Inconspicuously, you tried to give Antonio a sign to tell him you were free. You were playing football in the sports class today and even if you weren’t that good at it you were having a lot of fun. Ludwig and Lovino were constantly stealing the ball from each other as were Alfred and Feliciano.
When the German passed it to Antonio, you jumped up and down to get his attention at the other side of the field. Come on! I’m over here! You wanted to shout but just as you were about to open your mouth, the cheerful Spaniard spotted you, sending the ball flying over to where you stood.
Stepping back to catch it on your chest, you wobbled and in an instant the whole of the world seemed to fly upwards.
“Bella! Are you okay?!” You heard and before you knew it, you were surrounded by your teammates and friends. “I’m alright, I think.” You muttered, groaning as you sat up. You rubbed the back of your head gently, feeling a bump forming where you’d hit it.
“I’m so sorry!” Antonio cried, holding your hand in his. “I didn’t think this would happen!”
You shook your head at his dramatics. “It’s okay Toni, I guess I just misjudged and tripped.” He helped you to your feet, but the moment you put pressure on your left foot, a jolt of pain shocked through you.
Biting your lip, tears started forming in your eyes. Antonio saw this and he put an arm around you, so you wouldn’t fall. “Can you walk do you think?” You nodded, but kept a hold on him. Like that you hopped along a bit, one of his arms tightly around your waist.
He sat you down on the bench at the side, the rest of the class being put back to work by the teacher. “Does this hurt?” Antonio asked, stretching your injured foot out slightly. Wincing, your eyes watered again and you looked away to hide your tears.
The teacher gave you an icepack which you kept pressed gingerly against your bare skin, the shoe you’d taken off lying on the ground by itself. Antonio sat by you, watching your face anxiously for any sign of pain.
When you shifted slightly, your leg moving only a miniscule bit, another wave of pain coursed through you. “Hey, you know you can cry in front of me.” He said, inspecting your facial expression. “I don’t want to it. It’s weak.” He chuckled at your answer, sliding closer to you.
“I don’t think so. Being able to show your emotions makes you stronger, so crying certainly doesn’t make you weak.” You stared at him. “Really?” He nodded, smiling sweetly at you.
Carefully, you pressed your fingertips along your foot, in order to find out which place was most affected. When you came across a particular sore spot, you didn’t hold back your tears.
They streamed down your face, partially because of the pain but also because of the embarrassment.
“You idiota! What did you do to make the bella cry!” A ball was shot straight at Antonio’s face as he was reaching for you, wanting to comfort you, making him fall backwards off of the bench. “Lovi!” He whined, rubbing his head as you had before.
“Don’t call me that!” Came the reply from across the pitch. Antonio pointed an accusing finger at him. “You could’ve hit (y/n)! Don’t do that again! Ever!” He shouted, kicking the ball swiftly back to the other side.
Antonio nodded at himself, satisfied now the ball was back in play. He didn’t reclaim his seat next to you though, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips.
“Toni? What are you doing?”
He turned, dazzling you with the smile he was wearing. “I’m going to protect you if the ball comes this way! Don’t worry!” He took a goalie’s stance, his green eyes not straying from the ball.
“I’ll protect you no matter what!”