Shutting the door behind me, I plunked down my hand bag onto the floor, while heading straight into the kitchen. I was tired as hell, and it felt like every single bone of mine hurt like an elephant tramped on me. My hair looked a mess, my clothes didn't fit each other, several pimples covered my actually beautiful skin. Guess that's the price you have to pay for staying up all night. Mom wasn't home yet, she went shopping as she told me before I went to work. Dad was working. Mario, well, he's Mario. He could be at home, which was quite surprising, or out like usually. I opened up the fridge, observing the content hungrily. Grabbing a salad from yesterday and some bread, I sat myself onto the stool by the counter. Not even cleaning my hands, I took the fresh smelling piece of bread into my fingertips and snapped off.

"Mmm…" I mumbled, enjoying the taste of it, like I never did before.

My day at the grocery store was tiring, boring and nerve-racking. Every single customer mocked me. At least, that's how I saw it. But in fact, I was so out of my own mind, the only thing I did was bitching around about every single thing.

In addition to that horrible noon, I didn't really get to drink and small talk with Dad in the morning. To be honest, my mood changed the exact moment I read Cristiano's message. Not so positive anymore. He practically ruined my day, alright? And he rather shouldn't get his hopes up, because I won't go anywhere with him tonight. Nor tomorrow, nor next week. My mood loafed around in the trash, seriously.

"What you doing?" A sudden voice interrupted my thoughts. The bitten piece of bread left in my hand, fell out as I jumped in surprise, almost chocking on the tomato I currently chewed on. Mario's huge hand patted my back, as I coughed my lungs out.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Why did you sneak on me?" I hissed, the second I stopped coughing. Mario reopened the fridge, taking the pack of milk and directly drinking out of it.

"Why not taking a cup instead? You're not the only one living here." I spat irritatingly.

He stopped in action, eyeing me curiously.

"Wow, what happened with you, Frankenstein? You look horrible." He announced, shutting the fridge and leaning casually against it.

"You don't look better yourself." I responded harshly, smoothing the mop of my hair.

"Ouch!" Mario threw me an amused glance, clearly enjoying my bad mood. "Well, you're right, I don't look good either, but it's not me who has been pretty unicorns and rainbows this morning. What's wrong?"

I merely rolled my eyes, burying my tired face in my hands. Taking deep in- and exhales. "I'm tired, that's it." Snapping up and taking a rather close look at Mario. In fact, he indeed looked better than hours before. Though, the scratch upon his chest was still there.

"How you got it?" I pointed loosely at his V-neck shirt.

He glanced down at himself, casually tugging on his shirt. A smirk spread across his familiar face. "Girls like to get a bit kinky, y'know?"

"Oh please, spare me the truth." I shook myself a bit, imagining on how Mario got some last night. Jesus Christ.

"Where's Mom?" He suddenly asked, raising both of his eyebrows in question. I rose up from my seat, heading to the sink where I put the now-empty bowl in. Turning around and leaning against the counter, I tiringly crossed my arms.

"She went shopping." I shrugged casually, rubbing one of my reddened eyes.

Mario nodded wordlessly, eyeing me closely. "You should go and get some rest." He murmured, walking out of the kitchen, into the direction of our living room.

Guess that's what I'm gonna do then, I thought myself. Shambling out of the kitchen myself, I headed up the stairs but stopped midst of them. Peeking over my shoulder at Mario, who was relaxing on the leather couch, smirking satisfied at something.

"Oh, and Mario?"

He caught my attention, raising his brows in question, once again.

"Do not open up the door unless it's mom or dad. Or even Clara. Okay?"

His eyebrows furrowed themselves upon his eyes. "Why?"

I exhaled impatiently. "Just don't." With these words, I ran up the stairs directing to my room. Silently shutting the door behind me, I stripped down the working clothes and putting some comfortable trains and a loose, one-shouldered shirt on. I didn't make my bed this morning, good for me. Slipping into the cold material, and curling my knees up to my chin, I closed my eyes and immediately fell into the kingdom of dreams.

Everywhere I saw, his face haunted me. His hands upon my neck, his fists upon my face.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving you."

"No, you ain't! Come back!" Here we go again. Hair tugging, kicking, beating. Everything at a time.

And I fell…

Deep…

Into the sea of brutal hands reaching for me. Their claws made me cringe and I screamed in fear.

I ran for life. Ran. And ran. Running my feet bloody.

"Holy shit!" I yelled out.

"Holy shit!" Again.

"Cristiano fucking Ronaldo just knocked on my fucking door!"

Uh…what?

