Tornarem - Kika Nazareth

Summary: little bit of reader and kika after the loss at the UEFA

..

The taste of defeat was bitter. It stuck to your mouth, coating your palate and teeth as you swirled your tongue against your canine, biting down hard, trying to make yourself bleed, hoping that the taste of iron would ground you. But it didn't.

You watched as Arsenal players ran around the pitch, happiness shining on their faces while their fans chanted their club songs in triumphant chorus.

You were walking, not sure where. To your right, Aitana sat on the grass, head in her hands. To your left, Alexia was consoling some of the younger players, her captain's armband still wrapped around her bicep.

You were caught in between.

You weren't one of the older players, so you didn't need to pull on a brave face and show everyone that it would all be better, that you would come back stronger next season. You also weren't one of the younger ones, so you couldn't cry and hide your face against somebody's neck, seeking comfort in their embrace.

You were in between. Completely hopeless. Completely helpless.

You have had your fair share of losses with Barcelona, but this one was agonizing. The team had made such a good season, played such powerful and well-executed games. You weren't sure where it all went wrong.

Well, you could pinpoint some things. How you wasted the chance to shoot when Alexia made that perfect pass to you. You weren't fast enough, and Caitlin–or was it McCabe?--was on you before you could react. You didn't remember anymore. It was all a blur.

You were seeing in a blur too, though you didn't know why. Maybe it was tears. Yeah, definitely tears. Good. Now you were trophyless and completely pathetic.

You didn't see a problem with people crying, you only had a problem with yourself. You didn't want to cry, didn't think you were deserving of tears. You were able to play, you were fit, different from some of your teammates who couldn't play even if they wanted to. You had the opportunity, and you wasted it. Completely threw it in the trash.

Not only were you sad, but you were also worried. You were the second-best club in Europe, of course, the silver medal choking your neck showed that. But this wasn't enough for the club, for the institution of Barcelona. Would they send you on loan? Would they just wait for your contract to expire so they could send you away?

Your hands were shaking, feeling overwhelmed by everything, but you felt like your world was really collapsing when you saw Kika crying.

Maybe there was something worse than losing a Champions final after all. Seeing Kika cry broke you completely.

You two weren't dating, but you weren't just teammates either. Calling yourselves friends seemed... wrong. There was something more, something undefined that hung between you.

Carla was hugging her, Kika hiding her face against her shoulder. You didn't think...you walked straight to them, wrapping your arms around Kika and pulling her gently into your body. You nodded to Carla, who moved to comfort Vicky instead.

"I'm sorry, Kikinha," you said, feeling her tears against your jersey. "We said we would make you proud. I'm sorry."

Disappointment was a weight on your back, a burden you carried to the locker room with your arm wrapped around Kika's shoulder as the Barcelona girls made their way off the pitch, hearing Arsenal sing "We Are The Champions" in the distance.

Kika didn't say much; you knew she couldn't when she was emotional, so you just stayed by her side, trying to hold her together.

The team had come to her house, to her country, and wasn't able to do what they had promised her. You had been on the sideline a few times because of injuries. You knew how hard it was watching it all and not being able to do anything. You couldn't even fathom what Kika was feeling, having been stuck on the bench as Arsenal grew more and more into the game.

Alexia put on her façade–one you were very used to–as she said some words of encouragement and consolation, but the players weren't buying it. No one was. There was no way to make this better.

Kika sat on one of the benches talking with Ellie as you changed your clothes. Alexia was by your side, facing her locker, a bit away from the team with her face hidden against the metal structure. You could see how devastated she was beneath the captain's mask.

You and Alexia weren't really good with words, especially personal ones, so you just placed a hand on her back.

"Tornarem," you said softly. We'll be back.

Alexia nodded, a small smile ghosting across her face.

The whole team made its way to the bus. Some fans were there to salute the team, and even though you didn't feel like you deserved it, it was nice. It brought some sort of consolation.

On the bus, you sat in your usual seat by Kika's side.

"You were good," Kika whispered after minutes of complete silence. "You made me proud. You always do."

You looked at her, not knowing how to respond. It felt like there was something stuck at the back of your throat, so you just smiled.

"Obrigada," you tried a bit of Portuguese, using the word she had taught you a few weeks ago.

Portuguese seemed better than Spanish now, more simple, more raw. You stuck to it.

All the girls made their way to their hotel rooms, especially the ones who were called up for international break. Whoever had camp needed to leave the hotel in a few hours. You were one of those.

Kikinha was your roommate. She sat on the bed watching as you packed your suitcase. You had hoped to put your gold medal inside one of your clean socks, but it didn't happen. Instead, your silver one was there. Suddenly, the suitcase seemed too full, too heavy.

You finished packing and checked your watch. You still had two hours before the van would pick you and some other girls up for the airport.

Kika was laying on the bed now, eyes up, looking at the ceiling. It was white, too white.

"They could have painted it blue," you said as you threw your body on the mattress next to her, your arms brushing each other slightly.

"Why blue?" she asked as she intertwined her good leg with yours, bringing you closer.

"Don't you guys have a whole cultural thing around making blue porcelain?" You turned your head to face her.

"I think we stole that from Asia, actually."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I was trying to make you feel better by mentioning something from home."

"You failed," she smiled at you. "But it's okay."

The silence stretched between you, comfortable despite everything, despite the loss. Outside, you could hear the distant sounds of the city, but here in this too-white room, it was just you and Kika.

"Two hours," you whispered. "I'll have to go."

"I'll stay", Kika said, her fingers finding yours in the space between your bodies.

Tornarem