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The Observer (Part One)
Summary: Daniel Subašić doesn’t really believe things get better with time. Ever since his friend moved out of the country his life went downhill and he blames all of it on Mario Mandžukić, who made his friend leave in the first place. So now, after 5 years, when he meets Mario’s best friend will he try to get back to him or maybe startto see things in a different light.
Pairings: past Luka Modrić/Mario Mandžukić, eventual Daniel Subašić/Domagoj Vida
Word Count: 2533
Warnings: Depression, thoughts of violence, character acting like an asshole in general
Notes: So after super long time I decided to write a prequel of “I’ll be waiting”(you can find it on my masterlist if you didn’t read it to understand this story better). Just be warned, the story in written in first person and Suba’s action in this part are definitely not good. He is probably going to be frustrating to read. Also as always big shoutout to my beta reader and editor @wordpuddle for making this story readable. I hope y’all will like it(and Suba) more as story progresses :)
It was snowing again. Of course it was, it was winter. I didn't know why I was staring out of the window instead of getting ready. There was an ice skating competition soon. I should do a report about their preparations. I glanced back at the window, watching the snow fall.
I should dress in warm clothes. Wear a winter jacket too, perhaps. But it seemed so unimportant. The cold seemed so far away and I preferred the jacket Luka sent in a package for my birthday. It was a jacket for spring, autumn maybe. Definitely not for winter and definitely not for snow.
It didn't matter in the end, did it? I would be a bit cold, so what? I could picture you frowning at that. You would be angry, you'd tell me not to be stupid. But you-no I wasn’t going to think about you. Luka would probably agree with you, thought. But he also wasn’t here. He moved away and all because of that-stop. That wasn’t a good thing to think about either.
Breathe.
In and out.
I shouldn't be this unreasonably angry after five years. Even Luka had let it go after all this time. Or at least I thought he had. Mario Mandžukić wasn't a topic we discussed. Just a bastard who had broken my best friend's heart.
I grabbed the jacket and my bag and I went outside into the horrible weather. The snow. I never liked it. Snow just meant another day without sun, another day without the warmth I was missing so much. I started the engine and typed a message while I was waiting for the heating to warm me up a bit. I really should have worn a winter jacket.
We just texted these days, Luka and I. He would take one look at my face over Skype and know I wasn't feeling good. He would ask me to go out, maybe see a therapist. He wouldn't see my face, though. So It didn't matter. I put the phone away and started the car.
By the time I arrived they had already started the practice. There were a few people who also came to watch it. That was usual- wait. Was that? No, it couldn't be.
But I'd recognize that tall figure anywhere. Almost the same haircut too. Mario Mandžukić had decided to come back then. After five years. After he had already made sure Luka wouldn't.
I felt the rage building in me. Slow but steady. It seemed unstoppable. I forgot about my job and I just started to push through the crowd to get to him.
I wasn't sure what I was going to do when I reached him. Yell? Punch him in the face? Or just grab his neck and watch his face turn blue? No.
I stopped dead in my tracks, struggling to breathe. I wasn't a violent person. But he deserved it. I couldn't just ignore seeing him there. Could I?
I was so focused on my inner dilemma I couldn't hear someone running towards me until it was too late. It was a strong impact, both I and the man that ran into me fell down, along with my stuff.
That's what I concentrated on first. The content of my bag. The notes, the research I made, all written down. I used to have it all in my head without having to write a word but it seemed the colder it got, the harder it was for me to remember. Not everything though. I could remember the way Luka would always patch Mario up so carefully, without a word of complaint even though I could see how worried he had been.
I finally looked up, meeting the stranger's gaze. His eyes were sharp and for a second I felt like he knew exactly what I was thinking. The feeling was so intense that I almost flinched back.
"I am sorry for running into you. Are you alright?" he asked and helped me gather my stuff.
It was normal, the polite thing to do. His gaze had lost all its edge, all its intensity. I must have imagined it.
"It's fine." My voice sounded odd, even to me. Like an old, rusty instrument that hadn't been used in ages.
He helps me get up too. I am not sure if he was just fast or if time had slowed down around me.
“You spend all your life inside your head, Suba.“ That's what you would have told me. I could picture your face saying it. All scrunched up and worried. I would almost compare it to the way Luka worried about Mario, maybe with your frown more obvious in his case.
