Chapter Text
The breeze was cool against the bare skin of your face as you looked up at the training facility. It would have been a good idea to have grabbed a scarf before rushing out of the apartment this morning. Foresight is a wonderful thing when you have it.
Instead, you just remembered your coffee in a thermos and your messenger bag filled with everything you might need except for a hat and scarf.
So there you were, standing outside of this looming building, you looked down at your phone and grimaced. It was seven in the morning, you didn’t even have to be up this early, even for your morning classes in your undergrad. You shifted your weight, sliding your phone back into your jacket pocket and walked over to the entrance. Tugging on the door didn’t help. Pushing had the same result. Figures, this would be your luck on your first day, trying to be early and getting there so early that no one was even here yet.
You pulled out your phone again, checking the time, and dread fills you. Only a minute has passed since you checked last. Swiping up on the stupid device to unlock it, you quickly navigate to your email. With a grumble, you find the email containing the details for your first day. With a tap of your thumb, you start rereading the damn thing. Pay info, no, the days you worked, not quite, there, the time you had to be there. You bring your phone closer to your face, squinting your eyes, hoping that you didn’t get the time so horribly wrong. Or worse, getting the day completely wrong.
Your chest tightens as you scan the times and dates, Monday the sixteenth, yep, that’s right, at seven thirty in the morning. Ok, so you did get here a bit too early. But it was the right day and not too early to cause concerns. Some of the pressure lifts as you let out a shaky sigh of relief.
You walk back, your back hitting the solid form of one of the columns just outside the front entrance. It was going to be a long day, you could feel it in your bones and it was only three past seven. You sighed and wiped your forehead with the back of your wrist, pushing some of the baby hairs that had come loose from your high ponytail off your skin. Bringing down your hand, you closed your email app and opened Instagram.
Scrolling down on your feed, there wasn’t much. A few posts from old classmates from secondary school and some from undergrad, living their ‘best’ lives. Other posts, cats. Lots and lots of cats. Then, you stopped scrolling and looked up Bastard München. There it was, the first profile with the logo in its classic red and black with gold accents. A simple click and there were posts of last season’s highs, players’ top plays of the game, new welcomes, and of course, fun little posts like a Valentine's post with all the players saying some cheesy line.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of it. Most of them were awkward and stiff, having a slight panicked look in their eyes. Others looked bored with this little reel. But it was good engagement for the fans since the start of the season was soon and Valentine's this past weekend.
It was the sound of heavy footfalls that snapped you from your phone, causing you to look up and automatically shut off your phone. A familiar face greets you with the classic German stare. Otto Hartmann, head of the Bastard München Med team, one of your interviewers for this internship. A stern man in his mid-fifties with an equally stern face.
You slide your phone back into your messenger bag and push off the column, greeting him with a warm smile and a small nod.
“You’re here early,” He hums in a low tone, his eyes never leaving yours. “Good, we can get your badge picked up in the office and get you a few official shirts.” He walked past you while pulling back his jacket; there, clipped on his scrub pants, was a worn badge. With a practiced ease, he scanned it against a small black box beside the doors. It let out a soft beep and a soft click as the door unlocked.
You internally groaned as you watched him pull the door open and gestured for you to enter the building. Of course, they have that. Of course, the Bastard München training facility has keycards to let people in, otherwise random strangers would just waltz in.
You nod and take your first step into the looming building.
Cold. Even compared to the icy mornings of February, you were just in.
That was your first thought as you entered, unlike most of the buildings in Germany, it was icy cold with the air conditioning on blast. You could hear a soft chuckle behind you from Otto as he watched your body shiver. Yeah, scrub pants and a thin T-shirt were not going to cut it if you had to take off your thick winter jacket.
“Forgot to warn you about the temperature in here,” Otto muttered with a small smirk as he passed you to lead you to the security desk. “I should have had a note saying to bring a fleece, though I’m sure we have a spare light jacket lying around here, since I'm assuming you didn’t bring one?”
“No,” you tell him, “I didn’t think about the cold this morning or if it would be freezing in here.”
“It’s your first day, you live and then you learn.”
“But this is Doug,” Otto said, calling attention to the big man sitting behind the high desk. “If you have any issues getting in, you lose your badge, or just safety concerns, you come to him,”
Doug gave you a short nod before lowering his gaze back to the computer screens in front of him. You also nod, giving him a tight-lipped smile as you do, before looking back up at Otto.
