"Don't go, please."

Zarine stared at him, suddenly very aware of every breath she was taking. He's asking me to stay. Breathe in. He's asking me to stay. Breath out. Her eyes finally dropped and drifted away, her jaw set sadly, "Cristiano..."

He got up and walked towards her side of the table, "No, I really mean it. Don't go. We-we have something amazing here. I love you so much and-"

She got up, the chair scraping back loudly and heaved a sigh, "I love you too, Cris. You know I do. Always have. Always will. But..."

He frowned slightly and Zarine could see disappointment, hurt, dismay and a million other heart-wrenching emotions pass through his otherwise warm brown eyes. The truth was he didn't let people get close to him very often. He was naturally friendly and a great company but he himself admitted he was truly close to only a few people and those he was close to, he cherished them. It had been tough leaving his family behind at a young age. He had cried those nights then, away from everyone who was familiar, everyone he cared about. Over the years, he had learnt that it was the way of his life. Travel, change, newness were a circumstance to him.

He hadn't realised but the short time he'd spent with Zarine had given him the fixity, the sense of security and an actual bond of happiness and completeness he had never had ever before. It was disastrous for him to even imagine living without her. It was as if he had been a a jagged jigsaw piece all his life and she was the only one who fit along his edges, together they were a complete picture. This wonderful girl, with her warmest smiles, bright eyes, dark unkempt hair, funny thoughts, wholesome conversations and passionate kisses...she was the one he wanted to spend his whole life with. He reached for her hand but for once, she didn't respond. She walked away, deep in thought.

"But what?" He finally asked, his voice soft, sad. She doesn't want to stay. She doesn't want to stay. Oh God, she's leaving. His mind was already racing over the millions of miles that we're opening up between them. No, please.

She sighed, "It's just...I can't-It's so difficult to explain...I finally have a job. I have worked so hard for so long and it's finally paying off."

Cristiano bit his lower lip.

She turned around when he didn't speak and one look was enough to tell her that he was upset.

He finally spoke up, "So, you don't want me because you love your job more than me."

She gave him a look, "C'mon, you know it's not like that."

"Then what is it like? Please tell me because I don't understand. I don't understand why you don't want to stay. Is it because you're tired of me? Is it because the Cristiano you loved was just a fantasy and the real thing didn't match up to your expectations because if it's that, I'm sorry. I really tried. I tried my best and more to show you how much I love you and to hope that I'll be worthy of being loved by you, worthy of being the Cristiano you say you love." Another, more bitter thought crossed his mind, "Or is it because Felix can watch Real Madrid matches with you while I can't? You seem to have really enjoyed his company but if you were indeed thinking of leaving me, you could have given a little heads-up, you know. So that I wouldn't have made a complete fool of myself asking you to stay."

"HOW CAN YOU EVEN SAY THAT? ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?"

"Why don't you admit it? You don't need to pretend, Zarine," he said.

For a second, Zarine had the horrible fear of feeling a lump coming to her throat. HOLD YOUR COOL FOR FFS, PLEASE. She held her head up and asked, "Why is it so difficult for you to understand what this job means to me? I don't know what kind of person you think I am but let me tell you, I don't pretend, I don't act. I'm telling you like it is. I have a life, a family, friends back in India. You can't ask me to suddenly leave all that out of the blue. I don't want to say this but whatever you're saying right now is pure stupidity."

He looked as if he had been slapped, "Oh forgive me that God didn't grant everyone your level of intelligence in life."

She went on, "I thought you would understand seeing how much you care about your own career."

"That's what I am saying. You don't need to labour away when you're with me," he said. "You can do whatever you like-"

"Does the possibility that I'd actually like to work, to give lectures, to read more, maybe even write, to have my own independence ever, even remotely, occur to you? It doesn't. Because you're being hella selfish. When you came to India, I could have asked you to stay, to not leave, if I'd wanted to. God knows, I didn't want you to leave but you have your own life, your own career, your own responsibilities and I respected that. Why can't you do the same for me?"

He snapped back, "If you'd asked even once I would have left everything to spend even a second more with you."

"But I didn't," she shouted. "You know what, I'm done with arguing. Talk to me when you are in a normal frame of mind." She made to walk upstairs but Cristiano's voice stopped her, "I'm done too."

An icy feeling gripped her heart. No, no, no, this was just an argument. He couldn't mean what I think he means. Our first argument and we break? Our first test and we fail?

She was shocked and speechless. She hadn't known how they would make up after the argument but she'd felt they would. Except now we won't.

