Our Game of Life

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Tracing the lives of an ordinary girl and her hero.
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isobelgal
isobelgal
22 Followers

Cordelia

It was officially the most amazing day of her life. Officially. The 13-year-old brushed her thick dark hair out of her eyes as she squinted down the corridor. Her hero was about to walk through the hall and hold her hand and walk onto the field with her.

For Cordelia McGregor, there was no prince charming, no superhero no rock star. There was just Ferdinand.

Cordelia had grown up watching football with a family that followed the game avidly and ever since the 17-year old Ferdinand had debuted impressively, her heart was his. She followed all his matches, and digested every bit of news she could find about him. Her parents humored her near obsession and her dad even entered her into a competition for kids where the prize was to have the honor of walking in with your favorite player. They laughingly concluded that for other kids there was Superman or Batman, but for Cordelia it was Ferdinand.

Shockingly she was actually chosen as the kid to walk out with Ferdinand onto the field. She saw his familiar smile as he took her hand. Hers felt clammy from nervousness and excitement, but he didn't notice. While they waited for the signal to begin walking out he asked her name. She gave it in a soft, shy voice. He laughed.

Ferdinand

This was it. His biggest game ever for his team. The title of the world's best was at stake. He had some stellar performances before, but how he fared in this game would change everything. As a little boy this was what he dreamed about. Every kick, every goal. It all lead up to this. He took a deep breath and took the hand of a shy, cute kid he was meant to accompany.

He smiled at her encouragingly and asked her name. Cordelia, she replied in a small shy voice. She had big brown eyes and thick dark braided hair.

"That's a very pretty name for a very pretty girl." He told her leaning down slightly so she could hear amid the noise and fervor around. She blushed and just held his hand tighter. As they walked out, just before they reached the place they had to separate, she tugged his hand lightly and just about over the noise he heard her say earnestly, "Don't worry about them," as she waved her small hands dismissively at the crowds and the opposing team. "You're my hero. I believe you can do anything." She smiled, beaming at him and he felt a rush of emotions at this foreign little girl who put all her faith into him. He smiled back and then she was gone.

All too soon the game started. It was a tough nail-biting final and the opposition was fiercely on form. For the players it was outright war. He struggled for the ball but opportunities to score were not coming. Both sides were evenly matched even though their style of play was completely different. By half-time nothing had changed and when he came back on he could see a substitute starting to warm up that Coach would no doubt put on and take him off for.

Almost as if in slow motion he saw the ball heading his way in a pass back from the opposition. He moved quickly, using the skills he built up, he wrested it away from the opponent meant to receive it. Deftly dancing with the ball, he passed it to the talented striker but he could see it was too blocked for him to score. He quickly got himself to an open position. The striker had no option and passed the ball to him. He received it, oddly aware of everything around him.

The crowd were on their feet and clamoring, as they sensed the opportunity. His teammate was blocked up and still running to free himself. His marker was running towards him fast.

Everything seemed so foreign. The last ten years of his life culminated in this, but everyone seemed so far away. Thoughts of glory were gone from his head and replaced by the primal fear of not being good enough. His mind numbed as the seconds sluggishly ticked on and from nowhere came the little girls smile. Like basking in sunlight with his eyes closed, her voice warmed him.

"You're my hero," echoed through him. He had to be her hero. He could do this. As his natural instinct kicked in, he whipped the ball away from the attacker who was now on him, saw the goal, lifted his leg up and connected. All he could hear over the shouts and delighted screams was, "I believe you can do anything."

He scored twice that evening, against everyone's expectations and the team and the entire nation's glee. He never forgot the little girl. It was a whirlwind after that. If he thought he had made it before then, he was so wrong. He was the youngest hottest star and his lifestyle reflected that.

He received lucrative contracts and huge endorsement deals. He got the houses and cars and to go with that, the supermodel girlfriend. This was surely life.

Four years later...

