Dangerous Liaisons - CHAPTER 8/? *Suppressed*
Author: kitty69lover
Rating: R
Category: Drama
Characters: Various current and former Real Madrid and Barcelona football players. the protagonists to be revealed later, check out tags for each chapter.
Length: long story
Summary: she was a Madridista, he was a Cule. They struggled at first, only for their love to bloom. But when the secrets of her past resurface, will their passion save their relationship?
Disclaimer: all in my head, just my imagination. the photos i used for various characters and items are copyright of their authors. this fic contains product placement.
Authors Notes: inspired by Supertramp's Logical Song.
8. Suppressed
I arrived home and even the usually unperceptive David noticed my disheveled look. But I had no time nor the right state of mind for questions and answers. I was quite sick of them already, so I locked myself in my room, pretending to not have heard him talking to me.
I was breathing heavily, and not from the running. Don't imagine I had ran all the way home, just to a bus station. I could feel how my heavily built armour was about to give in. And why? All because this guy had caught me in a moment of weakness.
I had long thought that the ones that don't judge us, the ones that stand by us in our bad moments are the ones to trust, that a connection forms between us, strong and unbreakable. Even if I had been left to 'die' in the Center by my so called best friends, I still believed such connection that we had built in our drinking and messing around sessions had not been completely severed.
Because such was the power of trusting someone.
At the time, I had no-one to turn to, just like now, but I didn't have secrets, didn't live a completely fake life, under a false identity. Now, trusting someone was just as dangerous as announcing who I really was in the middle of the cafeteria during the busy lunch hour.
I simply couldn't afford it. And I felt that everything I had worked so hard to achieve since I got out was slipping through my fingers. Xavi's intrusion was something I didn't want, nor need. It was less a matter of exposing myself than it was a matter of growing to care for him.
Because, as experience had so bluntly taught me, there would be heartbreak. And I knew I didn't want that.
However, this got me wondering, had I fallen for him already? Why was I even considering potential heartbreak, if I had seen the guy 3 times and only got the chance to talk properly once? It was weird. It seemed that all those years of suppressing my feelings, my real self, had not really made me a cold hearted bitch.
It seemed it was quite the opposite and I was ready to fall for the first man that would show interest. I could not explain it very well, and it was really annoying. I didn't want to develop feelings for this guy.
I didn’t even know where the feeling was coming from. Nor why. It was a little bewildering, as I had never had strong, romantic feelings for anyone. Maybe that was the cause though. Maybe had I been older when I was chums with the fantastic yet backstabbing four, I would’ve fallen in love with one of them, but at the time, I was in too much pain and too fucked up to have time to analyze emotions.
Heck, I was trying to feel nothing, nothing but exhilaration and a sort of mind-numbing excitement.
But now, with this cute guy taking an interest in me, looking at me the way he did, my imagination had run amok, my heart had gone wild and I was faced with a feeling I didn’t want, need nor did I know what to do about.
The situation felt clear to me, as I showered for the night, I was falling for Xavi and there was little I could do about the actual feeling. However, if I had suppressed my real self for 7 years, faced with strong correctional measures and innovative brainwashing techniques, then I could manage to suppress this love, and keep it from bursting into something uncontrollable.
I was sure that, being a smart guy, he’d understand I wasn’t interested and wouldn’t look me up anymore. And in time, maybe the sensation of heart flurry would go away. I just hoped he would be decent about the refusal and not try to make it hard for me, as I actually felt comfortable in the job and I didn’t want to have to move.
The next day, I went to work, as if nothing had happened, only to be greeted by Liana, surprised to see me there.
“Yo, girl, what are you still doing here?” she asked, in mocking street style.
“I work here.” I explained, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Well, it was.
“You’re still coming to work after landing a top player?” she let out a whistle. “That’s either some serious work dedication and ethic or you’ve got severe idle hands issues.” She continued before I could intervene.
“I didn’t land any top players, Liana, what are you talking about?”
She looked perplexed at me. It was uncontested that they knew - somehow - that I had left with Xavi, so I knew I couldn’t deny it, but she shocked me when she began a rather feminist tirade.
“God, men!” she shouted. “What didn’t he like about you, girl? You’re perfect, the exact type footballers date. Gah, this is infuriating, especially that he never gave me the impression of a shallow guy, but well, seems that I was wrong….”
“Whoa, whoa, calm down! He didn’t refuse me, he’s a very nice guy and he was genuinely interested…” I had to cut in and explain.
