***
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siramartinezc: my pretty date ☺️☺️
tagged: sophadiaz
📍London, United Kingdom

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———

sophadiaz: my pretty dateS 💙💙
tagged: paulabatet, siramartinezc
📍 Wembley Stadium, London

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***

"Soph, you have a parcel."

"Um, okay," replies Sophia, frowning. Katherine had just put down their hotel room's phone with the news that left Sophia curious. "I didn't order anything?"

"Why would you?" The voice came from the lad lounging on Katherine's bed, one of two in Katherine and Sophia's shared hotel room. Who else but John Stones, decked in his England Nike tracksuit. "I mean, like, you're in London. You're from Spain. And not for long, too."

"Well," Sophia counters, "five days. Till the final. Still, I didn't order anything."

Katherine shrugs. "The receptionist was just asking if you could go down to the lobby, but didn't mention anything else. Should we take a walk?"

"Aye, let's do it," says John before Sophia gets a chance to answer. Both girls turn their narrowed gazes on him.

"No idea who invited you, Stonesy," says Katherine, pulling a cropped sweatshirt over her tank top and jeans. Sophia herself, pulling her Converse over her feet, opted to stay in her leggings and t shirt. It wasn't that cold, London managed to at least give up its cold temperaments during the summer.

"How are you here, anyways?" asks Sophia. "You're playing Denmark, like, in two days. Don't you need to train?"

John shrugs. "We're on break for an hour. Thought I'd come see my favourite ladies."

"We're the only ladies you talk to, idiot," says Katherine.

"You love me all the same, gaffer," replies John, slinging an arm around Katherine's shoulders as they head to the main reception. Katherine and John hung back as Sophia went to the main desk — she quickly discovered that Rodri, Ferran and Laporte were also on break from training and also in the lobby. The clash of the Englishman and the Spaniards all, as well as their club-level manager, was inevitable at this point, with everyone staying in the same London hotel.

Considering there's four teams and their staff staying in the same hotel altogether, Sophia is surprised her family and herself managed to get rooms.

"How can I help you?" The receptionist asked in Spanish, however he soon converted to English when Sophia made clear her fluency in the language.

"I was told I had a parcel waiting for me?" Sophia says. "From room five-oh-three. Sophia Adams-Diaz."

"Ah, yeah," the guy nods. He was definitively English with the accent he had. He nods at the wall opposite the reception desk. "Over there."

Sophia frowns, not knowing what he was referring to, until she saw a guy with dark hair in an Adidas tracksuit leaning against the wall, phone in hand, package under his arm. When the receptionist clears his throat in the other direction, Pedri looks up, and his eyes brightening at the sight of Sophia.

"Hello," Sophia smiles, surprised nonetheless.

"Hey," returns Pedri, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'm glad you made it. When did you get here?"

"Like, two seconds ago."

"I meant here as in London," Pedri laughs.

"Oh," Sophia chuckles, scratching her ear. "Um, midday. Knocked out as soon as we got in to our rooms. Are you done training?"

"Nah," says Pedri. It was half five. "We've got a bit more after dinner, at half seven. It's neverending."

"I can imagine," Sophia gives him an understanding grin. Her gaze falls on the grey package under his arm, and she asks, "Um, what's going on?"

"Um," there was a little smile playing with his lips. He takes the grey package into his hands, tosses it over, once, twice, then pushes it towards her with his hands. "This is for you, Verdiblanco."

"What is it..?" Sophia accepts the package with scepticism, but Pedri laughs.

"It won't explode in your face, I promise."

"That's helpful," she rolls her eyes, but starts ripping the seal off the grey package anyways. There was red material inside the package, covered with a thin plastic film, and Sophia almost immediately realised what it was.

She pulls the jersey from its packaging, and her mouth drops.

"Pedri." Sophia deadpans.

"Sophia," he returns, grinning as she held the jersey between herself and Pedri. It was from Spain's home kit, but what shocked Sophia was the name and number on the back.

26. Pedri.

"This is yours," says Sophia.

"No, it's yours," says Pedri.

"No, like... it's your shirt."

