***
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sophadiaz: feliz cumpleaños, mi ángel 💙
📍 Sevilla, Andalusia

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***

They were seated on those garden swing things, the long seat with the comfy mattress. It was still in the face of the party, however an outlier to its circumference. They could have a private gossip session without actually disappearing.

And so, Sophia told Sira everything.

Everything ranging on what happened the night Spain got knocked out of the Euros — because they hadn't had the chance to debrief much in the few days that remained in England. How she called him once the match ended, and he asked if she could come to his room. How they played Switch games for hours, before he asked her to stay the night. To stay with him.

Waking up with his arms still around her.

And then at the restaurant, when everyone was taking pictures at the bar, and Pedri's arm was so perfectly around her waist as Laporte took their picture.

When Pedri came upstairs to see her... and she kissed him.

And he kissed her back.

Sophia doesn't think Sira even registered being told also about their late night calls (for Sophia) while he was in Tokyo; Sira's jaw hung open in shock the moment she'd been told Sophia and Pedri kissed.

"That's you caught up," says Sophia.

Sira doesn't say anything

And then, in the loudest whisper ever: "You two kissed?"

"We did."

"Fuck me, man. I've missed so much. But also, finally. Please tell me you invited him here?"

"I did," Sophia chuckles. "He's a little late, but he's coming. Your turn. Tell me what happened between you and Ferran."

"Alright. Well... do you remember that party we were all at? After Spain qualified past the group stages?"

"I do."

"Me and Ferran danced for a while... he's a really good dancer... well, um..." Sira squints her eyes, not sure how to get it out. "We kind of hooked up?"

"How do you kind of hookup?"

"Okay it wasn't a kind of hookup. It was a definite hookup. I — we — wait, why aren't you shocked?"

Sophia lifts her mouth in retaliation, realising she's not the greatest actress. But also because there was no point in hiding it.

She can't help the laugh that escaped her when she said, "I know you guys hooked up."

"Wait, what?" says Sira. "How?"

"Let's just say I might have unfortunately been in one of the bathroom stalls when I heard two people come in..." Sophia explains. "It didn't take me long to figure out it was you two."

"Okay. This is bizarre," Sira remarks. "Anyways. We avoided bringing it up, but then Spain got knocked out, all I could do was think about he immediately isolated himself from the group. How bad he must've been feeling to do that. So... I went to go see him."

"What, er, happened?" Sophia asks carefully.

"Nothing of that sort," Sira assures Sophia. "I just stayed with him for a little while. We took a walk around the hotel's area, got some ice cream. Even though it was dead of night, the whole thing with him was... really nice."

Even though she already knew the answer, Sophia still had to ask. "Do you have feelings for him?"

"It wouldn't matter if I did," Sira shrugs. "It would be a betrayal to my dad, almost. He hates this stuff. The last thing he'd want is for me to be involved with a player of his."

Sophia grimaces, being she knows that's true. "Well," she starts, "as far as players of his to be involved with... Ferran isn't the worst. There is definitely worse."

"That's true. It could've been Ramos. I do have his number still."

"Exactly," says Sophia. "Full respect to the guy himself, but you've not reached Ramos-level yet. And if I do say so myself... Ferran has definitely taken to you. As both your friend and his, there is definitely something there."

Sira chuckles, twining her hands together in her lap. "There is, isn't there?"

Footsteps trample across the grass, and Matthias comes in the faces of Sophia and Sira. "Sophia! Soph!"

"You alright, Matt?" Sophia asks her little brother, frowning.

With the most shocked, excited grin, Matthias says, "Pedri's here!"

"He is?" says Sophia.

"Yes, and Ansu Fati is with him! Come on!"

Chuckling, Sophia let's Matthias pull her by the hand off of the swinging chair, Sira following. By the entrance archway, the same spot Sira and her family had came in not too long ago, was a cluster of folk, Sophia's parents amongst them, Maria bouncing the birthday girl in her arms. Vincent was chatting to two boys whose backs Sophia could only see. But because they were near enough identical by hair and height, Sophia thinks she knew who they could be. Aymeric was there too, and had just peeled back from an embrace with who could only be Ansu Fati.

