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vidkid20ssimblrlair · 4 years

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Episode 29: No Bones About It (Part 2)

As I reached the bottom of the steps, I thought about Gemma. She was in the kitchen now tied up in a chair again. Thankfully we all came to an agreement on that being the best option for now. Regardless, it still wasn't a permanent solution and I certainly wasn't breathing a sigh of relief just yet. Tied up or not, she was still here. Still a threat. Also still creepy as fuck.

I peered into the kitchen and immediately saw her bushy red hair. She was seated and all tied up with rope as I expected. Wade stood on guard beside her just in case she managed to wiggle free. Nothing usual about that, but someone else was with her. I looked over her shoulder and there was Aaron kneeling down in front of her. He appeared to be stitching up her arm.

"Aaron?! What are you doing?" I gasped staring down at the doctor.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he murmured refusing to meet my eyes. "I'm...I'm stitching her up."

"Wade," I fumed. "Did you put him up to this?"

Wade scoffed. "No. Why would I?"

"I have my own mind, thank you. No one made me or put me up to it," the doctor shot back. "DJ asked me about Gemma's wound and I as a doctor decided to have a look at it. Good thing too since it needed a few stitches."

"Are you kidding me?! After what she did?"

"I'm a doctor. I took an oath and refusing to see her would go against everything I believe in."

"So fixing her arm is more important than you telling us about what happened earlier? Or did you take some bullshit oath for that too?"

"Don't be crass, Parker."

"She threatened you and her presence threatens our lives. If it was me, I would let her bleed out," I snapped eyeing Gemma as she stared up at me. I shook my head. "You’re either really stupid or a coward."

I stormed off feeling the heat of anger rise up to the surface. I exit out the door and sat down outside on the bench. I looked up at the night sky thinking back to just a few hours ago. Aaron could barely speak. He looked terrified and broken. Now he was stitching up her arm as if it was nothing.

I sat there for a while trying to make sense of that while having Lin's words echo through my brain. I then heard the door creep open and looked over to see Aaron. He came over and sat down beside me. He folded his arms and crossed his legs looking downcast.

"Parker. I didn't do it because I wanted to, but I had to. Besides, her wound wasn't life-threatening. It would have just got infected at the most and I doubt she would have let herself decline to that point. She knew what she was doing when she cut herself."

"Oh?"

"It’s quite obvious it was self-inflicted. Audrey wouldn't do that. She didn't. Gemma..."

"Aaron?"

He seemed overcome with emotion pausing for a second, but he continued. "I have a confession. I've been drinking way too much, but you know that I guess from my abhorrent behavior. What you don't know is I've been self-medicating. I've been using some of the medicine DJ brings back from supply runs. Pain pills. Sleeping pills. Anything to selfishly numb my own inner pain."

"God, Aaron. We needed those. Matthew and Lin especially. Why would you...," I sputtered. I calmed myself. "Aaron, why are you telling me this?"

"She threatened to expose me. She knew. You know it's weird, but I do feel like someone is watching us sometimes. She said as much at least."

I looked around out into the darkness wondering if that was true. The hairs stood on the back of my neck just thinking about it. "What else did she say?"

"She told me if I say anything about what happened, that she would kill me. Maybe let me turn and watch how many of you I could infect. She made it seem like it was something fun. Like a game or something. Then she said if she really wanted to, she could have us all dead in a second with a snap of a finger. All she would need to do is signal her group." he said trembling. "But she told me if I keep my mouth shut and be a 'good little coward', she might spare me. Even after she's done with you all."

"Holy crap, Aaron. Why didn't you tell us that before?"

"Because frankly, I'm a coward, Parker. She scares me. You don't know how she is. How she is truly. She acts sweet, but she's terrifying."

I smirked. "Well, I got a taste of that the first night she came here. I have sort of an idea."

"I should have just told you, but I was afraid. This whole us vs. them thing. I don't know if I can do it. I feel so powerless. So worthless."

"Nah, you're not worthless. I can't even say you're a coward really."

"But the pills and the drinking..."

"We..we all make mistakes. It's all in how we handle them and you telling me shows me you're not a coward. The fact that you're still here and not packing your bags shows me that."

"Where am I going?" he scoffed. "Pack my bags and go where? Surviving in an apocalypse isn't exactly my forte."

"No, but you have your own strengths, doctor."

"Like what?"