Cordelia

She opened the glossy magazine and saw the huge spread on him. She told herself she bought it for the free sunglasses that came with it but deep down she knew. He looked as beautiful as ever. His glossy, light brown hair, shorter now than he had had it before, his deep blue eyes and the familiar smile that made her heart feel as if it were taken out and then heated up by the fire and then returned, leaving her flustered and warm and unexplainably happy. He also had his shirt off as he walked on the beach displaying a perfect physique. It wasn't that she thought he was hot though. It wasn't an obsession either.

All through high school as his career picked up and his face became more recognizable, girls swooned over him. For her though, ever since the day he smiled at her, she just had an instant connection to him. And even though his posters graced her walls like many other teenage girls, hers weren't the shirtless, posing, pretty boy pictures everyone else favored, they were of him in play in his kit and one of him just smiling seemingly caught off guard.

She looked back at the picture and focused on the girl next to him. She was dressed in the skimpiest of bikinis and seemed to have the body of a goddess. Her name was Illasabette and her exotic beauty matched her name. She was supposedly going to be married to him in a few months according to a hint she unscrupulously slipped to reporters. She sighed closing the magazine not wishing to read on and decided to live her own life.

She would be moving soon to college and though her life was not exactly miserable, she felt disjointed and out of place. She performed well at school and coped socially. While not being awkward she could more than adequately be entertaining and charming, but it all felt fake. She had to put way too much effort in and it didn't seem worth it. After her mum passed away 3 years ago, everything that meant anything previously lost its luster. Except watching Ferdinand. He had just had another spectacular run in the next tournament, picking up the best player award. Every game he triumphed, she felt as if she shared in it too. But lately even that fell away.

She had gone on dates occasionally, but it felt forced again and she hated volunteering information about herself so most dates went nowhere. Physically as well she didn't liked being touched and wouldn't even concede a hug. She looked at Ferdinand's poster and laughingly said to it aloud, "I bet you don't have that problem."

She gazed at the poster for a few more minutes and coming to a decision, got off the bed and detached the posters and rolled them carefully up.

Ferdinand

As a matter of fact Ferdinand did not have that problem...

After a string of torrid love affairs, he wanted more. More than a year ago he met Illasabette. She was stunningly gorgeous. She was a model and a guest reporter on a sport show that interviewed him. After heavy flirting during the show and after, he asked her on a date. He was actually nervous when he asked her and she said yes of course.

They went to dinner at an exclusive restaurant and she was all over him. He became immersed in her green eyes and they kissed and brushed legs. He hadn't felt this unbridled desire before. She clearly felt the same way judging by the flame in her eyes. Before dinner ended she went to the bathroom and when she returned, placed a lacy scrap of something in his hand. It was her panties...

They went to his seaside place and he had his hands all over her tight black dress. Before they got in the door, her hands had slid under his shirt and he had unzipped her dress. As he lay her down on his bed, he pulled down the top of her dress to find her braless, her nipples hard, and her full breasts filling his hands. He pressed down on her slowly and covered her lips with his, no longer slow and soft, but needy and desperate, as if he was searching for something.

She got rid of his clothes quickly and their bodies gravitated to one another. It was pleasure and need and pure lust that brought them together frantically. Her perfectly toned arms felt their way up his muscled thighs and his hips and tapered waist. He felt her stomach muscles contract under him as she breathed in sharply as his hand hitched the bottom of her dress up to her waist. He was absolutely hard and he parted her legs firmly. She kissed his neck, her fingernails scratching his back as he entered her for the first time.

She moaned his name into his ear and he picked up his pace as he pushed into her harder and faster...

One year later...

Cordelia

She stepped into class lugging her huge textbooks. Tax lecture today. Great. Her messy hair fell into her eyes as she brushed it away annoyed. She got to her desk and and promptly dropped everything. Crap crap crap. She was late so everyone turned to look. There were a few sniggers before the lecturer cleared his throat and carried on. A firm hand held up her textbook before she could blink. She looked up to see a pair of laughing blue eyes and dark, disheveled hair.

"You've clearly made an entrance." He whispered with a skew smile. She glared back at him too embarrassed to respond.

