#pelopo

[footballmanagerallstar]

Despedida de Xavi Hernandez del FC Barcelona

Despedida de Xavi Hernández del FC Barcelona

[rdjandxavi-blog]

[moltasort-blog]

Blood Ties - Part 16

He had been sweet to me. He had been calling me at least twice a week and he was my only connection to them.

That sweet and comforting face of his.

He didn’t even got mad when I once, maybe twice, called him around 4am ‘cause I had read something on the papers and was scared something had happened there.

The first time he called me, a week after I had arrived, was to tell me I had forgotten a nice cup for tea I had bought on Xavi’s place and he asked me what I wanted to do with it. They were coming in a few weeks for the Champions’ group stage, so I asked him to bring it when they'd come.

Since then, we’ve talked… a lot: mostly about the club and Leo, David or Victor. Once in a while about Tito, but he always made sure not to bring Xavi to the conversation no matter what. The fact was I really didn’t know about Xavi besides what came on the papers, like the time I called him, at 4am, because I had read Xavi had been in a car accident.

I wasn’t going to tell him I had an accident, less an abortion. I just wanted to talk to him, but, yeah, life does whatever she wants do to.

“Hello?” – I said again waiting for Gerard’s voice. “Giraffe, will you be kind enough to answer me, I’m craving for sweet, my boss isn’t around, Nathaniel is probably sleeping and I wanted to ask you if you could bring me some lemon pie or something.”

I ended joking, but no a sound from the other side came. I checked the phone’s screen to make sure the call had gone in and it was. “Gerard?” – I muttered one last time.

“I’ll go get him.” – Xavi replied. I stood there open mouthed until Gerard answered his phone.

“I am so sorry.” – Xavi… Xavi… Xavi… “We are in a party and I left my cell phone on the table, I’m sorry Elizabeth.”

Xavi.

“It’s ok, no problem.”

Xavi.

“Elizabeth.”

Xavi.

“It’s fine. I’ll call you later.”

Xavi.

“Or you’ll call me when you are not busy.”

Xavi.

Xavi.

Xavi.

I hung up seconds later and texted Nathaniel.

I don’t care if you are drunk, haven’t slept on weeks or you are cheating on Cristina. Come.

Around 45 minutes later he arrived with a cake and a bottle with fruit cocktail… without alcohol.

“What happened?” – He muttered once we were sitting on the kitchen’s chair, filling my mouth with cake.

“I talked to my ex. Well, not talk.” – I continued drinking from my virgin cocktail. “That’s not considered talking.”

“And…” – He knew enough. He knew he was the father of the kid I had lost. He knew I had met him and ran to a “relationship”.

Let’s face it, that was never a relationship. It was sex and fun, but nothing more.

Right?

And he also knew he was my half brother.

“I… I had called a friend but he answered.”

“Gerard, I suppose.” – See? We had talked so much even Nathaniel knew about Gerard.

“Yeah, he just said “I’ll go get him.” That was it.” – I cried taking another bit of cake.

“No, it was not. Talk.” - He commanded.

“He sounded sad… And they were in a party. How can he be sad in a party?” – I protested.

“Maybe-”

“You! Can’t! Be! Sad! In! A! Party!” – I protested hitting the kitchen table and hurting my hand.

“… It wasn’t a fun party.” – Nathaniel finished what he was saying, anyways.

“Oh! Come on!” – I protested again raising the tone of my voice. “It’s a fucking footballer’s party! They are always fun!”

“Maybe they ran out of alcohol.” – He suggested. “Or maybe he had just killed a roach and he felt bad about it.”

“Oh! Please! Give me a break!”

“Elizabeth! He can be sad for millions of things!” – He made sure that I understand taking the cake away from me.

“I…” – I sighed before continuing. “Maybe I just want him to be sad.”

“…because he made you sad.” – He finished the phrase I hated to hear.

He had. Even with the bunch of work I had on me, when I had a second free, he was in my mind.

Ruining everything.

I took the cake from him, but not before he had cut a slide for himself, and started to eat it again.

“You are going fat.” – He playfully said.

“Go.” – I didn’t.

I had a part of him in me, and then I lose it before even knowing. And then I heard him talk? That Karma bitch won’t leave me alone!

I had told myself over and over again that “we” didn’t really exist. I barely knew the guy, but he was my brother and maybe, eventually I had to know him, right?

Like… my big brother. I always wanted a big brother. Or a brother at all. Now I have one, two, three older brothers and an older sister.

And a father.

And a step mother.

And nephews.

Well, I almost had a child.

It had been two months. TWO MONTHS since I left. Fucking Xavi. Of course I wanted to hear him. I wanted to hear him every night, or at least know he was good… fine… perfect… maybe he already had a girlfriend.

And he did. That was the reason I had called Gerard the second time at 4am. I was coming back home walking and in a night stand I saw a sport magazine that had a really hot model in the front cover.

Hot.

As in her belly was bare and it was flat. Her breast weren’t big, but the black bra she was wearing made them look big. She was brunette and with curly hair, I loved her hair. And her eyes, some genes are too good. They were blue in the inside but somehow grey on the outside of the iris. I might have developed a woman crush on her. “Maybe” was the right word… Or not.

She was hot, I could go lesbian just for her, really, but then…

World Cup winner Xavi Hernandez was spotted dating hottie Italian model.