"Like saving our asses. Do you think we would have survived this long without a doctor on hand? I'm pretty sure we would have been in rough shape right now if it wasn't for you."

"I guess I've contributed in my own way. Gemma did say she might spare me at end of this because I was useful."

"Well, you're more than just useful to me. To us. Your our friend and hopefully will see the end of this because of you," I said smiling. "Hey, maybe you'll be one to find the cure."

"I doubt that Parker but thank you," he sighed. He sniffled. "So you're not mad at me?"

"No. I mean you messed up, but I'm not mad."

The doctor grinned and grabbed me into a hug. I froze as he seemed overtaken by emotion. He whimpered, "I...I don't know what I do without you. If something was to ever happen. If...if..."

"Nothing going happen. We're going be alright," I insured him pulling away, but I paused staring at him. He looked so small. So sad and fragile. I gave him earnest smile. "We're going get through this together."

"Together?"

"Yeah. You. Me. Everyone."

He laughed bitterly. "Of course. I should have known better. I'm a fool to think... nevermind."

"Aaron..."

"You're a womanizer and I'm just an idiot. You also have Lin. You've always fancied her. I don't even know why I'm talking about this. Then there's no way you're -"

"Aaron. Shut up please," I moaned. "First off, I'm not a womanizer. Secondly, me and Lin aren't together and we will never be together at this point. Thirdly, I'm not entirely sure what you're going on about. Am I missing something?"

"You really are dense, Parker. Nevermind."

"You like me? Is that it?" I asked catching him off guard. He stared back stunned. "I know. I've always known. I tried my best to ignore it, but not because I don't like you. Because I don't know how to really feel about that. I do care about you. I wouldn't rule it out."

He then looked over to his left looking strange and gasped. "Nathan!"

I placed my hand on his. "Aaron. A relationship like that is not a foreign concept to me. It's just it's not entirely something I'm used to or been open about, but life is too short to worry about those things. Especially now right?"

He said nothing. I finally noticed he seemed focused on something. Not me as I expected, but something in the darkness. I frowned. "Aaron. I'm pouring my heart out to you and opening up to you and you're-"

"I heard something!" he whispered. "I swear."

"Ok. Probably just a walker. I'll kill it in the morning," I said. I leaned in inches away from his face. "Now I'm willing to take this seriously. Only if -"

This time I lost focus. I stopped immediately as I saw someone run past. It was a blur, but it was something or someone. A walker? No, they weren't that fast. A deer? No. It had to be human. The height. The size. That shadow was human.

I stood up, grabbed my handgun from my back pocket, and turned to Aaron who was in panic mode again. "I'm going to take a look."

I headed out into the darkness and made my way towards the bus. The shadow seemed to run towards that direction. I stood by the bus looking around, but I saw no one. I scratched my head trying to figure out how something like that could just disappear. Then I heard someone scream from inside the house and I looked up spotting it. A skeleton? No. A man in a skeleton mask. On top of the bus. Right below Lin's window.

Before I could utter a cry, he jumped down barely missing me, and ran off towards the garden.

I ran after him and to my surprise, I heard Aaron following closely behind me breathing heavily. I wanted to tell him to stay back or go back in the house, but it was no time. I just hurried after the stranger ready to confront or tackle him if need be.

Then the man abruptly stopped in the middle of the garden. Despite almost colliding, we both stopped to stare at the man's back. It felt like a standoff. I moved forward. Finger on the trigger ready to shoot.

"Who are you?" I shouted. "You're trespassing."

The man turned around and the terrifying red-eyed skeleton mask stared blankly back at us. He folded his arms and cocked his head as if he was mocking me. Then without warning, he ran towards me full force.

It was all a blur after that. I remembered pulling the trigger, but the gun didn’t hit its target as I pictured it. No. Instead, I saw it go flying up in the air as he kicked out my hand, and then his other foot was the last thing I saw. I felt it smash into the side of my face and I found myself laying flat on my back on the ground disoriented. The wind knocked out of me. My face and hands throbbing. My brain trying to catch to what just happened. He had run, kicked the gun up in the air, and kicked the side of my head like a soccer ball apparently. I wasn’t sure if I was dealing with Bruce Lee himself, but I sure as hell didn’t expect that.

The skeletal masked man then ran past me and pushed the doctor out the way as he bolted out the garden. Aaron then came over to me after making sure the close was clear and peered down at me expressing concern.

“Are you alright?"