Vincent catches a glimpse of Sophia, Matthias and Sira walking across the garden. The older man briefly raises his eyebrow towards her as if to indicate something. Of the two near-identical backs, one turned around, and Pedri's face split into a wide smile on seeing Sophia approach.

"Hey, you," Sophia laughs, and Pedri wasted no spare moment in wrapping his arms around her.

Damn, she missed this.

"Hola, Verdiblanco," Pedri says into her hair.

"I wonder who missed the other more," she hears someone snicker behind Pedri.

"Pedriño, for sure, Ansu," a voice that resembled Fernando replies.

"I beg to differ," Clarissa's voice joins in. "Sophia wears Pedri's Spain jersey more than her favourite Darth Vader tee, and I've never though that possible."

Sophia scoffs at Clarissa, who dives out the way before she could get a smack on the head from her older sister. After reluctantly moving away from Pedri's warm arms, she turns to his older brother.

"Glad you could make it, Fernando," Sophia grins. She says to Ansu, "You too, Ansu. Sorry for the last minute invite."

"No issue at all." Ansu grins. "Thank you for inviting me. It's nice to meet you, I've heard many great things."

Sophia looks at Pedri, whose face flushed slightly. One might think it was the power of the sun, but the way his smile perked told her something else entirely. Pedri ruffles Matthias's unkempt hair in greeting, before fist-bumping Clarissa, and it warmed her heart.

"I hope we're not too late," Pedri grimaces. "The train got delayed a little."

"That's a lie," Fernando cuts in cheekily. "He completely forgot about this party until yesterday, hence the last minute train to Sevilla."

"Perfect timing, actually, boys," says Vincent. "The food's about to be served. Let's get you three a seat."

"Is that a bouncy castle?" Fernando was heard exclaiming as Vincent lead the three to a table half-populated, Mateo amongst the guests, who was positively awestruck when Ansu Fati, his club's latest number 10, sat down opposite him.

Sophia would get the chance to see Pedri, anyways. Surely.

***

"You know I'm only asking in her best interests, right, Soph?"

"Yes, Uncle Andy," replies Sophia, handing out a slice of cake to someone Sophia remembers as one of her dad's first business partners.

("You're Vince's eldest?" She remarked. "My god, last time I saw you, you barely reached my knees! You're gorgeous, taken after your mum with those eyes!")

The food had been served in the buffet, and near-enough everyone had ate, aside from some heavily late people who were still eating. After two hundred pictures too many being taken of the Adams-Diaz family, centring the birthday girl and her four (four) cakes, people were free to pace the party again. The young kids they'd gathered today were most happy about that. Sophia doesn't know how she got stuck into handing-out-birthday-cake duty, but it doesn't surprise her.

Besides, Uncle Andy is with her. She loves Uncle Andy.

Until he started enquiring about his daughter's—Katherine—love life.

"It just feels like she's not interested," says Andrew. "And fair enough if she doesn't to meet someone. But I want her to talk to me about it."

"It's different when it comes to your love life, Uncle Andy," Sophia shrugs. "I don't necessarily think she's uninterested in finding someone." Part of Sophia think she already has found someone. "She's the co-manager of one of the top teams in Europe. She's got a lot on her plate, but she's still young. Whatever she decides, she has some time for it."

The next person to come to the cake table came in the form of Sophia's ten year old brother, doing a bad job of hiding the crumbs of chocolate cake he'd previously eaten. Matthias explores the cakes in front of him, oblivious to the pointed looks of his sister and uncle.

"Vanilla sponge, por favor," Matthias asks.

Andrew raises an eyebrow at his nephew. "Wee man, this is your third slice."

"No, it's my first!"

Sophia says, "We're talking about slices of cake not flavours, Matt."

"Pleaaaaaase," Matthias pleads.

"Your mum's gonna kill me, wee man," says Andrew. "And I think Soph can agree that you'll be bouncin' aff the walls all night, too."

"My mum doesn't need to know."

Approaching the three, someone clicks their tongue, and Pedri comes to stand next to Matthias. He was wearing a crisp white tee with jeans, with a grin as bright as the sun cascading over them.

"I can't believe you're depriving your own brother of cake, Verdiblanco," says Pedri.