"That's right."

"You... you got me your jersey?" Sophia asks, softly.

"Yeah," he smiles, scratching his ear. "Thought it was the least I could do after bullying you into coming to London."

Sophia returns the smile. She moves in, wrapping her free arm around his back, and he returns the hug. She smelt of fresh laundry, and he didn't realise how much he loved the specific scent until now.

"You didn't bully me into doing anything, Palmero," she tells him. "I wanted to cheer the team on."

He cocks his head to the side. "The team? Is that all?"

"Oh, Lucho also, obviously."

Pedri raises an eyebrow.

She adds, "Ferran too, we can't forget."

"Sophia."

"Pedri." Sophia had a devious grin on her face at this point.

"I'm taking that back." Pedri's arm reached out to grab the Spain jersey back from Sophia but she swats his arm away, giggling as she held it to her chest.

He couldn't hold the frown for long. Smiling, he asks, "You'll wear it tomorrow?"

"Absolutely, Palmero." She puts a hand on his elbow, insinuating for him to walk with her. "Come, I want you to meet someone."

Pedri follows, curious. They end up with the three Spanish Manchester City players, as well as John and Katherine.

"Hola Rodri, Aymeric, El Toro," Sophia sneaks in a grin towards Ferran.

John butts in, "Just because I know it's not Ferran's name, what does Toro mean?"

"It means bull." At Rodri, Laporte and John's frown, Sophia addresses them all, "You had to be there." Putting a hand on Katherine's shoulder, she says to Pedri, "Mi prima, Katherine."

"It's... nice... to meet you, Katherine," says Pedri, and Sophia clocks that he was speaking in English.

Sophia's heart just melted. This man.

"Mucho gusto, Pedri," replies Katherine with a grin. "Hablas inglés?"

Pedri fervently shakes his head. In Spanish: "No, hardly. That's as much as I know."

"You're better than Stonesy here," says Katherine. "The only Spanish he knows is when it comes to swearing."

Pedri chuckles, then fistbumps John. "John Stones, sí?"

John, shocked, says, "You know my name?"

Pedri frowns, because he couldn't understand. He dips his head next to Sophia's, whispering, "What did he say?"

Sophia answers, "That he's a really big fan and can't believe you know his name."

From Katherine's snicker, Pedri could tell that was a half-lie. He says anyways, "Guardiola is a Barcelona legend. It's inevitable for us to watch their games now and again."

Ferran cuts in, "Oye, you watch City games for me, don't lie."

Katherine translates for John, "Pedri says the only reason he knows you is because one must simply find out the name of the player with the significantly biggest head on the pitch."

John scoffs, bringing Katherine in with an arm around her neck, tickling her in the side with his fist.

Laporte, laughing, says to Sophia and Katherine, "I will never come to either of you if I need a translator." He tells Pedri, referring to Sophia, "You have a cheeky one on your hands there."

Sophia and Pedri connected eyes for a second.

A brief second, before Katherine asks, with deep interest, "What have you got there, Soph?"

"My mystery package," says Sophia. She holds the jersey Pedri gave her up to them, and she knew how it would look.

Nobody said anything, however...

The looks on their faces said everything.

Pedri narrowed his eyes at the maniacal, identical grins on the faces of Laporte, Ferran and Rodri.

"Que?" He asks them.

"You guys are just so fuckin' adorable," says John in their place. Pedri didn't understand, because it was English, but Sophia did. Pedri frowned at her, because of the smile outstretching her face.

When Sophia, Katherine and John said goodbye to the four Spaniards, heading back towards the elevator, Katherine Adams put her chin on her little cousin's shoulder, hugging her from the back.

"My beloved cousin, I am so happy for you."

***

Sophia was going to kill Luis Enrique.

Or the Spanish team. Or the Italian team and their manager. They were all as good as one another. They were all the cause of Sophia's blood pressure skyrocketing.

The game went to penalties.

Again.

Kill her.

Federico Chiesa was the one to break the deadlock for the two teams in the sixtieth minute. Morata then equalised for Spain, and they were back in it.