"Yeah just peachy," I mumbled. "What the fuck was that?!"

"I don't know, but it looked like something out of an action movie just now," he said sounding excitable. “It was sort of awesome! He did some cool karate move on you. You should have seen it!”

"Aaron."

"Yes."

“Just shut up and help me up please.”

Part 1

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#sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 story #ts3 story #sims 3 Dead on Arrival #ts3 dead on arrival #sims 3 doa #ts3 doa #sims 3 simblr #ts3 simblr #simblr #dead on arrival season 2 #doa season 2

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grell-writes-stuff · 4 years

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A Self Indulgent First Chapter

Enjoy...something

Words: 2,549

Genre: Young Adult / Paranormal

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Slam!

Gasp!

And then the apathetic yell of “Walk it off, Willow!” from Coach Martin. No stopping the game or running over to make sure I’m not deprived of air or dying or something. Just “Walk it off, Willow!”

I suffer for a second with the wind knocked out of my body. My inhaler finds its way from my pocket to my hand, and while I hold the one breath I force myself into and wait for my crap lungs to jump-start again, I contemplate the most-likely-illegal play that landed me flat on my back in the middle of the field. Quarterback Tom Styles’ outstretched elbow connecting with my neck at full speed in his chase for the checkered ball and high school sports glory, clearly confusing his claim-to-fame varsity moves with a pickup game of soccer since I doubt he has the brain cells to remember the rules to two sports at once. And probably a little bit on purpose. Because he’s a dick.

My chest wheezes a little, but at least it’s something, and the weak inhales finally start to catch as a sun-freckled face appears above me and blocks out the light. Ivy offers me her hand.

“Did th-that look a-as bad as it f-felt?” I sputter.

Ivy tilts her head from side-to-side like it’s the scale measuring how uncool I am. “Worse. Very pathetic. You will die alone.” She yanks me to my feet and acts like a support in spite of the height difference.

“P-Please stop making m-me take gym with y-you.”

“Nah. It’s too funny.” She ignores my scowl. “Come on. Let’s get you some water and wait for those shitty lungs to work again.”

She escorts me – hobbling like some eighty-year-old man with spine problems and not just what will soon be a terrible, ugly bruise – toward the bleachers, empty except for the water bottles of our classmates. I’m happy enough to sit on the sidelines, not just while recovering from having all of the air robbed from my chest, but for the rest of gym class, and also forever. Ivy is equally as happy, but only because it prompts the girls’ teacher, Coach Caruthers, to scream in her booming voice:

“Hammond! Back on the field!”

Without missing a beat, Ivy responds, “In the event of moderate injury, students are allowed to have a friend or fellow student for mental, emotional, or physical support. It’s in the code of conduct.”

I don’t know if that’s actually something in our school’s rule book, but Ivy has read the whole thing cover-to-cover for the sole purpose of seeing how many provisions she can disregard without getting into trouble through malicious acts of over-compliance or sheer dumb luck. So, she’s either following the rules to the letter or lying about them. As I sit, I see that Caruthers does not look impressed when Ivy plops onto the bench next to me. The whole reason our gender-segregated phys. ed classes collaborate so often is because they’re full of athletes – and me, the outlier – so more often than not, it’s just an extra practice for the varsity players. Even though Ivy was born with the “good at physical stuff” gene, and talented enough to be a forward on our girls’ soccer team, she prefers to rely on the natural part of her ability and not the practice part to the vexation of literally everyone.

“Hammond!” Caruthers screams. “On the field, or off the team!”

Ivy squirts a stream of water into her mouth and quickly swallows before passing the bottle on to me. “Cool. Who’s replacing me?” she retorts.

I focus on downing some water and breathing evenly again and not on the vein beginning to pop out of Caruthers’ angry-red neck. She can’t say anything back because, well, Kinross High School isn’t huge. Pretty much everyone who can play sports is already playing sports, and as far as Ivy’s tendency to disrespect anyone of authority can go, she’s also crucial to securing victory over visiting teams. Caruthers just grits her teeth and returns to refereeing the game where Tom Styles has once again stolen the ball that got away from him, this time without incapacitating anybody since the one guy with asthma has left the field. (Asshole.) I watch as Abby Jefferson starts to gain on him, and Tom makes the choice to skillfully send the ball flying across the grass to the next open player, Drew Young, the only person in our gym class who does even less than I do.