Sophia rolls her eyes. "I'm the bad guy for making sure my little brother doesn't head into a sugar coma?"

"Totally," Pedri laughs, Matthias looking between them all with his pleading eyes.

"Qué quieres, chico?" Andrew asks Pedri, gesturing to the four cakes: vanilla, chocolate fudge, carrot cake and red velvet.

Pedri replies, "The vanilla sponge, por favor."

"Your Spanish is really improving, Uncle Andy," says Sophia.

As he plates up Pedri's cake, Matthias still looking hopeful, Andrew grins. "Thank Duolingo for that. Here you go, chico."

Andrew gave Pedri the paper plate with vanilla cake. In the space of a second, the plate moved from Pedri's hands to Matthias's — Pedri put a hand to the back of Matthias's head, urging him to run away before they'd get caught.

Matthias sped from their views, and Sophia's mouth hung open.

"You're ridiculous," she tells Pedri, laughing incredulously.

"That was sneaky," says Andrew, looking somewhat impressed. "I kind of respect it."

Pedri shrugs, grinning. "Helping out my fans."

"You having a good time, Palmero?" Sophia asks.

"It's been fun," Pedri smiles. "Me and your mum actually had a really nice chat."

"Oh yeah?"

Pedri hums, "She was telling me about your little crush on Henrik Larsson as a girl and how that was the moment you decided you wanted to be a footballer wife."

"No she didn't," Sophia deadpans.

"Even as a non-native, your mum's Spanish is as clear as your own," Pedri continues. "She says and I quote—"

"Don't go any further." Sophia silences Pedri with a hand on his mouth. Even then, she could feel the smile on his lips against her hand. It took her back to when the roles were reversed at the Spain team party, when Pedri had his own hand against her mouth, and how they almost kissed.

It took her back to when they did kiss, and how long it had been.

(A month. But that felt like forever.)

And she remembered, her uncle was still there.

Sophia drops her hand from Pedri's mouth, having gone red in the face for multiple reasons now.

Andrew says, "Geez, Soph, yer mum's really not holding back from your mates at all, is she?"

"Nope," says Sophia, a begrudging laugh falling from her. She thinks she could forgive Pedri, though, especially with the way he was smiling at her, positively entertained.

"Have I lost my cake privileges after that?" Pedri asks, looking purposefully doe-eyed.

"Yeah, unfortunately. Time to hit the road." Sophia cracks a laugh, "Nah. Which d'you want?"

Pedri bares his teeth momentarily, surveying the four options. "I'll take carrot cake."

"Good choice," says Sophia as she plates up the cake this time.

"Gracias, princesa," Pedri grins as Sophia gives him his cake. "I'm gonna go help Ansu nutmeg some kids."

"Have fun, Palmero," Sophia chuckles.

When Pedri leaves, Andrew turns to Sophia. Gesturing between Pedri's retreating figure and his niece, he asks, "You and him...?"

"Um," Sophia grimaces, that it was that obvious, "Kind of. Yeah. I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"We kissed once," she tells her uncle. "Don't tell my parents, because I'm not sure what's going on yet."

"Nae bother, Soph," says Andrew. "But you like him?"

Sophia looks in the distance and sees Pedri, Aymeric and Ansu stopping the kids — Matthias's school friends — from reaching the ball. She smiles. "I do."

"He's cool," says Andrew. "What happened to that other guy? What was his name again, Giova—"

Andrew was immediately silenced by Sophia's tense head shake, her eyes wide at the latest person to come forward to the two.

"Gio," says Sophia, loud enough to make it obvious to Andrew who this was. "Hi."

"Alright?" Gio grins. He was wearing a plaid shirt rolled up to the sleeves and black jeans. His hair flopped around when he didn't part it with his hands, and it was annoyingly attractive. "Would I be able to grab a slice of chocolate fudge, por favor?"

"You've good taste, pal," says Andrew as Sophia hands Gio his cake with a smile.

"Gracias," Gio nods at both uncle and niece.

Andrew sets his cake-cutting knife down, wiping any last bits of frosting off his hands. "It now looks like everyone's got their cake, so I'm gonna take this as my cue to find my daughter." He says, "Always a pleasure, Soph."

"See you in a bit, Uncle Andy."