He sat behind her that lecture and nearly every one after. He always had a pretty girl next to him and they spent the time chatting or canoodling. Yes she would use that ridiculous word! Yet he always turned out near perfect marks. He always greeted her with a smile and she always looked at him indifferently, annoyed at his noise making and the bimbo-esque company he kept. After a year she got used to him and would actually nod at his greeting.

It was her 19th birthday and she had gotten nothing from her father. No word at all. After her mother's death he had promptly married her mother's youngest cousin, a woman she despised and who was ten years his junior. He was on time with the university tuition, sent her an allowance that was just sufficient for living expenses and he was out of her life. She didn't know how or when it happened, it just did. They fell apart. Her mother understood her and made the effort. One night after her mother scolded her father for not even trying to get along with her, she overheard the conversation. Her father called her a cold child and lamented the fact that he didn't have a son who it would be much easier to relate to. In his new marriage her father got his wish and they had a son about a year ago.

She walked home blindly. She was just an outcast. She had no friends to speak of. No one at all. Nothing actually. She saw a signpost. Some advertisement for a tabloid magazine. "Ferdinand weds his Princess". She smiled bitterly. She really hoped in spite of everything that he was deliriously happy.

It started raining heavily. She was soaking wet as she trudged past people running for cover under near shop awnings. She trudged on ignoring it. The rain had soaked her completely. She had missed the last bus and was determined to just let nature damn her the way everything else in her life was damned.

Will

He drove down the road listening to his favorite rainy day song. Watching the sheets of rain splatter onto the cityscape, he was amazed at how beautiful it looked in an urban grey sort of way. He would have liked to paint it. He loved the business degree he was doing but art was his first love. He saw everything as art. Not just business, but love and hate and desire. They all had colors and strokes and texture. Some soft and loving, others hard and determined, while others aggressive.

He saw a familiar shape materialize on the pavement. It was her. As he drove down the road getting closer to her, her clothes were plastered to her slim figure and her bag dripped more water than a leaky bucket. As he slowed down pulling up next to her, he noticed how the dark hair, that he watched in front of him in lectures, was plastered down her back, leaving her cheekbones bare. Her dark eyes were stormier than the weather, and her sensual lips were set in a determined line.

She walked past him oblivious.

"Cordelia!" It was the first time he had ever said her name aloud.

She turned suddenly.

"Are you out of your mind woman? It's crazy out here! C'mon, I'll give you a ride home."

She stopped and faced him, the water dripping from her dark eyelashes as she looked at him.

"Thank you, but no. I'm fine." She turned and started walking again. Her voice sounded far away.

Thunder rumbled somewhere and lightning streaked the sky.

He got out of his car, slammed the door and stood in front of her.

"Wait! I'm not having your tragic death from getting struck by lightning on my conscience. Just get in." He shouted above the rain.

She glared at him.

"Fine." She said forcefully. She got in the car unceremoniously and slowly sat down.

"Sorry for wetting your seat. Wait, actually I'm not sorry. You asked for it." She muttered as he started up again.

"It's ok. As long as you're safe." He stared at her in between looking at the road ahead. She was such a puzzle. The heat was on high and her wet hair was now in bedraggled tendrils.

"I live in Green Point. It's across town." She said softly.

"And you what? Planned on swimming there?" He asked with his blue eyes trained on her.

She smiled slightly and it was amazing. He actually felt it, if that was possible. It was like the clouds had shifted and a pure ray of sunlight came through.

"Wow. Your face can do that? Watch out, don't pull a facial muscle." He teased her.

She gave him a wry glare and stared steadfastly ahead.

When they got to her house she gave him another sincere thank you and heaved her bag out. He stared at her retreating figure, suddenly inspired. He could see his palette of blues and grays and the occasional splash of deep, rich red. His hands itched for the blank canvas.

Ferdinand

He watched as her perfectly tanned arm stretched out and showed off the ring he had gotten her to her giggly friends. They were all impressed. He rolled his eyes as she told some story of how he surprised her with it and knew exactly what she wanted. When he proposed, it had actually been with his mothers ring. The only thing he had from his parents that his grandmother kept.

