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Summary
“Wait, are you jealous?” Pedri asked incredulously. “Ferran, I spend literally every day at home with you. I get to see Unai maybe four times a year if our schedules line up that way. Of course I want to spend as much time with him as I can!”
Pedri apparently interpreted his silence as anger, scoffing as he finished tying his laces, and stood up. “I’m allowed to have other friends, Ferri. Don’t be weird.”
He felt the words like a slap as Pedri walked away. Logically, he knew that Pedri hadn’t meant it to hurt him, but that was just it, wasn’t it? Ferran was being weird. His fucked up, perverted mind had completely misinterpreted Pedri’s platonic feelings for him and it was no one else’s fault that he was spiralling as a result of it.—
Ferran's been in love with his best friend for as long as he can remember, but when the World Cup forces him to contend with how unwanted his feelings are, perhaps the only thing left to do is walk away.