CILLIAN MURPHY

I tossed and I turned, but sleep couldn't get to me. I ended up staring at the ceiling. Even though we have been shooting for weeks I experienced difficulties with sleeping. Take the night when I danced with Diana as an example. I tapped my phone to see the time. 4 A.M. I let out a deep sigh before pushing away my duvet.
     I pulled a hoodie over my head and made sure to bring along my keys. I stuffed my hands in my pockets while I strolled through the halls A light drew my attention, a light that led me to the fitness room. I scowled, wondering who'd be awake at this hour. I glanced through the windows and there I saw a familiar figure.
"Of course, it is Diana," I muttered. I was hesitating whether I should walk in. She was stretching, in front of the mirrors. I walked up to the door, but I halted. The key was ready at the lock, but something held me back. I turned away, eventually not wishing to disturb her. She was focused on the Olympics, which stirred an idea. I returned to my room, where I clicked the light buttons. I searched for a piece of paper to write on.

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓓𝓲𝓪𝓷𝓪,

𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍.

It has been weeks since Diana and I saw each other for the last time. I hate to admit it, but I haven't stopped thinking of her. She consumes every brain cell I have left to spare. I have dreamt about her nearly every night. I caught myself red-handed on playing 'Every Breath You Take' but that tune ... That makes me think of her somehow and I play it on repeat.
I mentally prepare to approach Christopher for the thoughts of visiting the World Championship in California. Did I search for the location? Yes, I did. I wasn't joking when I said I wanted to watch a competition of hers, the moment she suggested watching a competition.
"Chris? Can I talk to you?" I question, suppressing my nerves. My pulse pounds in the veins of my neck. Christopher lifts his head from his script and removes his reading glasses. "Of course," he answers, gesturing that he is listening. The nervous feeling breaks free within my body as if a brand new shop is opened and people are desperate to enter.
"I-" How am I going to explain this? Christopher's forehead creases, chewing on his glasses' leg. "Diana and I shared a conversation about her sport," I continue. "And she suggested I should watch a competition to visualize what she had explained. So, I was wondering when the World Championships are." I carefully watch Christopher's expression. However, I couldn't see much change in his eyes.
"This weekend," he answers. His expression remains blank, but his forehead creases once again. He is about to ask a question or fire me. And he does ask me a question instead of firing me.
"Cillian, are you romantically interested in my daughter?" he questions and as if my heart couldn't beat any faster, it does. I open my mouth to lie, but he already raises his finger at me and adds: "Don't dare you lie to me, boy." I shut my mouth, carefully choosing my words. It has no use in lying to him, I'd rather not waste my chance with Diana.
     I sigh, closing my eyes for a brief moment. "I indeed am romantically interested in your daughter," I admit. "However, she has made clear that she is not ready for any kind of attachment because of her focus on the Olympics and I respect that. I only and simply wish to support her." As Christopher remains silent, my head thinks of the worst scenarios possible. Either fired or not able to see her again.
Christopher's silence seems to endure, on my part. It feels like ages and the nervous knot in my stomach tightens with the second. The scowl on his forehead disappears before the corners of his mouth quirk into a smile. He lays a hand on my shoulder and nods. "I appreciate that, Cillian. You seem like a gentleman who would treat my daughter right," he smiles. A relief falls off my shoulders as I sigh in relief.
     "I will take you to the competition, son," he adds before leaving me behind. Son? Did he just call me 'son'?

⸻

"She has taught you the basics of gymnastics?" Christopher questions, entering a great hall. My eyes wander around and I see different equipment. "In a rapid way," I answer. Christopher and I search for seats until he suddenly waves.
     "My wife and child," he comments and there goes my heartbeat. My heart accelerates as I silently follow him to their seats. I watch them interact, his wife must have seen him for the first time after a while because their embrace was intense. As Christopher turns to his daughter, his wife turns to me.
     "Hello, I'm Emma. Christopher's wife and I assume you are Cillian?" she questions gently. I send her a faint smile and nod. "Christopher had told me all about you," she beams. She is a kind woman, however, I feel like an intruder. I get pulled out of my thoughts by a child's voice. My eyes shift to a little girl and I crouch.
"I am Flora," she introduces, extending her small hand. "I am Cillian," I smile, shaking her hand. "Are you here to see Diana?" she continues, to which I nod. "My sister is soo good," she exaggerates with a smile. "I believe you," I chuckle.
"Will you marry my sister?" she asks innocently. Will I marry her sister? My eyebrows rise as I tilt my head. I fail to suppress my surprise and before I can answer, Emma interrupts. "You cannot ask that, dearest," she corrects gently and turns to me. "I am sorry, Cillian." I chuckle and wave away her apology. "It is alright. She is young, how young to be exact?" I question. "Four," she smiles.