That’s not for lack of talent either. I’ve seen Drew actually try on the rare occasion, and he could absolutely score a spot on a boys’ sports team. But most games, like today, he receives the pass and kicks the ball along to the next open player – it’s intercepted by one of the girls – and continues pacing the field leisurely. Coach Martin yells at him to get his head in the game, but Drew doesn’t bother. If the activity doesn’t involve selling the pens that he stole from the cheerleaders to the football team, the little weasel has no interest.

The game continues on.

Ivy reclines until her shoulders are touching the bench behind us, tilting her head back and staring at the sky. I have to wonder how comfortable it is.

“My dear Sid,” she theatrically addresses me. She likes to be dramatic sometimes. She thinks it’s funny. “I have a proposal for you.”

“I told you I’m not training a messenger pigeon with you. We only live three houses apart.”

“I’ll wear you down eventually, but no, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” She looks over at me without breaking her questionable position. “I know what we’re doing tonight. I’ve concocted a perfect plan, you see, for this most All-Hallowed of Eves.”

“You can say ‘Halloween’ like a normal person. It’s okay.”

“Let me bring you back in time,” she continues, ignoring me, “to the Kinross of yore. Just decades after its founding, the Salem Witch Trials came about and our town was no exception to the noose–”

“Salem is two hours away, Ivy,” I interrupt with the fact.

“Shut up. The Salem Witch Trials swept across the state of Massachusetts, migrated into Kinross, and thus the most famous trial of Kinross history was set in motion when one Ann Kelly was accused of being a creature of the occult!”

“Can I get the abridged version of this plan please?” I ask her. “Like, the part that takes place in this century?”

Finally fed up with my interjections, Ivy sighs exaggeratedly and rolls her eyes at me. “Blah, blah, blah, she was hanged, she’s buried in the historical section of Riverview, and we’re going there tonight during the witching hour to see” – she switches to her best spooky voice with elongated, trembling vowels – “her haunted grave.”

“Hard pass.”

That makes her sit upright again with a slouch to her posture. She’s wearing a fabricated pout. “Sid,” she whines.

“Ivy, I’m not sneaking out with you at three in the morning on Halloween to go see a ‘haunted grave.’” She opens her mouth, but I follow up with, “Our parents would kill us. Besides, what’s-her-name probably just angered a bunch of Puritans and got executed because of religious prejudice. That doesn’t mean she was a witch.”

“Well, of course. I think angering Puritans was a mandatory activity back then. But come on, Sid! The legend says she’s a witch, and it’s the perfect Halloween thing! I think we are obligated – if not encouraged by the spirit of Halloween herself – to go see a ghost witch.”

“Does the spirit of Halloween have a gender?”

Ivy pushes past that and waits to catch my eye dead-on. “Bet you a hundred bucks we actually see Ann Kelly’s phantom.”

My lips part to say no just a split second before I register the number. “Wait – a hundred?”

Something cocky has taken up her face, and she recites with inflated confidence, “Ten A-Hams. A Franklin. A thousand Roosevelts.”

“You know what? Fine. I’ll take your money,” I tell her. “You’re on.”

Her grin is smug as we fist-bump on it and close the deal, but I decide that I don’t care so much with the promise of an easy hundred dollars coming my way. Ivy ingests another stream of water, and swallows while her eyes quickly scan the grass to catch up with the game again. Suddenly, a yell flies from her mouth:

“Box him out, Julia! Come on!”

Then she’s up off the bleachers and jogging back out onto the field. As unwilling as Ivy is to make an effort and practice, she’s also equally as competitive, even if this is just a gym class where victory doesn’t really matter. I, on the other hand, take my time on the bench. Struggling to breathe isn’t my idea of fun. I need to stop letting Ivy manipulate me into taking phys. ed. If she keeps it up, she might kill me.

***

I can nearly be qualified as a mess by the time Ivy and I reach our lockers after final period, and she’s humming like she’s got live wires for veins despite just spending an hour burning off energy. Meanwhile, I’m still recovering from my last bout of airlessness after I returned to the field and ran for maybe ten minutes. And I feel gross. The benefit of having P.E. last period is that I don’t have to shower here and can wait until I get home or to Ivy’s. The con is the window of time in between. I usually try to keep the gap as short as possible, and therefore, my time at my locker brief. I think Ivy and I took enough time getting changed after gym to avoid most people – at least the non-athletes.

