𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑
Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader
Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.
A/N: Check out the masterlist for the first two parts if you haven’t read them already! Also, thank you so much for the kind comments on my posts, they mean more to me than you’ll ever know!
Warnings: this one’s a bit more fluffy, still a very reserved Trent tho
Word Count: 1.9k words (7 mins reading avg)
The first match to kickstart the club’s season was undeniably close.
The pressure had been mounting palpably in the last few weeks, evident in the increasingly focused, sharper, and heavier training sessions.
You didn’t have a personal experience with them, more so the ones that Conor had been complaining about.
But despite being unable to travel to the US, you’d personally assumed that preseason had been a success.
You’d caught highlights when they dropped and heard murmurs of staff satisfaction with certain performances circulating around the centre.
You hadn’t been able to get many sessions in though, only a touch few with Conor, as he was your top priority given his age.
He’d done remarkably well the previous season under Jurgen when top performances were needed, but working on his mental stability was always a key factor and one of extreme importance.
"Congrats," you smiled warmly as the Irishman approached, his own smile mirroring yours. You acknowledged his successful time in America.
“You must be feeling great,” you remarked, smiling gently.
His dimples were evident as he nodded, a sense of fulfilment telling in his stance. “Yeah, yeah. It was good, enjoyed it proper.”
You let him continue on, giving brief welcomes and some hugs to the players as they piled in one by one within the hour before their training began.
You felt a pang of frustration as Trent walked directly past you, refusing to even meet your eyes as he acknowledged only a few of the staff who were standing off to the side.
Dismissing it, you turned your attention to Wataru as he approached next.
You needed to focus on the players who were working with you. It was crucial, especially as the season was fast-approaching.
Or so you kept telling yourself.
“Y/N,” you glanced back, a smile forming as you spotted Arne trying to catch your attention.
“How are you doing?” He asked as you fell into step with him, continuing to walk down the corridor towards the gym where he was headed.
“Good, yeah. You?” You kept it short and sweet, fully aware that he was a busy man.
“Doing okay. About your request you sent before preseason,” Arne continued, prompting both of you to stop and face each other, a hopeful anticipation in the air.
“It’s fine with me and Lee doesn’t have any issues with it. But, if there is no improvement, then the sessions will need to resume as planned. Okay?” He nodded affirmatively.
“Yes, of course. I-I understand. Thank you.” You replied gratefully, your appreciation evident as he patted your shoulder before leaving you.
The city was buzzing with activity as match day quickly approached. Red flares blazing around the city, shirts and scarves already adorned the day before.
The players were being put through their paces in the final training session before the big game. Having an hour free in the mornings after your request was approved meant you could utilise it in a different way.
You observed the session from the sidelines, making mental notes of the players' demeanours and interactions. Trent was, as usual, intensely focused. Every movement, every touch of the ball deliberate.
After the session had concluded for the day, you made your way to the changing rooms. Some were discussing tactics, sharing jokes, and some were lost in their thoughts, mentally preparing.
You approached Conor, who was pulling his boots off his feet, and sat beside him.
He looked up, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah, I think so. Just need to stay focused."
"Remember what we talked about," you reminded him gently. "Always be ready, visualise your game, see yourself succeeding."
Conor nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He raised his fist, and you met it with a bump. "Thanks, Y/N. It helps, you know."
A wave of relief washed over you. Reminding yourself that you were doing a good job was one thing, but hearing it from someone you always tried to help was another.
"I'm glad," you said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Upon hearing Arne clasp his hands together, forcing everyone to quiet down and hear the gaffer out, you silently gave Curtis and Wataru a nod before slipping out of the room.
As you turned, you nearly collided with Trent. He tutted, sidestepping in order to slide past you and into the changing rooms. You'd hoped that once he was informed of your approved request, he'd be slightly less frowny.
But seemingly, the opposite was happening.
You had just finished Curtis' report when a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Mustering a tired smile, you called out, "come in."
Lee popped his head through the door, and you rose from your chair. "Hey, everything okay?"
He entered the office, closing the door behind him but not completely. With his hands raised in mock surrender, he said, "yeah, yeah, all good. I just uh wanted to ask if you caught Trent."
"I thought you approved my request?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"I did," he confirmed, stepping forward. "But I saw Trent hanging around your office just after training."
"What? Why?" you asked, bewildered. You tried to think back to earlier, but all you remembered was that you were definitely not in your office.
"He didn't say. Didn't seem happy, though." Lee shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight on to either feet.
"Not much difference there, then." You sighed, placing your hands on your hips.
"I'm confused. If he knew about the request, why would he show up?" You asked, and the senior consultant shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest.
You both thought about it for a moment until Lee spoke again, "are you sure Arne let him know?"
Your head tilted, mouth slightly parting as realisation dawned on you.
"I'm pretty sure Arne didn't because you were meant to," you said, trying to keep your tone casual despite the frustration creeping in.