But extra time was good for nothing, so another round of penalties.

Except, this time, Sophia as well as all her family were present in the stadium. They were almost demoted to standard seating because it was a semifinal, only immediate family of players and staff were permitted priority entrance to the hospitality suite and there were a lot now. But Lucho made sure that the Adams-Diaz family, including Katherine, were right there beside his own family. Made a bit of a scene too, and Sophia felt bad for the doorman he yelled at.

Sophia did get a bit of attention as a result of that but also... to do with what she was wearing. Or who, for that matters.

Because she was wearing Pedri's jersey.

Meeting Paula with Sira, Katherine and Clarissa before the match, Pau Torres' girlfriend smirked on seeing her wear the jersey with the Spanish youngster's name. "Still friends?" Paula had asked, to which Sophia replied with a roll of the eyes and a light shove.

When she saw Fernando in the hospitality suite alongside his parents and some cousins (Sophia's guessing), he gave her that menacing grin Pedri gave her many times because they look so alike. And he told her, "It suits you."

She didn't really know what to say to that, but when they saw her, Pedri's parents were being really sweet. And she thinks she saw his cousin, or relative, or family friend, someone with Pedri's family, but it was a young girl who'd gotten so excited when she had seen Sophia with the number 26 on the front of her jersey. She didn't manage to talk to her or find out who she was, though.

Clarissa, on the seat beside her elder sister, had her hands clutching her stomach, groaning. Watching Manuel Locatelli step up for Italy first, she says, "I'm going to be sick. I'm going to be sick, and I'm going to have to explain this new cause of stress to my therapist on Thursday."

"That's my line," says Sophia. She adds, "I'm also going to be sick."

Possibly also because for once in her life Pacho was nervous. And cuddling baby Rosie for emotional support as they watched the Italian strike.

"SAVED BY UNAI SIMON!"

Cheers and groans amalgamated with one another throughout the stadium. Relief and panic. It was early stages.

Dani Olmo next. He had the chance to give Spain the upper hand. However, as he ran up, his strike sent the ball past Donnarumma and off the bar.

Still 0-0.

Clean penalties followed from Belotti and Bonucci for Italy, Moreno and Thiago for Spain.

Federico Bernardeschi stepped up for Italy, and scored, despite Unai Simon diving the same direction.

Morata made his way to the penalty spot. He runs up, and strikes, Donnarumma dives in the same direction —

"SAVED BY DONNARUMMA!"

Shit.

The box containing Spanish family and friends were reduced to silence, alongside Spaniards throughout the stadium. The Italians were buzzing, though, because all they needed was Jorginho to score his penalty...

(Jorginho looks like Greg Taylor from Celtic, Sophia thinks at the most wrong of times.)

Jorginho ran up and slid the ball towards the bottom right corner — Unai Simon glances the same way, however —

"JORGINHO SCORES! ITALY ARE THROUGH TO THE FINALS OF THE EUROPEAN CHAMPIONSHIPS!"

Sophia sighs, and she feels Clarissa's head drop onto her shoulder. Their father in the seat beside them, Vincent turns to hug his two eldest children. Maria, on their other side, put an arm each around Katherine and Matthias, whose young expressions fell limp. Pacho, with Rosie, slumps back in his seat, at a loss for words. Sira was hugging her mother Elena tight. All while the Italians ran onto the pitch to congratulate one another in making it to the final.

The Andalusian broke away at one point, scuffling through the seats, Sophia found her roommate, wrapping consoling arms around Sira.

"I'm sorry, hermana," Sophia whispers in her hair, and as Sira gripped her back tight, she realised the older girl was crying.

Oh, it broke her heart.

Yeah, it is just football, at the end of the day. But in times like this, when an entire nation is cheering on a group of eleven players following their dreams and that of the rest of their country... when one's father led this group of eleven players to so much success...

Nobody blamed any of the Spaniards for their sadness.

An arm comes around Sira and Sophia's embrace, and Pacho's tall figure became clear to her. He kisses both the head of his younger sister and the Andalusian he considered his younger sister. Sophia felt a pair of little hands on the back of her head in Pacho joining their hug, and realises her baby sister.