I felt heat rise to my face, because I was defending him, calling him nice, which would mean that I would have to explain further.
“I don’t get it. I mean, you rejected him?” she peeled her eyes at me, in complete disbelief.
“Yeah.” I whispered, letting out a sigh.
We looked at each other and I knew she was about to burst and yell at me, when the other colleagues starter pouring in and I was saved, for the moment.
Throughout the day, I had people giving me evil looks, whispering behind my back and generally avoiding addressing me directly, not even during lunch. I felt like an outcast, but as long as they didn’t make me explain my reasons, it felt fine. I had no idea what I could invoke, what would be a good enough excuse for turning one of the Barça heroes down.
I knew I had to make one up soon, but for the moment, I was busy trying to ignore the feeling I tried to bury deep in my soul. It wasn’t as easy to achieve that as I thought it would be. The seven years of keeping myself bottled up had not been practice enough, it seemed, for suppressing something that craved to come out, something that had all the conditions to flourish.
I understood that it had worked so well at the Center because my very existence depended on it, on not revealing my true nature and not being subjected to the Dip or other means of correction. But now, when I was in a safe environment, when all I had to do was say yes once to have a great man by my side, it was harder, a lot harder.
There was no hardship I’d endure, if I let my feelings bloom. Only the paranoia in my head. But on the other hand, it was not only the potential heartbreak at the end of the rainbow that was shunning me, it was the whole false persona I had built and the more and more lies I would have to tell him.
He didn’t deserve it, and I knew I would get caught sooner or later, so why bother. I was more worried about why had this hit me so hard, why was my heart so rampant and rushing in? He was indeed one of the greatest guys in the football world, he was dashing and his eyes on me made me quiver, but had 3 times of seeing him been enough to lead to true feelings?
I didn’t know and there was no-one to talk to. Everyone at work would never understand, they’d find it even more peculiar that I had rejected him. And David at home would probably not even grasp the concept of love.
I had to figure out on my own why was this happening, and especially why so fast while also managing to keep myself busy and try to forget it was happening. I knew that submerging into brute work, into numbing activities would help, so I asked Sr. Ferran if I could take care of Cabinet 2 Memorabilia, to which he agreed.
So, this was how I began to work overtime, ready to mop every inch of the gigantic stadium, only to keep my heart from buzzing and my brain from over-thinking.
Rating: R
Category: Drama
Characters: Various current and former Real Madrid and Barcelona football players. the protagonists to be revealed later, check out tags for each chapter.
Length: long story
Summary: she was a Madridista, he was a Cule. They struggled at first, only for their love to bloom. But when the secrets of her past resurface, will their passion save their relationship?
Disclaimer: all in my head, just my imagination. the photos i used for various characters and items are copyright of their authors. this fic contains product placement.
Authors Notes: inspired by Supertramp's Logical Song.
8. Suppressed
I arrived home and even the usually unperceptive David noticed my disheveled look. But I had no time nor the right state of mind for questions and answers. I was quite sick of them already, so I locked myself in my room, pretending to not have heard him talking to me.
I was breathing heavily, and not from the running. Don't imagine I had ran all the way home, just to a bus station. I could feel how my heavily built armour was about to give in. And why? All because this guy had caught me in a moment of weakness.
I had long thought that the ones that don't judge us, the ones that stand by us in our bad moments are the ones to trust, that a connection forms between us, strong and unbreakable. Even if I had been left to 'die' in the Center by my so called best friends, I still believed such connection that we had built in our drinking and messing around sessions had not been completely severed.
Because such was the power of trusting someone.
At the time, I had no-one to turn to, just like now, but I didn't have secrets, didn't live a completely fake life, under a false identity. Now, trusting someone was just as dangerous as announcing who I really was in the middle of the cafeteria during the busy lunch hour.
I simply couldn't afford it. And I felt that everything I had worked so hard to achieve since I got out was slipping through my fingers. Xavi's intrusion was something I didn't want, nor need. It was less a matter of exposing myself than it was a matter of growing to care for him.
Because, as experience had so bluntly taught me, there would be heartbreak. And I knew I didn't want that.
However, this got me wondering, had I fallen for him already? Why was I even considering potential heartbreak, if I had seen the guy 3 times and only got the chance to talk properly once? It was weird. It seemed that all those years of suppressing my feelings, my real self, had not really made me a cold hearted bitch.
It seemed it was quite the opposite and I was ready to fall for the first man that would show interest. I could not explain it very well, and it was really annoying. I didn't want to develop feelings for this guy.
