He's A Rebel, He's A Saint Part 7
Title: He’s a rebel, He’s A Saint (7/7)
Author: Spain_fanatic79/viva_espana97/ Alex Aviero (same person lol)
Pairing: Bojan Krkic/OFC (Alexandra Dom)
Rating: PG, PG13 not sure yet
Disclaimer: As much as I would like it to be true, my friend is not Bojan’s lover and none of this is true
Author’s Note/Dedication: A Christmas present for my awesome friend Alex, Bojan/ Kaká/ Higuain lover-in that order. As much as I would like it to be true, my friend is not Bojan’s lover and none of this is true. Also, please do not try to take any sort of moral advice from this as that is very likely a terrible idea since I’m not even sure what I’m talking about here. It was just fluff for fun!
About twenty years later, Alex was cooking dinner for her family when her fourteen year old daughter Esperanza comes down to her. “Mamí, my…friend…invited me over to their house for a summer party…can I go? Please?” Alex frowned. She didn’t particularly like the idea of her daughter going to parties, she was a bit young…
“Who is this friend?” she asked her daughter.
“Well, um, it’s Raúl. At school,” her daughter said quickly.
“What’s his last name?” Alex asked.
“Morata. Raúl Morata Aviero.” The way Esperanza said his name, Alex knew there was more to it that Esperanza was telling him.
“Morata? Isn’t that Alejandra Morata’s son?” Alex wondered aloud.
“Yes, Mamí.”
“Hm. I will talk to your father.”
About half an hour later, Bojan came in from playing football outside with the two boys, twelve year old Sergio and eight year old Luca. Alex sent Sergio and Luca up to wash off all the dirt, and she took her husband aside. Alex told Bojan about the party, and then she said, “I don’t know if we should let her go or not…she seems a bit young…” Bojan took his wife in his arms and chuckled softly. “I bet you’re remembering the party we went too…Come on, it can’t be that bad. My parties were never that bad. I mean, my parents were always around and everything. I think we should let her go, if Alejandra and Álvaro are there.”
Alex buried her face in her husband’s shoulder. “But I don’t want her to get hurt…like me…” she mumbled.
“They have to learn it sometime, mí amor. Besides, she’s old enough, older than we were when we first met. And I don’t think you can stop her from getting hurt anyway…she seems pretty in love with this Raúl kid.”
“So you suggest we just let her go and let him break her heart?” Alex said rather appalled.
“No, I’m saying that what happens will happen, and better Raúl Morata, who is a good boy, than some other random kid off the street. I like Raúl, he seems to have inherited the calm, good judgement of his father and the friendliness of his mother.”
“Well, that’s what everyone thought of you, and you were a crazy child,” Alex said playfully.
“Not really… I mean, I was bad, but not like illegal bad…” Bojan said, puzzled.
“What about that time when you were like, fourteen and everyone said you got wasted and ended up in bed with that girl…what was her name?” Alex asked drily.
“What?” Bojan looked even more puzzled now. He thought about it for a while… “Ohhhhhh….” He said. “I know what that was…” He began to laugh as he explained. “Álvaro made that one up!”
“Álvaro Morata? Shy little Álvaro?” Alex said incredulously.
“Yes!” Bojan nodded as he put his hand over his eyes and laughed. “He was jealous because he liked Alejandra, but he was extremely shy so he couldn’t talk to her, but then I was good friends with Alejandra, and he thought we liked each other so he made that up to make her mad at me and so on, and so on, the games of children.”
Now it was Alex’s turn to laugh. “Álvaro? I cannot believe it! Álvaro was such a good boy!”
“See, I was the good one!” Bojan exclaimed. “Anyway, I think we should let her go,”
“Alright,” Alex agreed, though not as reluctantly as before.
They told Esperanza she could go, and she was very excited and called her best friend, and on the night of the party, they got ready together as all teenage girls will do, regardless of the age. They made their way over to the Moratas flat and when they rang the doorbell, it was Raúl, of course, who answered.
Raúl, like Esperanza, was fourteen years old. The boy, whom many thought looked just like his father, had inherited his mother’s cheery attitude, and love of entertainment. However, he also inherited his father’s ability to think rationally and responsibly. It was these characteristivcs combined that enabled him to host the nicest parties of the year, not unlike those that Bojan had hosted so long ago. When he answered the door, he was very impressed with the two very pretty ladies…particularly the lovely one wrapped in the Barcelona scarf, he thought. “Come in, come in,” Raúl said. Then he turned to Esperanza and joked, “Don’t you know that’s the wrong color to wear in my house?”
THE END