My eyes shut open. It was dawning already and the yells downstairs wouldn't stop at that point. My head spun around, looking for the digital digits of my clock, next to my bed. 7pm. Who in hell would yell that loud? A quick shock stroked my mind.

I indeed just dreamt about Drew. My heart immediately increased its race, pounding against my chest heavily.

"Come in, come in!" I jerked a bit, at the sudden noise downstairs. Once again. And this voice was fairly familiar to me. Mario, who else? Irritation overcame me. Why in hell would he scream all of a sudden? He didn't get drunk again, did he? Nah, impossible. He stayed home, last time I saw him. And that was before I went back to rest. It means, he could of have been somewhere and just got home. Bet he brought a chick with him. Oh please.

"Yeah, she's upstairs." Mario uttered down, now more lowly. But loud enough for me to actually hear his sayings. I rolled over my bed, raising up, stretching me tense spine. Perking up, as heavy footsteps made their way up the stairs.

I remained silent, not daring to move. My mind spun around. Who in hell came over to visit us? I don't even-

A loud knock interrupted my slight thoughts. I tip-toed straight to my door, leaning in and pulling the knob, opening it ajar. Mario's bright eyes met mine, he flashed a somehow excited grin, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What?" I hissed lowly, widening my door. He was clearly beaming at me, and couldn't stand still at all.

"You won't believe who just came over and I almost pissed my pants and-" He spat excitedly like a 12-year old.

"Just spit it out already. I was about to go back to bed, you see?" I looked like a total mess. My trains were slipping down my hips and again, the waistband of my panties revealed itself. In addition to that embarrassment, I stripped off my bra before going to rest, because it would have been very uncomfortable. So now, my one-shouldered shirt was sticking onto my upper body and I was 100% sure, anyone on this entire plant could tell, I wasn't wearing a bra. But since it was just Mario in front of me, I didn't care.

Mario merely rolled his eyes at me, pointing downstairs. "Go and see yourself."

Murmuring some cursive words under my breath, I stepped out into the illuminated corridor, stomping along it, followed by my super annoying brother. My polished toe nails sparkled at touching the carpeted material, leading me down the stairs. The inside of my nostrils itched dangerously, tickling. The moment I landed in the entrance hall, my mood not only changed radically, but it sent out a complete weird information right to my mad brain.

I covered my mouth, squinting my eyes and leaning in a bit.

"Aaaaaa-choooooo!"

"Bless you." A quite familiar, husky voice uttered down. Dear God, if you really do exist, please do not let it be him. Sniffing, while doubtfully opening each of my eyes and casually searching for the source of that voice.

Suuuuuuuure.

There he stood, all in his fake halo. My tummy churned at the sight of him.

Cristiano calmly stood in the back of the entrance hall, having his arms crossed. The moment I entered the hall, he uncrossed his clothed arms and approached me with a flashing smile.

"I already thought about you not being-" He raised his voice, but as harsh as I am, interrupting him was necessary.

"What are you doing here? And who let you in?" I myself crossed my arms upon my braless breasts. The smile on Cristiano's face vanished as soon as he noticed my tenseness. Again, the unreadable look on his beautiful face gained the upper hand. His jawline clenched several times, as we stood there in complete silence. Mario shifted right behind me, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Cristiano opened his full lips to remark, his eyes darted to something or someone behind me.

"I let him in, just for your information." Mario announced loudly. Way too loud.

I slowly detached myself out of that weird triangle, so getting a better view on both of them.

"And may I know why? You don't even know him, do you?" I spat at Mario, who winced slightly at my suddenly harsh tone.

"Yo, why so cold? Is it because I waked you up? If that's the reason you're being a complete bitch right now, I am sorry." Mario raised his hands as in a sincere apology. Cristiano didn't say anything, he just kept drilling through me with his unreadable eyes.

I merely rolled my eyes at Mario's statement. In fact, I wasn't that mad he woke me up. It was just cause that twit indeed opened the Goddamn door, even though I strictly forbid him to do so. What an idiot.

My eyes wandered from Mario to Cristiano, who still was standing there silenced. The corners of my lips twitched slightly, as I took a closer look at him. He was dressed in a white long sleeved shirt, which revealed his trained upper body, dark denim pants and rocking some also dark shoes. Looks like he thinks highly on his public appearance.

"I see you're not dressed." Cristiano stated calmly, eyeing my tiny figure. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion at him. I am dressed, what is he even talking about? Uncrossing my arms and raising them a bit, I looked down at me irritated. Fully dressed, well expect any socks.

"Of course I am dressed. What does it look like I'm wearing?" I hissed.

Cristiano rolled his eyes, never meaning to come off as mad or angry. A smile spread across his face.