Cristiano shrugged ruefully, devastation evident on his face, "I-I'm sorry but, with you, I was looking for something real. I believed what we had was real but you don't. I can't-I just can't."

The lump in her throat was unbearable now and she was sure that if she blinked tears would fall thick and fast but it wasn't sadness as much as anger, as much as disappointment, as much as shock that comprised those unshed tears. Those words he'd uttered just now were meant to hurt and unknowingly, Zarine wanted to hurt him back now, hurt him with the same words that he'd thrown at her because a terrible thought had entered her mind suddenly, a thought planted by the woman she'd met yesterday, who's words had rung in her ears ever since.

He's doing all this because I'm going. He doesn't want to go through the long distance thing. He never loved me. If he had loved me he would have understood. He wouldn't have given up even if he couldn't understand. No, the Cristiano she loved would have tried. This person in front of her wasn't the one she had loved. He wanted this fight, didn't he? He wanted to break up with me because I never meant anything more to him than a few days fun. Something to laugh about in the long run as an unlucky mistake. He never loved me.

All she said was, half-aloud, half to herself, "Ashley was right."

He froze, "What?"

She replied coldly, "She told me that you were like this. Immature, unloving and pretentious. She told me that you didn't, you wouldn't love me. So, tell me, Cristiano, truthfully, was I really just a rebound for you? Does it feel nice to play with someone's feelings like this?" She gulped, "I was so damn wrong about you. I thought you were perfect but it was my mistake. No one's perfect, least of all you. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you, babe, I'm busy being good enough for myself."

Cristiano ran a hand through his hair, confused at what she was saying, ashamed of having even suggested breaking up and now, scared of losing her. He reached forward for her wrist, "What are you saying? I don't know what you've been talking about with Ashley but that's not true. I tried to make things work with her but we didn't work out. You, on the other hand, you, I really love you."

She pulled her wrist out of his grip, "Say it when you mean it."

He watched her walk upstairs and he was aware that this was it. She was walking away from him, forever, and the realisation was poison for him. It physically hurt him to realise that they were breaking, an abyss was opening between them and if he lost sight of her at the other side, he knew he would fall into the darkness. He had to tell her that she meant more to him than anything in the world. He had to mend this. But how?

A desperate idea snaked its way into his head and he ran upstairs, into her room. She was packed. She hadn't changed, just put on her shoes. Her face was tired but emotionless, only the redness of her eyes betrayed what she truly felt and what wouldn't have he given to turn back time and never make her cry.

"Marry me?" he blurted.

She looked at him and laughed coldly, "You're so ugh, I can't think of an adjective bad enough."

He was stunned.

"What? You just broke up with me and now you think we'll get married? Is that how you fix things? Well, your fixing sucks," she said, her lower lip wobbling, her laughter dying into a sadness that seemed to swallow her. You only asked me the question because you want me to stay, not because you really want to marry me," she stepped past him, dragging along her suitcase. "I didn't think you'd be so shallow."

Did she even think about us? Did she give a second of thought to our relationship? How was it all supposed to work out according to her? He let out a breath, "Whatever."

She agreed, "Y-yeah, whatever."

[DO YOU HEAR THAT? THAT IS THE SOUND OF MY HEART BREAKING INTO A MILLION PIECES T_T

Please don't give up #Zariano, please don't break up *cries some more*

OH SHIT DID YOU GUYS WATCH EL CLASICO!? HOLY SHIT CHAPTER 43-44 BASICALLY PREDICTED THE WHOLE MATCH. It's so creepy. We wrote Pique, Benzema and Cristiano would score goals. We even wrote that Gareth would assist Cristiano. How did we even manage to predict that!!

Guys, we know that some of you may be feel that Zarine is a bitch for doing what she's done BUT SHE'S NOT. We know that there are hundreds of fanfics out there where the footballer asks the girl to get married within two days of meeting her and she agrees to just cut off from everything in the world and be his (that said, there are also so many absolutely great and lovely fanfics that make our hearts melt). This story and especially Zarine is meant to remind you that US GIRLS ARE STRONG AF. We don't need a man in our lives to tell us what to do. We have our own lives, our own aspirations that we shouldn't give up for anyone. Love doesn't ask you to give up yourself or murder your identity, it's meant to make you love yourself more and understand your partner, give them the space to do what they want too. All relationships have some problems, some bumps along the road. The best ones figure out how to smooth these bumps. AND THATS WHAT #ZARIANO IS GOING TO DO OKAY? #ZARIANO HAS TO SAIL RIGHHHTTTT?

Vote and comment, let us know what you think <3 ]