moondame

ʚ♡ɞ pedri gonzalez

guilty as sin || multi chapter ✦ finished

♥︎ part 1 - sfw || ♥︎ part 2 - sfw || ♥︎ part 3 - sfw || ♥︎ part 4 - sfw || ♥︎ part 5 - sfw || ♥︎ part 6 - sfw || ♥︎ part 7 - nsfw || ♥︎ part 8 - sfw || ♥︎ part 9 - nsfw || ♥︎ part 10 - nsfw || ♥︎ part 11 - nsfw || ♥︎ part 12 - sfw || ♥︎ part 13 - nsfw || ♥︎ part 14 - sfw || ♥︎ part 15 - nsfw || ♥︎ epilogue - sfw

for the longest time || multi chapter ✦ finished

♥︎ part 1 - sfw || ♥︎ part 2 - sfw || ♥︎ part 3 - nsfw || ♥︎ part 4 - nsfw || ♥︎ epilogue - sfw

play pretend || multi chapter 🎄 finished

♥︎ part 1 - sfw || ♥︎ part 2 - sfw || ♥︎ part 3 ending - sfw

one shots

ㅤ♥︎ secret uncovered - sfw || ㅤ♥︎ two day rule - nsfw || ♥︎ hands off - sfw || ♥︎ too much to drink - sfw || ♥︎ scramble for the blame - sfw || ♥︎ matching by chance - sfw || ♥︎ crashing into you - sfw || ♥︎ crashing into you pt. 2 - sfw || ♥︎ lejos de ti - sfw || ♥︎ kissing my spanish boy all over facetime - sfw || ♥︎ unexpected visit - sfw

ᯓ★ ferrán torres

one shots

Olise’s gaze never leaves the ground. His bearing—usually so elegant and statuesque—now seems robotic and diminished. He walks through the tunnel back to the locker room, weighed down by the defeat—not just the semifinal loss, but now the missed third-place finish—thinking only of how much he wants to disappear.

It doesn’t strike you as odd that his eyes don’t seek yours out. After all, you understand that his mind is consumed by other worries.

But when the silence persists upon arriving at the hotel, you begin to worry. You take the initiative and go to his room. You knock a couple of times; silence.

“Darling”, you call out at the door again.

Silence.

Disappointed, you return to your room and try calling him again. But the call goes straight to voicemail. You just want to offer your support, to comfort him. Yet, a part of you understands that the defeat is a heavy blow, so you leave him be. When he’s ready, he’ll let you back in.

Dinner time arrives, and you head down to the restaurant. You spot him in the distance; his eyes find yours, too. You raise your hand to wave, but the gesture dies halfway through as Olise abruptly tears his gaze away from you and fixes it back on the floor.

The gesture leaves you bewildered and rooted to the spot. You blink several times, trying to make sense of what just happened.

You make your way toward him. You find him seated next to Jules and Doué; the other seats are already taken.

He still won't look at you, acting as if you don't exist. As if the last three years were merely a figment of your imagination rather than a real relationship. As if you hadn't uprooted your life in France to follow him to Germany and support his career. As if the nights spent cooking together had simply vanished into thin air. As if the laughter, conversations, promises, and kisses you shared had been erased from his memory.

You don't want to make a scene, and for a moment, you question whether you have the right to be angry at his behavior. But the feeling has already taken root—especially when you look around and see Kylian and Ester snuggled close: she gently massaging the back of his neck to ease the tension, and he holding her waist as if she were a lifeline.

Fighting back tears, you excuse yourself from the dinner and step out of the hotel into the sweltering Miami streets. The moment you step outside, you let them fall.

Olise wasn’t like that. He was gentle and affectionate. He had never built walls to keep you out—quite the opposite; he wore his heart on his sleeve, someone with whom you could express yourself freely. And that was what hurt the most: that he had suddenly withdrawn his trust in you, as if you weren't enough.

You wander aimlessly until you reach a playground and sit on one of the swings. The empty play equipment added a depressing touch to what was already a sad evening.

“Mind if I join you?”

The voice is unmistakable, though the tone is one you’ve never heard before. You nod, your gaze still fixed ahead, and hear him take the seat on the swing next to yours.

For a few minutes, you both sway gently; the only sound is the creaking of the chains from the movement. Your anger gradually recedes, giving way to confusion and a genuine desire to know what is going on with your boyfriend. But you aren't willing to be the first to speak; you already tried that and were met with silence. Now, it’s his turn.

“We lost because of me”. His words were heavy with remorse. “Not just today—the semifinal, too. I couldn’t create any good plays; I missed every shot. We could have tied it up, regrouped for overtime. But I failed. I let everyone down”.

You swallow hard, unable to stop yourself from looking at him. His tear-filled eyes are already fixed on yours, shame dancing within them.

“And on top of that, I hurt you. It…it wasn’t intentional. It’s just that I couldn’t bear to be around you without feeling like a failure; you’ve sacrificed so much for me, and I can’t even give you a third-place finish. I’m pathetic, a coward. I’m so sorry”.

His words make your heart ache. Olise takes your hand and presses it against his lips.

“You aren’t pathetic or a coward. You played a great World Cup—an excellent one, considering it was your first time”. you murmur, feeling yourself melting with every passing second. “Thank you for being honest with me about your feelings. I just want to be there for you, through the good times and the bad. Just like you’ve been there for me”.

Olise nods several times, stands up, and pulls you to your feet, enveloping you in a warm embrace—one he clearly needed, given how long it takes for him to finally let go.

“I love you, and I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt how important you are to me. Because when you walked out of that hotel, it felt like my whole reason for being was leaving with you. I saw my future slipping away because of my own shame, and I realized my pride wasn't worth it. There will be other matches, but there will never be another you”.

The conviction in his words made you feel secure again, as each one seemed to mend the cracks that had formed in your heart.

“I love you, too. You don’t need to prove anything to me; to me, you’ll always be the best”.

Olise gently caressed your cheek before kissing your lips with sweetness and relief.

“Do you want to go to dinner? Just the two of us”, he suggested as he pulled away from the kiss. “We could go to that restaurant you mentioned that caught your eye”.

“I’d love to”, you smiled affectionately, touched that he remembered a detail you had mentioned in passing.

Interlacing his fingers with yours, Olise guided you through the streets of Miami until you found the cozy spot. There, with his hand resting on your thigh as you looked over the menu, you knew you had made the right choice—and that you would keep making it, as long as it involved him.

Even though this was by no means the first stadium you’d entered, nor the first time you’d gone to support your boyfriend after a rough patch, your legs wouldn't stop trembling.

You take your seat next to Arantxa. This is the day—the day every player dreams of from childhood.

It wasn't going to be easy, especially since they were facing the reigning champions. But something inside you just knew that Ferrán’s patience would be rewarded.

The first half ended scoreless, yet there was comfort in knowing Argentina hadn't even come close to the goal. Your knee bounces with anticipation; you’re eager to see your boyfriend in action.

Finally, he steps onto the pitch for the second half. You stand up and cheer for him proudly; you want the whole world to know you believe in him. Ferrán locks eyes with you, and you nod with a smile, conveying the confidence you feel.

““This is your moment; go and claim it.”. 

With every ball Ferrán touches and plays, you feel he’s getting closer and closer to making it happen. It doesn’t matter if he misses, loses possession, or is a split-second late; you trust that it will happen.

Then, it does. The world stands still for a moment, and you even forget to breathe. A shout escapes you before your brain can even process that you’re already standing there with your arms raised high.

You snap back to reality just in time to see your boyfriend running toward the corner to celebrate the goal—his goal—with his teammates.

"Euphoria" doesn't even begin to describe the feeling electrifying your entire body. You excitedly embrace Arantxa and the rest of Ferrán’s family. Happy tears well up in your eyes and spill over, unstoppable.

You hear the excited shouts of the crowd; many are chanting your boyfriend's name. That name—once insulted and underestimated by so many—now carried the pride of an entire nation.

Ferrán points at you from the pitch and then taps his chest over his heart. Your head is still spinning, and your heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst right out of your chest.

You can’t bring yourself to sit back down, and hardly anyone around you does, either. Adrenaline takes over your body for the rest of the match, and you can’t tear your eyes away from Ferrán as he fights to defend the lead—and the victory—his goal has secured for the team.

At the final whistle, you feel your soul fully return to your body. Ferrán collapses onto the field in sheer joy, and several of his teammates rush over to embrace him.

You’re itching to run over and hug him. They’re world champions. For him—for Ferran. You join the crowd chanting his name throughout the stadium. You hope this finally proves to the whole world that your boyfriend’s place on the national team is more than justified—that everyone, including him, can finally see what you knew was there all along.

You watch him receive his medal, and your heart swells with pride. He lifts the trophy with the rest of the team, and you know no one deserves it more than he does.

When you’re finally allowed onto the field, you follow his family. But the moment he spots you, he cuts through the crowd to get to you first.

He wraps his arms around your waist, lifts you off the ground, and spins you around a few times. When he finally sets you down, he kisses your face enthusiastically before finding your lips.

“You did it—I knew you would. I always believed in you”, you said, looking him in the eye. A few tears escaped again; it was impossible to hold back the overwhelming emotion you felt.

“Even when I didn’t believe it myself. That’s why this victory is for you”, Ferrán said, wiping them away with his trembling thumbs.

“I love you so much. Don’t ever doubt yourself again”.

“With you by my side, the thought wouldn’t even cross my mind”.

You hold each other for a few moments, as if you were the only two people in the stadium. Ferrán’s breathing slows, matching your own; and even though you don’t want to let go, you know he has to go share his triumph with others.

You watch him embrace his mother and sister, and you can’t help but think of the little boy you’ve seen in photographs.

Your heart aches as you recall the hard years Ferrán has endured—from his time at Barcelona, ​​which often drew waves of unjustified hatred and overly harsh criticism that—even if he didn't show it—pierced his mind and heart with pain.

And then came this World Cup, where he had begged for a goal that was ultimately disallowed, leaving him still without a score. Until, finally, he scored the most important goal—not just for himself, but for an entire country.

Ferrán brings the trophy toward you and hands it over. You swallow nervously, dazzled by the massive symbol now in your hands. You look up to find your boyfriend gazing at you with a brilliant smile and eyes full of adoration.

Ferrán places one hand on your waist and uses the other to help you hold the trophy. You pose together for photos, feeling his hand holding you firmly at your waist.

As the man of the moment, Ferrán is approached by players and their loved ones, the media, and the team's coaching staff. You accompany him to an interview inside the stadium while his family stays out on the field.

You stand behind the cameras, smiling as you watch him looking so confident and self-assured.

“How are you going to celebrate the victory tonight?” the interviewer asks.

Ferrán lets out a mischievous laugh and locks eyes with you.

“I’d better not say, since the cameras are rolling”, he answers boldly, giving you a wink.

A blush rushes up your cheeks, and your eyes go wide at his answer. The interview continues with a couple more questions, and when it’s over, Ferrán takes your hand to find a private spot for the two of you.

He leans you against a wall, hidden from the rest of the world behind a column, and kisses you passionately.

“Don’t you think we should go back? They’re probably looking for you since you’re the MVP”, you suggest as you pull apart, even though, in truth, you want to keep him all to yourself.

