped.
"No one told me you were awake. How long has it been?" He asked, looking remarkably untroubled by the conversation.
His tone didn't sound neither happy nor relieved of her presence or her well-being. In fact, he sounded pained to see her. Fear set in and unwanted thoughts swarmed in her mind like the damned fireflies that still seem to fly back and forth between her and Neymar.
"What if he met someone else?" She thought to herself.
"What if I am too late."
"I have been awake for about a month." She found herself biting her bottom lip, almost hard enough to make her bleed slightly. His expression, however, didn't change the slightest bit.
"And you were released when?"
"Two weeks ago."
His lips poked out slightly and his eyes narrowed. "I was not informed. But I had a feeling that I wouldn't." He laughed a laugh that didn't sound like his own. "I'm not really anyone's favorite person at the moment now, am I?"
"Are you angry with me?" She asked him, still standing still. The only thing on her moving was her skirt that was being blown by the small breeze that blew from time to time.
"How could I be angry with you?" He drew himself up to full height and put on a playfully defensive air, firefly still attached to fingertip. "Your parents hardly approved of me anyway."
"Neym-"
"Can I say something?"
She didn't speak, just simply nodded.
"I've been thinking of you, Isabelle."
The sound of him actually saying her full name and not her nicknames such as 'Littlefoot' or 'Belle' made goosebumps prickle down her skin.
"I've been thinking of you for a year. Three hundred and sixty-five days you were on my mind all day from when I open my eyes to when I close them." The firefly finally gave up his battle to hang onto his thumb and released itself. It flew in front of Neymar's face and flew in one place in between them. "I was thinking of how I could avoid everything. I wanted to run away from the situation. But dammit Belle, you were everywhere. I saw you EVERYWHERE!"
It was odd seeing him speak so intensely when his expression spoke otherwise.
"Every time I got in my car, I saw you in the passenger seat bloody and wounded. I couldn't live with it. I went to visit you because I felt that I had to, not that I wanted to."
"But Ney-"
He held his hand out in front of her, silencing her. "I am not finished."
"Belle, as a child, have you ever taken a walk in the woods? A real walk, exploration?"
She nodded, biting her lip once more.
"Well, the woods I traveled in contains a rather obscene number of unexplored paths that lead nowhere in particular. Some of them are safe, some are not. When I was a boy I made a point of investigating whatever paths I could find, much to my poor mother's woe and worry." His hands seemed to dance and it caused an eerie look due to the fact that his body was so still.
"I ended up at the end of one path and spent the rest of the day extracting thorns from places, "He looked away and cleared his throat before looking back at her. "Places that I would rather be left unmentioned. Another one of my explorations saw me being chased back up the path by an angry possessed looking dog and yet another path almost dumped me over a cliff and gave me the fear of my life. Nevertheless, I've no regrets on taking those paths, because they were scenic and a joy to explore. In short, they were completely worth the bad outcome."
Finally, he made his way closer to her.
"In fact, if I were to ever come across those paths again in my life, I would travel down them again. Even though I know how badly it might end up for me."
"But why?" Belle squeaked.
"The travel was worth it. Basically, throughout this whole speech, what I am trying to say that I thought you were worth it. I knew you would come with trouble, complications."
"But?"
"Too much complications."
And with that said, she was broken.
She didn't want to hear anymore, but she had come to say what she had to say to him, no matter the outcome. "Neymar," his name sounded hoarse coming from her mouth. "The card you left me."
"Was my goodbye."
"Why? Why Neymar? It was an accident." The lump grew and she was afraid that she might vomit up what she had for lunch all over his porch. "From what I am understanding, you don't want anything to do with me because the guilt is eating you up."
"I almost killed you Belle!" He looked down at his sneakers and she watched as his eyes scanned her from head to toe.
"But you didn't!" She retorted and walked closer to him. His breathing hitched and he pursed his lips, his eyes still narrowed. The way he looked at her reminded her of something someone would look at when repulsed. "Neymar," her voice came out a bit softer, "Neymar, you didn't. I am right here standing in front of you."
"I don't know if it might happen again, Belle."
In that moment of composure loss, that pleading instant of I don't know what to do anymore, she started to reach for him.
Belle seemed to wither and shrink where she stood before him, the look he was giving her, the way his eyes spoke to her, made her feel like air escaping a popped balloon. She opened her mouth to speak and said nothing at all, all confidence lost and gone.
