darrus (darrus) wrote,
darrus
darrus

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Fanfic


I'm tagging it as "Perhaps Love" - just in case. Not sure if it's related to the series or not. Just a couple of words.


Snowfall In Sahara
Author
: darrus
Rating: PG
Disclamer: I never said it really happened


She’s just tripped.

Slipped on a thin layer of melted snow and water on a pavement. She wasn’t looking, was too busy trying to find her car keys and balancing a heavy paper bag filled with fruits on her left hand. Unused to walking on high heels – what possessed her to put these fancy shoes on today, when the weather is more winter-like than it was in winter? Such clumsiness, and there are so many people at the street right now because the working day has ended.

And someone catches her by the elbow, not allowing her to fall. She looks at the hem of her white raincoat – stained with mud, big brown splashes all over the front, she smiles, embarrassment evident on her face, and looks at the immaculate dark-grey suit of a man still holding her by the arm, notices the logos on the buttons and thin stripes of his tie, and then gathers the courage to look at his face. She sees the smile on his lips, and a dark hair, and a face that seems to be oddly familiar, and in his left hand he is holding a big orange – he’s caught it in a free fall, like he’s caught her.

And for a second they just look at each other before she lowers her head again.

“Thank you”, mutters she, barely audible.

“Are you alright?” Asks he with a hint of concern, and places the fruit back in her bag.

“Yes, fine, thanks”, answers she quietly.

And they fall silent again, because there’s nothing really to add to that, and it’s more than strange that he’s still holding her by the arm and she still hasn’t pulled away, and he’s still smiling at her and her head is still lowered, her gaze averted. He’s the first one to come out of this trance, he releases her hand, straightening and taking a step away.

“Well, take care then”, he says, and it doesn’t sound like a reprimand.

“What’s your name?” She asks in this same quiet tone, surprised at her own question and embarrassed again for no reason.

“Bernd”, and he waves to her and leaves, disappears in the crowd while she’s putting her bags on a back seat. There’s no sign of him when she looks around briefly before getting in the car, just people walking around and the snow lies half-melted on the pavements.

She should be home in no time if the traffic is not too heavy

 

26.03.2008

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