“They can wait a bit; right now, you’re my priority”, he beams as he strokes your hair.

“I’m not the only person who’s supported you”.

“But you’re the only one who’s done it unconditionally. My family... well, they’re my family; we’re bound by blood. But you... you’ve stayed through it all. You’ve believed in me more than anyone. I don’t even know how to begin repaying you for everything”.

“Ferrán!” you hear his agent’s shout break the moment.

You chuckle softly at the look of annoyance on Ferrán’s face.

“It’s your moment superstar, go. We can have our celebration later”, you gush, winking at him and planting a quick peck on the corner of his mouth.

Ferrán takes your hand, and you step out of your makeshift hiding spot to be met with the look of relief on his agent’s face.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩

Air drifts in through the open hotel room window, yet the warmth comes from your boyfriend’s arms wrapping around you and pressing you against his bare chest.

“How did it feel to lift the trophy?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the room.

Ferrán fixes his gaze on you, his fingers continuing to caress your waist. He thinks for a moment.

“Like the time I kissed you for the first time”.

His answer leaves you speechless, a look of surprise on your face. Ferrán chuckles tenderly and shifts to get a better look at you.

“It’s the truth. It was just as unreal, just as magical. Something I’d dreamed of doing for so long, and when it finally happened… it was even more magnificent than I’d imagined”.

The match is over, and even though Spain has qualified for the final, you can’t shake a lingering sense of heaviness. You had watched him run, attack, and take on defenders, yet the goal he wanted had eluded him again.

Ferrán celebrates with the rest of the team, but you notice his happiness isn't absolute; disappointment with himself lurks like a shadow, threatening to cast a gloom over the moment at any time.

“Congratulations, handsome!” you celebrate, hugging him tightly when he joins you and his family in the stands.

Your boyfriend’s arms wrap around your waist, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck as if seeking refuge from the world. He inhales deeply, immersing himself in the scent of your hair—something he always does when he is deeply troubled.

His fingers drum against your lower back as you walk toward the bus that will take everyone to the restaurant to celebrate the qualification. Despite the singing, dancing, and joking, you notice Ferrán’s distant gaze.

After three years together, you recognize that look all too well: he was replaying every mistake he’d made over and over in his mind. You squeeze his hand, hoping to bring him back to reality—to pull him out of his own head and show him that, despite everything, you are there and always will be.

In the privacy of the hotel room, you hope he will finally drop the mask he wore all afternoon and open up about what is tormenting him.

“Everything okay, love? You seemed a bit distracted during dinner”, you ask as you close the door behind you.

“Huh? Yeah, of course. How could I not be, seeing as we made the final?” he replied with a half-smile.

You step closer and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his breathing quicken until his arms are pulling you tight against his chest.

“You know you can tell me anything”, you murmur, running your hands through his hair.

Seconds tick by in silence; a warm breeze gently stirs the window curtains and cools the air.

“I feel like I’m not performing the way I should. My performance has been mediocre at best”, he admits in a breathy rush, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

Lifting your face from his chest, you look up at him; his eyes are filled with doubt and fear.

“I want… I want to give my best for my team, for my country, my family, for you. And it’s frustrating—it feels like I have nothing to contribute”, he continues, his voice trembling as he gazes up at the ceiling. “I’m useless. I’m a fucking striker who can’t score a damn goal”.

His final words break your heart; you hate seeing him like this, knowing he is usually such a cheerful person who is always ready to support others.

“Sweetheart…” you coo gently.

You tenderly cup his cheek to guide his gaze toward yours, slowly stroking it with your thumb in an attempt to soothe his pain. Ferrán tries to turn his head away again, but you hold it firmly in place.

“You bring so much to the team. I understand you’re frustrated about not doing things exactly the way you want, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t doing a good job”, you reassure him.

Ferrán tightens his grip on your back even more, as if afraid you might vanish at any moment. Yet, you notice his eyes have stopped wandering the room and are now focused on you.

“The ones playing the match are the eleven out there on the field, and those eleven win thanks to everyone’s hard work. Yes, there are individual performances that are crucial, but it’s the collective effort that defines the game. And you’re part of that team”.

Your words begin to sink in. His breathing gradually steadies, his grip becomes less frantic, and his eyes take on a more contemplative look.

“A team that made it to the final”, you hum. The words seem to bring him fully back to you, as a small but sincere smile crosses his face.

“I love you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you; thank you for always being here for me”, he murmurs affectionately, taking your hand to his cheek and kissing it fervently.

“Through sunshine and rain”, you smile, feeling more at ease. “Otherwise, it would be boring”.

Ferrán lets out a hearty laugh before pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss that conveys all his gratitude for your standing by him through the hard times.

“Can we watch a movie?” he asked as you pulled apart.

“I’d love to! Do you want a face mask, too? I bought some recently that are supposed to be really good for hydrating and relaxing the skin”.

“I can’t think of a better plan”.

After putting on pajamas, Ferrán flops onto the bed to look for a movie while you get the face mask ready.

“Put this on”, you say, sitting down next to him and handing him a headband.

“I’m sad—you put it on me”, he asks, giving you a pout you can’t say no to.

As you push his hair back, Ferrán takes advantage of the angle and steals a quick kiss on the lips.

“I thought you were too sad to move”, you tease with a laugh.

“But not too sad to kiss my beautiful girlfriend”, he replies before planting another peck on your lips.

You take the sheet mask out of the package and gently place it on his face. You knew Ferrán liked being pampered when he was feeling down, and who were you to refuse when he did the same for you?

“Photo!” Ferrán announced, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you close as he took out his phone.

You posed beside him, wearing your mask, to capture the memory. You felt more at ease now, knowing that whenever Ferrán took photos, it meant he was finally back to his old self.

You spend the rest of the night watching the movie, taking off the face mask, and applying various creams at the appropriate times.

The movie ends, and you get distracted for a moment by your phone to answer a few messages. Ferrán snuggles up next to you—the way he does when he wants your attention—so you set your phone aside and turn to look at him.

“I really want you to know how grateful I am for your support. You’re my rock, my whole world. I want to make you proud of me because you’re the most important person in the world to me”, he says, stroking your hair.

“I’m already proud of you. And I always will be, no matter what,” you assure him, sealing the promise with a kiss.

“Models of the pitch: 10 most handsome faces in the 2026 World Cup.” A playful smile spreads across your face as you read the Instagram post. This is the… fifth or sixth one to appear in your feed in just the few minutes you’ve spent scrolling on your phone to distract yourself.

Your finger involuntarily swipes through the carousel; you aren't the least bit surprised when a photo of Ferrán appears—this time, in the third spot. Ever since World Cup fever took hold, it’s been impossible to escape those posts—a constant reminder of just how sought-after he had become.

“This one or this one?” Ferrán’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You look up to see Ferrán holding two shirts out in front of you.

“The white one”, you say, before turning your attention back to your phone.

“You’re supposed to be helping me pack”, Ferrán points out as he puts the shirt into his suitcase.

“And I am. My opinion on your fashion sense counts as help. Besides, I deserve a little break after helping you with your pants”.

Ferrán’s laughter draws your attention back to him. He moves aside the stacks of athletic shorts neatly piled at the edge of the bed to join you. His arms wrap around your waist as his nose tickles your neck.

“You’re right, we should rest for a while”, he exhales, settling back against the pillow while keeping his grip firm.

With him close by, you notice his expression is easier to read: the tension in his jaw, his lips slightly pursed, and a look where worry spills from the corners of his eyes.

“You’re going to be fine, I’m sure of it”.

Ferrán gave a half-smile. “Although, come to think of it, I think the break should be for lunch. Pizza?” he asked, sitting down and reaching for his phone.

“Yes, thanks”, you replied, masking the disappointment of having been pushed away by him —yet again.

You watch him order the food, following him with your gaze as he leaves the room, excusing himself by saying he needs to enter his new card details into the app.

In the solitude of his room, a sense of frustration washes over you once again. You tried to connect with him on a deeper level, only to run up against an emotional wall.

You had met Ferrán four months earlier when you modeled with him in an Under Armour shoot. After texting casually for a few days, he had asked you out.

That’s how the weeks went by—moving from casual dates to spending the night at his apartment, meeting his friends and family, and eventually watching him play in the final matches of Barcelona’s season.

Yet, just when you thought Ferrán was finally going to let you into his life in a more serious way, he would pull back. Just when you thought he was finally going to let his guard down with you, he would put his walls back up to keep his distance.

And yet, there were those little gestures: a surprise visit to your apartment with your favorite dessert, his hand holding yours while you were out with friends, the way his eyes followed you whenever you stepped away until you returned to his side.

Burying your face in the pillow, you try to make sense of it all. Especially since your feelings for him are clear—you cared for him, and deeply. Yet you don't know how much longer you could put up with this nameless dynamic. Especially when he is about to leave for the World Cup, with an ocean between you and thousands of girls ready to try their luck.

The bed dips beside you; you lift your head to find Ferrán sitting next to you. You slowly sit up and easily read his expression again: he is nervous.

“There’s… there’s something I want to ask you. Well, I’ve wanted to ask you for a long time, but first I had to check your schedule with your agent so it would be a surprise”, he stammered, under your confused gaze. “I’d like you to come with me; it would mean a lot to me”.

Ferrán holds out a plane ticket and a ticket for the match between Spain and Saudi Arabia, which was to be played in Atlanta.

Your eyes widen in surprise. A warm feeling spreads through your entire body as you take them between your fingers. Ferrán wraps his hands around yours, his nervousness giving way to a look of determination.

“What a surprise!” you smiled excitedly, your heart racing.

“I would have liked you to be there from the start, but your agent told me you were working. Still, the important thing is that you’ll be there”.

You throw yourself at him, wrapping him in a hug; his hands quickly catching and pulling your body close. “Of course, I’ll be there. Thank you so much”.

“Your hotel reservation is all set, too, so you don’t have to worry about anything”.

Once again, confusion slowly crept through your system. One moment he was shying away from you, and the next he was asking you to be there for one of the most important moments of his career.

Ferrán kisses you sweetly, momentarily pushing that feeling aside.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 

People could be cruel—you knew that for a fact. That was one of the reasons you had decided to keep your situation with Ferrán 100% private. Not a single photo together, not a mention, not a comment that could link the two of you.

After the draw against Cape Verde, social media had turned its vitriol on the players; while some managed to dodge the criticism, Ferrán hadn't been so lucky. The usual—and, honestly, by now tiresome—jokes about his struggle to score were flooding social media.

You knew it had affected him when he went completely silent for two days after the match, returning to your messages without replying to the earlier ones in which you’d asked how he was doing and encouraged him to keep going.

Now you see him come on in the second half, and you stand up to applaud him. Spain had already won the match, but you wouldn't be fully satisfied until Ferrán scored his goal, he deserved it.

It’s the erratic way he hunts for every pass and chases the ball with the conviction of someone who has something to prove.

The chance comes in stoppage time. You rise to celebrate his long-awaited and well-deserved goal, only to notice a hint of hesitation in the celebration. The referee heads to the VAR monitor to check for a possible offside.

