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princessdemo · 1 year

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tomorrow - trent alexander arnold

massive thanks to @cosmic-parker for coming up with the idea and helping me out! i luv you <333 first fic of 2023? wtf- most likely the only fic with how slow i am- hope you enjoy, lots of love, demoooo 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Where are you, baby? Trent types as he soundlessly, but with a slight scamper, strides down the corridor.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing it. And if his best man-the title which caused an abundance of disagreements amidst Andy Robertson, Tyler and Marcel Alexander-Arnold found out he was doing this- it would conclude with an mixture of profanity words. But he’s decided to listen to his heart this time, rather than his head. Taught by his mother- whom was the significant woman in his life, other than you, who is the one tightening his tie tomorrow, fixing his collars as he cries his nervousness for the special day.

Tomorrow was the wedding day of you both. The day you finally would express your love towards each other, not that you don’t every day, though this time in the form of a selection of Vows, drafted by you both. Tomorrow isn’t a day like any other. It’s the moment where your world stops, and for a second, you don’t forget how lucky you are. Trent’s mind had been like a rollercoaster, his emotions mixed all over the place. Even months before the wedding, the boy had been pacing around your house, making sure everything was organised. The final weeks before the day, he’d find himself making silly mistakes during training, or questioning his teammates about how their day to remember proceeded. The man was so in love with you, and that’s why he wants to make sure you know- for the last time as his fiancé.

Your phone buzzes on top of the bathroom counter next to the sink. Just as you’d finished brushing your teeth and wiping your mouth clean with a towel, the screen brightens and a notification pops up.

A giggle leaves your lips as you read the message, heart pounding at the words displayed. A text from Trent voicing ‘where are you?’ makes you shake your head. A deep breath leaving exhaling your nose.

‘In my room, just finished cleaning my teeth. You, okay?’ You type, before placing your phone into your hoodie pocket- selected from a certain scouser’s wardrobe. Claiming if you wasn’t going to be in each other’s presence for at least 24 hours- you’d need something of each other’s.

Not a minute later, your phone is vibrating, causing you to hastily have the gadget back in your hand, eyes glazing over the text.

‘I’m good- just couldn’t sleep. What are you doing now?’

You skim over the dialogue, eyes fixated onto the screen as your hand reaches to turn of the bathroom light. Stepping out of the room, you head towards your bed for the night, placing yourself on top of the sheets to type your response.

‘About to sleep T. My eyes are half dozing as I send this message.’ You note, before switching of your device and placing it aloft the bedside table, slipping into the warmth of the bed sheet. In the twinkling of an eye, the screen pops back on with a flash- lighting up the room. Beside you, laid Rachel Robertson, scrolling through her social media or likely questioning her parents how her children had been. Undoubtedly, herself and Andy were delighted to both be such meaningful positions on yours and Trent’s special day. The four of you spending many days off, switching between either houses, though they were down the road, catching up. The females chuckling at their foolish partners mannerisms. Partly, they were both ecstatic about the idea of having a small break from their children, the young Robertson’s could be a handful at times.

‘Come meet me? In the lobby?’ The message Trent sends presents, inducing a sigh to pass your lips. You tilt your head in the direction of Rachel, weighing up your options. Your head is demanding you to acquiesce with the wedding tradition of not seeing your partner 24 hours before the momentous day. However, something inside you is tempting you to see him.

Eyes peering back to the beaming screen, your fingers type, ‘Trent.’ Lip gnawing in anticipation.

Three dots appear within a flash, replying back to your response.

‘Please baby, I need my goodnight kiss.’ Trent declares, coaxing a smile to form upon your face, cheeks rising with heat.

And this is what persuades you to slide out the bed and slip your trainers on, briskly texting the scouser you’d meet him in 5 minutes. Tying your laces, Rachel grabs your attention-

“Where are you going?” She questions, pupils scanning over yourself- fitted with a pair of joggers, a hoodie of Trent and some trainers.

Beckoning your head within her direction- a puzzled emotion displayed from the Scot. Clearing your throat, you respond. “Just going to head down to the lobby for a minute, grab some water- my head wont shut off.”

She doesn’t interrogate your choices, though you grasped that she knew your response was untruthful, due to your fast pace tone of voice and an even more perplexed expression. She wasn’t going to argue with you over your special day, so attempting to modify your decision was out of her books.