"I'll take her," she tells Pacho, pressing her lips into a mere smile, and he nods, kissing Rosie's thin head of hair. The Enrique family should be together right now. When Rosie's figure comes into Sophia's hold, the baby throws her tiny arms around her big sister, burrowing her head into Sophia's neck. She sighs. Babies and their ability to read the situation.

The stadium was beginning to empty of the Spanish fans. A few of the players had jumped over the bannister, come to be with their partners and families. Lucho had came to see his family, Elena taking him into her arms without another thought, followed by his children. Paula had an arm around Pau Torres' shoulders, the Spanish defender sitting on the plastic chair beside her, head on his girlfriends' shoulder. Laporte had just crossed the barrier, embracing his mother and partner Sara. Sophia looked over to see if Pedri had met his family yet. Fernando was still in the same seat, hands in his head, his father's hand on his shoulder. His mother and the rest of their group were there too, but Pedri wasn't.

That was when she saw him.

Still in the middle of the pitch, away from the rampaging Italians celebrating their win, Pedri was being embraced by Thiago and Lucho, and it was there that she realised he'd been reduced to tears.

He was crying, and it broke her fucking heart.

Katherine clocked this, and also the glassy appearance in her cousin's eyes.

"Poor boy," says Katherine, a hand on Sophia's shoulder.

With the weakest of smiles, the Andalusian offers, "I guess we won't be meeting one another in the finals."

Katherine shakes her head. "That was never as important." Laporte comes up to the two and shares a hug with his club-level manager. Katherine tells him to stay strong, just as she did when she consoled Rodri, however Ferran...

Sophia didn't see Ferran once the match ended. His sister was in the stands with their parents, but they left too. She assumes he went straight to the changing rooms to get out as soon as possible.

"Mija, we should go," says Vincent, placing a hand on Sophia's back. "Let the players be with their families."

Sophia nods, because he was right. At the end of the day, they were still a random family from Sevilla. Now was a time for the players and their loved ones.

She looks back to the pitch once and sees Pedri again. Busquets had an arm around him, telling him something face-to-face. The Canarian could hardly meet his eyes.

Vincent clears his throat. "Unless you want to wait..."

"It's okay," says Sophia. She realises he just saw her staring in Pedri's direction.

"Are you sure?" With the calmest of smiles, Vincent says, "Don't pretend like I can't see whose jersey you're wearing right now."

"It's okay, Papa," says Sophia, smiling a little herself. "I'll call him once he's had the chance to wind down a little."

Vincent nods. "If you're sure, Mija."

"I am, Papa," she says. "Pedri needs his family."

***

On returning to her and Katherine's London hotel room, Sophia was joined quickly by Matthias and Clarissa. The younger siblings were only in the room next door, but it felt better together, with the tournament heartbreak, they didn't want to be alone. And even though she backed England, Katherine hated seeing those frowns on her cousins' faces.

Sophia was helping Matthias through the latest level of Zelda, both lying on their fronts on her bed. While Clarissa was showing Katherine through the Real Betis youth team's instagram, Manchester City's manager using this as a chance to coerce her little cousin into joining the City academy.

"Like, I know I can't stay at Betis forever," says Clarissa, after Katherine had protested that exact point. "I'd love to be a one-club player, but I'm no Callum McGregor or James Forrest. Its different in ladies football. It's difficult to be the homegrown hero in an underdog team, even one as historically big as Betis." Flipping her hair over to put it in a ponytail, she continues, "I still have time, but... I want at least another few seasons in Seville. I'm seventeen."

"Would you ever consider Manchester?" Katherine asks with doe eyes. "Even Glasgow. Celtic's female team are dominating beyond means, and you're half Scottish."

Clarissa sighs, thinking over it for a minute. This piqued Sophia's interest too. "Maybe not for my first move away from home... I'd still stay in Spain. Search for an offer to Levante, or Bilbao, maybe even Valencia. Never Sevilla."

"Respectfully, babe," Sophia pipes in, "You'd be disowned for even thinking of going to them."