“Hi, Sidney! Hi, Ivy!”

A mixture of feelings suddenly rockets through me and don’t add up in the end. While my chest is beginning to slowly overclock, and the hallway seems a few degrees warmer and rising steadily, I’m ready to play dead as Naomi Park opens the locker right next to mine on the opposite side of Ivy’s. Her shoulder is a fraction of an inch from touching my arm which is probably too close when I’m still drenched in gym sweat. Ivy greets her politely with ease while my brain is trying to catch up with the mundane situation and not think about how she smells like some kind of flowery perfume and I smell like crap.

“Hey, Naomi,” leaves my mouth and sounds too drawn-out and weirdly cheesy, so I just try to smile to make up for it. That feels awkward too, but she thankfully doesn’t seem to react to that, and her glossy pink lips tilt up without much effort into a perfect grin.

She puts some books on the shelf in her locker. “Any exciting Halloween plans?”

“Nope,” Ivy says immediately, likely because our actual idea involves a wager and might not be entirely legal – it’s a misdemeanor at the least. I just take the hint and don’t add anything to refute her answer.

“You? Any plans? For tonight – Halloween?” I wish that had come out differently. It could have at least sounded coherent.

“Nothing tonight,” Naomi responds. “But Heather’s having a ‘Belated Halloween Bash’ on Saturday while her parents are out of town so I’m ‘required’ to be there.”

“Oh, cool. That’s…cool.”

“I guess so. Heather’s parties get a little boring after a while though. I bet your plans for Saturday are much more fun.”

“Yep. Pints of ice cream, horror movies, and making bets on how long it takes Sid to hurl when the blood starts gushing,” Ivy interjects.

“Ivy.” I mutter the snap of her name so it doesn’t sound as harsh as I want it to. The temperature in the hallway rises astronomically.

Naomi giggles, which hurts. Well, it would if her laugh wasn’t so musical and twinkly. It’s like a damn harp quartet. “Sounds like a good time,” she comments. Her locker door shuts. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, totally – tomorrow. See ya’, Naomi!” She’s nearly out of earshot down the hall, and I wait until I know she definitely can’t hear anything before I say to Ivy without daring a look at her, with the heat of embarrassment and shame boiling me alive from the inside, “Please say nothing.”

I can hear the grin on her face when she speaks. “You realize she’s just another human being, right?”

“Are you kidding? She’s at the right hand of Heather Loch. She’s popular. I’m shocked she still knows my name.”

Ivy shuts her own locker with a characteristic slam. “Dude, you’re ridiculous. She likes you back. If you just talked to her, and told her that you like her, you would have a girlfriend.”

“Ivy, she thinks I’m a loser.”

“I think you’re a loser and I still like you sometimes.”

I roll my eyes and can’t say anything to that. I don’t care if Ivy thinks I’m lame. It’s not the same. We’ve been together for as long as I can remember, so at this point, she’s locked into this friendship, no matter how easy it would be for her to hang out with the people at Kinross High who are actually popular and liked.

I close my locker and we start walking to the main exit of the building and eventually across the school’s student parking lot. Some groups linger, but most people seem to be dispersing and heading home for the day. Ivy and I walk straight through the lot as always, avoiding the cars pulling out.

I want to avoid the Styles’ Ford Everest – which is so bright red that it’s an assault on the eyes – but we have to walk past it and the clump of popular kids loitering next to it: blonde, perfect, popular Heather Loch, Asshole Quarterback Tom and his not-as-terrible twin, Ed, and my locker neighbour and secret crush, Naomi. The girls are under the guys’ arms like they belong there, popular with popular. There’s usually not much interaction between our pair and their group because I’m pretty sure most of the popular kids either don’t know who I am or just hate me for no reason, but today Tom decides to rub in his full-contact plays on the soccer field.

“Nice moves out there, Pussy Willow!” he shouts clear across the lot. It makes me feel the bruise on my back, still fresh, but I’m past the point of being mad about it. Really, Tom’s just an annoying jerk, and that’s all he’ll ever be.

I try to tap into Ivy-like sarcasm and passiveness. “I get it. Because my last name is Willow, and you’re insulting me. That’s really funny. It’s original.”

He yells something back that includes one of Ivy’s favourite swear words, but we disregard it and turn out of the parking lot in the direction of our houses. Ivy states that we’re going to my place because, in her mind, it’s easier to sneak out of a single-parent household. I don’t try to refute it because arguing with Ivy when she has her mind made up is like talking to a brick wall.