His eyes were already on you. He nodded and then shifted. It took a second to realize he was walking again before your own legs started to move along with him.
“Make sure you get one of these,” he plainly said, gesturing to his retractable badge holder. “It’ll make it easier to get into the few places that are locked. You don’t want to carry your wallet around all day or unclip the thing every time,”
“And make sure to wear comfortable tennis shoes, you’ll be walking a lot, so don't try to look pretty with your shoe wear,” he continued in that cold monotone voice of his.
You nodded along, understanding the reason behind why he was saying this.
“Normally, the boys start at eight in the morning, after their breakfast, they come to us, we give them a quick medical check, making sure they are well enough to do all the training. Do you wanna tell me what tests we would do?” Otto finished with a glance down at you.
Your brain buffered for a moment, surprised at the sudden question but quickly recovered.
“Blood pressure and probably a mobility test?” You answered after a few moments.
“Yes, but also they have an app where they take little quizzes about their own body to let us know how they are doing,” Otto corrected, still looking forward. “That data automatically gets transferred to our tablets so we can better monitor them. We also do check ups on strains, but that’s more so during the middle of the season when they start pushing themselves too hard and start hurting themselves.”
You nodded, taking out a small notepad along with a pen to write it all down. Your handwriting was a bit more scribbly than what you’d like, but hey, it’s not exactly easy to write this down cleanly while trying to keep up with a giant.
“We’re also on standby when they train and especially when they are scrimmaging against each other,” he continued, “the players get out around two in the afternoon after they have finished their lunch and have their downtime, we, however aren’t always so lucky.”
“What do you mean by that?” You asked, tearing your eyes from the lined paper.
“Paperwork,” came Otto’s short and blunt reply. “We have to document everything. Their progress, any injury, and I mean any injury. Even a papercut needs to be on their charts.”
“Oh man,” You breathed out, cringing at how much paperwork that would be.
“It’s not all that bad,” He chuckled lightly. “Most of it is already on our forms, we just have to double-check it and send the progress to the analysts and the injuries get filed in the database. It's a lot easier nowadays than what it was when I first started around twenty years ago, back when it was all paper. And what, you weren’t even born yet, were you?” He asked, glancing down again.
“No, I was,” You muttered, “But might as well be close enough, I’m twenty-two,”
“You all get younger and younger each year,” he breathed out, amusement creeping in at the edges of his tone. “Down here,” He instructed as he turned to the left and walked down a hallway to the left.
“Our first stop, our offices,” Otto reached out and pulled at his badge, scanning it against another black lock. “This will typically be your first stop in the morning. We have a space for you where you can set your bag and any other extra stuff down, and a desk where you can fill out your own charting.”
You nodded along, following him into the office. Desks in the middle of the room, a couch in the corner, and a small fridge. Nice. It looked nice and clean in here, you thought as your eyes scanned the room.
“Here, this will be your desk,” Otto pulled out a chair and patted the back of it. You slowly walk over, eyeing the bareness of it. Glancing at the others, they all had little knick-knacks and photos of what you’d assume were loved ones, along with pens and a tablet charging. Yours had the same tablet and your badge lay out on it.
You removed your messenger bag and set it down on the chair. You picked up your badge and turned it over in your hand. This was real. This was your first job in your field and you couldn’t help but feel the burning pride in your chest.
“Don’t lose that,” Otto commented as he watched you pick up the piece of plastic. “It’s a pain to replace.”
“Got it,” You nodded, pulling out your phone from your jacket pocket and popping your phone case back and slipping the badge in. “I’ll make sure to order a clip as soon as I get back to my apartment,” you tell him before adding a reminder to your phone to do just that.
“Good, now,” He looked at his watch, “it’s still a bit early for the player to start filing in, but I can show you where the field, the pt room, and where we keep the supplies.”
“The fleece?” You asked, wondering if you could take off your thick jacket.
“Right,” Otto said, shrugging his own thick winter coat off and covering the back of his chair with it. “I usually keep on here in case someone forgets,” He muttered while walking over to a cabinet.
“Here,” he pulled out a light gray fleece that looked a size or two, too big.
You take it anyway, walking over to grab it before shrugging your own coat off and draping it over your chair. You shivered as the chilled air hit your bare forearms before slipping on Otto’s fleece. It was warm and softer than what you would expect from an older man like him.
“Ready?” Otto asked, sparing you another glance, already moving towards the door.
“Yep!” you chirped, smiling widely, already making your way to join him.