"Is he the uncle from Scotland?" Gio asks, a thumb jabbed back where Andrew left. "He's got a cool accent."

"He is," says Sophia. "I'm impressed you could understand him, actually. Scottish accents are famous for not being understood."

"If I'm honest, his English is not like the English's English."

"Scots tend to produce their own version of English."

"I respect them for that."

Sophia chuckles, taking herself a slice of red velvet cake. "Enjoying the party?"

"Having a blast, actually," says Gio. "Me and Mateo hit the photo booth earlier. Amazing ideas, I didn't think it could get any better than the bouncy castle."

Sophia, having also enjoyed her spurt of adventure on the bouncy castle earlier, hums in agreement. "I don't think my parents will be splurging out on another kid's birthday anytime soon after this."

"It's as you said. It's not everyday your baby sister turns one." Gio asks, "When are you moving back to Barca?"

"Next week," she answers. "My stuff is nearly all packed. My new semester starts the week after."

"Excited?"

"Yeah," she grins. "Barca is great fun. I will, like, miss everyone here though."

"I just know that was meant for me," Gio exaggerates.

"Ah, yes, because I simply cannot live without you in the vicinity," she rolls her eyes, but laughs when she meets his grin.

Not the first time she's seen him since he arrived at the party, Mateo walks over to Sophia and Gio. The blonde had been visibly enjoying himself, with all the footballer presences at the party, especially when it had came to Pedri and Ansu. They two Barcelona players did not hold back in answering every question of the Barcelona fan; Sophia encountered Mateo looking over Matthias's shoulder (who'd snuck his Nintendo Switch in with him today) as he played Minecraft on one of the benches, and Mateo looked like he was having a fever dream.

"Soph," says Mateo.

"Mateo," returns Sophia.

Putting an arm around Sophia's shoulders, the blonde boy asks, "Who is that gorgeous lady with the blue ribbon in her hair refilling her drink over there?"

"Oh, that's Lydia. My next door neighbour. We practically grew up together."

"She single?"

"She actually just broke up with her boyfr—wait." Sophia clocks what that menacing smile of Mateo's was on to, and deadpans, "No. Absolutely not."

Mateo feigns innocence. "Absolutely not, what?"

"You're not gonna flirt with her."

"I'm gonna chat to her."

Sophia laughs, "You mean you're gonna seduce Lydia with your Mateo charm."

"I'll have you know, ladies love my Mateo charm." says Mateo. "Just got out of a relationship, you say? She'll need a bit of charm."

"No she doesn't — Mateo!"

Before Sophia can grab onto Mateo to stop him, the blonde Barcelona fan speeds out of her clutches, grinning wildly.

"I'm just doing a public service! See if she wants to go to the Photo Booth!" Was the last thing he'd said before disappearing into the party crowd.

"That guy," Sophia laughs, noticing Gio remained with her still, grinning at his coworkers' antics. "Desperate for love."

"That makes more than one of us," Gio chuckles quietly, but Sophia caught on.

"Oh yeah?" She asks. "How have things been in that department?"

"Stalled, um." Gio sips his drink, his eyes remaining on the picture gallery. "There's only one person I have eyes for, but she's found someone else."

"Anyone I know?" Sophia asks. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, um..." he says, "You know her really well, actually."

That made Sophia curious. Until she noticed the way Gio he was looking at her as he said it. Something familiar and direct, as crystal clear as the blue in his eyes. Those damned gorgeous eyes.

It hit her like an acorn to the head.

"No way... it can't be..." Eyes squinted in something that was a cross of confusion, denial, even anger. "You're not talking... about me?"

But Gio didn't say anything, and that spoke a thousand words on its own.

"You're messing with me," says Sophia. Pure disbelief.

He finally speaks. "I have been meaning to bring it up, honest."

"Yeah, and it's at my—" she realises she was almost shouting, and lowers her voice. "At my baby sister's birthday party. I—I'm not doing this here."

As much as Sophia didn't want to be in a room with just him, she also didn't want to make a scene.

She goes to the back, where the kitchen door was wide open and empty, and Gio follows.

"Why?" She asks once the door closed over.

Gio, even with his tall frame giving him no shortage of scope of things to look at, his eyes remained on his feet.