"I meant dressed as in something more casual. We're going out, just so you know. Didn't you get my message this morning?" A confused wrinkle appeared in between his eyebrows. I stifled a grin, while shaking my head, acting innocently.

"No, I didn't. What a pity we can't go." I sighed playfully, pouting a bit. Mario locked eyes with mine, looking right through me. I'm sure he knows I was bullshitting.

"Well, I was supposed to show up at 8." He took a look at his expensive watch. "It's 7:30. I already know you good enough, to predict, you would resist on going out with me. That's why I came much earlier. You've got half an hour to dress."

My mouth dropped open and all I could do was stare at him in disbelief. Did this guy really think I would go on a date with him?

"Who said I was even going?" I hissed, getting moody again.

A knowing smirk spread itself across Mario's face. Guess he really did know me. "Oh, Amanda, don't bitch around for once and go get dressed." He rolled his eyes, patting Cristiano's back. "Sorry, bro. She's not always like that."

Cristiano nodded, flashing a slight smile. "I'm getting used to it. In fact, if I was a female, I couldn't resist myself neither. Completely understandable." He shrugged casually. All out of sudden Mario erupted in loud laughter, clapping hands with Cristiano.

I raised both of my brows in disbelief, watching both of them. What the hell was going on?

"That was a good one, bro. Seriously. You know, I think you're right. She's just way too proud to show how flattered she actually is. That's the way women these days are." Mario uttered down, grinning sheepishly.

I shifted impatiently, watching their stupid conversation and how fast they found a common topic to talk about. Way too stupid.

I wanted to smartly remark on Mario's latest comment, which was utter bullshit but Cristiano interrupted me.

"You really think she doesn't really mean it with all these curses she throws at me?" Cristiano asked, acting all thoughtfully.

"Of course, dude. I've caught her daydreaming once. Pretty intense, I tell ya." Mario mouthed back. They both erupted in laughter, completely leaving me out of the conversation.

I was getting mad. Hella mad. Who does Cristiano think he is? Walking into our house and making fun of me? Like the what hell were they both talking about? Mario did not catch me daydreaming, this is utter bullshit. Utter, utter, bullshit.

"You guys, I'm still here." I raised my voice, spatting each syllable out. They turned their heads to me, as if seeing me for the first time. My eyes were burning holes into those of Cristiano's. He seemed calm.

"Get dressed." He said quietly, almost as if the jokes with Mario never happened.

I stood my ground. "There is no reason for me to go out with you. End of conversation." I turned into the direction of the stairwell. "This is way too childish for me to handle. See ya." With these last words, I made my way up the stairs, but couldn't go further as a huge hand grabbed me by my shirt, holding me back. I almost tripped over my bare feet. Spinning my head around, Cristiano was standing right behind me, gripping the loose end of my shirt. Once again, the look on his face was unreadable.

"Let go off me." I hissed.

He shook his head wordlessly, gripping tighter. Then, I turned around to fully face him, reaching for the little material he gripped like it depended on life. Our hands touched and sent out a complete surprising set of sparkles between us. My heart started pounding at its fullest and I feared it would have been too loud. Both of our looks were glued to the material we both were holding. I was the first to let go. Like I've been hit by an electric shocker.

Cristiano let go off my loose shirt, having a confused and thoughtful look plastered on his face. I was about to say something to out tense the situation, but just shrugged it off my mind and doubled back.

Again someone gripped me, but this time by my wrist, holding on gently. But tight as not to let me run away. I stood still, trying to calm myself. The Lord was definitely testing me right now. I took deep breaths, tucking a messy strand of hair behind my ear, still not facing Cristiano. To my utter horror, his grip slid down my wrist and he clasped onto my hand. I gulped lightly, preparing to bitch at him any second.

Peeking over my shoulder, I sent some death-glares his way but faltered at the look on his face. He beamed at me pleadingly, his lips, which I happened to snog less than two days ago, were pressed together. I didn't see such a quite intense look on his face once and it kind of scared me. His warm fingertips began to gently massage mine. This had such an effect on me, I even forgot we were standing almost in the middle of our entrance hall.

Someone cleared their throat nonchalantly. And the weird magic between me and him was destroyed in the blink of an eye. Both of us let go off each other, like we touched a burning match. We both peeked over at Mario, who leaned against a wall, watching us in amusement.

I blushed slightly. Just a bit. Really. It bugged me how Mario caught us in our intense moment.

"You both really should get a room." He chuckled at his own joke.

I merely rolled my eyes at him, not realizing how deep my blush got by then. Flipping him off, I turned to face Cristiano, who didn't really pay attention to Mario, but still the corners of his lips twitched into a light smile.