"I apologize once again. I am being late for practice," the guy said, shifting from one foot to another.
I finally observed him more carefully. Long blond hair pulled into a ponytail, his clothes obviously comfortable and for practice. He did look familiar. I must have looked him up too when I had done my research but his name was on the tip of my tongue. Maybe I should have asked for an autograph or something and pretend I knew his name all along after he writes it.
But I just nodded my head instead and gave him something close to a smile.
"Don't be late on my account," I said.
Maybe I should really just go out more and try to talk to people. It's not like I didn't have other friends.
He smiled, smirked more accurately.
"It's alright. I can afford to be late every once in a while. I hope you...will enjoy the performances."
His voice was a tad bit different. Was he flirting with me? Or trying to hint I would definitely enjoy his performance? Or maybe something else? I was never quite good at reading social clues. Before I could decide though, he gave a little wave and slipped down to the dressing room.
Shit. The report. I should be writing something, take some notes at least. [I could research him later if I needed to. Not that it was important. He was not that interesting. We only exchanged five sentences at best. I should concentrate on the practice.
And I did. I even forgot what I was going to do before that ice skater crashed into me.
Until I heard his voice, of course. He was shouting something, but I couldn't make out the words. He was smiling, laughing at something.
Another memory. The three of us were sitting in your living room and he was laughing, his eyes fixed on you. Well if I am being honest, you were there too. It was four of us. He had always been so fixated on Luka, he had seemed every bit as much in love with Luka as Luka were with him. I had always assumed Luka hadn't noticed, that he was oblivious to how transparent he was. Maybe I was the one who was wrong. If he was so in love with Luka why did he tell him to leave? Why did he leave?
I let my feet carry me closer to him. I didn't know what to say. I could still feel the rage right below the surface.
I felt the exact moment he spotted me. His face froze up, his smile vanished. What did he see on my face? Anger? Apathy? Maybe even how conflicted I felt? He was my friend too, I suppose. Not my best friend, no, that was Luka. But still. We used to hang out and I tried to keep him out of trouble.
He reminded me of how he had looked back then. His face. He had looked nervous, anxious. Had he already known what he was going to do that night? It had been about a week before it happened. He must have. That's why he was so nervous, so on edge. He knew he was going to break Luka's heart. That he was going to leave without a proper goodbye.
"Hey, Suba. I didn't know you liked ice skating," he said, nervously dragging a hand through his hair.
"I didn't know you had enough nerve to come back like nothing ever happened. But here we are." My voice is surprisingly calm, only with a hint of the jab in it.
If there was anything I could do to hurt him, even a fraction of how he hurt Luka, I'd take it. Bastard.
His face twisted and he flinched back a bit. Yes, it hurt, did it not? Remembering the past. I wished I could forget. But I couldn't. And you deserved to remember, for it to hurt you as much as it hurt me. As much as it hurt him.
"I am not acting as if it never happened. But it's been five years, Daniel. What do you want me to do?" His face is almost apologetic. He looked like it hurt him to say how much time had passed.
Maybe he should have thought about it before he walked out without proper explanation.
"I would have you crawl back to whatever hole you have been in for the last five years and make you stay there. You are lucky Luka isn't in the country because if he was I wouldn't hesitate to punch you in the face."
There. I said it. Some of it. I was clenching my fists too like I was waiting for him to say one wrong word to punch him in the face. Maybe I was going to after all. He definitely deserved it.
Mario opened his mouth ready to say something before a voice from the rink interrupted us.
"What's going on here?" The voice was smooth and vaguely familiar. When I turned my head I recognized the ice skater that bumped into me a few minutes ago.
"It's okay Domo. I can handle it," Mario said, staring at him.
It was the kind of a look you give someone who is supposed to get your point, even if the person standing right next to you doesn't.
Domo. I looked at him again and suddenly I remembered his name. Domagoj Vida. Of course. The one with unusual costumes. Yes, I remembered now.
He looked at me and there is that intense, calculating look again. Was he trying to analyse me, see if I was a threat? Good luck with that.
"You are the reporter I crashed into, aren't you?" His eyes were softer now, less calculating. What was he up to?
