Ficlet - White lies - Thierry Henry/Philippe Mexès
Title: White lies 
Author: tifosarossonera
Rating: PG
Pairing: Thierry Henry/Philippe Mexès
Feedback: Yes, please!
Disclaimer: All lies.
Summary: Philippe is about to make his debut for the National Team.
Archive: Beautiful Games, if accepted
Note: For chimera_negra and the fic challenge (requested word: silence). I am so so sorry that it took me ages to write it, love and that it didn't turn out better. O_o
When Philippe writhes nervously in bed, not being able to sleep, making enough noise to wake Thierry up, the striker tries to remember whether it had been for him like that too, back in 1997. Being called up by the national team for the first time, that's every footballer's dream. Thierry doesn't know if it's any different in other countries, but he knows that the French are very proud of their country, their nationality, just themselves.
Soon Philippe is to make his debut for the senior team, his heroes. It's only a European Cup qualifier. It's only Malta. It should not be too much too worry about, Thierry thinks himself. It should be a rather easy one, but then to Philippe it wouldn't be any different if it were just an unimportant friendly.
Thierry feels sorry for the young man, who's kept away from the precious sleep, that he needs so urgently. He would love to tell him that they will definitely win and that there is absolutely nothing to worry about. But that would be a lie. You always have to be careful, even if your opponent is believed to weak, that is something one should never be too certain about.
But as the young man keeps on writhing, sighing, moaning in frustration, Thierry thinks that sometimes a little white lie can work wonders.
"Philippe," he whispers.
Silence. It's an eldritch silence, as if no one would know what to say. For a few moments no one speaks, they're just lying in bed. Awake.
"Listen Philippe, there's nothing to worry about, ok? It's only Malta, and apart from that, you won't be alone. I'm there, too, Philippe."
There's silence again. But this time it's different. Thierry can almost feel how Philippe thinks about Thierry's words. Especially his last sentence. He can almost hear Philippe smile.
"Thank you," the young Frenchman whispers back. And from the way he says it Thierry knows that Philippe understood, that he understood everything.
When Philippe finally starts snoring almost inaudibly, Thierry thinks that sometimes little white lies are not the worst option.
Author: tifosarossonera
Rating: PG
Pairing: Thierry Henry/Philippe Mexès
Feedback: Yes, please!
Disclaimer: All lies.
Summary: Philippe is about to make his debut for the National Team.
Archive: Beautiful Games, if accepted
Note: For chimera_negra and the fic challenge (requested word: silence). I am so so sorry that it took me ages to write it, love and that it didn't turn out better. O_o
When Philippe writhes nervously in bed, not being able to sleep, making enough noise to wake Thierry up, the striker tries to remember whether it had been for him like that too, back in 1997. Being called up by the national team for the first time, that's every footballer's dream. Thierry doesn't know if it's any different in other countries, but he knows that the French are very proud of their country, their nationality, just themselves.
Soon Philippe is to make his debut for the senior team, his heroes. It's only a European Cup qualifier. It's only Malta. It should not be too much too worry about, Thierry thinks himself. It should be a rather easy one, but then to Philippe it wouldn't be any different if it were just an unimportant friendly.
Thierry feels sorry for the young man, who's kept away from the precious sleep, that he needs so urgently. He would love to tell him that they will definitely win and that there is absolutely nothing to worry about. But that would be a lie. You always have to be careful, even if your opponent is believed to weak, that is something one should never be too certain about.
But as the young man keeps on writhing, sighing, moaning in frustration, Thierry thinks that sometimes a little white lie can work wonders.
"Philippe," he whispers.
Silence. It's an eldritch silence, as if no one would know what to say. For a few moments no one speaks, they're just lying in bed. Awake.
"Listen Philippe, there's nothing to worry about, ok? It's only Malta, and apart from that, you won't be alone. I'm there, too, Philippe."
There's silence again. But this time it's different. Thierry can almost feel how Philippe thinks about Thierry's words. Especially his last sentence. He can almost hear Philippe smile.
"Thank you," the young Frenchman whispers back. And from the way he says it Thierry knows that Philippe understood, that he understood everything.
When Philippe finally starts snoring almost inaudibly, Thierry thinks that sometimes little white lies are not the worst option.