He huffed in acknowledgement, pushing the door open. You were right there behind him like a shadow, grinning with excitement.
The two of you walked for a bit, Otto pointing out restrooms and the break room, before reaching the field.
“This is where most of the players will be at in the afternoon, drills, running different scenarios, or just practicing in like three vs three,” he explained before turning and walking away.
And there he goes again, you thought. It would be helpful if he had a fucking bell on him, you thought to yourself, your eye twitching a little. At least to signal when he started walking again, so you didn’t feel like an idiot scrambling to catch up.
“This is the pt room, where we will help those with injuries stretch and test their mobility,”
“This is the clinic, where we treat scraps, breaks, and head injuries.”
“Do head injuries happen a lot?” You asked, looking up from your notes.
“More than you’d think but less than American football or rugby,” he smoothly answered, not even looking at you.
“That’s… reassuring,” you muttered out, pursing your lips together.
“Another thing,” Otto started, glancing back down at you. “While we can treat everyone, each individual medic has three players that they primarily look after. You will be able to see who you have on your tablet. I’ve already picked out everyone’s players for this season.”
Again, you nod along, really hoping your three weren’t accident-prone.
And like that, you consider how much trouble you’d be in if you put a bell on him, since Otto was, once again, moving along without a word of warning.
“Now let’s head back to the office, get your tablet and passwords set up,” he droned on as he walked so mechanically down the hallway.
“Ok,” You said, not sure what else to say in this situation.
The two of you walked, you trying to take note of where you are and how to get to the other places. In this massive building, you can already tell that at some point, you’d get lost.
Setting up your tablet with your passwords was like setting up your first electronic device with your dad. Slow and painful.
Like, you definitely knew how to do this, and could do it by yourself but Otto seemed to insist on being right there, hovering over you. Pointing everything out, and you mean every. Single. Thing.
You wanted to groan out loud at some points, but luckily, you got through it. And by that point, other members of the medic team started to file into the workspace.
The first to arrive was an older man close to Otto’s age, Stephen. He greeted you with a polite nod and nothing more, going on to mind his own business.
The next two walked in together, loudly. Arguing about some trivial thing that you didn’t know about.
The woman, Alice, was a short lady, maybe in her mid-thirties. Very round but had a sparkle in her eyes that made her look so incredibly kind. She smiled and gave you a small wave. Her eyes grew empathic as she watched Otto hover over you, pointing everything out.
The man who walked in with her, Karl, didn’t seem to share her kindness, looking over at you and rolling his eyes before settling down to get to work.
The last one to arrive was a younger man, Finn, who seemed to be only a year or two older than you. He was… cute. Mousy brown hair and rather wide shoulders that fit him very well.
Nope, you thought, shaking those things out of your head. This was a job. Not here to look at cute boys. That’s what happened in grad school, and you definitely didn’t need another repeat of… that. Plus, he wasn’t really your type anyway.
Once Otto was finally satisfied with how your tablet was set up, he finally moved away from hovering over your shoulder. Straightening his back out, he turned to address the small room. There were only a total of six people. They must hire more personnel when games are going on, you thought, scanning the rest of their faces.
“Alright,” Otto started, his eyes sweeping the other four medics. He introduced you with a small gesture. You give a nod and a small wave, almost bashful.
“Make sure to help her out,” he said in a low tone. “Now the players are starting to file in. Make sure you keep a close eye on the boys. The first game is in two weeks and we don’t want any injuries due to over-tension and them overextending themselves.”
Everyone nodded in near unison. Your eyes widen a bit at the group. They must have been working together for a long time now.
You unlocked your tablet, since it automatically shut off after a minute. You clicked the app where you could see your players and oh, yeah. They have started to fill out their morning forms.
And, ok yeah, those little icons of themselves were probably the cutest things you ever saw. They were small and angular and cute, and now you wanted one for yourself.
Moving on. Let’s see. You had Alwin Backman, Erik Gesner, and Alexis Ness. So a goalie, a forward midfielder and an offensive midfielder. Ok, that… might be something you have to look up to see if there’s a difference between a forward and an offensive midfielder.
But that’s besides the point now. You tap on each of their forms, and they seem to have nothing major going on. They seem to have normal appetites, energy, and sleep levels, which is wonderful for you… and for them.
You were about to ask what you guys do now, when the shuffling of chairs and moving started happening around you. Oh ok, on the move, you thought as you also pushed back your chair.
