"The English invented it, the Brazilians perfected it…"
…………..
………………….
…………….
……………..
"Can't we do something else?"
"No. You wanted to learn, remember?"
A growl.
"I do not like you right now."
"Well, maybe if you didn't have such a stubbornly big head, we would've had progress by now…"
"Fine."
"Fine."
He kicks the ball lightly.
"Okay, now try and lead it to the goal."
"…"
A stare.
He smacks his forehead.
"That's the goal." His finger leads the way to a simple white goal on the other side of the field.
"Oh."
"Just…kick it the way I did." He says with a wave of dismissal.
…
The ball fumbles.
"I feel stupid."
"Maybe you are." He mumbles.
"What was that?"
"Nothing…"
"Huh…"
…
"…This," A shrug, "This soccer stuff is…"
…
"He smirks.
"Too much for your greatness to even consider doing?"
…
"Yes."
…He scoffs, "What? Would you rather be down at the beach, playing in the water?"
"That would be nice."
"I swear, this naivety is spreading like a disease…"
…Blinking.
He rubs his chin, "Tell you what, I'll let you go…"
…
…
"If you can beat me. Whoever gets to score one goal, wins." There was a mischievous suaveness in his voice, once again.
…
….
"But, I can hardly play."
"You're the one who wanted to learn in the first place. It's not my fault you always wanna prove that you're better than everyone."
An instant frown.
"What exactly are you saying?"
He tosses the ball in the air, catching it with one hand and balancing it with a finger.
…Show-off.
"Oh, nothing. Just that you're an impatient perfectionist with a very hard head."
The ball twirls in complete balance.
"…"
…
…
"What's a matter?" He opens his eyes smugly.
"Dontcha wanna play in the water with the others?"
"…"
The ball continues to twirl.
He grins at his opponent. His so-called little pupil.
Twirl…twirl…twirl.
SBAM! A kick.
The ball flies across the field.
His mouth drops, "Dude, no way!"
It bounces into the net.
And guess what?
…
….
….
….
Goal.
She tackles him to the ground from behind, his face eating the dirt. She was riding on his back with his hands restraint. As if she just hog-tied her enemy.
Thank you, Clay.
"Yes way." A smirk spreads across her face.
He fidgets. She laughs at this, punching a fist into the air. Weakening her grip lock on him.
"Wahoo! Dragon of Fire: one. Annoying Windbag: zip."
"Zilch."
"Zero!"
The boy spat grass out of his mouth, raising his head.
"Maybe," He manages to escape her hold, flipping on top of her. The wind dragon leans down toward her shocked face.
"But I'm still way hotter."
…Hmmm, don't know what to say about this one. It isn't exactly shockfic material, is it? And yet…here it is. I just wanted to try and prove the comparisons between Omi and Kimiko…and, about using Raimundo…again. I apologize, it's just…I just love using him a s a foil or as a main! It's very fun to write with him around…he's very real. Or at least, real enough to keep you ladies wrapped around his little hot Brazilian finger.
Tha's my home boy right there.
But, back to the comparisons…Omi really wants to be the best for reasons I would like to theorize further in another fic, while Kimiko…Kimiko believes that she has to prove herself to the others because she's the only girl in the group and, thanks to a certain sexist, I can see why her hot head is so intimidated…she doesn't want to be labeled as helpless as far as I'm concerned…
Ohhh…