"My point exactly," Clarissa says. To answer Katherine, "I wouldn't rule it out. But...  not yet."

That made Katherine happy enough.

Soon after there was a knock on their hotel room door; it was Maria and Vincent, carrying paper bags and drinks cups clearly labelled with the McDonald's logo. A pick-me-up for their children. It was late, so as soon as all the cheeseburgers and fries boxes were collated to be dumped in the tiny hotel room bin, Clarissa and Matthias had been ushered to their beds.

Katherine was in the shower when Sophia had gotten the ping of a new message, laying on her back in bed, wearing a Nike sweatshirt with black leggings.

From: Sira

Sira: hey soph
You: hey saz
You: are you okay? how's lucho doing?
Sira: i'm fine now
Sira: dad's okay too. he's just exhausted, but obviously sad
Sira: i didn't see you at dinner?
You: nah, mum and dad got mcdonalds delivered to the hotel. matt was gutted, they wanted something to cheer us all up
Sira: icb you got mcdonalds without me😔
Sira: you're not leaving yet right?
You: we're here until the final, gonna head back to sevilla after then
You: you want to go out sightseeing tomorrow? before the england denmark game
Sira: definitely. think pacho was looking at bike hires earlier, the three of us & kat & clarissa can all go
Sira: matt also if ur parents trust us with him
You: i'll see what i can do🤣
Sira: soph
Sira: i'm worried about ferran
You: oh?
You: i noticed he left immediately too
Sira: yeah, and he wasn't at dinner with the rest of the players. i just don't think he should be alone at a time like this
You: what are you saying..?
Sira: i want to go see him... just to make sure he's alright
You: that all 😙
Sira: soph😐
You: okay i'm sorry
You: saz, ur an adult. so is he. if you think it's the right thing to do, go for it. i'll send him a message myself but...
You: he's definitely taken to you
Sira: soph...
You: you can't blame him
Sira: i love you <3 don't ditch me at breakfast tomorrow!!!
You: i love you too, but no promises <3

Sira still didn't know that Sophia knew about what went down between her and Ferran. Now, also, was not the time to bring it up — she let it go. It wasn't important. Everyone needed comforting, right now.

Sophia's finger hovered over Pedri's caller ID. Katherine was still in the shower, and it was almost nine. They'd been back in the hotel for a few hours.

And she said she'd call Pedri.

Quit fuckin' stalling, Soph.

Sophia calls Pedri.

It took a few rings before any sign of someone — Pedri — picking up. And when he did, it was silence on the other end. Sophia gripped the phone against her ear.

She inhales and then speaks slowly, "Pedri?"

There was a pause, before his voice spoke, "Hola, Verdiblanco."

Sophia let out a relieved sigh.

"How are you doing?" She asks him. Not sure if it even was the right thing to ask, because he just gave his entire heart and soul for this tournament and got eliminated. She imagines he feels kind of shit right now, anyone in his position would.

But all Pedri replies was, "I've been better."

"I can imagine," she says.

"I didn't see you after the match," says Pedri. "Fernando said he saw you and your family leave."

"We didn't really feel like it was our place to be," explains Sophia. "Thought it would've been better to let players and their families have some time."

Silence on the other end, again.

Sophia asks, "Where are you right now?"

"I'm back in my room," Pedri replies. "...Why?"

Sophia bites her lip. And then says, "I can come over... if you want me to."

Another pause. And then Pedri says, "Please."

"I'll be there in five."

The door to the en-suite opens, and Katherine steps out in her pyjama shorts and T-shirt. She sees Sophia pulling on her converse, and frowns.

"Where are you off to at this time, Soph?"

"I haven't seen Pedri yet," replies Sophia.

"Hold up." Katherine sits on the bed, her wet hair still in its towel. "You're going to see Pedri... in his room?"

"It's where he is, Kat, so yes," says Sophia casually, trying to not make it sound like a big thing.

It was a bit of a big thing.

"Alright," says Katherine, a smirk ghosting her lips. "Call me if anything happens."

Sophia arches an eyebrow. "If what happens?"