So Sophia repeats, "Why? Why did it take you this long to realise?"

"I realised a long, long time ago, Soph." Gio admits slowly.

"Then why didn't you say... or do anything, Gio?" She asks, pleads. "Fuck, I tried to kiss you and you moved out the way. Why? Was it because I was your boss's daughter? Because I was younger? You don't owe me a confession, Gio. You owe me an explanation."

Gio sighs. "You... you deserve one, you do. I... it was never about you being younger, or being my boss's daughter. Vince is scary, but he's only ever wanted your happiness. And so do I, trust me. You're anyone's dream. Beautiful, respectful, witty. I... I just didn't know what I wanted, at the time."

Sophia raises an eyebrow. "And now you do?"

"Yeah," says Gio. "It's you."

Sophia's heart drops.

A fucking year after she had made her feelings obvious, for him to reject her, and now...

Now it had gotten a lot more complicated.

She couldn't believe the irony.

"I can't, Gio, because..." Sophia sighs. "Because I live in Barcelona. Because I have an entirely different life now. Because it took me fucking ages to get over you, because it was humiliating that my dad had to see me that upset over one of his employees. And because..."

Because of Pedri.

Because of him coming out of the blue, and into her life, and because he asked her to wait for him.

She told Pedri she would wait for him, and Gio was here, confessing his feelings for her, a year too late.

"I can't," Sophia rubs her eyes. "I don't think I could be with you after everything that's happened."

(How the tables had turned, huh?)

"I've always wanted you to be happy, Soph," says Gio. "That never changed. I... I didn't think it would have affected you like that."

"I was in love with you, Gio." says Sophia, "Of course it affected me like that."

Something in Gio's eyes softened, and it looked a lot like regret.

"You were in love with me?"

"I'd think it was pretty freaking obvious," Sophia admits grudgingly. "You're a flirt, and a good one at that."

He remained staring at his feet for a few moments. He looks up, and that same regret showed amongst the blue of his eyes.

"Were, in love?"

She understood what he was asking. And when she sighed, and confirmed, "Were." Part of Sophia's soul shattered.

Because Gio was her first love. But she had to let him go.

Because she told Pedri she'd wait for him.

Gio pauses a moment. He says, "I understand."

Sophia looks up at him. "You do?"

"Yeah," he says. "I lost my chance. Your type's footballer's now, right?"

The comment seemed to be aimed to belittle Gio himself, rather than Sophia.

"I—" Sophia's mouth opened to speak, however the door shuffling open caught her in doing so.

It was her mother, Maria, bustling in to the kitchen. Startling on seeing her daughter with the tall waiter under the employment of her husband.

"Oh, hey guys," Maria says to them, evidently coming to fill up some water in the kitchen by the jug in her hand. She frowns a little, because it was Sophia and Gio. "Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Um, no, thanks, Mum," Sophia clears her throat. She takes that as her cue to get out of that stupid situation. "I'll see you later, Gio."

She slips out the door with another word, and back into the party like nothing had happened. Judging by the way Gio lapsed into easy conversation regarding how good the food was, he planned on doing the same.

Walking back into the party, she takes a deep breath, sliding her too-long front layers behind her ears. She really needed to get them cut again.

"Mija, are you okay?"

The voice made her head turn and her dad, Vincent, approached her, frowning.

"Oh, hey, Dad," she replies. "I'm alright."

Vincent squinted his eyes in a way that told Sophia he didn't quite believe her.

"I saw you and Gio go in there, Soph. I know... you said you're over him. But I'm your father, it's my job to worry. Is it something I need to worry about?"

Sophia presses her lips into a thin line.

"I don't know, Papa," she sighs. "I... tried to be friends with him, and I know we are friends. He... the timing is just really bad."

"Timing?" Vincent asks, and Sophia realises how vague her answer was.

"Yeah, because... he likes me, now, and I liked him last year, and I don't want to... go back there. As good friends we are, that's all I want us to be. Now."

Vincent nods. "I understand, Mija," he says. "Do you... want me to do anything?"

"It's okay, Papa," Sophia smiles. "We'll sort it out. Thank you."

Vincent puts an arm around Sophia's shoulders, pulling her in for a side hug. "Anytime, Mija. As much as I like him as a person, you're my daughter. You're always more important."