I watch the podium with the screens. The commentator announces the countries. "I present you, the Netherlands!" People start applauding as the Dutch team appears on the podium. They greet us before gracefully walking away. It goes on and on. Country after country.
"The United Kingdom!" My attention is drawn to the podium. Six women walk on the podium. They are too far away from me, so my eyes shift to the screen. My heartbeat accelerates at the sight of her. She obviously looked different since I'd last seen her. However, beautiful nonetheless.
"Diana," Flora screeches and it is adorable. I carefully listen to the commentary. "The United Kingdom starts on the uneven bars. The following rotation: Imogen Cairns, Diana Nolan, Becky Downie, and Rebecca Wing." My attention draws to the uneven bars, occupied by one of the women.
After several minutes, their one last touch is over. Or so was I told by the commentary. I watch the first gymnast on the uneven bars and my mouth falls open. Is Diana doing this as well? Speaking of her, where is she? I tear my eyes off the uneven bars to search for Diana. Then I noticed her blonde hair, this time wrapped in a tight bun. She walks onto the podium, focus written all over her face. She waits while her coach is talking to her.
Then finally, it is her time. She greets the judges and faces the bar. My heartbeat rises and my pulse pounds in my ear. She must have done this a million times, but I find it scary and nerve-wracking. She starts on the highest bar, flying over to the lower one. Jesus bloody Christ. My heart skips several beats. She then flies back to the higher bar and I have trouble keeping my mouth closed because this is insane what she does. She dismounts and lands. She smiles widely and greets the judges one more time. She runs up to her coach and embraces her in a hug. Me and the rest of her family clap. Holy fucking shit.
"Magnificent, right?" Christopher questions. I lean toward him, but my eyes don't leave her. "I'm speechless," I admit, flabbergasted by her performance. It makes me fall for her more, almost crawling back to her. You sound so obsessed, my brain scolds my heart.

I had been watching in awe at the women, especially at Diana. They rotate to their last apparatus, the vault. It has been a few hours but I wasn't bored at all. The vault is close to us and where the women land, that is where we are seated.
     "Diana's turn," Christopher mumbles. I notice his nervousness as I shift my eyes to the vault. Once again, my heartbeat rises. She speeds and I don't know how to describe it but it is magnificent nonetheless. "Yes!" Christopher hisses, balling his hand into a fist. He turns to me and comments that she only needs one more time. I nod and watch her walk back to her spot.
     She takes a deep breath, looking down at the floor. She then starts speeding up to go at it for one last more time. She lands, but something strange happens. Her knee snapped in an unnatural way. The audience gasped as Diana presented to the judges. One of her knees was bent and she grimaced. My heart drops at the sight of her holding back her tears. She limps but her coach stops her, telling her to sit down. The audience is dead silent. I could hear her sobs from my seat and my heart sank. Everyone knows her dream of the Olympics just shattered into a million pieces.
     "Let's go," Emma implies. I rose onto my feet and as if she could sense it, she glanced in my direction. My eyes meet hers, us both knowing her dream has gone down the drain. She glances away as if she is ashamed. The audience gives her loud applause once she is supported on her way out. I swallow the lump in my throat, not knowing if she wants to see me.

"Do you want to take Flora back to the hotel?" Christopher questions his wife. "I don't think it is wise if we all approach her." Emma nods and takes Flora by her hand. I hesitate, not knowing my place in this situation. I uncomfortably shift from one leg to the other.
"I am not sure if she wishes to see me," I hesitate, however, Christopher waves away my comment. "If you share the chemistry indeed, then she will need your support," he blurts. "Perhaps, more than ours." A heat creeps up my cheeks, and I glance at Emma for a brief moment. She sends me an encouraging nod but then her eyes averted from mine.
"Diana!" Emma gasps. We all follow Emma's gaze and I see Diana clothed in her tracksuit and supported by medical staff. Her eyes meet mine and she glances away. I walk up to her, even though she doesn't want to see me. I nod to the medics, wrapping her arms around my neck. She clings to my body while she softly sobs. I gently try to soothe her before telling her that I'm about to lift her in my arms. She hides her face in the crook of my neck.
"It is alright, dearest." Emma walks up to us. I feel her shake her head against my skin, which I repeat for Emma. I don't think she wants to hear anything since her dream is shattered. All her work has been, in her eyes, for nothing. "I think we should head to the ER." To which they agree.
"I am with you," I whisper, pressing a kiss on her hair. "I am going to take care of you."

"How is the pain?" I whisper. She lifts her head to look at me and it breaks my heart to see her like this.
"Unbearable," she whispers, her voice trembling. "It hurts immensely," she adds. I wipe away her tears and slightly try to fix her makeup. She sends me a faint smile but that smile fades as quickly as it appears.
     "I'm sorry you had to see that," she whispers. "Are you mad? I was blown off my seat when I first saw you perform," I answer. "She can sing. She can dance. She is a high-performance athlete. She is beautiful. How many more secrets can she keep?" I add, teasing. I nuzzle my nose against hers, causing her to chuckle. It does me well to hear her chuckle.
"I don't," she answers. "I read your letter yesterday," she adds softly, only audible to me. My heartbeat accelerates, and my eyes meet hers. Her eyes I could drown in if I didn't watch out. "Good girl," I whisper, the corner of my mouth twitching in the slightest smile. She averts her eyes from mine.
     "You wrote sweet and encouraging words," she whispers, meeting my gaze once again. "I didn't dare to hope for your presence-" "And yet, there I was," I whisper. "Socialising with your little sister," I added, chuckling. Another chuckle ripples from her throat. Her father pulls over in the parking lot. Before we could both realize it, I was carrying her into the hospital. It is selfish of me to think what I am thinking now. I look down at her and only one thought crosses my mind.
     I wanna be yours.