"If anything worth calling me for happens."

Sophia laughs, rolling her eyes, before grabbing her stuff and heading out her room, key card in hand. Before he hung up the phone Pedri told her his room number, and it was the floor above her and along. She took the stairs, because it was one floor. Trying to force herself to not be lazy. But also, because of the nervy buzz within her.

She was meeting Pedri. In his room. At nine in the night.

If you told Sophia back in early April that this is what her night might end up to, she'd have laughed like there was no tomorrow.

Her fist hesitates as it moves to knock on Pedri's door.

There was no reason. It was just Pedri. There was absolutely no reason for her to be nervous around him like this.

You haven't even seen him yet, Soph.

She knocks, at long last.

And when Pedri opens the door, she doesn't hesitate in hugging the Canarian. He didn't, either. When she threw her arms around his neck, he gripped Sophia's waist with his arms like it was his lifeline, burrowing his face into her neck, comforted by that same scent he got every time he was around her.

"I'm sorry, Pedri," says Sophia.

"It's okay," he replies. "One of us had to go."

"It happened in the worst way," sighs Sophia. Remembering the heart-shredding look of him sobbing on the pitch earlier, Sophia asks slowly, "Are... are you okay?"

"I'm tired," he says, and when they break apart, she saw that exact tiredness in the dark rims beneath his eyes. She felt it in the weight of his hug, the way he collapsed into her, her almost holding him up at that point.

"If you want to rest, I can..."

"No, don't go, please," he requests. "I want you here. I... I missed you earlier. When you left the pitch. I wanted to see you."

"I'm sorry I left early," says Sophia.

"You don't have to be sorry for anything," he says, his hand ghosting the side of her arm.

Sophia recognised that look in his eyes.

"Neither do you," she feels she has to tell him. Pedri's head drops, avoiding eye contact, so she places a finger under his chin, tipping his face back up. "You more than played your part out there tonight, Pedri. This entire tournament, even. You're tired for a reason; you played more minutes than anyone else, and you gave your heart and soul every second. You don't need to be sorry for anything."

A little smile twitched at his lips and he says, "I didn't know you paid that much attention to me, Verdiblanco." His eyes travel down to something resting in Sophia's hand. A black case. "Is that what I think it is?"

Holding up the case of her Nintendo Switch between them, Sophia says with a slight grin, "I figured you've never played Zelda before, with your limited knowledge."

"Alright," says Pedri with an amused smile. "Let's do it." He paves way towards his bed, the only decent place there was to sit and game.

"Um, where's—?" Sophia looks at the suitcase on the bed that wasn't Pedri's, it just dawning on her that he'd have a roommate. Who wasn't in sight.

"Oh, that's Ayme's," says Pedri. "We're sharing, but he's spending the night with his partner Sara. It's just us."

"That's fair enough," nods Sophia, tucking her Converse to the side as she sat on Pedri's bed, folding her legs into a basket. He sits beside her, his own console in hand. She noticed he was wearing grey joggers and the mint blue Adidas Spain polo that matched their travelling kit.

Sophia helps Pedri get started with the Breath of the Wild game, and he frowns. "Why can't I change my character? It's not letting me pick someone else apart from the Zelda lad."

Sophia snickers, "You mean Link? He's the only character you can go as."

"That's shit," says Pedri, eyebrows knotted as he continues with the game.

It amused Sophia, so she reminded him, "The Legend of Zelda is based around Link doing all this chivalrous stuff to rescue Princess Zelda."

"I take it he fancies her," says Pedri.

"It's your typical childhood friends-to-lovers story," Sophia nods in agreement. "He's down bad. It's quite sweet actually. I aspire to have a romance like Zelda and Link."

"You're a nerd, and it's fucking adorable."

Pedri starts laughing, and Sophia finds herself elbowing him in the side amidst the red blush crawling up her neck. Temperatures had risen a little in the room (or maybe it was just her), so Sophia peels off the navy Nike sweatshirt she was wearing. In doing so, she didn't miss the way Pedri's eyes lingered over her body. She was about to question it, then realised she hadn't taken off her Spain jersey from earlier. With Pedri's name.