Sophia kisses her dad's cheek in response.

Vincent chuckles. "It appears your friend Pedri has a new admirer."

"Huh?" Sophia frowns, oblivious to what her dad was talking about, until she looked to where he'd been looking.

It was Pedri, sitting at a table, Rosie sitting on the table in front of him. Just him and Rosie, and the newly-one year old couldn't stop smiling, but not as much as the Canarian in front of her as he tickled her in the side and teasingly waved her toy rattle out of her grip. Then Pedri squeezed Rosie tight as she threw her tiny arms around his neck, and Sophia melted right there and then, because she knows how good of a hugger he is.

"Dios mio, it's adorable," says Sophia. She clears her throat, and looks at her dad. "I'm, er..."

Vincent saw Sophia's indicative finger in the direction of Pedri and Rosie, and chuckles. "Have fun, niña."

Sophia heads in the direction of Pedri's table, and sits on the wooden bench, her back against the table. "I hope I'm not interrupting a sweet moment."

"Rather unfortunate that you are," responds Pedri, a wide smile overcoming his face at Sophia's arrival. She'd been busy the whole time, which was understandable, it's her baby sister's first birthday with a tonne of guests, but he's happy to finally get a moment with her. Even despite Rosie being there, her little toy maraca in hand, the bow clip pinning her unevenly-growing hair in place, slipping slowly.

Besides, she's the birthday girl. She gets to call the shots.

Leaning over Pedri's arms — that were currently keeping Rosie stable seated on top of the table — Sophia fixes the clip, stroking the baby's head as she finishes. Pedri was still smiling.

"She really likes you," says Sophia.

"Obviously," Pedri jokes, before nudging Sophia with the arm lingering on the table. "She takes after her big sister."

"Yeah, there's no disagreeing there," Sophia laughs, but the sureness of it all brought warmth to Pedri's face. "You're staying with Ansu, tonight, right? You and Fer?"

"Yeah," says Pedri. "We're getting the train back in two days. Just worked out cheaper that way, and we've both got those days off anyways."

"Huh," says Sophia.

"What?"

"What?"

"What's that face?" asks Pedri.

"My face?"

"No, like, you're thinking."

"Palmero, our brains are designed to think."

"Scheming may be more appropriate, then," Pedri says instead.

"I'm not scheming." Sophia rolls her eyes.

Pedri narrows his.

"Alright," she concedes. "I just got an idea. Since you just said you have a bit more time in Sevilla... well, Clarissa has a game tomorrow. Against Barca Femeni B, actually. I was gonna go it solo, but... if you're in the area, do you want to come along? We can grab a couple of drinks after, or something?"

Pedri pauses for a moment, and the slight hint of a smile clicks into place on his face.

"Sophia Adams-Diaz, are you asking me on a date?"

Sophia couldn't help the laughter that followed. Gaining composure relatively quickly, "Pedro Gonzalez Lopez, are you stalling from accepting?"

"That is some confidence that I will accept."

"Be honest, lad, you would not want to reject all this."

Pedri, stalled on how to reply, runs his tongue over his teeth. "No, you're right, actually. You are pretty irresistible, Verdiblanco. You and your Henrik Larsson crush."

Sophia sighs, but smiles begrudgingly. "I can't believe my mum told you. This is a betrayal." She adds, "C'mon, don't leave me hanging on my offer."

"There's no question about it," Pedri smiles. "Of course I'll come to the game. I feel like I need to see Clarissa play at this rate."

"Buzzing for it," Sophia grins.

Pedri returns the grin, but for a moment, it falters. "I don't mean to be nosey, honest."

Sophia frowns. "Go on."

"I... I saw you, earlier..." Pedri says slowly. "Go into the back, with... Giovani. I just, you know. Was wondering if everything's okay."

"Oh," says Sophia. He saw that? She gets why he's asking the question, especially now that they were going on a date... and how it'd look, and because he was Pedri...

"It's not an issue, um," Sophia assured him. Because it wasn't. "I just had to clear the air between us. That... I didn't want to change us being mates."

Pedri nods. "... And him?"

"Nothing to be worried about, honest." Then, in the most lighthearted, teasing manner possible: "Unless you are worried?"

