Fiction: Uncategorized - Un Home de Llàgrimes Sagrat (Gerard Piqué)
title: Un Home de Llàgrimes Sagrat
word count: 270ish.
rating: G
warning(s): young man's tears
characters: Gerard Piqué
author's note: The title is a rendition of a quote by Washington Irving translated into Catalan for my lovely Catalan victim. The scene where he's caught on cameras, crying with his family (around 1:10), is what inspired this along with the quote. This may be real, may not be real. All out of love, not for money.
Edit: In the video, he's with his mom longer so it's logical to have him with his mom longer. He only held his dad for a few moments. It probably didn't have such a grand impact after holding your mother.
Comments are love.
- - -
The world fizzled away as he touched his mother's waiting arms. It was only them, only their sobs and her soft words and warm cheek on his forehead. Gerard had held them in long enough and now his tears were flowing freely.
"Oh, sweetheart, you're so amazing. You're so great, my boy. I'm so, so, so proud of you." His mother's words were like the kisses she planted along his hairline.
"Mom, Mom, we did it. We won. For Spain and Catalonia, we won." A hard sob racked Gerard's body and her hands pulled him closer.
She was choked up just as much as he was. "I know, honey. You won it for our country. Oh, my boy..." He took those words from the air and held them close to his heart. He hadn't talked to his mom since they started the World Cup despite the fact that he needed her, her support, her love, her reassurance, her, things he couldn't get from his teammates.
"I love you, Mom."
"Geri, I love you, too. Sweet angel." Another kiss and she pulled away, her hands fluttering to her puffy eyes. Gerard looked up to see the world return and his father move in for his moment.
"Dad, we won." He had much trouble speaking now; his sentence came out in awkward gasps.
His dad smiled and he had missed that just as much as his mother's voice. "I know, son. I'm so proud of you!" He emphasized his words with hard grips and a kiss on Gerard's cheek.
Reluctantly, he pulled away, saying his temporary farewells, and jogged easily down the steps.
word count: 270ish.
rating: G
warning(s): young man's tears
characters: Gerard Piqué
author's note: The title is a rendition of a quote by Washington Irving translated into Catalan for my lovely Catalan victim. The scene where he's caught on cameras, crying with his family (around 1:10), is what inspired this along with the quote. This may be real, may not be real. All out of love, not for money.
Edit: In the video, he's with his mom longer so it's logical to have him with his mom longer. He only held his dad for a few moments. It probably didn't have such a grand impact after holding your mother.
Comments are love.
- - -
The world fizzled away as he touched his mother's waiting arms. It was only them, only their sobs and her soft words and warm cheek on his forehead. Gerard had held them in long enough and now his tears were flowing freely.
"Oh, sweetheart, you're so amazing. You're so great, my boy. I'm so, so, so proud of you." His mother's words were like the kisses she planted along his hairline.
"Mom, Mom, we did it. We won. For Spain and Catalonia, we won." A hard sob racked Gerard's body and her hands pulled him closer.
She was choked up just as much as he was. "I know, honey. You won it for our country. Oh, my boy..." He took those words from the air and held them close to his heart. He hadn't talked to his mom since they started the World Cup despite the fact that he needed her, her support, her love, her reassurance, her, things he couldn't get from his teammates.
"I love you, Mom."
"Geri, I love you, too. Sweet angel." Another kiss and she pulled away, her hands fluttering to her puffy eyes. Gerard looked up to see the world return and his father move in for his moment.
"Dad, we won." He had much trouble speaking now; his sentence came out in awkward gasps.
His dad smiled and he had missed that just as much as his mother's voice. "I know, son. I'm so proud of you!" He emphasized his words with hard grips and a kiss on Gerard's cheek.
Reluctantly, he pulled away, saying his temporary farewells, and jogged easily down the steps.