I actually like this one :-)
Jul. 9th, 2009 06:59 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
tempered-rose.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tr_ficTitle: The Worst Kind
Pairing: Iker Casillas / OFC
Rating: PG-13 for adult concepts *cough* and language
Prompt: 082. If
Word Count: 1066
A/N: One of my many prompts for Iker’s![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
football100 table.
I think I'll go to Boston,
I think that I'm just tired
I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind...
I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of the sunset,
I hear it's nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice... oh yeah
It had started as one of those arguments that happened when one person was just in a mood and the other person says something. Then all hell breaks loose. In the aftermath, Iker would look back and wish that he had just tried harder to stop it before it got completely out of hand.
He had been upset because he had been feeling sorry for himself because he had done so pitifully in the last match. He was the last line of defense and he had failed. He had let his team, his captain, and the fans all down because of his failure.
It was exactly why he was sitting in his office, in the dark, staring at the wall. Appropriately, outside there was a storm brewing. The sun had set long before the door ever opened and the padded footsteps came nearer to him. He did not respond when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. She simply stood there and held him; her warmth sinking into his body.
After a time when he had failed to respond to anything, she sighed.
“It really isn’t that bad you know, you can get them again in a few weeks’ time.”
Something inside him shifted and his hurt and disappointment came out instead of rationale and reason. “What would you know? You don’t play for this team.”
He was hurting too badly to pay any attention to hear her sound of surprise. She removed her arms from him and backed away.
“No, but I hang around you and I thought that might just qualify a little bit.” Her voice rose slightly in anger.
“It doesn’t. You just cannot understand.” Iker moved and felt for the first time in a while his muscles protest at being released so suddenly. He flipped on the desk light and ignored the brightness.
“The hell I can’t! What’s gotten into you Iker?” She asked and he saw concern written on her face.
“Nothing, I’m just fine. What is your problem?” Iker asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Well at the moment it’s a sarcastic son of a bitch.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him.
“Well since you have such a damn problem with this ‘sarcastic son of a bitch’,” he said in a singsong voice, “then leave!”
“Maybe I will!” She answered back and outside thunder clapped ominously.
There was a pregnant pause with the two glaring at each other. Iker’s inner turmoil had one last nip that he could not stop himself from saying.
“Why aren’t you gone yet?”
Her eyebrows rose high as her eyes narrowed. She spun on her heel and slammed the door behind her. Iker sighed and his ego felt victorious.
It wasn’t till twenty minutes later that he would regret what he had done.
The house was silent apart from the storm raging outside. Iker thought he just needed a while to cool down and then everything would be okay. The same for her as well. Its what they did. They would fight, and then a while later, make up again.
So when he heard the front door slam and a car pull away from outside, he realized for the first time the exact implication of what he had said. Rising from his chair in haste, Iker made his way to their bedroom. What had once been a tranquil, calming place now left a wrinkled bedspread, open closet doors, and emptiness.
Iker opened his mouth in shock and then his mind flew into rationalization. She would be back, she just needed to go someplace and cool down. It would turn out okay, it always had before…
However, he had to make sure. Iker flipped his phone open and pushed her speed dial number and let it ring. She didn’t answer. It wouldn’t be until a few hours of drinking and calling later, that he would receive a text message from Sergio saying that she was at his place and that she didn’t want to talk to him.
Iker wondered why Sergio had anything to do with this but he refused his bruised ego to lay any implications of infidelity. That is, after all, what had gotten him into trouble in the first place.
Iker closed his eyes and tried to push his problems away while outside the storm slackened slightly.
It wasn’t until the practice a few days later that Iker got to corner Sergio and find out exactly what had happened. Sergio looked at him like he should know what had happened.
“You mean she didn’t go back to your place?”
Iker shook his head. “Was she supposed to?”
Sergio nodded. “She promised me…oh damn.” Sergio’s face was full of regret and he was immediately apologetic. “Iker, I said something, I didn’t think she would do it, but I guess she did! I’m so so sorry!”
Iker took a step forward, temper flaring. “What did you say?”
Sergio gulped, eyes wide. “I said that maybe she should go somewhere where she would be more comfortable and you know…start over.”
He was looking down at this point and the two words that Iker simultaneously hated and feared were said so quietly that Iker blinked in case he had actually heard them. The stabbing of his heart confirmed it and Iker advanced on Sergio.
“Where did she go you asshole?” Iker grabbed Sergio’s shoulders and held tight.
“I don’t know! I’m sorry Iker!” Sergio apologized again and again. “I didn’t think she would actually go!”
“Well guess what Sergio,” Iker snapped sarcastically, “she did.” The fight went out of him when he realized that she really was gone. “She did.”
He released Sergio and then wandered back to the goal. She was gone. She had left him. He had told her too. It was all his fault.
It was why that he sat in his office and stared at the only two things he had left of her: a picture of her smiling face next to his and her wedding ring.
He wondered why of all the things his mind could have spewed out it had to be the worst thing of all. His mind replayed a poem that his mother used to sing to him. And he laughed with bitterness as he sang out the most impressionable line,
“If only if only the woodpecker sighs, if only, if only.”