You cross your fingers, wishing with all your might for it to be a goal—for him to have that moment. The decision echoes throughout the stadium, and disappointment tightens your chest as the goal is disallowed.

You kept clapping, though, because that didn't change the fact that Ferrán was giving it his all, just as always.

The final whistle blew a few minutes later, and despite the victory, Ferrán’s shoulders were slumped. He shuffled toward the tunnel and disappeared from sight.

Laura signals for you to follow her to greet the players. Ferrán’s family stays in the stands, chatting among themselves.

Dani walks over to say hello to Laura. You smile as you catch Ferrán’s eye, but he abruptly looks away and walks right past you. Your smile freezes on your face, then slowly fades.

Embarrassed, you take a step back and lower your gaze, trying to regain your composure. Maybe he didn’t see you, or didn’t recognize you.

“He… maybe he was too lost in thought to say hello”, Laura asserted. “Right, babe?” she asked Dani.

“Yeah”, he replied awkwardly. Laura gave him a nudge in the ribs. “So, I’ll talk to him and find out what’s going on, but I’m sure it wasn’t intentional”.

You nod, sensing the awkwardness in the air. Laura puts her arm around your shoulders as Dani runs off toward the locker room.

“Let’s wait for them outside, shall we? Some fresh air would do us good”.

Questions pile up in your mind as the minutes tick by. The players begin to emerge to join their loved ones. You spot Dani heading toward you, wearing a look that spells bad news.

“Ferrán isn’t feeling well and is heading straight to the hotel”, he announces as he catches up to you.

“What—? He’s not—he’s not coming?” you ask, confused.

Your stomach sinks the moment Dani shakes his head apologetically.

“What’s wrong with Ferrán? That’s not like him; there has to be an explanation”, Laura interjects, fixing her boyfriend with a piercing stare to get more information.

Dani shrugs, avoiding her gaze. “Don’t shoot the messenger”.

“It’s okay, Dani. Thanks for letting me know”, you say, offering a small, forced smile.

“I’ll accompany you to the hotel—”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. Enjoy your night”, you say, cutting Laura off.

You say goodbye to the couple, hugging each of them. You run into Ferrán’s family making dinner plans with Pedri’s family, but you decline the invitation, using the excuse of an “unexpected meeting with your agent”.

The trip back to the hotel feels endless; the tears start flowing the moment you step into the room.

With blurred vision, you start looking for the next flight back to Barcelona. Frustrated at not finding an option for the following day, you toss your phone to the other side of the bed.

To others, the situation might seem insignificant—he simply didn't say hello. But the way your blood ran cold at feeling intentionally ignored made you realize you had reached your limit.

You open your suitcase and, without thinking, start packing a few clothes to distract yourself. Yet, your mind refuses to quiet down.

It’s not just ignoring you; it’s having sent Dani to let you know he wasn’t going to speak to you. It’s, once again, building those stupid walls to keep you out. And perhaps it’s your fault for developing feelings for what was likely always meant to be a casual relationship—just a fling.

A knock at the door interrupts the torrent of thoughts in your mind. You wipe away your tears before looking through the peephole. Your blood boils when you see Ferrán standing on the other side. You consider not opening the door—giving him a taste of his own medicine. No, that would be immature and would only put off a conversation that is inevitable.

You slowly open the door, biting your inner cheek, your eyes full of hesitation.

“Hey”, Ferrán murmurs, not meeting your gaze.

You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for something more.

“Can I come in?” He gestures toward your room.

You step aside and let him enter. Whatever was about to happen, you didn’t want to make a scene in the hotel hallway.

You close the door and lean back against it, still waiting for an explanation.

“I think there was a bit of a misunderstanding…” he begins.

He had looked up, though his gaze was fixed just to the side of where you stood. You could sense it—that holding back in his demeanor, as if he didn’t want to open up to you completely.

“I made a mistake by inviting you here”.

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. Of all the things you expected to hear, that was the last one.

You bite down harder on the inside of your cheek, hoping to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

“Is that what you think?” you manage to say. Ferrán nods, lowering his gaze. “Then look at me when you say it”.

A stifled laugh escapes your throat as you see that Ferrán won’t lift his eyes from the floor.

“It would be best if you went back to Spain; I’ve already taken up too much of your time”.

“Bullshit,” you interrupt. “What are you trying to do? Why do you always abruptly pull me away when things get tough?”

“You wouldn’t understand”.

“Right—if you don’t talk to me, I’m not going to understand. I really… I really thought this could turn into something real”, you say, shaking your head. “I’m so stupid”.

“No… God. You’re not stupid, I…” Ferrán hesitated before continuing. “I just don’t want…”

“Don’t want what, Ferrán?”

“I don’t want you to be with a fucking loser like me”.

Ferrán finally looked you in the face; uncertainty and fear danced in his eyes. He had finally let his guard down, and you found yourself looking at a frightened young man.

Everything makes sense in an instant. The distance, his reserved attitude, the way he acted as if he had something to prove.

“You’re not a loser”, you soothe him, approaching cautiously.

“Yes, I am. Everyone always has something to say about my performance at Barcelona—always. In every match, I try to be better. I thought this World Cup would be my chance to prove I’m worth it, that I deserve you. I invited you here to prove that, but what did you see? A damn goal disallowed for offside”, he admitted dejectedly.

Sighing his name, you moved a little closer until you managed to take his hand. This time he didn't pull away. Instead, he intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you into a needy embrace.

"I want you to succeed because that makes you happy, not because it makes you worth it. You're already worth everything," you comforted him, stroking his hair. “I care because you care, not because it makes me want you more or less”. 

“Really?” he murmured. “It’s just that I’ve seen those posts where they call me nothing but a pretty face, rather than a good footballer”.

“I know, but the World Cup is just getting started; you still have plenty of time ahead of you. Besides”, you say, positioning yourself in front of him to see him better, “you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. As long as you know how important and vital you are, no one else’s opinion matters”.

The words seem to sink in for Ferrán; his furrowed brow relaxes, and he slowly exhales.

“It’s hard. You’re incredibly beautiful and talented, and you make it look easy”.

A small smile escapes your lips as you feel your cheeks warm up. “I know it’s hard—that’s why you have us for. The people who care for you for being you, regardless of performance. And for what it's worth, you're a very good player, as well as a quite attractive one”.

Ferrán laughs and lightly caresses your cheek.

“I was a jerk; I’m so sorry. I was really embarrassed about today’s game and… and I acted immaturely. I don’t want you to leave”, he sighes, tightening his grip on your waist. “I want you to be with me for the rest of the way. And not just as a friend, but as my girlfriend”.

Your heart leapt several times in your chest; Ferrán had finally spoken the word you had so longed to hear.

“Really?” you stammer, knees trembling.

“Of course. I wanted to ask you once I’d finally proven I was worthy of you, but I don’t want to risk losing you in the meantime”.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Ferrán—just that you want me the way I do”.

“That’ll be easy”.

Ferrán kisses you, and despite having done so hundreds of times over the past few months, this kiss feels different. More intentional, with the lightness of someone finally freed from the chains that had been holding him back.

The World Cup should be the most exciting time of the year; the possibility of winning it and bringing it back to Spain for the second time should be the only thing on Pedri's mind. It should be.

But while he waits his turn to take shots at the goal, his mind can't stop traveling to the other side of the world, to the apartment you share, and wondering what you're doing right now.

It's 11 a.m. in the United States, so it must be early evening in Barcelona. According to your routine, you must be studying for your final exams with a hydrating face mask on in the living room of the apartment. Nilo is resting his head in your lap, a place he should be occupying.

Pedri didn't think being away from you would be so difficult; how wrong he was. The first week went more or less well; that was the kind of time you were both used to, so calls and messages seemed sufficient.

It was halfway through the second week that Pedri thought he was going to lose his mind. He would enter the hotel room expecting to find you reading, only to be disappointed when he found Ferran playing something on his phone instead.

The same thing happened when he woke up; his hand instinctively reached for the other side of the bed, looking for your waist. Not finding it, he slowly opened his eyes to find the other half of the bed empty of your body, devoid of your warmth.

He even found himself envying Lamine, who had managed to get Inés to accompany him all the time.

But you still had to take the last of your exams; you were joining him until the third date.

“Pedri, you’re going!” shouted one of the technical assistants, pulling him out of his head.

Automatically, Pedri sprinted to kick the ball that was hurtling towards him. He groaned under his breath as he heard it rumble off the post and went to the back of the line to repeat the exercise.

The fear of repeating the same mistakes as in the match against Cape Verde chills his blood.

“You did your best,” your soft voice comforted him through the phone. There wasn't a trace of pity in your eyes.

“And it wasn't enough,” Pedri buried his face in the pillow, overcome with embarrassment. “Everyone's saying I'm overrated and that I don't show up for important matches.”

“Most of the people talking have never even set foot on a football pitch, let alone a World Cup pitch,” you reassured him. Though he couldn't see you, Pedri knew a gentle smile was playing on your lips. “The important thing is to recognize your mistakes so you don't repeat them. And I know you'll do better next time, I'm sure of it.”

Pedri looked up at the phone screen again; your face offered him the encouragement he needed to keep going.

This time the ball slams into the net with a thud. A confident smile spreads across his face, his shoulders higher. Yes, he'd definitely do better next time, he owed you that.

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You rushed out of the apartment when the taxi driver told you it was downstairs. You struggled with your suitcases to get them into the vehicle in record time and head to the airport.

You had finally finished all your exams. Although the original plan was to join Pedri until you had the final results, the distance was like a pebble in your shoe that you had managed to ignore long enough to finish the semester, but not one more day.

So you moved your flight forward, let his family know you'd be arriving a few days early, and that you wanted to surprise him with your arrival. They agreed and promised to keep it a secret.

Out of excitement, you barely manage to sleep on the plane, arriving in Atlanta in the morning with jet lag that you knew would take its toll later, but now the priority was seeing your boyfriend.

His family had told you that the players would have that day off, so you planned to surprise them at the restaurant where they were having breakfast. You quickly arrived at the hotel where they were staying to check in, leave your bags, take a quick shower, and tidy yourself up so you didn't look like you'd just gotten off an eight-hour flight.

The restaurant was a couple of blocks from the hotel; upon arrival, they tell you that the group has breakfast on the terrace.

Pedri's back is the first thing you see, and you feel your heart racing. After so much time apart, you only had to walk a few steps to close that distance, which until a few hours ago was an immense ocean.

Fer's face transforms into a mischievous expression as he discreetly pulls out his phone to record the reunion. Rosy and Fernando settle in, trying to keep their eyes off you so as not to alert Pedri to your presence behind him.

“I’m getting worried because she hasn’t answered me since yesterday. Usually it doesn’t take that long, about two hours if she’s in class. But right now she shouldn’t be in class…” you hear Pedri explain. 

“Who would dare to stop answering you?” you say playfully, hugging him from behind.

At first, you feel him tense up; his shoulders slump, and he pulls away from your embrace before he even sees your face. The second his eyes meet yours, a mixture of astonishment and disbelief dances in them. He scans you completely, as if he still can't quite believe you're actually there, in the flesh, right in front of him.

Perplexity gives way to emotion. Pedri jumps up and wraps his arms around you in an intense hug, as if trying to merge with you.

