Ice cream
Ingrid sighed as she fastened the buttons on your training jacket, her fingers moving with practiced ease. You didn’t help her, not even a little bit, your arms limp at your sides as she worked around them. She’d already struggled to get your training kit on, wrestling your limbs into the sleeves like she was dressing a reluctant toddler. You didn’t lift your feet when she pulled your socks on, didn’t even glance down as she tied your laces.
“Du er umulig,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.
You blinked up at her with wide, innocent eyes, your lower lip jutting out in the most pitiful pout you could manage. Ingrid simply sighed as she hauled you up into her arms.
Mapi, busy in the kitchen, turned at the sound of Ingrid’s approaching footsteps. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the way Ingrid was carrying you -your body draped over her arms, feet dangling, head resting dramatically against her shoulder. You weren’t making it easy, either, deadweight in her grasp, your limbs as floppy as a ragdoll’s.
“¿Qué ha pasado?” Mapi asked, wiping her hands on a towel.
“She won’t walk,” Ingrid grumbled, adjusting her grip on your waist. “She won’t do anything. I had to dress her myself.”
Mapi raised an amused brow. “Aw, pobrecita.”
“She’s not a pobrecita,” Ingrid huffed, dropping you into the chair at the dining table.
You made a little noise of protest, slumping forward against the table. Mapi crouched in front of you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.
“¿No tienes hambre, mi amor?” she asked gently, nudging your plate closer to you.
You turned your face away.
Mapi tried again, switching tactics. “Si comes, te doy un besito.”
Nothing.
Ingrid sighed from across the table. “If you don’t eat, you’re going to bed early.”
Still nothing.
Mapi shot Ingrid a playful glare. “Princesa, you scare her.”
“She’s not scared,” Ingrid said dryly, watching as you kicked your feet against the chair legs in stubborn defiance.
Mapi, ever the softer of the two, finally resorted to feeding you herself. She lifted a spoonful of food to your lips, her eyes pleading. “Por favor, mi vida.”
You huffed but reluctantly parted your lips. Mapi smiled triumphantly as she placed the spoon in your mouth, cupping your chin gently. You chewed, slow and sulky, but at least you were eating now.
Once breakfast was finished, Ingrid wasted no time ushering you toward the door. You resisted, dragging your feet, but she wasn’t having it. The moment you stepped outside, she wrapped an arm around your waist and all but lifted you into the car.
Mapi slid into the backseat with you, immediately tugging you into her side. You let yourself be held, pouting as you buried your face in her shoulder.
“Drama queen,” Ingrid muttered from the front.
You ignored her. You ignored both of them when they tried to talk to you, letting Mapi rub soothing circles into your back as she whispered sweet things in Spanish. By the time you arrived at training, you were no happier than you’d been that morning. Ingrid pulled you out of the car with little patience, her grip firm around your wrist as she led you toward the locker room.
The second you spotted Alexia, you yanked your hand free and rushed toward her. She was in the middle of changing, clad in just a sports bra and shorts, but she barely blinked before catching you in her arms.
She shot Ingrid and Mapi a questioning look over your head.
Mapi shrugged. “No quiere estar aquí.”
Alexia hummed knowingly, looking down at you. Your arms were wrapped around her waist, your face pressed into her stomach.
“¿Qué pasa, cariño?” she murmured, stroking your hair.
You pouted up at her, but when she kissed your forehead, you melted just a little.
Mapi called you back over, and though you hesitated, you went. Ingrid was watching you with that look -the one that told you you were already pushing your luck.
Mapi smiled as she wrangled your training jacket over your head. “Bien hecho, mi niña.”
Ingrid, who was sat on the bench, grabbed your hips and tugged you to stand between her legs, tilting your chin up. “Football comes first. Unless it’s a mental health day, you train. Okay?”
You nodded begrudgingly.
Mapi pressed another kiss to your hair. “Vamos, mi amor.”
Training was a struggle. You did everything slowly, dragging your feet through every drill, scowling the entire time. Ingrid wasn’t having it.
“Move,” she called sharply when she caught you lagging behind during warm-ups.
You stuck your tongue out at her.
Mapi snorted from beside her. “Ay, qué rebelde.”
Ingrid shot her a glare before turning her focus back to you. “You can run faster than that. Go.”
You groaned dramatically but picked up the pace.
Every shot you took was sluggish, every pass slightly off. You whined when the ball didn’t go where you wanted it to, even though you knew it was your own doing.
“Acting like a baby won’t get you out of training,” Ingrid said when she passed by you, her voice low enough that only you could hear.
You pouted harder.
Alexia came up beside you, nudging you gently. “Después de esto, ¿quieres helado?”
Your ears perked up at that.
She grinned. “Pero tienes que entrenar bien.”
You sighed but nodded. Ice cream was a worthy bribe.
Mapi smiled at the exchange, then turned to Ingrid with a smirk. “See? Maybe bribery is the way.”
Ingrid just rolled her eyes.
By the time training ended, you were in a slightly better mood. Alexia kept her promise, taking you to get ice cream with Mapi while Ingrid followed behind, shaking her head but secretly relieved.