#writing #wip #untitled #my writing #my ocs #ya #young adult #writeblr

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girls-love-girls1200 · 6 years

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36. Rosé x Reader •Winning•

Fingers numb from the harsh January cold, you attempted to tie your bright yellow shoelaces, huffing as your extremities didn’t seem to be cooperating in the sub zero temperature.

A delicate chuckle from above distracted you from the impossible task, you smiled at your teammate, a red beanie on her head, the varsity jacket zipped up to her chin, cheeks bright red.

“Are you making fun of me Rosé?”

Her smile spread even wider after hearing your voice, she kneeled in front of you, chocolate eyes leveling with your own.

“Not at all Speedy, in fact I was actually planning on helping you.”

Her gloved hands patted your shaky ones out of the way before tying your laces in a swift motion, your heart thumping hard at the small distance between your faces.

“Y/SN should I get you a godamn babysitter while we’re at it?”

Coach’s incredibly loud voice made your bones tremble as you pulled away from Rosé and jumped to your feat in a millisecond.

“No Sir that will not be necessary!”

The older girl chuckled at your antiques as she moved to her center midfielder position, fixing the captain band on her arm, she winked at you with a soft smile that made your stomach twist.

The whistle blew and Rosé whizzed passed you as practice begun.

Your legs felt like bricks as you walked out into the empty parking lot, it was dark already, the only illumination coming from the busy street next to the field.

Putting one headphone in your ear and fixing the sports bag your brother had gotten you for your last birthday, you started the thirty minute walk home.

Your soul left your body as a strong hand suddenly grabbed your shoulder, a high pitched scream tumbling out of your mouth.

You turned around to be met with your captain’s familiar smirk,

“What the fuck is your problem Chaeyoung!?”

Her smile was wiped off her face as you roughly pushed her away, hands connecting with her chest,

“That was not fucking funny.”

Your voice came out shaky from the sudden fear induced adrenaline rush. This girl was trying to kill you,

“I’m sorry Y/N I didn’t think you would freak out so much, I’m an idiot, forgive me?”

Her sad puppy dog eyes felt like a stab wound to your chest and you had already forgiven her for scaring the living shit out of you.

“I just wanted to force you in my car and give you a ride home, I hate the thought of you walking alone around here in the dark.”

Your body tingled at her words and her mischievous smile as you let her grab your freezing hand, squeezing it in between hers, trying to warm you up.

“Let me take you home please Speedy.”

A small smile on her face, she pulled you closer, strong arms wrapping around you, her light fragrance filling your senses.

“Just this once Chipmunk.”

“So, are you nervous about tomorrow?”

The lifts home after practice had now become a routine, everytime you walked into practice and didn’t see the older girl joking around with the team a strange sadness bloomed in the pit of your stomach, you couldn’t deny the feelings that had slowly developed into a huge stinking crush.

“Yes, I mean there’s gonna be so many scouts in the crowd and the only chance I have to get out of this town is if they offer me a scholarship.”

Rosé’s stare kept switching between the road and your face, eyes falling to your lips, hands tightening around the steering wheel in a failed attempt to keep her racing heart at bay.

“Honestly Speedy, you’re the best forward our school has ever seen, you do things on the pitch that I can’t even describe.”

Her hand reached over the gearshift and gently grasped your thigh, “All you have to do is keep your grades up and I am sure the sponsors and scouts are gonna come knocking at your door.”

You felt your heart in your throat as she kept her hand in place, muscles tensing under her soft touch.

The street lights illuminated her delicate lineaments, her eyes twinkling,

“Thanks Chaeyoung, that means a lot to me.”

You mean a lot to me.

The moment lasted shorter than ever as the car came to a stop in front of your house.

You sat in silence a few seconds longer, not wanting to leave just yet.

“Are your parents coming to the game tomorrow?”

No.

“Yeah, I think so.”

She could tell you were lying, but Rosé had to remind herself she was just your team captain, not your girlfriend so it was really none of her business, yet she wanted to help you so bad.

She bit down on her tongue as you bid your goodbyes and left the car.

Her stare fixated on your form until you were behind the door of the big empty house, and as she drove off your fragrance remained in the speeding vehicle, thoughts of you filling her mind.

“Listen up team!”

