For THEO: Marcos Rojo

Last year, you had witnessed your boyfriend and his countrymen fight their way to the World Cup final. Unfortunately, they hadn't returned champions. You remember hugging Marcos as he silently let tears glide down his cheeks. You hadn't said a word, only hugging him and rubbing his back as he entered the tunnel. The Germans shook hands with him and he received his second place medal for his and his teammates' efforts. He moped around for a bit before focusing on the upcoming season with Manchester United. They had an okay season that left Marcos craving more.

The Copa de America would be a sort of redemption and confidence boost to the Argentines after their defeat in Rio de Janeiro nearly a year ago. The Argentina side was the strongest team in Group B. They were the highest FIFA ranked team in the tournament and you hoped and prayed that Marcos would return as a champion.

Their match against Paraguay had ended in a bitter draw but they had to focus on their next match against Uruguay. You silently sighed in relief when Luis Suarez wasn't playing. He had a tendency to go after defenders and you preferred your boyfriend to not be bitten during a game. You pulled on your Argentina jersey and arrived at the stadium. You pulled your hair into a ponytail, displaying the "Rojo" and number sixteen on your back.

You found your seat and sat down, sending Marcos a quick good luck text. He usually didn't respond because he would be out on the field warming up or in the locker room listening to essential instructions. You chatted quietly with the other WAGs that had shown up for the game, waiting anxiously for the game to start.

Music started to play and the crowd started to cheer. You turned your attention to the tunnel where the Argentina and Uruguay flags came out, followed by the officials and then the players. You cheered as the Argentines took their place, quieting down for the Uruguay anthem to play. You didn't know the words and stayed silent, waiting for the Argentine anthem to start playing.

The familiar tune started to play through the speakers as a cameraman videotaped the Argentina players singing to their national anthem. You sung along as well, Marcos having taught you the lyrics to it when the two of you had just started dating. The song faded away as the crowd once again erupted in cheers. You sat down and watched Marcos shake hands with his opponents and the officials.

He jogged over to his position, stretching one last time before the whistle blew, starting the game. Marcos had a determined look on his face, as if to dare on the Uruguayan offense to try and run at him. You cheered as he slide tackled and stole the ball from a Uruguay player. He passed the ball up towards the offense who made quick work of it. Sergio had a shot on goal but it was blocked by the Uruguay keeper. You sighed as the ball was kicked back out.

Marcos headed it away from the Uruguay player in front of him. A small break down in the midfield caused the Uruguay side to get the ball and sprint towards the goal. Argentina was fast to counter however. Your boyfriend, his arms swinging with force and his legs pushing off the ground. He caught up to Cavani. He kicked the ball away, sending both his and Cavani to the ground.

It was a clean tackle and he went for the ball so the ref silenced the angry Uruguay supporters who claimed it was a foul. Your boyfriend passed it up the line before helping Cavani back to his feet. There were more shots but Argentina's defense was too fast to let the ball slip past them into the goal. The ref blew the whistle twice, signaling the end of the first half. A bitter draw, you hoped that it wouldn't be another bitter stalemate.

Marcos was obviously frustrated along with everyone else on the pitch. You sent him another text, telling him to take a big breath and continue to stop all shots on goal from occurring. He read it but you knew that he wouldn't have time to respond as people already started to emerge from the tunnel. Both sides stared at each other, the hunger in their eyes to score a goal. You just prayed that it would be Argentina with the win.

Your boyfriend placed both hands on his hips, letting out a deep breath he had held in. Nearly ten minutes had passed when Marcos had stopped a shot. He passed it up where it jumbled around for a while until it found its way on the receiving end of a kick from Sergio Aguero. You jumped up as the ball flew into the net. Cheering loudly, you watched as the Argentina side piled on top of Sergio, your boyfriend one of them.

Sergio stood up and Argentina reset as Uruguay picked their spirits back up, hoping to score a goal themselves. Uruguay retaliated but Marcos and the rest of Argentina's defense was right there to put them in their place. Marcos faced one on one with a Uruguay player. The player ran around him. Marcos put his foot out to try and get the ball, tripping the Uruguayan in the process.

The ref blew the whistle and showed Marcos a yellow card, which he ignored and focused on defending the Argentina goal from the incoming volley from Uruguay. Luckily, the guy missed and a goal kick was awarded to Argentina. Three whistles sealed Argentina's fate as winners. They celebrated as the Uruguayans left the stadium and the pitch, their heads low. You made your way down to the inner stadium where Marcos would be.

He came out of the locker room, his hair still styled just the way you liked it. "Great job, you played so great," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him quickly.

"I think a winner deserves a little more than a quick peck," Marcos winked.

"Whatever you say, Rojo," you rolled your eyes, giving him a longer kiss before he lead you away from the locker room. Your arm wrapped around his waist, he placed his arm around your shoulder, tugging you closer to himself.