“Okay, don’t be too late.” She smiles, before looking back at phone. That’s your signal to vacate the bedroom and find the scouser waltzing the corridors for you so desperately. “I wont be,” you shake your head, heading towards the door of your hotel room.

Fixed in the hallway of the residence for the night, your eyes scan the walls for a sign leading towards the lobby. To your right, you see an arrow facing the stairs leading to the ground floor, where you supposed your lover would be waiting for you.

Trudging down as you follow the commands stated in front of you, taking a left around the corner where the stairs were located, your body collides with another- a bulked, muscular physique as your head thuds into their chest, a groan leaving your side from the impact.

Your vision leaves the individuals warmth and your eyes glisten up to face the other in front of you.

“Sorry- Oh, T, Hi.” You smile, a slight shock to of seen him so soon.

Trent chuckles at your wonder and bewilderment, bringing his hand up to tickle the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Hi sweet.”

Sight observing a state of anxiousness, you bring your hand to stroke the apple of his cheek, the soft skin warming to your touch. “You alright?” You nod.

Trent sighs, eyes fixating towards the ground. “I’m nervous,” puckering his lips.

Your eyes scrunch in confusion, a tinge of sadness for the scouser makes you want to cuddle him until he cannot breathe. “For what? Talk to me?” you guide.

His eyes still beckon over the sight of your shoes, glued to surface of the carpet. A deep inhale is followed by an breathily exhale. “Everything. Tomorrow, becoming your husband- what if I'm not good enough, the-“ He notes as you cut him off.

“Trent,” You take his larger hand in yours, thumb fondling over the palm. “Come on, what’s making you think like this?” you question.

“I don’t know really. You are so special, and the only girl that’s made me the happiest man ever, I just don’t want to mess things up.” He replies softly. Making your heart thud immensely.

You lean in to peck his lips, a slight tinge of alcohol still present that you knew would be encouraged by his teammates, much to Hendo’s disagreement. As you pull away, your eyes meet his, “Let’s go for a walk outside hm, a bit of fresh air is probably needed.”

The pair of you make it outside, the cold temperature demanding you to snuggle close to each other, the attraction of warmth too pleasurable. You notice a bench in the distance, dragging the 5ft 9 male in the direction of the seating. You both take seat, the view presenting a small lake, lighten by a street lamp.

Your hands never lost contact, the touch becoming comforting to you both. Something one may have required more than the other.

“Talk to me.” You start, your body turning to face the man next to you, in less than 24 hours, you could finally call him your husband, something you had always dreamt of as a little girl.

Trent shrugs, “Just nervous, yknow? Like I don’t want to mess tomorrow up. Its our day, and I know you have been waiting for something so magical since forever.”

Your eyes widen at his words, lip jittering out in despair, “Hey, you aren’t going to ruin tomorrow okay. Its going to be the best day of our lives. Well, I hope it will live up to the champions league final. But I do know that it is going to be immense. You have nothing to worry about.” You nod.

This time Trent’s bringing your face as approach to his, lips meeting yours with an instance. “I love you.” To which you reply back, “I love you too.”

“If anything, I should be the one stressing. What if I fall over in my dress? My shoes, no idea how I'm going to walk in those?” You both share a laugh, Trent hand clutching yours tighter.

“Remember when you had too much to drink at Ox’s birthday party?” you shake your head at his words, eyes closing in embarrassment at your actions. “I even had to hold your shoes when we were leaving cause’ your feet were so sore.”

“That’s going to be me tomorrow.” Tucking your head into Trent’s lap, raising it after his next response.

Trent smiles, “We’ve had some eventful times together.”

Your eyes light up at his words, floods of memories coming back to you. “Remember our first date?”

Now it’s Trent’s turn to shake his head, “When we got mobbed by fans? Can’t say that’s what I had in mind.” He tucks you closer into his chest.

“Still ended the night well though, first kiss in Maccies carpark is unforgettable.” You chuckle.

“The boys still take the piss out of me every time I walk into the changing rooms, should’ve lied and said the night went so smooth- rather than letting them know we ended up stuffing our faces with burgers and fries.”

You gasp, “Can’t believe you went against your dietary requirements. Shocking that!”

Trent chuckles under his breath, “Listen!” His voice raises with the intention of proving his point. “It was me day off, give it a rest babe.”

