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After the second goal scored by Argentina, Jude knew, deep down that the game was over. No matter how many more minutes the officials added to the clock, it was too late and England could do nothing as they watched their chance slip out of their hands.
Jude watched as his teammates grew increasingly desperate by the second, their kicks more erratic as they ran for their lives. In his head, the words Erling had said to him a few days ago rang through his head. England had a chance that was for sure, they had one of the best teams in the world and Jude knew they were good. But on the other side of the field was Argentina and Messi, the reigning World Cup Champions.
And after the second goal, Jude saw hope draining from his teammates eyes. He could only push himself to run faster, to try and make up the goal difference. But in the end, the whistle blew and the crowd in blue cheered. His shoulders slumped and his eyes burned. His mates were in disarray, distraught and disappointed as the rest of the team scattered onto the field.
Declan came over and clapped him on the back, a weak smile on his face as he tried to comfort him. Jude mechanically said something back and tugged him in for a quick hug, wishing that he was hugging Erling instead.
But Erling was an ocean away, and time doesn’t wait for anyone.
Jude moved robotically to comfort every one of his teammates, his eyes still watching each moment he missed and each chance not taken. They were eventually ushered off the field and into the locker rooms, half of the team was crying openly. Sniffles and hiccups accompanied the shuffling of clothes.
The team official and coach walked in, each man said a short speech, always ending with the reminder that they were going to play France in a few days. But everyone knew that no one was actually listening, their crushed dreams too loud to overhear anything else.
Jude bit his lip as he blinked the tears from his eyes. He knew what he had to do for this match, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. Jude knew it was a team sport, that this was a game that was dependent on the details and a single mishap could lead to a goal they determined the outcome. However, he couldn’t shake off the thought that he should’ve done more.
He saw it in the England crowd, their disappointment shown through their tears and their curses. Frowning fans that flew to Atlanta to support their team that lost.
Jude pinched the bridge of his nose, reaching into his bag to pull out his phone.
Erling:
Call me when you’re free yeah?
Jude felt his heart warm, as he pressed his phone to his ear, listening to the beep of every second the line was left unanswered. Finally, it connected.
“Jude?”
”Hi Erling.” He breathed out, his heartbeat finally settling down evenly.
“You guys did great.”
“You watched?”
”Of course I did.”
”Thank you.”
Jude watched the majority of the England players get on their phone, texting their families and friends while wiping away the last of their tears. Disappointment written in their bodies but stubborn determination shining through. It would take a while for everyone to get back to normal. These kinds of losses are the ones that would haunt the players in each fierce goal and assist.
”Really, Jude. You did amazing.” And Jude could always trust Erling because he doesn’t lie.
“Thanks mate, ‘m just disappointed you know. There were so many things I could have done differently—“
”Many things could have been done differently, you could’ve gone against another team instead of Argentina.” Erling said firmly. “No use in thinking like that.”
“I feel like I disappointed everyone. My family, the team, the fans…”
Fucking hell, was this how Erling felt after losing to them? It would’ve been worse for him, he was the star that everyone was rooting for.
”You will get over it.” Erling reassured him.
I had to. They both heard in the silence.
“I miss you.” Jude said honestly, he missed spending time together and cuddling under the sheets. He missed Erling’s humor and his sharp wit. He missed his soft lips and large figure.
“I miss you too elskling.”
Then, a hand came over and gave him a tap on the head; it was Declan, who had a mischievous smile on his face. Jude quickly covered the speaker with his hand.
“What?”
”Who are you calling with such a nice blush on your face bruv?”
Jude shoved him back, “None of your business.”
Declan smiled wider, “It doesn’t happen to be a certain blonde—“
“Declan…”
”Norwegian…”
“Rice, I swear!” Jude could offhandedly hear Erling losing it over the phone. Other people were starting to catch on too, everyone who was in their general vicinity looked up from what they were doing to chirp him too.
“Named Erling— Haalmmph—” Jude slapped his left hand over Declan’s mouth, who licked his palm and backed away laughing.
”Bloody fucking prick.” Jude muttered into the phone, his face red from embarrassment as he flipped off a few guys around him that made kissy faces at him.
Erling laughed warmly, “Teammates are like that aren’t they.”
”You heard it?”
“The part where Rice said you were blushing? Yeah.” Jude could practically see the infuriating smile on Erling's face.
“Shut it.”
Erling stifled a laugh, “Okay okay.”
”I’ll phone you once I get back, Erling.”
”Alright.”
”Isn’t it late over there?” Jude frowned, just because Norway is out of the World Cup doesn’t mean Erling isn’t busy.
”I’ll stay up for you.” Erling said easily, as if he isn't damaging his health just for him.
”It’s unhealthy.” Jude reprimanded.
“Not seeing your face is unhealthy.” Erling flirted back.
”Shut up.”
He laughed, “love you.”
Jude smiled, “…love you too.”
In the corner of his eye he saw Harry look knowingly between him and his phone, Jude stuck his tongue out at him. England might have not made the World Cup final, but his heart was with Erling in Europe and he still had one more match left.