I didn't feel like talking to him. He was not the one who deserved my anger. Vida smirked. He looks pleased? By what? The thought that I was going to beat up his friend? Not that I could imagine Mario being a good friend.
Well, that was a lie. I could. I just didn't want to. Because he was a good friend up until the end. But he doesn't deserve me remembering him like that. The end is what leaves a trace. The rest is like winter snow. It melts as season changes.
"How did you know I was a reporter?" It was a stupid question I could admit that. Still, I wanted to see where was he going with this.
"I helped you pick up your stuff remember? Most of your research was about me. I must say I am flattered."
I felt my cheeks burning with shame. Why was I so embarrassed? It was just research. I didn't even remember his name.
"You came here to watch the practice right? You know if you don't punch anyone and guards don't have to escort you outside, we could do an interview after I am done."
It definitely sounded like he was flirting now. Too suggestive to be taken any other way. Why was he flirting with me? Did he think that would stop me from beating Mario up? Hardly.
On the other hand, Mario did look deeply uncomfortable with the idea of me going with his friend somewhere he wouldn't be. Why? Did he think- Oh. He thought I would go out with Domagoj just to hurt him through him. Like he did with Luka. Well, that was not such a bad idea. Even if I didn't do it, making Mario uncomfortable and getting him to worry about it? I'd take it.
I fixed my eyes on Domagoj now and smiled. I almost forgot how social interactions worked, let alone flirting. Let's see if I could still do it.
"That does sound like a nicer alternative. Especially if I will see your practice," I said, leaning forward a bit.
It was a little awkward, the angle, the situation but he returned my smile and winked at me.
"I guess we'll see each other soon then. If you follow up on what you said that is."
And with a stern look and a nod to Mario, he turned and skated away.
I could feel Mario's stare burning holes into my head. Angry, wasn't he? Good. It felt good not to be the one who is always angry. [Hulk Smash. But seriously Suba, please just stop. This is awfully childish.]
"If you hurt him in any way I swear I'll-"
"You'll what? Beat me up? Please. If you were any good at that Luka wouldn't have to patch you up so often. So kindly shut up so I don't have to punch you in the face like I said I wouldn't." I hissed.
Mario flinched a bit at the mention/sound of Luka's name. I liked this plan more and more as the time passed. Mario looked on edge the whole time as if he'd rather have it that I really punched him.
Vida waved at me after the practice ended, signalling he was just going to the dressing room first. I waved back and Mario's jaw looked like it would snap in two if he pressed his teeth together it a bit harder.
I barely recognized him when he walked out. He let his long hair down and he was wearing a hat. And a jacket. Jesus. A bright yellow winter jacket. Winter jackets were ugly as it was, did it have to be yellow too?
He practically skipped over to where I was standing with a big grin on his face.
"I am glad Mario's face is in one piece. I am sure he appreciates it too." By the look on Mario's face I would disagree but he continued. "So, shall we? There is a nice café right across the street."
I took one last look at Mario's face. It was a mixture of worry, anger and something else. Regret? Probably not. Even now I couldn't imagine him regretting anything. Why would he? It wasn't his heart that got broken.
I shifted my eyes to Domagoj's grinning face and followed him to the exit.
Looking back, sometimes I wondered if I would have followed him if I knew how different that conversation would go from what I planned at that moment.
But, remembering his grinning face, the way his eyes were almost taunting me, even then, I know the truth. Yes, I would.
Taglist:
@lovren-la-vida-luka
@mvsicbookfrxndom
@kjldrv
@igecko1320
@lovrenfc
@sad-forest
@roseszymczak
@snakesandcherries
@domo-no-domo-yes
@asensihoe
@mrsmodric
@lukamodrix
@zadarskabagudina
@tinymodric
@wordpuddle
@childsmokers
@pachua
@flemishyugotalian
@living-lovren
@arduango
@winters-chiid
(I didn’t use this taglist in super long so if someone wants to be added/removed please send me a message or write in the comments)
Everyone, It's time to burn🔥🔥🔥
„Why do they call him Lukita?“ Appreciation post bc Luka is such a smol bean and that‘s cute
Subasic is officially a god thanks bye
SUBAŠIĆ JE NAŠ NAJJAČI AVENGER!!!
Today is the professional holiday of the Croatian national team