Pedri's arms tremble slightly, afraid that you might just be an illusion created by his mind because he missed you so much. He pulls away just enough to see your face, where a few tears of emotion are already welling up, gently wiping them away.

“What-? When-? How-?” Pedri stammered, shifting his gaze between you and his family.

“I couldn’t wait and came as soon as I finished my last exam,” you blurt out excitedly.

Pedri wraps you in his arms again, burying his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply the scent he's missed so much. Then he leaves a trail of kisses along your cheeks until he reaches your lips, joining them in a deep kiss.

“Did you know?” he asks his family, turning to face them.

“Yes. So we hope you’re not as moopy and sad as you have been in the last few weeks”, Fer joked, still recording.

At another time, Pedri would have given him a withering look, but right now you were the most important thing.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"A little on the plane".

“That’s not a proper breakfast, come on…” he says, taking your hand and leading you to the chair beside him, handing you one of the menus on the table.

Breakfast passes peacefully. Pedri’s hands never leave your body, resting on your legs, intertwined with yours, around your waist, stroking your hair. He feels his heart race every time he hears you laugh.

“We’ll stay here a little longer”, Rosy indicated when Pedri asked for the check.

“But I thought…”, Fer began before seeing Fernando’s knowing glance. “Oh, yes. This terrace is lovely”, he said, settling back into his chair.

“We’ve been together since we arrived, you deserve your space”, Rosy continued, seeing Pedri and you looking confused.

“Thank you”, you both said at the same time.

After saying goodbye, you got up to go for a walk. Pedri filled you in on what had been happening, while you updated him on the hotel where Nilo was staying.

After a few hours, you felt the fatigue starting to take its toll. Your body felt like it had a huge stone strapped to it, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to move. Pedri noticed and insisted on returning to the hotel so you could rest.

You collapsed onto the bed as soon as you saw it, and you felt Pedri take off your shoes and snuggle up next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I’m glad you’re here”, he murmurs against your hair.

“So you won’t be all moopy and sad anymore?” you tease, pressing yourself closer to his chest.

“I’m going to kill Fer”.

You giggle softly, stroking his cheek. “You’re adorable”.

“You’re more so”.

Pedri continued stroking your hair until he felt your breathing become deeper and more regular. Even though he wasn’t sleepy, your presence had a calming effect, causing him to fall asleep as well.

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“I’m going to help you kill your brother,” you exclaim, looking at your phone.

Fer had uploaded the video of your reunion with Pedri to social media, and within hours it had gone viral.

“they are so cute”

“looooove them, my favorite couple”

“glad she’s finally here!”

“hoping someone misses me the way Pedri clearly missed her”

The comments kept pouring in every second.

“Considering it’s 2 a.m., we might be able to make it work,” Pedri sighed huskily.

You blinked several times to check the time. The jet lag was starting to get to you.

“Sorry,” you whispered, placing your phone on the nightstand. “My brain still hasn’t adjusted to this time zone.”

“We could do something about it,” Pedri suggested mischievously, sliding his hands under your blouse.

“Don’t you have training in a few hours?”

“And this could be the warm-up,” he murmured, sealing his lips with yours.

The media storm was worse than you could have anticipated, and you had anticipated something quite chaotic. Insults, criticisms, theories, and comments were being hurled at you from everyone at all sides.

The first day was a whirlwind. Despite being careful and discreet, just eight months after making the relationship official, someone had caught you with Pedri at a restaurant. The photo immediately went viral.

Real Madrid fans called you a traitor; Barcelona fans called you two-faced.

“Don’t pay them any attention”, Pedri reassured you in the privacy of his apartment, seeing the battlefield the internet had become. Despite trying to hide it, you knew him too well, and his nervousness was creeping into his tone.

“Neither do you”, you replied with a half-smile. Pedri looked at you, surprised. “There’s nothing in this world that could make me regret being with you”, you said, stroking his hair.

The worry melted from his face, giving way to calm. “Same here. You’re stuck with me…” he smiled mischievously, pulling you by the waist to press you closer to him. “Forever”.

Furthermore, those whose opinions mattered to you had already had the opportunity to meet you. The first were Pedri's parents and brother, and although there was some initial distrust, they eventually accepted you after noticing the deep and sincere love that existed between you and Pedri.

With his friends at Barcelona, ​​it was a bit more difficult. Gavi and Casadó flat out refused to acknowledge your existence for a few weeks. They even planned an intervention against Pedri with the aim of "making him see that you were clearly a double agent sent to destroy his career". With a carefree laugh, Pedri calmed their concerns, and in a more threatening tone, he told them not to suggest anything so foolish again. 

They didn't, and the next time they saw you they behaved more cordially under Pedri's inquisitive gaze.

Ferran was a bit more understanding. After a couple of questions to confirm you wouldn't hurt his best friend, he acted pretty much friendly. Although he always had a knowing look, as if he'd connected Pedri's strange behavior from months ago with you, but he never said anything.

However, no one knew about your true origins. You agreed to tell a simplified version of events; you had never noticed each other while you were with Jude, it wasn't until you returned from New York that you started talking because of a "chance encounter in Barcelona" - this version also reached the media at some point.

Jude said nothing. Despite the incessant questions from gossip columnists about the situation, he remained silent. He tried to pass it off as disinterest, but you could tell it was out of humiliation. A detail you found deliciously ironic.

For the first Clásico after the news broke, all eyes were on you. Even so, you stepped onto the Bernabéu pitch again, confident that no one had the power to define you. You knew who you were, you didn't regret any of the decisions that had led you there, and that was enough. Confirming that indeed, and despite everything, Pedri's jersey felt lighter.

On the other hand, you were relieved to know that the power Jude had held over you was gone. Seeing him again in person for the first time in almost a year, the fear, desolation, and love that had once taken root within you were nothing more than distant echoes. Now there was nothing but indifference.

Things calmed down over time. The comments lessened as the seasons passed and Pedri and you remained as solid as two ships anchored at sea.

Without the torment of having to deal with a relationship that was constantly hanging by a thread, you were free to develop your work with great ease. You were able to collaborate in spaces you dreamed of, with people who appreciated your photographs for their merit, and not for who you were connected to.

And throughout the entire process, Pedri was by your side to support you. Whenever doubt arose about whether he was still as willing as you were, he quickly reassured you.

“There’s no one else in this world I’d rather be with, only you”, he murmured, noticing your thoughtful expression. You snuggled closer to his chest as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck.

Peace was no longer the exception, it was the norm.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Should I keep pretending I don’t know where we’re going?” you asked playfully.

“If you believe in romance, then yes, please,” Pedri replied, checking his phone once more.

A chuckle escaped you, though your heart was actually racing as you realized where you were headed.

You suspected it when he invited you on vacation to the Philippines, and you confirmed it when you learned the destination was Oslob. Even so, you found it endearing that Pedri tried to keep it all a surprise.

“We’re here!” he announced as the car dropped you off at the beach. Several boats were stacked along the harbor shore beneath signs advertising whale shark watching tours. “Now you can say I’m the best boyfriend in the world”.

The smile that spread across your face wasn’t fake; it came from a deep feeling of being noticed, remembered.

“You really are the best boyfriend in the world”, you smiled sincerely, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

Pedri celebrated quietly before squeezing your hand and heading towards one of the boats. After agreeing to the price and getting ready with life jackets, you boarded and headed out to sea.

The warm, salty breeze gently caressed your skin with a comforting sensation. You shyly asked if you could dip your toes in the water, and the boatman gave you permission. The water instantly refreshed you, silky smooth to the touch.

“First time?” asked the boatman, Mr. Luna, after a few seconds.

“Yes, but we’ve been thinking about it for a long time”, Pedri replied, giving you a wink.

“It’ll be worth the wait”, Mr. Luna commented, gliding across the water.

“I know it will”, Pedri sighed, his eyes never leaving yours.

Melting at his gaze, you squeezed his clasped hand.

A small bump appeared on the side of the boat, disturbing the smooth surface. You blinked several times, still in disbelief at what you had just seen. Peering over carefully, you could see it clearly: a whale shark was swimming peacefully alongside the boat.

“Look, love!” you squealed excitedly, pointing at the long, spotted animal.

Pedri peeked out from beside you and hugged you close, a tender smile spreading across his face, his eyes wide with wonder.

“Here…” Mr. Luna said, pulling out a bucket of food. “So you can throw them some”.

Pedri and you looked at each other with complicity, knowing that this promise had been recited long ago, a time when fulfilling it seemed impossible. Yet here you were.

Getting your camera ready, you signaled to Pedri to go first. Carefully, he took a handful of small shrimp and scattered them over the side of the boat. A second whale shark joined the first to feed.

Fascinated, you also took some shrimp and scattered them. After a few minutes, several whale sharks surrounded you, creating a harmonious display of mottled backs in the water.

The morning passed with your incessant questions to Mr. Luna about your work, and his long, insightful answers. Pedri chimed in from time to time, contributing a question or comment.

At the end of the tour, you thanked Mr. Luna and headed to Tumalog Falls to spend the rest of the afternoon.

“That was amazing”, you thanked, giving Pedri a big hug, before entering the car. “When did you decide to do this? I didn’t know you were still thinking about it”.

“A few months ago”, Pedri coughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “I wanted to do something special for this vacation”.

“Why?” you asked, curious. Your fourth anniversary was still months away, and your birthday had already passed.

“Do I need a reason to want our vacation to be special?”

“You were the one who said you wanted it to be”, you teased.

“It’s just that you make everything special… Look how fast we got here! Let me help you out”, he said, changing the subject.

Rolling your eyes, you took his hand to get out of the car and head down the path that would lead you to the waterfall. Camera in hand, you stopped every now and then to capture the scenery that caught your eye.

You felt Pedri's attentive gaze on you, along with a hint of something lurking beneath the surface, a restlessness that threatened to erupt, but which Pedri managed to suppress at the last moment.

“They’re… magnificent,” you whispered breathlessly as you reached the falls.

The water gently splashed you, offering a welcome respite from the heat. After setting your things down on the bank, you both plunged into the refreshing water. Pedri’s arms wrapped protectively around your waist as he submerged himself a little further.

“I could stay here forever”, you murmured, snuggling against his chest.

“Really? Because we have a dinner reservation at the restaurant tonight and—”

“Love, I’m just kidding”, you laughed, seeing Pedri start to stumble over his words. “It was just a figure of speech”.

“Oh, yeah”, he breathed, a little calmer. “But would you? The part about staying forever?” he continued, a bit more serious.

Again, you saw that fervent devotion in his eyes, as if he wanted to confirm that you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“With you, yes, forever and ever”, you assured him before melting into a deep kiss.

The words calmed Pedri’s racing heart, giving him the certainty to stick to his plans for the evening. The plan involved the ring he had ordered six months ago, which had finally been delivered to him a week ago, and which he could finally give to you after swallowing the urge to propose to you every day since then, to ask you the most important question of his life.

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You were ready. You were ready because you had practiced with Elena, who surprised you with a pretty accurate imitation of Jude, the countless scenarios that could unfold. Besides, the only thing that could truly surprise you at this point was if he accepted the situation and you ended things peacefully. And that was an idyllic scenario, too good to be true.