"I…I'll be right back." I murmured. With these words I sounded off upstairs. Finally. Now, I just need to pick anything to get dressed. As fast as possible. My mind drifted back to the moment seconds ago. Something in Cristiano's face just forced me to give in and go out. Something I couldn't quite figure out.

As soon as I re-entered my room and flicked on the light, never ending hurry took over my body. Undressing myself within mere seconds, running around completely naked. I hoped I made sure to lock the door.

"Shit, shit, shit…" My voice trailed off as I rushed into my bathroom, untying my bum of hair and stepping into the shower. I almost slipped on the wet, smooth surface of the showering cabin. Turning the faucet on and cleaning myself as fast as it was possible.

In the end it took me only 6 minutes to shower and dry my hair. Record time. Wrapping the huge towel around my dripping wet body, I made my way to my wardrobe, ripping open the door and hastily searching for anything 'nice' to dress into. Tapping my feet impatiently, I picked out an old, white and rare Chiffon Bandeau dress, which I happened to buy for my 19th Birthday party, 2 years ago. I wasn't that sure it would fit me anyways. Slipping into fresh, fitting underwear, dropping the wet towel to the floor, not caring to pick it up again. Lucky me, I've shaved my legs yesterday in the morning, because if they were all hairy and disgusting right now, it would take me more time to get ready. I was in such a rush, thinking about my decision was completely out of order. Putting the tiny dress on, I stepped in front of my large mirror.

"Not bad. Still fitting. Thank God." I murmured to myself, viewing my own reflection. My rather dry hair, surrounded my pale white face.

"Naaah…" With these words, I grabbed my new mascara and put a little on, adding a bit gloss. Pouting a bit, as testing how it actually looked like. I nodded in relief. Throwing a look towards one of my huge windows, noticing the light pink mixed with orange colored heaven. The sun set down. Great. Really. Because it meant, going out with just a short dress would be cold enough to catch a cold. Slowly turned back around in irritation, approaching my wardrobe again. Several blazers and jackets were placed on the shelf among all of my shirts and pants. I tapped my chin thoughtfully, imaging myself in some jackets I possessed. Stretching out both of my hands, I grabbed a light blue, short jeans jacket, which seemed quite fit able, as it had long sleeves. Putting some black flats on, which looked quite old and dusty. It was 7:56 already. Not being able to do something with my hair, as I ran out of time, I just ran my hand through them several times. Checking myself in the mirror for the last time, and sounding off downstairs.

Stumbling down the stairs in hurry, I finally landed in the entrance hall again. Empty. Raising both of my brows in confusion, I looked around briefly.

"Crap!" I heard someone curse. Well, it wasn't 'someone'. It was just Mario and it seemed like his voice came off the kitchen. My mind was drifting around, and I paid attention as not to run into a doorframe or anything dangerous, which could really hurt me. Slowly tiptoeing into the kitchen, where the most noise came from, my heart started to race without a particular reason.

There, casually sitting on a stool, as if the whole world belonged to him, was Cristiano. His arms were crossed, revealing some heavy packed arms. He was merely grinning, watching Mario rummaging in the fridge, telling him a story. As quiet as possible, I leant against the frame of the door, playing with my tiny purse, watching the whole situation from afar. You could tell Mario was still a bit of-guard having the most famous footballer, being present in our house, in Croydon, England. And it seemed like Cristiano enjoyed the thought of it.

"And I went completely mad. And this guy just laughed me and the next thing I remember was how all of these people around us shouted my name", Mario uttered down, trying to impress Cristiano with whatever he was telling him.

He looked up at Cristiano, opening his mouth to utter down another stuff he was about to say, when he captured my presence. He raised up from squatting and flashed a smile, nodding at me. That gesture made Cristiano turn around into my direction. His eyes met mine for some seconds, before they traveled down my tiny figure. Within seconds, I felt uncomfortable, with him looking at me like that. A deep blush crept onto my face, while a genuine smile crept onto his. My hair was a mess, the dress was too short, the flats didn't even fit, I looked horribly pale, there was no make-up on my face, which would at least ease my blush. Ugh.

I made a weird gesture, pointing behind my back.

"I…I…We're ready to go…" I stuttered, which made me look more like a complete fool. Oh dear Lord. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could guess Mario grinning sheepishly. He could see right through me, that idiot.


yeah, well there i am with another boring chapter. i've been PRETTY absent for months and just like written a few sentences once a week because grade 11th stared and it's all been raining down and me and shit. no writersblock tho just way too busy. and well, if you keep reviewing - i will have more and more inspiration to get going with this story. xo

thank you.