He frowns mockingly. "Totally not."

Sophia chuckles... and inches her hand close to his, resting on the table. He met her eyes at the moment she laced their fingers together.

"I meant it when I said I would wait for you, Palmero," says Sophia. "Nothing Gio could say... nothing has changed. Thank you for coming today."

Whether it was discrete or not, Pedri didn't care in the moment. He lifted their laced hands, and kisses her knuckles.

"Thank you for waiting, Sophia."

Her lips spread into a smile, and it was at the exact moment Clarissa, hair in dark brown waves, and with a grin, takes Rosie into her arms.

"Afraid I need to steal the child," says Clarissa.

"You monster," Pedri jokes.

Clarissa shrugs innocently, as Sophia says, with a nod in Pedri's direction, "You have another spectator for tomorrow, by the way."

"Really?" Clarissa beams. "Be warned, though, as much as I like you, I will not lower my game just because you play for the same team as my opponent."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Pedri chuckles. "You know my first Barca goal was against Betis?"

"Don't ruin it," Clarissa laughs, speeding away with Rosie on her hip.

***

The party had raved on. By rave, we mean that the children's DJ had eventually gotten started on the party games, and while Rosie couldn't join due to susceptibility of being stood on by other kids (she's one), the winners of musical chairs, pass the parcel and pin the tail were the least of of those who'd enjoyed the games. The party carried on until the sunset, where slowly the many guests and their children begun to file out, being given parting gifts of party favours Sophia and Clarissa had constructed the previous night.

"Thank you guys for coming," says Sophia, faced with Fernando and Ansu at the garden archway they'd entered in. "Really lovely to meet you, again, Ansu. Good luck with your recovery."

"Gracias," Ansu grins. "I'll hopefully be seeing you once you're back in Barca?" He said it with an indicative look towards Pedri, at Sophia's side, the indication an explanation as to why he'd be seeing her again.

"We'll see how things go," Sophia laughs. "See you tomorrow, Palmero—?"

Pedri was frowning, and it was then that he remembered, "I don't have my jacket. I must have left it back there."

"I'll help look," says Sophia.

"Try not to get lost," Fernando smirks, and his younger brother flips him off as a response.

Back in the party, where the catering staff were picking up remains from the vacant tables — as nearly everyone had left, or were in the process of leaving — Sophia asks, "D'you remember where you left it?"

Manoeuvring slightly away from Pedri, she checks the table she remembered him sitting at, the bench beside the photo booth,

"I had it with me when we went to the photo booth," he remembers. "I took it off, and then... I gave it to Ansu, and he set it down somewhere."

"Did you check the water founta— Wait, found it!"

Spotting it in a pile on the water fountain edge, Sophia lifts the folded jacket from the stone water fountain, and shakes it out in her hands. Carhartt. "It's a nice jacket, Palme—"

Hands on her waist interrupted Sophia from her words. Lips on hers made her forget completely. That, or the gentleness with which he pressed her against the water fountain, her knees giving way being pressed back against the stone. Or because of Pedri, and the handsome scent on his clothes. Her hand holding the jacket clung to Pedri's side, and the other slid up to his face, holding the junction between his face and neck.

"Whoa," she says. "No one's ever been so happy for me to find their jacket."

"Hm," Pedri chuckles, dropping his forehead against hers. "That's one way to put it."

"Another?" Sophia asks, hand trailing down his the skin of his arm.

"Maybe I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you first."

"The verdict?" Sophia asks, but her heart was pounding. If Pedri moved any closer, he'd be able to feel it.

"Absolutely magnificent."

***

hi guys

im gonna be honest havent checked this for grammar for spelling for nuffin it's time for bed 😫

such a cute chapter to write fr i love soph and pedri sfm,, I THOUGHT AB THIS AND call it what you want by taylor swift & the blue by gracie abrams are the perfect songs for soph&pedri don't even come at me for this u all know this is perfect 😫

barcas injuries are so ridiculous btw pedri dembouz araujo de jong and NOW CHRISTENSEN?!? literal depression hours something go right for this team

also ramadan Mubarak to any of my fellow Muslims hope we all have a blessed and peaceful month🫶

gn guys ily all