Pairing: Iker Casillas / OFC
Rating: PG-13 for adult concepts *cough* and language
Prompt: 082. If
Word Count: 1066
A/N: One of my many prompts for Iker’s
football100 table.I think I'll go to Boston,
I think that I'm just tired
I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind...
I think I need a sunrise, I'm tired of the sunset,
I hear it's nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice... oh yeah
It had started as one of those arguments that happened when one person was just in a mood and the other person says something. Then all hell breaks loose. In the aftermath, Iker would look back and wish that he had just tried harder to stop it before it got completely out of hand.
He had been upset because he had been feeling sorry for himself because he had done so pitifully in the last match. He was the last line of defense and he had failed. He had let his team, his captain, and the fans all down because of his failure.
It was exactly why he was sitting in his office, in the dark, staring at the wall. Appropriately, outside there was a storm brewing. The sun had set long before the door ever opened and the padded footsteps came nearer to him. He did not respond when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. She simply stood there and held him; her warmth sinking into his body.
After a time when he had failed to respond to anything, she sighed.
“It really isn’t that bad you know, you can get them again in a few weeks’ time.”
Something inside him shifted and his hurt and disappointment came out instead of rationale and reason. “What would you know? You don’t play for this team.”
He was hurting too badly to pay any attention to hear her sound of surprise. She removed her arms from him and backed away.
“No, but I hang around you and I thought that might just qualify a little bit.” Her voice rose slightly in anger.
“It doesn’t. You just cannot understand.” Iker moved and felt for the first time in a while his muscles protest at being released so suddenly. He flipped on the desk light and ignored the brightness.
“The hell I can’t! What’s gotten into you Iker?” She asked and he saw concern written on her face.
“Nothing, I’m just fine. What is your problem?” Iker asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Well at the moment it’s a sarcastic son of a bitch.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him.
“Well since you have such a damn problem with this ‘sarcastic son of a bitch’,” he said in a singsong voice, “then leave!”
“Maybe I will!” She answered back and outside thunder clapped ominously.
There was a pregnant pause with the two glaring at each other. Iker’s inner turmoil had one last nip that he could not stop himself from saying.
“Why aren’t you gone yet?”
Her eyebrows rose high as her eyes narrowed. She spun on her heel and slammed the door behind her. Iker sighed and his ego felt victorious.
It wasn’t till twenty minutes later that he would regret what he had done.
The house was silent apart from the storm raging outside. Iker thought he just needed a while to cool down and then everything would be okay. The same for her as well. Its what they did. They would fight, and then a while later, make up again.
So when he heard the front door slam and a car pull away from outside, he realized for the first time the exact implication of what he had said. Rising from his chair in haste, Iker made his way to their bedroom. What had once been a tranquil, calming place now left a wrinkled bedspread, open closet doors, and emptiness.
Iker opened his mouth in shock and then his mind flew into rationalization. She would be back, she just needed to go someplace and cool down. It would turn out okay, it always had before…
However, he had to make sure. Iker flipped his phone open and pushed her speed dial number and let it ring. She didn’t answer. It wouldn’t be until a few hours of drinking and calling later, that he would receive a text message from Sergio saying that she was at his place and that she didn’t want to talk to him.
Iker wondered why Sergio had anything to do with this but he refused his bruised ego to lay any implications of infidelity. That is, after all, what had gotten him into trouble in the first place.
Iker closed his eyes and tried to push his problems away while outside the storm slackened slightly.
It wasn’t until the practice a few days later that Iker got to corner Sergio and find out exactly what had happened. Sergio looked at him like he should know what had happened.
“You mean she didn’t go back to your place?”
Iker shook his head. “Was she supposed to?”
Sergio nodded. “She promised me…oh damn.” Sergio’s face was full of regret and he was immediately apologetic. “Iker, I said something, I didn’t think she would do it, but I guess she did! I’m so so sorry!”
Iker took a step forward, temper flaring. “What did you say?”
Sergio gulped, eyes wide. “I said that maybe she should go somewhere where she would be more comfortable and you know…start over.”
He was looking down at this point and the two words that Iker simultaneously hated and feared were said so quietly that Iker blinked in case he had actually heard them. The stabbing of his heart confirmed it and Iker advanced on Sergio.
“Where did she go you asshole?” Iker grabbed Sergio’s shoulders and held tight.
“I don’t know! I’m sorry Iker!” Sergio apologized again and again. “I didn’t think she would actually go!”
“Well guess what Sergio,” Iker snapped sarcastically, “she did.” The fight went out of him when he realized that she really was gone. “She did.”
He released Sergio and then wandered back to the goal. She was gone. She had left him. He had told her too. It was all his fault.
It was why that he sat in his office and stared at the only two things he had left of her: a picture of her smiling face next to his and her wedding ring.
He wondered why of all the things his mind could have spewed out it had to be the worst thing of all. His mind replayed a poem that his mother used to sing to him. And he laughed with bitterness as he sang out the most impressionable line,
“If only if only the woodpecker sighs, if only, if only.”
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