A part of you felt you were walking toward your execution. About to end, what you had long believed was the only thing that gave your life meaning. But you knew that wasn't true, that it never had been.

Even so, your heart raced as you stood before Jude's playroom door, stretching out the seconds before unleashing the storm. Your stomach churning, you knocked several times, knowing you wouldn't get an answer, and opened it after a few seconds of waiting.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” he scolded you without taking his eyes off the television.

“We need to talk”, you almost managed to keep your voice steady.

“Later”.

“It’s 10 p.m”.

“Tomorrow then”.

“Tomorrow you’re going to San Sebastián”, your voice had begun to stabilize.

With a loud snort to let you know he was annoyed, he paused the game and looked at you sharply. “So?”

The speech you had been rehearsing turned into a jumble of letters in your head, fuck it, time to improvise then.

“I won a spot in a photography workshop”, you announced. Jude’s face showed disinterest, as if he didn’t know why he should care. “It’s in New York for six months. I’m leaving in two months”.

That last part really set off alarm bells. He let out a sarcastic laugh, the kind he uses when he wants to belittle others.

“You’re not going”, he dismissed. He resumed his game as if you’d told him you were having chicken instead of beef for dinner

Anticipating that reaction, you planted yourself in front of the TV. “I am going”.

Pausing it again, this time with more irritation flashing across his face. “I don’t do that long-distance crap. Besides, why would you want to go? There are more than enough workshops here in Madrid”.

You had to give yourself some credit for predicting Jude's reaction; so far, he'd been following the imaginary script you'd rehearsed.

"Not like this one. My favorite photographer is going to teach it—"

"So you care more about that than being with me?" Jude stood up quickly. "I'm telling you this one last time, I don't do that long-distance crap. So unless you want to break up, you're staying", he sentenced.

Your heart leapt at the mention of the words that had held you hostage for so long, words that now knew held the key to freedom.

“I thought you’d be happy, because this is truly a great opportunity for me. But if that’s your condition, then…” You swallowed hard before continuing. “Then you’re right, we should break up”.

Disbelief flooded Jude's face. For a few seconds, he remained tensely silent, as if waiting for you to change your mind right then and there. Seeing that time was passing, and you remained just as firm, he changed his strategy. His shoulders slumped, and he lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Are you serious? After all this time… you’re going to throw it all away for a mere whim?” he asked, feigning sadness.

Using all your willpower to stop your eyes from rolling at the mention of a ‘mere whim’, you took a deep breath before answering.

“It’s not a whim. It’s my passion, my life, my future—”

“So I’m not part of any of those things?” he snapped, his voice rising. “Because I did consider you part of everything, I…” he hesitated before continuing more calmly. “I was thinking of proposing to you this year”.

If the shock hadn't been so great, you would have laughed at his "declaration". This was definitely a scenario you hadn't anticipated, yet his empty promises no longer had any effect on you. Jude took the silence as an indication to continue.

“I wish it had been different, but yes, this was the year”, he sighed, nodding self-satisfiedly. “And it still can be, you just have to stay”.

Jude came closer and took your hands, intertwining your fingers. Part of you was still in shock that Jude could go to such lengths to keep from losing you, maybe… No! You quickly crushed that usual urge to give in to him.

“I wish things were different too… all of this. But the reality is, they aren’t”, you gently untangled your hands from Jude’s. “You can’t threaten to break up with me and then tell me you were thinking of proposing—”

“I didn’t threaten you! I just showed you the consequences of your decisions”, he interrupted, stepping back again.

“And I’m accepting them, Jude. I’m going to New York whether you like it or not, whether you want me to or not, whether you’re my boyfriend or not”, you finished, and without waiting for another response, you left the room.

With trembling hands, you went to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water. Everything was going more or less… well?

“I can’t believe how selfish you’re being. This… this is going to affect my performance, my career…” he insisted, joining you in the kitchen.

“Oh my God. You’re the one who wants to end the relationship because you don’t want to do long-distance, not me”.

“But you started out wanting to go to the other side of the fucking world for something that isn’t worth it”.

“It is worth it to me!” you retorted, turning to him. “This is important to me—”

“Me, me, me. See, you are being selfish”, he mocked.

“Yes, I’m being selfish for the first time in our relationship. Because that place was reserved only for you”.

Jude recoiled as if you'd punched him in the gut. Despite your attempts to avoid it, this was about to turn into a battle. And from the way Jude was smiling, you knew he was bringing out his best weapons.

"Okay, okay. You've had your moment in the spotlight, congratulations. Now you can stop acting all brave and just tell me directly, what is it you want?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve realized this is all just a desperate attempt to get my attention. So I want to save us from even more trouble and ask you directly what you want. More trips, more gifts, more money for your expenses?” he listed, as if he’d found the answer.

Staring at him, you couldn't help but gasp at his audacity, offended by how little he knew you.

"I would have considered it if you'd actually made an effort to mention things that really need improvement", you revealed, shaking your head. "I always told you I didn't care about your money. I just wanted... Never mind".

"Just wanted what?"

“What do you mean, ‘what,’ Jude?” you finally blurted out, surprised he’d even bothered to ask. “A boyfriend who’d enjoy being with me instead of locking himself in his gameroom all day; or one who wouldn’t belittle my work and would be proud of my accomplishments; who’d actually answer the damn phone when I needed him”.

There were still shards of glass around him, the difference now was that you didn’t care about breaking them.

“Well, sorry for being too busy—focusing on our future—to notice such trivial things!”

“They are not trivial things! God… Jude”, you exhaled, trying not to fall for his provocations. “We’re not getting anywhere; instead, we’re sinking deeper and I’m too tired to keep us afloat any longer. This, us, it’s over”.

Even though ending things with him was for the best, you couldn’t help feeling sadness. For so long, Jude had been the love of your life, the man you’d planned to marry, start a family with, and grow old with. But what kept you together was no longer love. You walked past him toward your room when he took your arm and pulled you closer.

“Who is it?” he asked in a low voice. “Who is he?”

Your blood ran cold for a moment at the fleeting thought that Jude might have discovered your relationship with Pedri. But no, that was impossible; this was just another one of his tactics to manipulate you. Your blood quickly began to flow hot again, recalling all the unanswered questions he had left you with. The box where you kept all of them bursting open.

“You want to talk to me about infidelity? How fucking dare you?” You roughly pulled away from his grip. “You always tell me no one will ever love me like you do, but what about you? Do you think another girl will put up with your constant cheating, scandals, lies, and disrespect?”

“I never—”

“We’re over, Jude! This relationship is over, so stop pretending you never cheated on me. Because I know, I always knew. I always knew, and even though you never apologized once, I forgave you every single time. I thought you’d change eventually, but you didn’t”.

A sudden fear transformed Jude's face, his eyes darting from side to side, searching for some answer.

"But I only love you", he finally replied.

Shaking your head, you rejected his attempt to creep back into your heart. "No, Jude, you don't love me. You don't humiliate the one you love, no... you don't make them suffer so much. You don't make them feel inadequate and that they deserve every betrayal", your voice breaking at the end. A tear managed to escape your eye; you wiped it away aggressively before clearing your throat again. "I really hope you get better, because no one deserves to go through what I went through."

“You deserved it,” he fired back. Even though his power over you had diminished, the words still stung. “You put up with it for a reason, didn’t you? Because you know you weren’t enough for me. You never will be, not for me, not for anyone”.

Disappointed in the person Jude had become, a couple more tears rolled down your cheeks. Now you weren’t blindfolded; you saw the person in front of you clearly. You noticed his insecurity and his constant need for external validation. Pathetic, really.

“Good thing I’m not your problem anymore, then”, you murmured.

“I want you out of my house when I get back from San Sebastián. And if I find out you took anything of mine, you’ll really know what I’m made of”, he threatened harshly.

“It’s only fair”, you agreed. Knowing he was going to kick you out, you’d already rented a small room for the two months you had left in Madrid.

“You’re going to regret this. When you realize you’re worthless, you’ll come crawling back to me”, he spat. With no more will to fight, and with a time limit on what had been your home for two years, you started walking toward your studio. “You were always stiff in bed, that’s why I fucked other women. And they were all so much hotter than you!” Jude began shouting desperately as he watched you walk away. “You’re leaving me everything, okay? The jewelry, the clothes… I have several women who will appreciate it more and who will look better in it”.

You slammed the front door, muffling his screams. Exhausted, as if you'd just run a marathon, you collapsed to the floor. Tears finally overflowed, falling heavily down your face. Drawing your knees to your chest, you let them flow, allowing yourself to feel all the pain you needed to endure, detoxing from the last bit of it so you could start fresh.

After several minutes, you managed to calm down. Having heard the front door slam and the screech of Jude's tires, you were certain you were alone at home. Even so, you still didn't want to leave. If there was one place in the whole house that was 100% yours, it was your studio, so you would start packing there.

«It's over. I have two days to get out of here»

You texted Elena, who was staying at a hotel in Madrid to help you with the inevitable move. Her call came through immediately.

“Are you okay? Well, obviously you’re not okay, but you know…” she stumbled over her words.

“I’m fine,” you breathed dejectedly. “I’m just tired, really.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes, please”.

“I’ll tell you this in person too, but I want you to know that I’m proud of you. I know this wasn’t easy, and knowing Jude, he probably made it harder and crueler than necessary, but it’s over now. You’ll be okay, you’ll be better”, Elena assured you.

“I know, thanks”, you smiled weakly.

Even though you weren't entirely sure, because you were now adrift, the good thing was that you knew how to swim, and you had a couple of people willing to offer you life jackets.

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You thought things would be harder. Yes, there were ephemeral moments when you missed him, but they were just that—ephemeral. After that, the relief of savoring freedom filled you, displacing the nostalgia until it faded away.

Some media outlets had started circulating the news, noticing that you had deleted all the photos you had with him and had even blocked him on social media. Added to that was your sudden disappearance from the games for the last two months. Only Mina had been concerned enough to ask you, and you confirmed it to her, telling her that you were going to New York for a few months and that Jude, in his eagerness to avoid a long-distance relationship, hadn't given you any other option but to end things.

“Jeans fully packed”, Pedri announced, sealing the cardboard box with tape.

After much thought, you allowed yourself to spend those last two months in Madrid with Pedri in your life. Not as boyfriend and girlfriend, just as friends… friends who slept together and kissed occasionally. Although you had taken sex out of the equation, knowing it would make everything too complicated. Nevertheless, this being your last night together, and seeing Pedri working so hard to help you pack the last of your belongings, sweat dripping from his nose, and that light stubble he'd grown in recent weeks…

"... Sounds good?" he asked, carrying the box in front of you.

"What?" you asked, snapping out of your reverie.

Pedri gave you a half-smile, guessing what you were thinking from the way you were looking at him. “All that’s left to pack are your skirts and coats. The baggage service will be here in three hours, so we can take a short break for lunch. Sound good?”

“Sounds good to me”, you agreed, cheeks flushed.

“I’ll put this one with the others. Order whatever you want”, he winked, pointing to his phone with his chin, before leaving your room.

You flopped down on the bed and ordered from your favorite restaurant, another craving you wanted to satisfy before missing it for six months.

«Girl, you have to fuck him tonight»

Elena's message made you bury your head in the pillow.