"You really do not want anything to do with me anymore?"
Neymar did not say anything or make any move to avoid that reach, because he suddenly seemed like he didn't have the heart or the will to refuse it. Belle did not know this, of course. She stopped herself in mid-reach and dropped her fidgeting hands, certain of rejection, and so the moment was lost.
A queer feeling stole over her and made her sway a little where she stood. If pressed to elaborate, she might have described it as similar to the slow burn beneath someone's sternum that a sip of a nice, good old drink in a bar would bring. The warm night air seemed to cool quickly and she wondered if she should have brought her jacket instead of leaving it on her bed at home.
Neymar saw this and pulled out a sweater he had brought with him to training due to the fact that it was a bit chilly in the morning, and held it out for her.
She hesitantly took it and put it on, hoping to inhale it in case it would be the last time that she would see him.
"You never answered my question."
His eyebrows rose and he looked at her questionably.
"You really do not want anything to do with me anymore?" She asked once again in a rougher tone than before.
He immediately looked down and stayed quiet for a while, and that was her answer. That was all she needed and all she needed to know. She mentally told herself to be strong and to not shed a tear in front of him, not matter how hard it was. She wanted to run to him for comfort, tell him that some boy broke her heart, just like she did before with her past beau's, but this time, the one she wanted to run for comfort was the very one she would be crying about.
Then she took a spacious step backward and walked passed him, giving her a fake smile to reassure him that she would be okay with or without him.
She had so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to curse, but nothing came out of her mouth except,
"As you wish."
She took slow steps towards the gate, waiting for him to plea for her to come back and they could be happily ever after. But after getting no response from him, her first tear fell. Without having any control, she spun on her heel to see him watching her.
"Do you want to know why I came?" Her voice came out as a quiver.
He shook his head slowly.
"I love you, Neymar." She stood helplessly, staring back at him. "I always have. I just didn't know it was love that I were actually feeling. Those dreams, "She dropped her head so that the tears would fall directly from her eyes down to the concrete and not stream down her face. She were sure, however, that her face and eyes were red and puffy. "Those dreams I had of you, damn Neymar, it was like I was getting a glimpse of my future if I left my words unsaid."
His eyes grew wide for a split moment, but he composed himself shortly afterwards.
"I just hope I can stop having these dreams now." Her voice now whimpering, "Because now it will feel more like a torture than it is a blessing."
Neymar opened his mouth to speak but she instantly silenced him by looking at him straight in the eye and shook her head.
"You're a good man that any woman would be lucky to have. If I've any regret, it's that I once thought of you as anything less than that."
With that, she spun on her heels without looking back on him and quickly left. She couldn't bear to look at him any longer. This pain, the pain she once felt in her dreams of him was slowly becoming a reality. She almost wish she were in a coma just so they could sedate her and she wouldn't have to feel this pain any longer. The pain of heartbreak. Real heartbreak, was awful. Especially if the one who broke your heart was the one you once called your best friend.
Minutes later on her commute home, she felt a slight pull on her shirt. Fear set in and she prepared her pepper spray in case it was someone who wanted to be frisky with her. She turned around and pointed her spray to the man and immediately put it down.
"Neymar." She whispered.
He looked at her awkwardly and stepped close to her. "I was afraid." His voice shaking. "I was afraid of losing you again, or the thought of losing you at least."
He placed his hands on her forearms and squeezed them gently. "The thought of seeing the woman you love dearly," He looked down away from her, and if it weren't for the street lights, she wouldn't be able to tell that he was indeed blushing.
She removed his hands from her forearms and placed both of her hands on his face, pressing them hard and pushing his head so he had to look at her. "I am here."
"Belle, what if you aren't. What if something happens to you again? I couldn't bear to handle you getting hurt because of my careless decisions. Dammit, Belle. I felt fully at fault for this. I shouldn't even bring you to the party. I shouldn't even have gone. God, I am so dumb. I should of-"
To silence him, she stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his. His lips felt like how they felt in the dream. Magic. Everything about him was magic to her. Simply wonderful.
They pulled apart and his eyes danced with happiness. "I am not going anywhere."
"Neither am I."
I'll put an epilogue up tomorrow guys. Don't worry!