I didn’t even know where the feeling was coming from. Nor why. It was a little bewildering, as I had never had strong, romantic feelings for anyone. Maybe that was the cause though. Maybe had I been older when I was chums with the fantastic yet backstabbing four, I would’ve fallen in love with one of them, but at the time, I was in too much pain and too fucked up to have time to analyze emotions.
Heck, I was trying to feel nothing, nothing but exhilaration and a sort of mind-numbing excitement.
But now, with this cute guy taking an interest in me, looking at me the way he did, my imagination had run amok, my heart had gone wild and I was faced with a feeling I didn’t want, need nor did I know what to do about.
The situation felt clear to me, as I showered for the night, I was falling for Xavi and there was little I could do about the actual feeling. However, if I had suppressed my real self for 7 years, faced with strong correctional measures and innovative brainwashing techniques, then I could manage to suppress this love, and keep it from bursting into something uncontrollable.
I was sure that, being a smart guy, he’d understand I wasn’t interested and wouldn’t look me up anymore. And in time, maybe the sensation of heart flurry would go away. I just hoped he would be decent about the refusal and not try to make it hard for me, as I actually felt comfortable in the job and I didn’t want to have to move.
The next day, I went to work, as if nothing had happened, only to be greeted by Liana, surprised to see me there.
“Yo, girl, what are you still doing here?” she asked, in mocking street style.
“I work here.” I explained, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Well, it was.
“You’re still coming to work after landing a top player?” she let out a whistle. “That’s either some serious work dedication and ethic or you’ve got severe idle hands issues.” She continued before I could intervene.
“I didn’t land any top players, Liana, what are you talking about?”
She looked perplexed at me. It was uncontested that they knew - somehow - that I had left with Xavi, so I knew I couldn’t deny it, but she shocked me when she began a rather feminist tirade.
“God, men!” she shouted. “What didn’t he like about you, girl? You’re perfect, the exact type footballers date. Gah, this is infuriating, especially that he never gave me the impression of a shallow guy, but well, seems that I was wrong….”
“Whoa, whoa, calm down! He didn’t refuse me, he’s a very nice guy and he was genuinely interested…” I had to cut in and explain.
I felt heat rise to my face, because I was defending him, calling him nice, which would mean that I would have to explain further.
“I don’t get it. I mean, you rejected him?” she peeled her eyes at me, in complete disbelief.
“Yeah.” I whispered, letting out a sigh.
We looked at each other and I knew she was about to burst and yell at me, when the other colleagues starter pouring in and I was saved, for the moment.
Throughout the day, I had people giving me evil looks, whispering behind my back and generally avoiding addressing me directly, not even during lunch. I felt like an outcast, but as long as they didn’t make me explain my reasons, it felt fine. I had no idea what I could invoke, what would be a good enough excuse for turning one of the Barça heroes down.
I knew I had to make one up soon, but for the moment, I was busy trying to ignore the feeling I tried to bury deep in my soul. It wasn’t as easy to achieve that as I thought it would be. The seven years of keeping myself bottled up had not been practice enough, it seemed, for suppressing something that craved to come out, something that had all the conditions to flourish.
I understood that it had worked so well at the Center because my very existence depended on it, on not revealing my true nature and not being subjected to the Dip or other means of correction. But now, when I was in a safe environment, when all I had to do was say yes once to have a great man by my side, it was harder, a lot harder.
There was no hardship I’d endure, if I let my feelings bloom. Only the paranoia in my head. But on the other hand, it was not only the potential heartbreak at the end of the rainbow that was shunning me, it was the whole false persona I had built and the more and more lies I would have to tell him.
He didn’t deserve it, and I knew I would get caught sooner or later, so why bother. I was more worried about why had this hit me so hard, why was my heart so rampant and rushing in? He was indeed one of the greatest guys in the football world, he was dashing and his eyes on me made me quiver, but had 3 times of seeing him been enough to lead to true feelings?
I didn’t know and there was no-one to talk to. Everyone at work would never understand, they’d find it even more peculiar that I had rejected him. And David at home would probably not even grasp the concept of love.
I had to figure out on my own why was this happening, and especially why so fast while also managing to keep myself busy and try to forget it was happening. I knew that submerging into brute work, into numbing activities would help, so I asked Sr. Ferran if I could take care of Cabinet 2 Memorabilia, to which he agreed.
So, this was how I began to work overtime, ready to mop every inch of the gigantic stadium, only to keep my heart from buzzing and my brain from over-thinking.