Home is where the heart is
Characters; Christian Eriksen, Maarten Stekelenburg.
wordcount 782 words :)
Beta’ed nobody wants to :|
A/N readable with Rosi Golan’s - Can’t go back.
Disclaimer I do not own, nor know them. This is all a lie and purely based on some things that have made it to my weird brain
.
It was late. The streets were empty and the air was still warm. It had been a too hot day and a too hot afternoon. The sun had shone in a bright light and it would’ve been a nice day if there wasn’t so much pressure on his shoulders.
The plane flight to Rome had been the worst. People that were constantly throwing him looks, people that sighed, once more, while watching that stupid show next to him. People that were sleeping, pretended to read or people who asked if they could go on the photo with him. Normally he wouldn’t have minded it. It was just different. Maybe the arrival in Rome had been the worst. There were fans screaming and yelling his name. Maybe even chanting. It had been weird. Strange fans chanting his name
The wind caressed his cheek when he entered the Stadio Olimpico. It was huge. But it didn’t feel like home. The colours of the kit were different. The fans were different. The gras was different. The stairs, the dressing rooms, the language, everything was strange. Different. He looked up. Even the blinding lights, that were shining bright were different.
The soon-to-be- team mates, that were playing on the pitch were different. He didn’t recognize much. He knew Simon* of course. He’d played alongside him during the World Cup in 2010. Then you had Bojan Krkic. The wonder child of FC Barcelona that was on loan. Next to him, somewhere in the Stadio Olimpico, Erik Lamela the man from Argentina was around as well. The young boy had gotten another suspension after spitting to an opponent. He smiled when he thought about it. Maybe things weren’t so different as they were at home.
But one thing that knew how his home was like, the only thing in Rome that knew, was here. The most important thing for him here was Maarten Stekelenburg. The man that knew how it felt to leave everything you had. The man that wore the armband with pride. Just like Jan.** But it was all temporary. The men that wore the armband came and left. There was never one person, that stayed. That was there to protect you from bad times. There was never one person that dedicated his career to the club. There wasn’t a Steven Gerrard at his club. They just came and left and came. To leave again.
Rain poured down from the black skies, the wind had left, together with the fans that were here for AS Roma. The sun had set a couple of hours ago. It didn’t matter. The lights were still on and he was watching the curves of the field. It would be soon his home-field. He would play there. Alongside to Simon, Bojan, Maarten and Erik. As a team. As a new home. But home couldn’t be replaced, could it?
He did hear the footstep, but didn’t want to turn. He knew who was here with him.
“You’re doubting your decision, aren’t you?” Maarten said.
“I am scared.” He said, whispering.
So, Maarten decided to say nothing and wrapped his arms around the younger man. The other man sighed and closed his eyes.
“How am I going to make each moment better if I can’t go back, Maarten?”
“You don’t. That’s the point. But we have to move on. We have to live on and if you think it goes too fast or your heart doesn’t belong where you are right now. Then you shouldn’t do it. It’s better to let a chance slip away and take another chance, in a different way than leaving and never getting a chance to go back, while you miss it. I know you will make the right decision.”
So the younger man nodded and closed his eyes. He felt how the warmth around his body just as soon left as it came. Before he knew it, he was alone with his thoughts.
So eventually he was arrived here. Just look at the white door. He’d been standing here for a couple of minutes. Ten, maybe twenty? He didn’t know. It didn’t matter either. He was just too afraid to ring the doorbell. So he just stood here. It was warm, so unbelievably warm. But at least it felt like home. So when he finally had the courage to ring the doorbell and the door opened, he was surprised.
He was pulled into the arms of the one that meant home for him. He sighed happily and smiled. He knew he’d made the right decision.
“Christian?”
“Please, let me make better mistakes tomorrow.
Please, let me stay. I don’t want to go away from home ever again.”
wordcount 782 words :)
Beta’ed nobody wants to :|
A/N readable with Rosi Golan’s - Can’t go back.
Disclaimer I do not own, nor know them. This is all a lie and purely based on some things that have made it to my weird brain
.
It was late. The streets were empty and the air was still warm. It had been a too hot day and a too hot afternoon. The sun had shone in a bright light and it would’ve been a nice day if there wasn’t so much pressure on his shoulders.
The plane flight to Rome had been the worst. People that were constantly throwing him looks, people that sighed, once more, while watching that stupid show next to him. People that were sleeping, pretended to read or people who asked if they could go on the photo with him. Normally he wouldn’t have minded it. It was just different. Maybe the arrival in Rome had been the worst. There were fans screaming and yelling his name. Maybe even chanting. It had been weird. Strange fans chanting his name
The wind caressed his cheek when he entered the Stadio Olimpico. It was huge. But it didn’t feel like home. The colours of the kit were different. The fans were different. The gras was different. The stairs, the dressing rooms, the language, everything was strange. Different. He looked up. Even the blinding lights, that were shining bright were different.
The soon-to-be- team mates, that were playing on the pitch were different. He didn’t recognize much. He knew Simon* of course. He’d played alongside him during the World Cup in 2010. Then you had Bojan Krkic. The wonder child of FC Barcelona that was on loan. Next to him, somewhere in the Stadio Olimpico, Erik Lamela the man from Argentina was around as well. The young boy had gotten another suspension after spitting to an opponent. He smiled when he thought about it. Maybe things weren’t so different as they were at home.
But one thing that knew how his home was like, the only thing in Rome that knew, was here. The most important thing for him here was Maarten Stekelenburg. The man that knew how it felt to leave everything you had. The man that wore the armband with pride. Just like Jan.** But it was all temporary. The men that wore the armband came and left. There was never one person, that stayed. That was there to protect you from bad times. There was never one person that dedicated his career to the club. There wasn’t a Steven Gerrard at his club. They just came and left and came. To leave again.
Rain poured down from the black skies, the wind had left, together with the fans that were here for AS Roma. The sun had set a couple of hours ago. It didn’t matter. The lights were still on and he was watching the curves of the field. It would be soon his home-field. He would play there. Alongside to Simon, Bojan, Maarten and Erik. As a team. As a new home. But home couldn’t be replaced, could it?
He did hear the footstep, but didn’t want to turn. He knew who was here with him.
“You’re doubting your decision, aren’t you?” Maarten said.
“I am scared.” He said, whispering.
So, Maarten decided to say nothing and wrapped his arms around the younger man. The other man sighed and closed his eyes.
“How am I going to make each moment better if I can’t go back, Maarten?”
“You don’t. That’s the point. But we have to move on. We have to live on and if you think it goes too fast or your heart doesn’t belong where you are right now. Then you shouldn’t do it. It’s better to let a chance slip away and take another chance, in a different way than leaving and never getting a chance to go back, while you miss it. I know you will make the right decision.”
So the younger man nodded and closed his eyes. He felt how the warmth around his body just as soon left as it came. Before he knew it, he was alone with his thoughts.
So eventually he was arrived here. Just look at the white door. He’d been standing here for a couple of minutes. Ten, maybe twenty? He didn’t know. It didn’t matter either. He was just too afraid to ring the doorbell. So he just stood here. It was warm, so unbelievably warm. But at least it felt like home. So when he finally had the courage to ring the doorbell and the door opened, he was surprised.
He was pulled into the arms of the one that meant home for him. He sighed happily and smiled. He knew he’d made the right decision.
“Christian?”
“Please, let me make better mistakes tomorrow.
Please, let me stay. I don’t want to go away from home ever again.”