darrus (darrus) wrote,
darrus
darrus

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Coach OTP fic - Perhaps Love


YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL

Author
: darrus
Fandom: German National team
Pairing: Klinsmann/Loew + OFC
Rating: PG 
Language: English
Warning: RPS

Disclaimer: I still don't know people mentioned in this story and I still hope it isn't true. The plot is still only my fantasy

Summary: Evening in a hotel in Athens. OFC's POV

Author's notes, previous chapters and music here

Timeline for the series is here 


You’re Beautiful

 

My life is brilliant – this is the best word I could use to describe it.

 

I am young, and others call me ‘good-looking’, and I can claim that I am smart. The place I call home is a proud Barcelona, my parents are more than well-to-do, my friends are decent and interesting people, and my boyfriend is as serious and decent as I am, with a career perspectives that can make one’s head spin. Studying in one of the best Universities of Europe, on my way to getting married, living a rich and interesting life – this is what I am.

 

Everything in my life is going according to plan, everything is as it should be, without crazy stunts and unexpected detours, and though it may sound boring, this is the way of living I am used to. I don’t mind knowing in advance what I will be doing in two days or even in two years. This is how my family lives, this is the only way I know, and I like it.

 

This little vacation in Athens was planned in advance too, and my mother always says that visiting other countries and learning about other cultures is a very important thing, so such trips have become a usual thing since I was a child. The only thing that we didn’t include in our plans was this crazy night of football that coincided so unluckily with my holiday. No wonder that we didn’t think about this possibility, honestly – I never cared about football, such a silly and pointless game that I can’t understand. Though now, watching this red sea of people filling the ancient streets I feel something close to envy – because they have no problem with singing strange songs and running around in strange clothes with their faces painted and feeling happy because someone has kicked the ball into the net. I am not like that.

 

No, I can’t understand how someone can want to be there, when the weather is so hot and the crowd is so loud, I much prefer to be sitting here in a hotel, in a big and comfortable hall where the air is well-conditioned, and though there is nothing really interesting to do, I’m content with watching people who are spending this late evening here too.

 

There is a young family with a child, eating their ice-creams and laughing, and two old men playing cards quietly. The woman in red shirt telling something off to the man sitting next to her – I can imagine that he is her husband. Young woman standing in front of the big mirror – she somehow resembles the Snow-White, and the thought makes me smile.

 

Yes, I love watching people – those who live the same measured and quiet life as I do, all of them seem to be close to me in a way, but different in the same time, and looking for these differences is almost a game that fascinates me the most.

 

Maybe it is a childish amusement – watching other people and recreating situations they are in my mind, adding details and motives, but I loved doing it since my childhood. These two young girls I imagine to be sisters who spend their vacation without parents for the first time. And this man sitting in front of me – he’s…

 

He’s beautiful. And though I know that this word is not used to describe men, ‘handsome’ doesn’t fit at all. He’s beautiful, plain and simple.

 

And it’s not the way he looks, though his appearance is nothing to be ashamed of. His hair is dark, and eyes are dark too, and his face is pleasant and open, so sincere. I can’t even say how old is he, he may be thirty or he may be of my father’s age, but strangely it doesn’t matter at all. He is fascinating, and yes, beautiful.

 

Looking at him, I imagine his voice to be low and soft like velvet, and his hands will be very gentle despite his strength. He is caring and understanding – this is what I think looking at his face, half-hidden by the book he is reading. His laughter will sound very pleasant, and I can see him laughing much at every thing possible.

 

He’s nothing like men who surround me in everyday life, he is a stranger, but I feel somehow connected to him in this moment. This is a man I wish was there for me, the hero… Yes, there’s no white horse in sight, but he – the thought that comes suddenly – he doesn’t need a white horse to be a Prince…

 

Maybe he notices my look, or maybe it’s a coincidence, but he turns his head to look in my direction. Our gazes lock for a second, and I smile, looking in his bright dark eyes, and he smiles back. He’s beautiful, it’s all I can think about.

 

And maybe it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but I stand up and start walking towards him. I will never forgive myself if I let him go, this is the only thing I’m sure of, and it doesn’t matter that in my correct and well-planned life there is no place for adventures, and maybe there’s no place for this man too…

 

He stands up, and he is still smiling this kind and open smile, but before I am able to speak to him another man appears near us. Bright and golden, with blond hair and blue eyes, he looks like winter and like the sun, handsome and impressive. And the next moment my… Prince… turns to the newcomer, and his smile changes, and I’ve seen it so many times watching other people – the way someone looks at the person who means the world to him.

 

And I’m still able to ask him some silly question, something like ‘what time is it?’, and he answers, smiling at me, but in his eyes there is nothing but the man standing right next to him. And I understand, smiling and saying my thanks and leaving these two to their peace.

 

There is no place for me in his world, just like there’s no place for him in mine, but still I’m feeling myself a bit sad. This illusion, this moment was so perfect, like a dream, and I wish it could last…

 

Turning to look at him one last time, I whisper to myself: “You’re beautiful”. I will remember him, I think, though I know it’s useless. But I don’t want to forget…

 

I saw your face in a crowded place

And I don’t know what to do

‘Cos I’ll never be with you

 

- This girl obviously laid her eyes on you, - Jürgen is laughing.

- What girl? – Asks he distractedly. He’s too busy with looking at his lover, too much time was spent apart and now he can’t get enough of the man he thinks to be the most beautiful in the world.

- The one who just asked you about the time. Did you see how she was looking at you?

- I didn’t, - and yes, he didn’t, but the fact that Jürgen noticed it and is asking about it makes him feel good, as if he needed more proof that Jürgen cares.

- Jogi, you surprise me. Though no wonder women are taking interest in you, - Jürgen touches his shoulder. – You’re beautiful.

 

23.05.2007

 

tbc

Tags: coach otp, fanfiction, football, klinsmann, loew, perhaps love, slash, soccer
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