The first session Trent had supposedly shown up for, you weren't even there. Suddenly, his avoidance of you after you'd exited the changing rooms made a lot more sense. He must’ve just come down from your office.
"I was?" Lee asked, clearly taken aback.
You let your head fall back in exhaustion but slowly nodded moments later. Shuffling through the papers on your desk, you found the one you needed and handed it to Lee. He scanned over the text, before he looked up again.
“Y/N, I feel terrible. I can go find him." Remorse painted itself across his features.
"It's okay," you replied. "It's better if he hears it from me." You aimed to justify poorly.
Because you had a very successful track record of not pissing Trent off, obviously.
Later in the day, you found yourself back in the canteen, grabbing a quick coffee.
It was well past noon, but with the mountain of reports you needed to write about the players' psychological states before tomorrow, caffeine was your only ally.
Trent walked in, looking for a snack. Being on the bottom of his 'I don't want to talk to you' list every day meant the outcome of your conversations with him were quite forseeable.
Deciding to address the elephant in the room, you walked up and pushed all doubts to the back of your mind. You reached out and touched his arm to get his attention, and he reacted immediately.
He turned to face you, and you lowered your hand slowly.
“Can we talk for a second?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
His jaw hardened. “I'm busy.”
"I promise it won't take long." You countered.
"Considering I don't care about your promises, that don’t mean shit to me." He's on a roll with the irony, you thought to yourself.
You glanced at a sympathetic Carol who was standing on the other side of the serving station.
"Please?" You blinked slowly, praying to the powers that be to instill some patience in the man.
He picked up a bag of trail mix, before watching your face for a few seconds. You were half-expecting him to tell you to eat shit, but you were wrong.
An unusually pleasant surprise.
You nodded to a quieter corner and led the way, with him following behind before you whisked around.
"I'm so sorry." You fiddled with the cup of coffee in your hand.
Past his hardened anger, you'd felt bad for him. The courage to have shown up only to be let down isn't a feeling that would've altered his perception of you.
"I don't care." His gaze bore into yours, unyielding.
You frowned slightly. "I do. I told you I'd keep trying to reach you and-"
His eyes travelled down to your fidgeting fingers before dragging back up to your face. He sighed, clearly bored.
"Lee was meant to tell you," you paused, gathering your words. His eyes narrowed.
A flush of guilt coloured your cheeks. "I put in a request before preseason to cancel our sessions together."
You looked up, trying to gauge his reaction. The crease between his brows was prominent. "It was approved, and Lee was supposed to tell you, but he must've forgotten."
It hurt to let someone down. As a chronic people-pleaser, this likely frustrated you way more than it did Trent.
He leaned against the wall behind him, bringing one knee up. He crossed his arms but his eyes lightened. "So, you're telling me that..."
He paused to pop an almond into his mouth. "You admitted defeat?"
Either he was smirking, or you were being incredibly delusional.
You shook your head. "No, I never gave up on you. I thought maybe you needed a different approach." Explaining your previous actions felt pathetically awkward.
His lips pressed together. "Or maybe you just couldn’t handle it."
You rolled your eyes, your features still guilt-ridden. "Does that make you happy or something?"
His eyes roved over your features, and for a moment, his expression softened.
"Oh, you have no idea, psychologist."
You swallowed, feeling a flutter of surprise. Your eyes widened slightly, the gentleness in his features unexpected.
Just then, Curtis walked by and caught the tail end of your conversation. “Are you two flirting or fighting?” He teased, winking at his Scouse counterpart.
Your expression didn't change, but Trent looked over, staring at him. “Can’t you tell the difference, mate? Your missus must have a hard time putting up with you.” He remarked a little too quickly.
Curtis' mouth fell open as some of the players snickered at the exchange. To your surprise, Trent let out a genuine laugh - an unfamiliar sound that retained your attention.
He pushed off the wall and ambled over, casually draping an arm over his friend's shoulder.
On another day, maybe you would've joined into the jokes that were being thrown around but you were oddly rendered silent.
His almost playful disposition was a complete contrast to the tension that had clouded your interactions since the day you'd met.
It was almost as if he genuinely believed he was rid of you, and this moment of levity was his way of signalling relief.
The casual banter, although lighthearted, felt jarring. Without another word, you walked out of the canteen, the enigma of his sudden change nagging at you.
As you exited, Trent’s gaze followed you, his eyes tracing your retreating figure. He seemed poised to follow you, a sign of a subtle, perhaps unconscious shift in his stance.
His eyes lingered on your departing form, as if grappling with an unspoken urge to either see where you were going or say something to you, though he wasn't quite sure what.
Yet only as he started to move, Curtis' voice cut through the moment. "Oi, where you off to?" Trent shook his head, a half-smile still playing on his lips as he rejoined the group.
Oddly, his attention remained fixed on the door for just a bit longer, as if expecting you to turn back around, before he fully immersed himself back into the conversation.
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