Otto was already out the door, his tablet in hand, while the others followed. You scrambled to push your chair in.
“Alice,” you called out, “sorry, but we are going to the pt room, right?”
Alice stopped and waited for you to catch up with her, that same warm smile working over her lips as she looked up at you.
“Yep, here, let me see who you got,” she hummed, gesturing to your tablet.
You showed her and shifted a bit uncomfortably.
“Backman, Gesner, and Ness,” she stated calmly. “You shouldn’t have too much trouble with them,” she seemed to pause, like she wasn’t telling the whole truth. But you didn’t press.
“You’ve done check ups before, right?” She asked.
“Yeah, I’ve done blood pressure and mobility checks before,”
“Good, if there is something that feels weird and you want another opinion, just grab me, ok? Plus, these guys know how this routine goes,” she reassured you, gently patting your shoulder.
That did help calm your nerves. You smile to yourself and follow the little gaggle of medics down the hall.
You take a breath and look at the twenty or so players waiting for your little group. Ok, maybe you weren’t as ready as you thought. Why the hell were they all so tall and built? Like, of course, yes, they were most likely to have more muscle mass due to being pro athletes, but damn ok.
So you swallow your nerves and get to work,
Backman and Gesner were easy, in and out. Gesner was a bit flirty, in a weird way… mostly saying that you were pretty in a… cute way, not his type though, he just wanted some model to hang off of him. Weirdo.
But then there is Ness. You peeked your head out the door, calling him back into the pt room. He was talking to another one of the players, a taller man with blond hair with rattails dipped in royal blue. Kaiser, you remembered from the Instagram post this morning. And how he made rattails look so good, you’d have no idea.
Ness turned his head to you, those big magenta eyes and matching curls. A soft smile graced his face, like a turtle. Odd… Cute, but odd.
You gestured to him, and he complied, giving Kaiser a short wave.
You stole another glance up at him as the two of you walked back to your station. He didn’t say anything, not that he needed to. It was just the other two; at least say good morning to you before you did your check up on them.
“If you can just sit-”
But before you could finish, Ness already sat on the table, looking down at you with a polite smile. Polite. That was probably the best way to describe him, you thought as you took his blood pressure.
You tap on the tablet, noting his blood pressure on the chart.
“Ok, do you mind if I check your mobility?” You asked, directing your eyes back to his.
“Not at all,” he said with that same polite smile, moving to lie on his back.
You check his hip flexors first, bringing his leg up, around, and then back down and repeating the same thing on the other leg. They seem fine, nothing is hitching or catching when you move them.
“So,” you started, glancing at his face. “Any previous injuries?”
“Isn’t that all on your tablets?” He countered with that smile still etched onto his lips.
“Yeah,” you said, moving to check his knees, “but I do like hearing it from the players first before reading their charts,”
He let out a small hum, and you can’t read what is on his mind, like at all.
“Nothing too serious,” he finally said after a moment. “I did hurt my ankle back when I was still learning to play, but nothing too noteworthy,”
It was your turn to hum then. Your eyes flickered down to his ankles before moving on to them. You rolled them, twisting, testing their flexibility. And they were quite flexible.
“Roll on your stomach for a moment, please,” you tell Ness.
He blinked in a bit of surprise but did what you asked, maneuvering himself to lie down on his chest.
Your hands touched his calf and you hummed again. They were a bit tight. Not as bad as what they could have been, but still a bit noticeable.
“When was the last time you released your calves?” You asked, your thumbs gently pressing down on his muscles.
He let out a small hiss, probably from tightness.
“Can’t say I remember,” he replied, still in that polite tone.
“I want you to start releasing them then,” you bluntly said, still working on rubbing them and releasing some of the built-up tension. “I’ll do it in the morning but after practice, you need to make sure you’re doing it, and you can just take a foam roller and run your calves over it.”
A hand moves from his calf, dipping under the table to reach for the lotion. You give it a couple of pumps before lathering it on both hands and going back to his calves.
Your hands glide down his skin, working on the tension.
“You don’t want these to be too tight,” you started, working on his. “You can limit your flexibility in your ankles or hurt your Achilles tendon, which is not fun.”
He let out a small grunt of agreement, still trying to hold onto the smile. Funny, you thought to yourself, how hard he was trying to keep that smile on.
Once you were satisfied with his loosened muscles, you wiped the excess lotion off.
“Ok,” you said, smiling at him, “you are good to go. Let me know if you need anything, alright?”