You giggle at his words, hand leaving his to cover your mouth. “Alright, alright.”

“Now its me turn to tell one of my favourite memories about us.” Trent starts, “Remember when I took ya to see me mural? And ya said you preferred Hendo’s more?”

Covering your eyes in mock shame, “I cant lie, Hendo’s looking pretty good in that painting.”

Trent gasps at the verbalisation he’s heard, “You being serious? He’s a dad!”

The trees in the setting swayed in line with the wind. The breeziness making goose bumps raise upon your skin attributable to the sharp, nail biting cold. Both were snuggled against one another, Trent’s arm perched upon the lower part of your back.

You pull your phone out of your pocket, the pair of you scanning through your camera roll, snickering and yapping about old pictures.

“Aww, you recall this?” Nudging the phone into his hands, the bottom of your back adjusting to the loss of tepidity from the man beside you.

“Of course, I do. One of me favourite moments in my career.” He smirks. “I remember twitter went mad after it. Wanted to show me love and appreciation towards ya in the form of my cherished platform.” Trent responds.

One of the first games you made an appearance to support your partner in, ended with a mass of messages and a collection of butterflies whooshing within your stomach. Trent had decided his next goal occurred would see him performing with a love heart into the crowd. The direction was to yourself and ended with a smile never parting from your features.

“On another note. You are wearing a tie which matches the flowers tomorrow right? No red for Liverpool-“

Trent shakes his head at your mannerisms, rolling his eyes. “Robbo suggested it. Hendo’s sorted it out though. They are both buzzing for me to get married. Jordan keeps saying his son’s growing up.”

A blush creeps over your cheeks, and you couldn’t help the small laugh that followed. When it came to Hendo and Trent. Their friendship was inseparable, similar to him and Andy, though, The age on Henderson made himself perform a father-like figure towards Trent throughout his career. It settled your nerves knowing he had someone to offer love and ease when you weren’t around. Especially times when he was outside of Liverpool, away from you for handful of days, he could struggle. It calmed your nerves knowing he had that someone, and Jordan was more than happy to play that role.

You take a deep breath, “I can’t believe tomorrow is actually the day, finally calling myself an Alexander-Arnold.” A soft grin arising. “Wonder what your vows are going to be like..” You question, lips puckering in the sense of curiosity.

“Me vows? Going to be absolutely breath taking. Worked me arse off writing this essay.” He teases, pressing a peck to your lips.

Shoulders shaking at his response, nodding intensively. Sometimes he did come out with some berserk statements. But it made you love him more and more each day.

Trent grabs your hands into his own, shuffling so you are facing each other, now separated from your snuggled position. He stands up from the bench, fleetly rubbing his hands on his jeans to remove any creases, before placing them back into yours. He nods, “Listen, let me act out how tomorrow is going to go.” He starts, as you giggle. “So, we say our vows- blah blah blah, mine will be the most emotional, heartfelt-“

“Woah.” You stop him, disagreeing with his opinion of his own. “What?” you exclaim.

“Shh, baby. You are interrupting my performance.” Trent snarls, raising a finger to his lips as a visual instruction for you to listen. He starts again, “So we do the vows, astounding the crowd as I do.” You roll your eyes, as he contuines. “I’ll grab the ring, then place it on your finger like this-“ He takes your hand, holding your ring finger in his own, and pretends to slip a ring on. Your heart flutters at his gestures, hand raising to your heart in a state of awe.

“Then once you have done the same for me, and its time to kiss.” He pulls you up from the bench, a thrilling rush flowing through your system, heart pulsating out your chest. “I’ll lean in like this, hopefully me mum’s crying so much she doesn’t see much or ya dad isn't watching for my sake.” He guides your head to face his own, a finger tickling your lower chin. A smirk emerges, as you snake your arms round his neck. He reaches to move the unwanted baby hairs, flourished around your face, tucking them behind your ears.

Trent leans into your features, lips softly attaching your own, moving at a sweet pace, nothing too heavy. He pulled away gently, catching his breath, “Need too,” a second kiss, “Get in,” lips hoover over yours, “as many kisses as possible,” allowing a small amount of tongue to slide in, skimming the tip. “As after tonight,” He presses a kiss to your cheek, “The next will be as husband and wife.” Planting a final smooch to your forehead.

“Trent?” You breathe.

“Mhm.”

“Lets get married baby.”

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