«Jesus Christ Elena»

«Sorry, sorry. You should make love to him today. Packing is the worst, he deserves it»

«When I helped you pack, you offered me lunch, not your body»

«You're acting like you haven't thought of that already. Do you really think I'll join you at the airport tomorrow because I'm busy with work?»

«Yes, after all you'll take a week to join me in New York»

«If you don't arrive tomorrow with that post-fuck glow, I'll be disappointed.

Sorry, I meant post-made love glow»

Rolling your eyes and letting out a laugh, you said goodbye to your friend. The closet was practically empty, most of your things already packed in boxes waiting to be transported to your new apartment in New York. There weren't many things to move, anyway; beyond obeying Jude's instructions, you didn't want to bring anything of his to your new life.

Reality still felt… unreal. Just hours away from starting a new life, from depending on yourself for everything again, and you were excited. You'd already started looking for temporary work to cover your expenses and not deplete your savings so quickly. Pedri had offered to help, but you politely declined; you had to do this on your own.

“The boxes are already stacked, ready for the last one”, Pedri sighed, collapsing onto the bed beside you.

“I should call the landlord, remind him I’m handing this place over tomorrow”, you said, staring at your phone, trying to distract yourself from his closeness and his intoxicating scent.

“You should…” Pedri murmured, his fingers gently tracing your cheeks.

“But it’s still early”, you reasoned.

“And we’re supposed to be on our break”.

Giving in to the burning desire, you turned around and knew you couldn't deny him anything he asked for. Pedri positioned himself above you, and after a brief nod from you, he kissed you hungrily. His hands quickly slipped under your shirt, sending a tingle of desire through your abdomen; after all, he had helped you so much with the move these past few days…

The doorbell rang, interrupting the moment.

"It must be the food", you exhaled quickly.

"Have them leave it at the door", he grunted between kisses on your neck.

"But it's not paid for", you lamented, regretting your decision.

"Go get it while I find my wallet", Pedri soothed you with a final kiss on your collarbone. "My treat".

Getting up, you tried to quell the heat that had engulfed your entire body. Combing away a few stray hairs, you opened the door and found yourself face to face with the last person you expected. Your soul left your body, leaving you paralyzed with shock.

“Hi… I know you weren’t expecting me, but can we talk?” Jude asked, holding a bouquet of roses, putting on his best apologetic face.

“Wh- What— What are you doing here?” you stammered, still in shock.

“I asked the guys from the moving truck you used to give me your new address. I know you're leaving tomorrow and… what are you wearing?” His eyes slowly scanned your body, his voice growing harsher at the end.

Looking down, your head spun as you remembered you were wearing Pedri's clothes, which he'd brought you under the pretext that it would make packing easier. Shit, Pedri.

Without a word, you tried to close the door. Jude reacted by sticking his foot in, keeping it open.

"The restaurant just called about…" you heard Pedri approaching.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Desperately, you tried to close it even further, still unable to utter a word. Meanwhile, Jude, hearing a man's voice, roughly pushed it open completely as Pedri appeared in the room.

Jude was furious, a kind of fury you'd never seen from him before. His eyes darted rapidly between you and Pedri, trying to make sense of what was happening in front of him.

Pedri, for his part, was also frozen, just like you, feeling that any sudden movement could trigger a reaction.

“What the fuck is this?” he muttered, barely containing his anger.

“Jude, you have no business here—” you pleaded calmly.

“That’s not a fucking answer!” he yelled, throwing the bouquet to the floor.

“Hey! Don’t yell at her”, Pedri intervened, stepping forward to stand in front of him.

“You have absolutely no fucking right to tell me what I can and can’t do to her”, Jude threatened, towering intimidatingly over Pedri.

“Jude, you and I broke up months ago. Leave right now”, you repeated firmly. “And Pedri, please don’t fall for his provocations”.

Pedri stepped back, coming to stand between you and Jude.

“Wow, I… I came to give you a second chance. And this is how you greet me?” Jude complained bitterly.

“I don’t want anything to do with you. Go away”.

“How long has this been going on? And don’t try to tell me it was just in the last couple of months because I wasn’t born yesterday”.

“I don’t owe you any answers, go away”, your eyes were still fixed on him.

“No, that’s true. But I’m asking you from… I don’t know… four months ago? When you were still my girlfriend”.

Sensing that Pedri was about to say something, you took his arm to calm him down. Jude noticed and let out a mocking laugh.

“How long have you been fucking my girlfriend, González? Or rather… how long were you fucking her when she was still my girlfriend?” Jude challenged, looking at him.

“Look who’s talking”, Pedri scoffed.

“So you did”, he exhaled, then turned his gaze to you. “Thinking you were such a goody-two-shoes, and look… sleeping with him while you were with me. So that’s why you were acting so strange the last few months. And was it just with him, or were you being passed around the whole team like the cheap slu—”

The slap was louder than you’d imagined, but your hand had moved faster than your brain. When you looked at your palm, it was red and tingled from the contact with Jude’s cheek.

Jude was in shock. Rage surged through him as he realized he was no longer in control. “I’m leaking this to the media. Everyone’s going to tear you apa—”

“And you?” you interrupted, noticing a crack in his plan. If there was one thing Jude always prioritized above all else, it was himself. “Yes, it’s true that it would be a scandal on our end. But have you thought about yourself? A serial cheater whose girlfriend, after years of putting up with his shit, starts cheating on him with his rival. And at the end of the day, she chooses him over you. Because, in fact, even in that, Pedri is superior”. Jude’s face slowly began to fall. “And with your track record, who could really blame me?”

Jude swallowed hard, his confident expression quickly twisting into one of terror. “You wouldn’t dare”.

“I…” you corrected yourself, feeling Pedri take your hand. “We would. So, and this is the last time I’m going to ask you… leave right now, and never come looking for me again”.

“Do you really think he’ll be any different? You’ve always been the problem here”, Jude sneered, flailing desperately.

“That’s enough, out”, Pedri said, taking a step forward. Seeing that Jude was about to retort again, he moved further ahead, letting go of your hand. “If you tell the press, send us the link so we can read your pathetic sobbing story and have a good laugh”, he joked as he escorted him outside.

With one last look from Jude, you knew he'd never do it, that he just wanted to keep the threat hanging in front of you, luring you into a trap. But his tantrum hadn't worked, and now he was leaving with his head down like a child who hadn't gotten the candy he wanted.

With the click of the door, Pedri and you were alone again in the small apartment. After a few seconds, you heard Jude's frustrated footsteps disappearing down the stairs.

Pedri turned his head toward you, his face showing he still couldn't believe what had happened. "That was insane. How dare that idiot even show his face here?"

“I know, pretty pathetic”, you sighed. Had he always been this annoying? Probably, and you were too blind to see it for what it was. “And he won’t, in case that worries you. He’ll never tell anyone about… about our beginnings”.

Pedri approached you, murmuring your name, and cupped your face. “When I fell in love with you, I also accepted that people would talk, regardless of whether they knew about our beginnings. And that seems like a very small price to pay for the pleasure of being with someone who makes everything feel more colorful, more alive. A girl who is beautiful, funny, intelligent and sweet”.

Smiling and feeling more confident, you leaned in to kiss Pedri. His free hand went to your back to hug you tighter.

A new doorbell rang, interrupting you. Cautiously, in case it was Jude again, Pedri slowly opened the door, his shoulders relaxing as he saw the delivery man on the other side.

Letting out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, you took out the plates to serve and eat more comfortably. Pedri paid and helped you carry the food into the living room.

Pedri told you about his vacation plans, how he would spend part of it with his family in Tenerife and was still considering other destinations for the rest. Meanwhile, you told him about the plans you and Elena had for your first week in New York.

When you finished, you continued packing the last of the things in the closet and bathroom, leaving out only what you'd need in the morning and would take in your carry-on. The luggage company arrived on time and took away your six cardboard boxes and three large suitcases containing all your belongings.

"I think that's it", you exhaled, sinking down onto the couch.

"Yes, everything's ready for tomorrow", Pedri said, settling in next to you.

Playing with your fingers, you tried to ignore the thick tension, the result of the palpable desire between you, which had grown stronger with each passing day. Ah, fuck it. All the lines you had to cross with Pedri had already been crossed far too far. This was your last night, and if he wanted it as much as you did, what was one last rule to break before you left?

“You’ve been a huge help these past few days”, you began, sliding one of your fingers down the couch to his arm, which you stroked. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you”.

Pedri blushed instantly. From his wide eyes and the way his lips parted slightly, you knew you’d caught him off guard.

“Any ideas?” you asked innocently, tilting your head and fluttering your eyelashes.

Coming out of his surprise, his gaze intensified, and he licked his lips. “A few…” he smiled, leaning closer and ghosting his lips over yours.

His hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer. His tongue brushed your lips, parting them slightly, just enough to slide in. You squeezed his strong arms, arousing you with every passing minute, fueling the lust you'd been holding back. One of his hands slowly traveled down your body to your legs, parting them and caressing between them, eliciting a muffled moan from you.

Pedri broke the kiss, and with a hungry look, knelt in front of you. You hadn't even had time to catch your breath when his fingers wound around the waistband of your pants and panties, pulling them down and removing them with a swift motion, along with his shirt.

“You could start by letting me eat you out”, he breathed between kisses on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your entrance, his fingers eagerly pressing against your skin.

“Pedri… please”, you whimpered, feeling your body throb with the sensation of his fine stubble against your sensitive skin.

“God, I love it when you say my name like that”, he purred against your inner thigh, giving it little nibbles.

Pedri traced your thighs with his tongue until he reached your already wet pussy again. He looked up, his pupils dilated, his eyes coating his face. You nodded eagerly, and he dived into you.

"You taste so good, beautiful, just the way I like it," he growled between your legs.

His tongue slowly traced your folds, savoring every inch and marking it as his own. His hands squeezed your thighs, then he threw them over his shoulders, deepening his licks.

You tangled your hands in his hair, squeezing lightly, as his tongue sucked on your clitoris. His eyes rose to feast on your expression of pleasure. Pedri continued devouring you like a madman, his mouth and tongue opening you up.

His hands roamed over your abdomen until they reached your breasts. You quickly removed your shirt and bra so his fingers could massage them freely.

“Good girl”, he praised, twisting a hardened nipple between his fingers.

“Shit—Pedri”, you moaned as he returned to give sloppy kisses to your inner thighs, tickling them lightly with his stubble.

The tingles spread rapidly throughout your body as he slowly inserted a finger, arching your back as his tongue traced your inner thigh again, reaching your clitoris. The raw desire with which he ate you was enough to make moans escape your lips.

Pedri's fingers twisted and turned inside you, hitting all the right places he had memorized, using that knowledge to drive you to the edge. With a kiss on your clit, he sucked lightly, then gently pressed and flicked his tongue, causing your legs to shake intensely.

It wasn't long before his beautiful, inviting mouth, along with his industrious fingers, brought you to your release.

“Give it all to me, baby, I want it all”, he pleaded.

The Earth stopped spinning the moment the orgasm hit you hard and intensely. Trails of electricity that surged from your abdomen spread throughout your body, leaving you a trembling mess.