"You did wear it, then?" Pedri asks Sophia, something soft in his brown eyes, the way the corners of his mouth upturned.

Sophia smiles. "I said I would, didn't I?"

Pedri nods with a slight grin. "You look good with it on." He realises what he said, then retraces, adding, "Not that you don't already, like, look good, you do, I-" He stops himself, sighing, facepalming himself.

"I get the point, Palmero," Sophia chuckles. "Cheers."

He clears his throat. "I'm gonna play the game."

Sophia grins, placing her hand on the duvet behind Pedri, leaning in to watch him play the game. She's already completed the game twice, and is on her third round while she waits for the next Legend of Zelda game to be released. (Which was in almost two years, she hates this. To think she's played every mini game that got released after Breath of the Wild, too.)

The only reason she kept herself this close to him was because she was helping him with the game. Obviously.

And they only reason he let her be this close to him was because he needed help with the game. Obviously.

"I didn't realise you spoke such good English," Pedri mentions to Sophia, eyes still trained on his Switch. Unknowingly, her eyes inched up to his face, examining his expression. His lips pressing together in concentration, furrowed eyebrows shadowing his chestnut eyes, the slight prickles on his chin indicating stubble.

Then she remembered he asked a question, and forced herself to look at the game console, Link eating some kind of weird berry at this moment.

"You mean last night? In the lobby?"

"Yeah," nods Pedri. "With your cousin and John Stones. Speaking of... are they together? They seem... close."

"You are not the first to ask that question, Palmero," says Sophia. "No, they're not together. They're very... affectionate with one another, which often makes people think they are. They're just that close."

She's never said it to anyone, especially Katherine, who avoids her own feelings like the plague, but Sophia has always thought someone like John to be good for her. Maybe, without knowing, part of Sophia has always rooted for John and Katherine. They'd fit.

"What about the English, then?" Pedri asks again. "How are you so fluent?"

"Oh, it's not anything interesting," she tells him. "Because my mum is from the UK, English was her first language. We speak English mainly at home."

"I'd love to learn English," says Pedri. "It seems difficult."

"It can be confusing at times," Sophia agrees. "But it's not impossible to learn. I could always... um... teach you?"

That made him look up from his Nintendo Switch, and a smile overcomes him. He nods, "I would be up for that." He frowns, looking back at the console screen. "I need to go to the dungeon? Where's the dungeon?"

He'd already gotten back to figuring it out, and Sophia's finger outstretched to try and tell him how to get to the dungeon only to be denied with "I got it, I got it," — as if that was enough to deter Sophia, who continued to prod. He swatted her hands away at last, leaving her snickering at his irritation.

"You're so annoying," says Pedri, but the betraying grin on his face said anything but that. She lets him get on with the game which — adding to her own pride — he seemed to be invested in. At some point, Pedri outstretched his legs, leaning his back against the headboard of his bed, Sophia similarly leaning back, balancing her console on the knees she'd pulled to her chest. She was playing Super Mario Odyssey on her Switch.

A few hours had definitely passed by the time Pedri's Switch screen blacked out, and he only left the comfort of his bed to plug it into its charger. He returned to the same position, this time being the one to watch Sophia's game.

A sigh left him as Pedri rested his head on Sophia's shoulder.

"Hey," she says, pausing her game.

"Hey," he returns.

"What... what happens now?" asks Sophia. "Are you going back home?"

"Not going home just yet," says Pedri, and he the fatigue was obvious. "We're all staying for the last two games. I have a week to rest and then... the Olympics."

Sophia raises an eyebrow in curiosity. "Olympics?"

He nods. "Luis de la Fuente called me up for Spain's team. It's mainly the Spanish B team, but others from this squad'll be there, Eric, Unai, Pau, Dani Olmo. It's in Tokyo, and it's six games total, with the hope we make it all the way to the final. It'll be fine, I hope."

Sophia sighs. "It's a lot of game time. But... you have a week?" A thought came to mind.

"Yeah," he says, "It's not long, but it's a week."

