Tell Me It's Not Over
Title: One Day, I'll Promise You the Blossoms
Pairing: Daniel Agger/Fernando Torres
Rating: PG
Warning: Mild swearing and a bit of angst
Disclaimer: This is a personal work of fiction and I am not claiming any of this to be true. No disrespect against any of the parties is intended.
Summary: 'My self-destructicism is my only fight, and I don't play to win.'
Note: The summary line is a quote from Big Japan's song 'Complex'.
"Where are you?"
"I dare say that's none of your bloody business."
"Oh, don't you pull that on me now! I want to know where the hell you are!"
Fernando hangs up.
"Oh, fuck it!" spats Daniel and kicks the nearest thing he can reach which happens to be the coffee table. Glasses fall over and dark fluid covers the new carpet but Daniel does not care.
He's watching TV in the living room when he hears the front door open and close faintly, then hurried footsteps along the corridor.
He gets up slowly, trying to convince himself that this does not matter, when, in fact, nothing does, but when entering the bedroom he realizes what Fernando is about to do, his guts freeze nonetheless. Open wardrobes, clothes scattered everywhere, a sports bag on the bed almost completely filled.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Fernando does not respond. With his back turned on Daniel he rummages in a drawer until he finds the item he's been looking for. The sound of a zipper being closed and he is on his way out.
"Who are you fucking?" Daniel demands grabbing his wrist.
"Open a telephone book and pick a name," Fernando retorts and then he is gone.
Seeing Steven's number on the display makes him want to throw his mobile into the toilet bowl, just like in that stupid music video. He picks it up, though, because it is the captain, and staying on the team is more important than keeping up his hurt boyfriend attitude.
"What is going on with yeh, Daniel?"
'
Silence.
"Look, if yeh don't want to tell me, it's fine, but maybe yeh should go and tell Fernando, that might help to sort out that bloody mess yeh two have gotten yerself into."
How long he's been sitting in the same hunched position after hanging up he doesn't know. His stomach rumbles and it has gotten so dark that he can hardly see the outlines of the furniture, but he still does not move.
Time passes by, days that are soaked with indifference, often followed by nights drenched in alcohol, whether it is a sad celebration of finding the second apartment key in the postbox or a mechanical attempt to escape the useless reality. Distance during the training sessions is kept at a maximum, everyone knows, nobody asks. Maybe nobody cares. Does he?
One morning Daniel wakes up and does not hate the sun for shining. Training is good, he shoots the goal that makes his team win, there are pats on his back and friendly compliments, laughter escapes his lips before he can stop it.
He is the last one to leave the shower. Humming the melody of a Danish cartoon song he enters the locker rooms and is surprised to find someone still being in there. The tune breaks off immediately. Daniel looks at Fernando from under his wet fringe, droplets of water forming at the hair-ends now that he's stopped rubbing them with the towel. Many sentiments want to gain influence on the expression on Daniel's face, the winner is simple anticipation. He looks at him properly for the first time since many, many days, and the fact that Fernando doesn't avoid his regard makes his heart beat so much faster. Visibly torn between want and indecision Fernando gets up, takes a step forwards and opens his mouth to speak when the door is being opened and Steven steps in.
"We've got to go, Nando," he says after briefly surveying the scene.
There is a touch of impatience in his voice that makes Daniel frown and clench his fists but there's nothing he can do when Fernando follows Steven out, wordlessly.
When Daniel comes home that night, he doesn't drink. Neither does he kick any furniture or stay up until the middle of the night restraining his tired body from the much needed sleep.
He finally changes the bedclothes Fernando has last slept on, throws away Fernando's favourite cereal that he himself would never eat because he hates raisins, puts Fernando's set of towels into the laundry.
It's a calm, pleasant evening, he notices, when he steps outside into the garden. He has always neglected it, and right now the grass looks especially long and the bushes terribly overgrown. Right tomorrow morning he would check whether his lawnmower was still intact. Maybe he would even go to the floral shop down the street and pick a bunch of flowers he could plant. Just not something too fancy that would die immediately if you don't water it every four hours and change its position according to the sunset.
Something simple that he as a beginner could work with, but beautiful nonetheless. Something that might take its time for growing but in the end, after much care and commitment, would grace his garden with colorful blossoms on an evening like this.
_ _ _
Thank you for reading! Comments and concrit are very much appreciated. If you read the story and didn't like it, I still would like to know (why), so it might help me improve in the future.