“Fu—fuck Pedri, yes!” you screamed, squeezing his head between your thighs.

Pedri's tongue and fingers accompanied you as you rode the waves of your orgasm out. He carefully withdrew his fingers before placing one last kiss on your clitoris.

Giving you a few seconds to recover, Pedri stood up, quickly removed his pants, and slid the condom onto his hard cock. The world seemed to stop spinning, and your breathing was less ragged as he pulled you by your legs, laying you down on the seat cushions.

Pedri positioned himself over you, kissing you passionately as he settled between your legs. You threw your head back as you felt him teasing your opening, trembling with anticipation of having him inside you.

“Please…” you begged eagerly.

With a half-smile on his face, Pedri slowly slid inside you.

“Fuck, I missed feeling you like this so much”, he breathed, sinking deeper and deeper.

Determined to make up for lost time and knowing you'd be away, his thrusts were quick but precise. Each one accompanied by a squeeze of your legs, his fingers digging into your skin for stability.

His chest glistened with sweat, the muscles in his arms bulged with exertion, and the expression on his face was pure ecstasy. Bringing your hands to the back of his neck, you pulled him closer to kiss him again. Pedri moved his hands to wrap around your back, deepening the kiss.

When you broke the kiss to catch your breath, you noticed his face soften at the sight of you. His eyes slowly traveled over your body, sending a shiver down your spine, before meeting yours once more.

“I love you”, he blurted, his eyes brimming with adoration.

“I love you too”, you breathed before kissing him again.

Pedri's hips began to roll more frantically, his grip on your back growing more intense until you felt him lose his rhythm as he neared his climax. With your name on his lips, Pedri reached orgasm, burying his nose in the crook of your neck as he finished draining himself inside you.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to finish so quickly. It's just that, well... it's been a while", he apologized shyly, his hot breath brushing against your ear.

"You have nothing to apologize for", you reassured him, stroking his back. "You took great care of me".

After placing a soft kiss on your shoulder, Pedri slowly got off you and then stood up.

"What are you doing?" you asked, laughing, as he picked you up.

"The couch isn't very suitable for cuddling", he replied, carrying you toward the bedroom.

Once there, he gently laid you on the bed, went to the bathroom to throw away the condom, and returned with a shirt for you and a pair of boxers for himself. Already half-dressed, he nestled against your chest, caressing your arms.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked after a short silence, looking up at you.

“I revoked your mind-reading privileges weeks ago”, you reminded him, rolling your eyes in an attempt to avoid answering his question.

“I just want to make sure you don’t leave with any doubts or worries”, he chuckled.

“What if I come back and you don’t like me anymore?”

Pedri smiled gently and softly stroked your cheek.

“That’s impossible”.

“But I’m going to change. I’ll be a new version of myself”.

“And I can’t wait to meet her”.

His reassuring words had an effect on you, and you nodded, convinced by what he said, calming the anxiety that had begun to build. Pedri hugged you tighter, his arms offering the security you needed.

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Elena's eyebrows wiggled as soon as she saw you with Pedri at the airport. "It's so nice to see you both with a glowing look", she said playfully, giving you a knowing look, even under your mortified gaze. "I'll give you some space to say your goodbyes". She then headed towards the boarding gates.

The moment had arrived. Turning to Pedri, you didn't know what else to say; all the fears, hopes, questions, and promises had already been laid bare.

"I'm going to miss you more than you can imagine", you murmured against his chest.

"Actually, I can imagine, because that's how much I'm going to miss you", he replied, taking your chin in his hand and making you look at him. He slowly pulled you closer to kiss you.

"See you in six months", you wept, holding back your tears.

"Can't wait", he smiled, his eyes beginning to well up.

Before the tears could overwhelm your eyes, you turned to head for the doors. With one last glance, you waved goodbye, tears already streaming down both of your cheeks, but with a smile knowing you would see each other again.

It was that knowledge that gave you the drive during those first few weeks, along with Elena's company. New York was truly a different world, so fast-paced, chaotic, and demanding.

You were glad to realize that many people didn't know you because of your past relationship; to them, you were someone new, without a past, without burdens. That's when you were able to find yourself again, not tied to anyone, simply being yourself.

The anxiety about Jude posting something also disappeared. Every now and then, news about a new girl would pop up, and with nothing but disinterest, you'd just scroll past it.

You occasionally contacted Pedri to give him general updates. These were short interactions, which, although initially leaving you wanting more, gradually satisfied you as the months passed, knowing you'd have plenty of time for that in the future.

The workshop was a dream come true. Learning from Hannah Reyes Morales expanded your vision of the possibilities in photography, and of life itself.

And with that new vision, you returned to Spain, to Barcelona. Together with Elena, you had decided that it would be best if you moved together. She needed a bigger place, and you wanted a more permanent home for yourself. Three moves to three different cities in less than a year isn't for the faint of heart.

Pedri was away with the Spanish national team, returning two days after you. This gave you the perfect amount of time to settle into your new home before seeing him again.

Even though it had been just over six months, those last few minutes stretched into an eternity. You practically leaped up from the sofa when you finally heard the doorbell, taking one last breath before opening the door.

Your heart started beating again when you saw Pedri standing before you, holding a bouquet of tulips.

"Welcome back", he greeted shyly.

He looked different. He'd gained a little more muscle, his hair had grown longer, and his face was fresher. The sparkle in his eyes was still there.

"Thank you", you nodded, taking the bouquet he offered.

The silence was light, both of you trying to absorb this new version of the person in front of you.

“I was wondering if… well, I could ask you out on a date. A proper first date”.

The suggestion touched you, and you smiled, extending your hand.

“I’d love to. Would you like to come in so I can put them in water?”

“If I walk through this door, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back”, he admitted, a deep blush rising across his cheeks.

“I know”, you winked. “I understand your intention to ‘do things right this time,’ but that would imply that what we had before was wrong, and I don’t see it that way”.

Pedri smiled as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He finished walking in confidently and pulled you towards him, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. In that moment, you remembered how much you had missed him: his soft lips that left a trail of affection wherever they touched; his hands that always traced patterns on your body; his firm chest where you could feel his heart beating as wildly as your own.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his breath catching in his throat.

“Absolutely. We can have our first official date after this. From now on, we make the rules”, you suggested.

His face lit up instantly, a proud smile spreading across his cheeks. When your lips met again, you knew everything would be alright, that there was truly nothing to worry about.

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Everything was fine. Barcelona was losing by one goal to Real Madrid with thirty minutes left in the game, the Camp Nou was buzzing with the roar of the fans, and you felt like an open wound among people already celebrating a premature victory. But everything was fine.

Despite your search, you couldn't find a single gossip article that confirmed, or even mentioned, a possible girlfriend for Pedri. Before, that would have been enough, but now you knew those magazines didn't publish everything that actually happened. The temptation to ask him directly arose after days of fruitless inquiries, but anxiety always held you back at the last minute.

What would you do if he answered yes? That he had indeed grown tired of waiting, and with the prospect of you soon leaving Spain, had started seeing someone else? Would you get angry? You had no right. Would you ask him to break up with her? Even you couldn't be that hypocritical.

No, what terrified you was the thought of your heart breaking again. And not in the same way it had cracked with every single one Jude's betrayals, no. What you felt when you stopped to consider the possibility was worse. Like someone pierced through your chest, breaking every bone in the way, until they reached your heart, which they then forcefully pulled out and maliciously crushed in front of you.

Digging your nails into your palms, you forced yourself to focus on the present. After all, as far as everyone was concerned, everything was perfectly fine. After the match, you would go with Pedri to his apartment and enjoy what would probably be the last time you saw each other.

“Come on!” Elena huffed, shuffling her leg in exasperation.

“So you like football now?” you joked.

“No, I just like watching that idiot Jude lose”.

“Elena!” you chuckled. “I remind you that we’re on Real Madrid’s side”.

“For possibly the last time. Let me have a little fun”.

Her comment made the pit in your stomach grow even larger. Looking around, you realized that yes, this was the last time you'd be on this side, with these people, supporting this team. A strange nostalgia washed over you; this had been your life for the last four years. It hadn't always been the best, but it was familiar, and you were going to miss it. Or rather, you were going to miss the potential it had.

Even amidst the chaos of the situation, Pedri's eyes kept meeting yours, seeking encouragement or comfort. You smiled reassuringly, giving him the confidence that no matter the outcome, you would be there for him. With that, his expression brightened, and he returned to the game with his shoulders held high.

“Although it clearly won’t be the last time in this stadium”, Elena joked under her breath, poking you in the ribs.

With flushed cheeks, you glared at her. You were about to retort when Pedri threw a pass to Lamine Yamal, who, after beating the Real Madrid defense, scored the equalizer. The stadium erupted in celebration, while the small area where you stood sank in disappointed groans and grunts.

Pedri hugged Lamine as the other players arrived to join in the celebration. Returning to midfield, he exuded an undeniable air of confidence, clearly more at ease in the game.

As the final minutes ticked by, Barcelona grew bolder, threatening Real Madrid's goal with increasing frequency. You remembered El Clásico at the Bernabéu, those months earlier when the desire for Pedri had begun to take root, though you never imagined it would blossom into the form it was now.

The boldness paid off, and with a powerful and precise shot, Pedri scored the goal that put them ahead. Eyes shining, you almost leapt out of your seat to celebrate, only to remember where you were and tuck the joy inside your chest.

Pedri celebrated with his teammates and the fans across the field, while Jude doubled over with exhaustion near his goal. Returning to his position, Pedri spent a few seconds scanning the crowd, and when he found you, he gave you one of his adorable winks and refocused for the final stretch of the game.

“Was that for you?” Elena whispered in surprise. The blush on your cheeks and the shy smile that crossed your face gave her the answer. “Oh God, he’s completely whipped”.

The words bounced off you, as if your body refused to absorb them. The match ended, and the Real Madrid fans and their entourage applauded listlessly at the result. The players walked into the tunnel, heads bowed.

“We have to go”, you told Elena, getting up from your seat.

“Lead the way.”

On the other side, Barcelona's friends and family were also heading down into the tunnel. Pedri's parents were already coming down when you peeked out. What would they think of you if you ever met them? Would they accept you? Behind them were Pedri's brother and two girls you'd never seen before. Was one of them his girlfriend? Both of them were wearing jackets, so you couldn't tell if one of them was wearing Pedri's jersey.

Your legs trembled as you reached the bottom of the stairs and into the tunnel. Being closer to them, you could see how beautiful they were. Of course, you wouldn't blame Pedri if he was dating one of them; they were laughing with his family, as if they'd known each other for ages. Squashing the feeling deep down, you tried to regain composure, you had no right to feel bad when the jersey you were wearing had another man's name on it.

The familiar insecurity began to gnaw at your brain, devouring every memory that made you feel safe, replacing it with a void where doubt took its place. Had you misinterpreted one of Pedri's gestures? Had you given his words more importance than they deserved? Were his glances really that longing, or had your imagination magnified them?

The sudden applause snapped you out of your thoughts. The Barcelona players began to enter the tunnel. You pressed yourself against the wall, making yourself small, not wanting anyone to notice you.