The rowdy changing room quieted down as soon as coaches’ voice filled the space, you took a long sip out of your energy drink as your gaze fixated on the floor, unaware of another pair of eyes on your back.

“We’re drawing 1-1 girls, but I know we can do better than the shit your showing me out there.”

I could be playing so much better.

“I need you to forget about whatever is on your mind during the second half okay?

Be the team I know you can be and kick their damn asses!”

The warning whistle brought you out of your trance as you jumped to your feet, chucking the empty bottle to the other side of the room, adrenaline running through your veins.

Coach stopped you right before entering the field,

“Hey Y/N, show me what you got alright? I know I’m a little harsh on you but it’s because I know you can be pure excellence.”

His deep voice drilled into your head, honest eyes calming you down significantly, “I’m proud of you kiddo, now go score me a goal Champ.”

His strong hand patted your back a little to hard before roughly pushing you onto the field.

Oxygen flowed into your nose, down your windpipe, straight to your lungs before coming out again from your mouth.

That was the only thing you focused on as you ran across the mid field line, caressing the ball with your feet, your eyes seeing a pattern form in front of you.

Lifting your head you made a swift pass to your dear captain before sprinting even faster towards the penalty area, Rosé understood perfectly as she sent the ball flying towards you.

It was a perfect pass, although your chances were looking pretty bad due to the two well built girls running towards you at full speed.

Breathe.

You lifted your head as you were inches away from one of the girls, faking a left you managed to tap the ball between her legs, sprinting past her you recovered it and smoothly dribbled past the second girl.

With the perfect opening you shot the ball straight into the left top corner, the goalie didn’t even have a chance as it soared to the back of the net.

Your eyes widened at the sight, joy overtaking your senses, but something felt out of place as a strong stinging feeling spread through your ankle, you were swept off your feet, the night sky being the only thing you saw as your back hit the ground at full force, oxygen leaving your lungs harshly.

Your ears were ringing, all you could hear were screams, your ankle was burning like the deepest pit in hell, you shut your eyes tight trying to control your breathing.

Rosé had witnessed the whole thing, the ball was already in the net when the second mountain you had dribbled past came sliding directly towards your ankle, a smirk on her face when she got up on her feet perfectly fine while you were on the ground, not moving.

Rage flowed through her veins, ready to knock the stupid girl to the ground but another teammate beat her to it shoving her in the chest with force.

The crowd was going insane, the referee struggled to keep the girls from beating each other up as more kept joining in the mess.

Rosé snapped out of it as she saw the emergency services running onto the field, coach was already by your side, panic in his eyes.

In a second she was kneeling next to you, her hands holding yours tightly,

“Hey, hey I’m here Y/N, open your eyes hun please.”

Rosé eyes filled with tears as a strangled sob left your mouth,

“I can’t breathe, I can’t...”

Her hands didn’t leave yours as you were being lifted onto the gourney, “You’re going to be okay Speedy, I promise.”

Her voice came out shaky, she couldn’t take in your current state,

“I... I have to, to finish...”

Coach showed up in your line of view, worry etched on his face, “The only thing you have to do is get to the damn hospital Y/N, we’ll finish this game up and come by straight after it.”

He grabbed Rosé, separating her from you as you got carried away, her eyes fixed on you until you were out of sight.

The fighting had died down after the girl that caused this mess was sent off and a few yellow cards were given.

She rested her hands on her knees, head dipping as she tried to calm her breathing.

You were gonna be okay.

The whistle blew and the game started from where it left off with a worried Rosé leading her team.

“It’s not broken is it?”

Your feet dangling off the hospital bed, you stared at your doctor with hopeful eyes.

“No Y/N it’s not broken, just try not to put too much wait on it for the next three to four weeks.”

His stern voice reminded of your dad, who still had to show up to sign you out.

“So that means no soccer?”

A small smile broke out on his face, “That means no soccer for three weeks.”

A light knock interrupted your conversation, the older man opening the door to reveal a disheveled looking Rosé on the other side, a huge smile spread on your lips as you saw her.

“Chipmunk, did we win?”

Something seemed to click inside of Rosé’s chest as she saw you there, sitting on the clean bed, a huge smile on your lips and a bandaged ankle.

She marched towards you, not even giving you time to react as her soft lips pressed against yours, the surprise soon being replaced by this warm feeling in your belly as you moved your lips against hers.

You both pulled away, with short breath, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed. “We won Speedy, we won.”

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