"They better give you a decent holiday before club football begins again," she chuckles.

"I pray they do," he grins. "It's... you know. It is an honour, still. To fight by the shirts of Spain and Barcelona. Because years ago this was just a dream. It just... it gets exhausting sometimes."

"Anyone understands that," Sophia sympathises. "You might be one of the best youngsters in the world, Pedri, but you're still human."

A moment of silence breezes by, when Pedri says, "Thank you, Sophia."

She frowns. "For what?"

"Calling me, um." He adds, "Coming here... playing Zelda with me... talking to me. I told Ayme and Fernando I'd be fine on my own, but... I needed this tonight, I think. I needed you here."

"You don't need to thank me for anything," she tells him. "I'm proud of you."

He smiles at her, angling his head up while still slumped over her shoulder. There's a buzz, and Sophia knows by the ringtone it's her phone. She reaches for her sweatshirt pocket, apologising to Pedri for removing his 'pillow', and takes her phone out. It was a message from Katherine.

Have you been fuckin abducted then???

Sophia checks the time, sitting up. "Fuck, it's almost one." She takes a look back at Pedri, leaning on one elbow. "Katherine will be wondering where I am," she tells him, as her cue to leave.

Before she does, Pedri says, "Technically, she does know where you are... If you've told her." There was something different in the way he was looking at her.

"I did tell her," says Sophia carefully. "What are you thinking..." Trying to decipher the look in his eyes. Then it dawned on her. "Do you want me to stay?"

He presses his lips together, more an indication than any sort of denial.

"Only if... you wanted to stay, too."

Holy cow. Pedri was asking her to spend the night with him.

Well... only if she wanted to.

Yet she found it difficult to come up with reasons not to. It was one night, and he would be going to Tokyo soon and she would be back in Sevilla and it would be a while before they would at least be in the same city again...

And it was especially difficult to come up with reasons not to when he still wore that look that respired heat within her while being everything endearing, all the same. That he really fucking cared about her, and it meant everything to Sophia. Also, he hugged good.

This guy.

Sophia says, "I'll stay with you, Pedri."

And the smile that followed from him, she wanted to frame it forever.

So, Sophia messaged Katherine. Told her not to wait for her to come back, that she hadn't been abducted and was perfectly safe. And she went back to Pedri.

There was something so natural about the way they came together. Under the duvet, he held his arms open, and she went into them without another thought, holding one another close. It wasn't cold, but this was a different type of warmth they needed.

"Buenas noches, Palmero."

"Buenas noches, Princesa."

That night, Sophia fell asleep with her arms around Pedri, with his lips lingering on her temple. That night, there was absolutely nothing foreign about the tangle of their bodies beneath the duvet.

That night, they needed one another.

***

hi angels <3

hope we enjoyed that... ;) i'll admit it didn't exactly come out how i wanted it to but i hope you all enjoyed <333

ALSO AS A LITTLE DISCLAIMER from the last chapter... i mentioned how i saw a couple of taylor swift songs to suit sophia & gio this wasn't me preferring them NAH lads and ladies i am team pedri why else would i be writing this?? it was just something i related to as someone who has *had* a gio in their lives before, it was just something to say, for every gio there will be a pedri too <3

(where's my pedri then🧐)

these pictures from when spain got knocked out i am sobbing at the height difference but also it fucking hurt so bad during the euros (and during the wc) seeing pedri sad like don't do this to me

i currently have a man united fan i go to uni with who slid into my dm's after I posted a picture of gavi getting the number 6 to my story lol lad was just slandering barca i'm like where did i ask😃 keep ur mf opinions to urself pal and don't attack gavi that's my son. my mates think it was a horrid attempt at flirting and if so telling the girl their team is gonna get cooked is not deemed as flirting btw💙

i wanted to say! a lot of yous are clearly football fans if ur reading this & i have a (very VERY lowkey) football editing account! feel free to follow or not bc as i said it's very lowkey but i often edit cute friendships from my teams as well as their cute players <3

i'm off to bed i have a class tomorrow and it's half past midnight lol who do i think i am💙

take care and ily all <333