"Honey, you know I love it, but I just think that it's too valuable to wear everyday. I think I need something a bit modern, just for everyday use. I will still treasure the ring. I promise." She delivered this speech a few minutes after accepting his proposal.

He should have seen the cracks as clear as day then. But, he didn't want to. He was alone and felt more vulnerable than he had ever felt before. He wanted a real sort of family. It was going great between them before that. Obviously there were slight issues such as her friends, the parties which he hated, her slightly promiscuous past which given his own past he couldn't judge, but all relationships had that, right. They just had to compromise. It was the perfect time and he had just moved to a prominent team. He joined the elitist of football stars. He was in his best form ever.

They had just got back from honeymoon from some ridiculously expensive "island paradise". He sighed as he thought of the wedding which had been the epitome of lavish. But it was what she wanted. And he gave it to her. They just purchased a beautiful estate and things were looking up. As all their guests left, he clasped his hands around her waist breathing in her floral scent. She turned around and looked at him from adoring eyes.

"Thank you." She said seductively. He leaned down and felt her firm body against his.

"You can thank me by giving me what I told you I wanted yesterday." He breathed.

She slowly undid her yellow halter neck sundress and stepped out of it. She lay back on their leather couch and now naked, opened her long tanned legs and beckoned him with her fingers, biting her pink, glossed lips.

He purposefully removed his t shirt and his pants. He kissed up the inside of her thighs until he reached where they met. He slowly blew lightly on her wet lips, before licking them softly until she moaned and using her hands pulled his head down harder.

She rolled over and bent over the couch with her delicious ass pointing at him. He ran his hands over the perfect globes as he gripped them harder and drove into her wetness from behind. He came hard...

Later as he fucked her again as they showered together, he came thinking of his seed swimming deep into her womb making a baby. Their baby.

The next morning after getting him off languidly with her mouth, she left for breakfast. He woke up contentedly and walked down to the kitchen softly coming behind her to surprise her. He grabbed her suddenly and she cried out dropping the small box she was holding. She laughed as he kissed her. She knelt to pick up the box but he deftly retrieved it for her. "Medicine? Are you feeling okay babe?" He asked touching her forehead concerned.

He looked at the box again and his mood grew heavy.

"Birth control? But we agreed we would try and have a kid." He stared at her willing for an explanation.

"You wanted it. I just..." She sighed. "I'm a model, Ferdinand. I need my body the way it is. I worked really hard to get where I am today. Can't we wait?" She pierced him with her green eyes.

"I just want a family with you. We spoke about this Lissy." He sighed and touched her soft cheek. "I never got to have that when I was young." He stopped, his childhood clouding his mind.

She sighed.

"That's your issue you need to work through. A child won't fill that hole." He listened to her words like cold rain dripping down his back. He always would regard that as the most insightful thing she would ever say. "I'm 24; I'm young and have everything to look forward to. I love you but we both know our careers come first." Her words hit him like a gust of chilly air and with that she turned on her heel and left.

He sat down at the table and looked into his glass of orange juice.

Two years later...

Will

Cordelia looked into her glass of orange juice as he stared transfixed at her. His eyes traced the planes on her faced like elegant poetry being read. Wait, did he really think that? That's what she did to him. It was infuriating and exciting.

She looked up and he watched as her dark lashes rose to reveal a pair of deep brown eyes with flecks of gold. She smiled conspiratorially.

"Okay, how about that pretty blonde girl. The anthropology one with the eye thing." And she gestured to a twitchy eye movement.

He laughed as they sat at the corner diner having breakfast. It was their last year and they were having a sort of ball. It seemed pretty lame, but since they worked four hard years to get the opportunity they decided to just go. She was trying o find him a partner and suggested a girl who had a huge crush on him and batted her eyelids super seductively every time they met.

"It's more like this." And he fluttered his eyelashes animatedly.

She nearly spurted out the juice she was drinking. "No way, it's with more force." She batted her sooty lashes and he felt something in him stir.

isobelgal
isobelgal
22 Followers
12