Where the football came from exactly, Davin wasn’t entirely sure at the slightest. Amongst the other various memories and objects in his closet, it was stored on a shelf in the back. The ball was brought out more often than Davin ever thought he would use it. Despite his lack of ability to be good at any sport, he was always proud of the fact that he was good at juggling the ball with his feet. Or so he thought he was good. His confidence often grew when he had a few drinks in system, which were currently settling in, and that was typically when Davin brought out the football. Juggling the ball was a good distraction all while being an activity that helped him concentrate. He managed to multitask with the ball on his foot while he putzed around his apartment.
“I would happily pass the ball over to you, but I don’t know if I can trust that you would be able to catch it and then pass it right on back.” He said as the ball went over his head, only to be caught instantly by his foot. “Plus, I’ve been goin’ at this for almost ten minutes and I have yet to spill this drink.”