Ness just gave you another small polite smile before sliding off the table and then giving you a short wave as he exited the pt room.
The rest of the day went smoothly, standing by the rest of the medics as the team worked out. Weight training, drills, then a light snack before going onto the field.
You made light conversation with Alice, learning that she has a kid who's four years old. She showed you some pictures and her daughter might have been one of the cutest kids you’ve seen. Twin pigtails with her mother’s blonde hair and bright blue eyes, with a smile that beams.
The two of you cooed at the photos, your cheeks hurting from how much you were smiling. Karl, of course, had to make some snide remark about no phones out during the workday. Both Alice and you shared a look before returning to coo at her daughter in Christmas PJs, unwrapping some presents.
That’s when the day leads you to the afternoon. The dreaded charting. It wasn’t as bad as Otto made it out to be. Maybe since it was only your first day, maybe since it was still early in the season, but putting the quiz data into your charts wasn’t that bad.
And with only having three charts, easy money right there.
“Hey, Alice,” You said, looking up at her from across your desk. “I know Otto said that we are all allowed to help the players but how does that affect our charting?” you asked, leaning forward.
She stopped for a moment.
“Well, I guess you’d have to ask what their lead would want you to do,” She said after dropping her hand from her chin. “Like one of my players gets a sprain and you fix him up? I’d want you to write up what happened and then pass it along to me so I can file it away.”
Ok, you thought, made sense, get more charting experience for you and she’s made sure it was right.
You nodded, grinning at her.
“So, do and then ask what that person wants,” you suggested.
“Yeah, best course right there,” She agreed.
“Oh, if you aren’t too busy, can you review my charting?” you asked, holding up the tablet. “I just wanna make sure I’m submitting it in the right format and place,”
She nodded and motioned for you to come over. So you do, rolling your chair beside her.
She takes a long look at each of them, humming in approval.
“Yep,” she said after a long time. “These look solid to me. Check in if you get an injury or something other than the check ups and tests.”
“Got it,” you nodded. And then yawned.
You rubbed your eyes, trying to wake yourself up. Yeah, the work day was over but you still needed to get home. A deep sigh escaped you, causing the two of the other medics, whose names you don’t remember quite yet, to turn and glance at you. The younger guy looked up at you with sympathy, and the other older man had looked at you with amusement. You dipped your head in apologies, not meaning to disturb them.
Thinking back to your players, you didn’t feel like you had a good read on the three football players, too intense, so focused on becoming stronger, which wasn’t a bad thing. It just made it harder to get the vibe from them. Especially that Ness, but that was a problem that would have to be solved along the way. But for now though, it was time for you to head home to your bed and dinner made by one of your roommates.
After gathering up your bag and waving bye to your coworkers? Mentors? Anyways, you got up to leave, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Giving your chair a small push inward, making sure that your tablet is charging, you finally start heading out of the medical office. You weave your way through the hallways and wave bye to Doug before exiting the building.
It wasn’t much better outside compared to indoors, being mid-February and all. You shiver, wishing again you had a scarf. But you take out your wireless earbuds and place one in. Your thumb hits the play button on your phone before you shove it back into your bag.
It wasn’t a long walk to the U-Bahn entrance, the closest one being only a few blocks away from the facility. Going down the stairs, taking out your phone to scan your pass, waiting for the subway, it was all second nature at this point, since it was how you got to your uni for the last four years.
Like clockwork, the train pulled up to the platform after you waited for all of four minutes. You waited until people shuffled out before making your way into one of the less crowded cabins.
Twelve stops, you thought as you looked at the map on your phone before grabbing onto one of the poles. Twelve stops was about twenty minutes. Yeah, you could stand for that long, having sat for the last hour.
So you stand by the pole, arm loosely around it as you pull up a word game app.
Solve level, stop, people exit, people board, new level. Repeat. You’d probably have to start adding more books on your phone to listen to if this is your commute from now on. You put your phone in your jacket pocket and just closed your eyes, letting your body rock with the train.
When your eyes opened again, it was the twelfth stop and the electronic voice said in broken German the station name. You sighed and pushed yourself off of the pole before waiting for the doors to slide open.
They released with a hiss before parting, letting you step onto the platform. Then up the stairs, to the left and walking three blocks west and two blocks south.
Your ruffle through your bag as you walked through the bare courtyard, trying to find your key ring. Unfortunately, it was long after you reached the entrance to your apartment building before you found your keys. With a grumble, you pull the two keys out, with an embarrassing amount of keychains looped on next to them.
The green one unlocked the building, the blue one unlocked the apartment. Green one in, fuck wrong direction, turning the key to the right, pushing the door open. Take the key out. Not embarrassing today, you thought to yourself, feeling proud of yourself that you didn’t fumble with the door too much, especially without anyone watching.
Too many late nights, where that happened before. The old lady who lived in the apartment on the second floor gave you and your roommate such a dirty look. It was almost enough to make you completely sober. You still shiver about it at the thought.
Three flights of stairs later and twisting the blue key to the right, of course, you’d never turn it to the left to open it. Totally not. You pushed the door of apartment 315 open and were greeted by the sweet smell of something baking.
Your mouth instantly started watering. So Chloe was definitely home. You kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag by the entrance. Shrugging off your coat, you tried to peek in the living room, seeing if anyone else was over.
“Hello?” You called out in English. “Chloe? Sophia?”
Excited shouts of your name came from the kitchen, the French accent thick as the taller lady tripped over her own feet to greet you.
“Welcome back!” The French woman greeted you with two kisses on your cheeks. “How was your first day?”
“It was all good, met a lot of players,” you muttered out, returning the kisses to her. “Also, what are you making? It smells amazing in here,”
“Oh!” She chirped, her long hair flowing behind her as she headed back into the kitchen. “I was making chocolate croissants along with a cinnamon croissant,”
You had to close your eyes for a moment as dread filled you. The kitchen was probably a mess. The amount of butter she used. Costs add up in your brain before you let out a shaky breath. It’s fine. She’s loaded. She buys her own ingredients with her own money. Not with your guy's grocery store money.
You picked up your bag and walked into the kitchen. And it was just as wrecked as you thought it would be.
“Here!” Chloe all but shoved a chocolate croissant in your mouth before you could comment on the state of the shared kitchen. “I pulled these out about ten minutes before you walked in!” She exclaimed brightly.
You wanted to protest the sudden invasion of your mouth. You really did but with that perfectly flaky crust, the soft layers and that delicious melted dark chocolate. A moan escaped your throat as your eyes fluttered shut.
“Fuck,” you moaned out in German. “Chloe, this is your best thing you’ve ever made,” you complimented her.
She beamed and clapped her hands together before turning and flitting about the small kitchen. You watched her and decided to dismiss the mess from your mind. It normally would get cleaned up by her or by Sophia, so it didn’t have to be your problem.
So, you just headed to your room, pushing the already ajar door open. You drop your bag, making sure to take your phone out before you head to your bed. Speaking of your bed, there he was, lying spread out on the sheets. The most handsome and pretty perfect boy of them all.
Mocha.
You beamed at the soft brown-furred baby all stretched out on your duvet. White little paws in the air and twisted in a way that looked uncomfortable, like most cats.
Then your alarm went off, ruining the moment. Mocha jumped up, bouncing on your bed a bit, his large green eyes staring up at you with disdain before jumping off your bed. You sigh but look at your phone regardless.
Right, you thought after looking at the banner. You needed to order a retractable badge holder clip.
Swiping up on your phone, after shutting off that alarm, of course, and looking for a fun clip. And you found one, after a little bit of searching on your browser. You had to stop and laugh at it; it was a small cat that looked a bit like Mocha holding a Molotov cocktail in one paw and a gas can with the caption, "Let it burn," in German. Yeah, that is fun. You click on it and order the cute little thing, a bit surprised that it will be delivered tomorrow.
But of course, the door slammed shut for the apartment and you knew Sophia was back. Loud gasps and shouts of excitement erupted from the kitchen, followed by squeals and kissing noises. Ok, never mind about dinner tonight, just ordering takeout and avoiding your happily in love roommates.
“Should we have really let her have Ness?” Alice asked, glancing at Karl.
He shrugged, not looking up as he plugged in his tablet.
“Better than letting her have Kaiser,” he retorted. “Then she’d have to deal with both of them.”
“You’re right but someone else could have taken him,” she muttered, leaning back in her chair. “He’s not exactly… easy to deal with,”
“Listen, I had to deal with him last year,” he said, giving a bored look at Alice. “He’s not the worst, but if she can’t handle him, maybe she needs to rethink what she wants to work in.”
“You’re such a dick,” Alice sighed. “But… she should be fine, she does seem strong,”
“Whatever,” Karl sighed, standing up, “just get out of here, I feel shitty if I leave before you.”
“Asshole,”