One by one, the players paraded past you, heart racing, anticipating who you wanted to see the most. But when his figure appeared, he went straight to his family. Obviously, they’re rightfully here with him. He greeted both girls, his hand lingering, ghosting over the lower back of the taller one.

You clutched the bag at the familiar sensation of your hands quivering, trying to force your head to look away. The sharp symptoms cutting brutally. You didn't know if it was because you'd already forgotten them, or if they were truly hitting harder.

Staring at the ground, you let yourself be swept along by the group you were with. Did Pedri feel this way every time he saw you with Jude? After all, no one knew the taste of betrayal better than you. A taste that grew increasingly bitter and harder to swallow, one that even the hungriest had to spit out after a while.

“I’ll let you say your goodbyes. I’ll see you in the car”, Elena winked as she headed toward the parking lot. You nodded with a weak smile.

“Can we leave now? I can’t spend another second in this place”, Jude complained as he approached you.

“Sure, I’ll walk you to the bus,” you replied in a subdued voice. At least there was a believable excuse for your discouragement.

“Aren’t you coming back with me?” he asked, grabbing your arm.

“I already told you I’m staying with Elena”.

“Are you really going to leave me alone at such a delicate moment for me?!”

The people present, some more discreet than others, turned at Jude’s shout, his grip on your arm tightening.

“Don’t raise your voice, please”.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I can and can’t do!” his voice rose even more, pulling you toward him.

The whispers and stares intensified. Embarrassed, you tried to wriggle free from Jude’s grip, but he was stronger.

“Jude, ple—”

“None of this ‘please,’ I’m asking you for something. Are you so fucking useless that you can’t even do that?” his fingers tightening even further.

“Stop, Jude”, you begged. People continued to walk by, but their pitying expressions remained fixed on you. “I understand you’re frustrated—”

“How do you expect me not to get frustrated if you don’t do what I say?” he snapped, his tone suddenly shifting to one that feigned hurt. “Of course, you only care about me when I win. I can’t believe you’re such a gold-digging bitch”.

The murmurs had intensified; some people weren't even trying to hide it anymore and had stopped to watch the spectacle. The words echoed in your head. How many people had actually heard the insult? Jude was supposed to love you, and yet it was so easy for him to call you that. How long would it take Pedri to think the same thing? It had probably already crossed his mind; after all, you were the one playing with both of them at the same time.

“Jude, please, not here,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“Fine, whatever you want…” He pulled you out of the building and dragged you to a less crowded area. “Want to tell me who the fuck you think you are?”

Once again, you found yourself walking on broken glass around him. Knowing that what he wanted was a punching bag to vent his frustration with the outcome of the game, and that you had to stop him from forcing you to leave with him, you stood there, ready to endure whatever else he wanted to say.

“I already told you and I can’t—”

"Can't you, or won't you? Sometimes I'm truly surprised by how fucking stupid you are".

"Don't call me that".

“I can call you whatever I want. The fact that you can’t take it because you’re a sensitive little shit and make a big deal out of everything isn’t my fault”, he spat. Despite trying to hold them back, tears began to flow from your eyes. “And here come the fucking tears, of course. Now I’m the bad guy, when you’re the one being selfish. Things always have to go your way, always wanting to have everything and for everyone to cater to you”.

By this point, Jude had both your arms restrained, preventing you from drying your tears, causing your vision to blur.

“If that’s what you think of me, then why are you still with me?” you blurted out, heartbroken.

The question seemed to surprise Jude, who loosened his grip slightly before tightening it again and forcing his lips onto yours.

“Because I love you”, he smiled as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I love you. You’re lucky I put up with you; no one else will”.

You didn't know whether to take what he'd just said as a compliment or a threat. But what you were sure of was that his statement had amplified the voice in your head that told you you didn't deserve Pedri, that perhaps, in fact, Jude was the only one who could love you despite everything.

Your phone vibrated; it was probably Elena calling to ask about your whereabouts.

“Elena’s waiting for me”, you insisted in a weak whisper. Jude’s face twisted into a grimace of disgust, knowing he hadn’t quite gotten away with it. He let go of you as if holding on any longer would burn him.

“And then you wonder why I do what I do. You’re an ungrateful slut. Now you really have to figure out how with who’s money you’re going to get back to Madrid”, he scowled, turning and storming out into the night.

Still daunted from the encounter, you reached for the phone. You replied to Elena that you'd be with her in a few moments, noticing that Pedri had also texted you to ask where you were. Checking the time, realizing you were a few minutes late.

On the way, you wiped away your tears, picking up, and piecing together the pieces of yourself that Jude had left shattered and scattered around. When you finally reached Elena's car, you saw she looked relieved.

“Everything alright? What happened?”

“Jude tried to convince me to go back to Madrid with him, but I refused”, you shrugged, praying that in the darkness of the night she wouldn’t notice your state.

“That prick. But oh well, now’s not the time to think about him”.

Elena started driving toward Pedri's apartment, while you continued reliving the previous scene. Jude's words, always so sharp and precise, always hit their mark, tearing your trust to shreds.

"You know we can come to my place if you're not feeling well", Elena suggested, parking the car in front of Pedri's building.

"Don't worry, I was just trying to clear my head", you thanked, giving her a hug.

"Enjoy!" Elena gushed, her car disappearing into the darkness.

You trudged into the building, your reflection in the elevator mirror showing you were still visibly shaken. Shaking your arms to release tension, you still couldn't stop your head from spinning. Jude's words infected every corner, contaminating everything in their path.

"It's good that you're already— Are you okay?", Pedri's face looked worried as he opened the door.

His large brown eyes, which you loved so much, now reminded you how little you deserved to be seen like this. Not having the strength to lie to him too, you kissed him hard. Pedri returned the kiss half-heartedly, causing the torrent of times Jude had used soft-spoken cruelty with you, to flood your mind.

“Don’t get all insecure; you know it bothers me”.

“Wait…” Pedri murmured, pulling you away from him.

“Didn’t you want me to come already? Why are you suddenly acting like this?” you replied anxiously.

“Because you’re acting strange. It’s obvious something’s wrong, and you just don’t want to tell me”.

“You’re a sensitive little shit”.

“Am I the one who doesn’t want to tell you something?” you said defensively, self-doubt clouding your judgment. “If anything, you’re the one hiding something”.

Pedri wore a puzzled expression, taking a step back. “I’m not hiding anything from you. You’re here, in my house, so we can have a good time”.

“Thanks for ruining my night with your nonsense”.

“Why? Didn’t your girlfriend want to stay today?” you accused, preparing your full arsenal for the battle you knew was coming.

Pedri pronounced your name cautiously; it was different, but you couldn’t help but remember the times Jude had done it before giving you some lame excuse for his actions. “You’re very upset. It would be better if we sat down”.

“You’re impossible”.

You couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh and walked away. "So you're not denying it?"

"I didn't know I had to deny things I wasn't even aware of", Pedri retorted, running a hand through his hair. He, too, had started to get agitated. "I just want you to be okay—"

"As if you cared. We both know perfectly well that the only thing you get out of this is to fuck your rival's girlfriend", you shot, anticipating what you thought he was going to say.

“I didn't think you were a whore, but it seems I was wrong”.

“Don’t say that because you know it’s not true”, the low, sharp tone in which he said it told you that you had hurt him. Or perhaps it was just his way of continuing to avoid answering your question.

“Well, for me—”

“I’m not going to let you do this!” His firm interruption surprised you. “I’m not going to let you burn this to ashes just because you think you don’t deserve it”.

“I don’t deserve this,” you blurted out, preferring to drink the poison willingly. “I told you in Italy, I’m no good for you, for anyone. I have too many flaws and…”

“No one will ever truly love you as much as I do”.

You covered your face with your hands to hide the shame you felt, tears finally escaping with burning desperation. Wanting to disappear from the world, from Pedri's life, which you had already more than ruined.

“Oh my God, yes, you have several flaws”, Pedri began. Looking up, you braced yourself for another belittling. “You’re a lightweight, you can’t hold more than two drinks. You sleep taking up more than half the bed and you’re constantly stealing my pillow. You like to bathe in boiling water even when it’s hot outside. You refuse to throw away things you don’t use anymore because you think they’ll come in handy someday…”

Not expecting that list, you blinked several times in confusion. “What—?”

“But all those quirks make you you, and I… I love them all”, he exhaled as if he’d just released a long-held breath. “Because I love you”.

The statement left you stunned; the last thing you expected was for Pedri to say that. You shook your head slowly, incredulous. "You don't mean that".

"Except that I do", he replied, taking a step toward you.

"Well, you should find someone easier to love", you mocked, drying the tears sharply.

"There's nothing easier for me than loving you", Pedri gently took your hand and kissed it, then placed it on his chest.

At that moment, you realized that perhaps you had been fighting alone all along. Accustomed to every attempt at explanation ending in arguments, you had forgotten that maybe that wasn't normal. You hadn't noticed when you, too, had become so explosive.

“Pedri, I—I am…”

“Insecure? Distrustful? Quick to jump to fatalistic conclusions? Yeah, no shit”, he sighed warmly. “Bellingham is a fucking looser, and he’s made you believe you’re unlovable because it’s the only way he’s found to keep you around. Because if you realized how extraordinary you are, he wouldn’t stand a chance”.

Swallowing hard, you tried to clear the fog from your mind. Of everything you believed about yourself, how much was a product of Jude's offenses? How much was based on reality and not the distorted version he had forced you to accept?

“I’m sorry, I… I was hurt and I took it out on you, God”, your knees buckled and Pedri held you firmly, guiding you to the sofa to sit down.

“Who— who hurt you? What happened?”

Ashamed to relive what Jude had told you, you recounted the scene he'd made in front of several people, and the subsequent fight when he dragged you outside. Anger overtaking Pedri's face with every word you spoke.

“That’s no excuse for treating you like that, I’m truly sorry, you have no idea how stupid I feel”, you apologized again.

Pedri shook his head, suppressing his anger to focus his attention on you, on that moment. “You’re not stupid. I understand, thank you for apologizing”.

A thick silence fell over the atmosphere. Several events had happened in a short time, and you didn't even know where to begin processing them, but you knew you had to start confronting them so the moment wouldn't be suffocated.

“It was Jude who told me you had a girlfriend. He heard it from Dean when we were in England. He said you left with her after the game”, you began, your gaze fixed on the floor, too embarrassed to look him in the face. “I assumed it was true because of the girls you were with today”.

“I don’t have a girlfriend. Since Ferrán has been obsessing over me seeing someone, he started asking around to see if anyone knew anything. I guess they saw me with my mom’s friend’s family and jumped to conclusions. And the girls I was with today are my cousins”, he explained calmly.

Shame began to flood your body even more; you wanted to punish yourself for having believ—

“Why didn’t you ask me?” Pedri interrupted your train of thought.

"Fear that you would say yes, and fear you would be lying if you said no", you murmured, burying your face deeper in your hands.

“Hey, look at me”, Pedri appealed, kneeling in front of you and unearthing your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that were still falling. You were met with the face of someone recovering from a battle, someone willing to lower his defenses and extend a peace treaty to you. “I understand why you thought that, because I know it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard those explanations. But I’m telling you the truth, I don’t have a girlfriend. It’s just you, it always has been just you”.

If you wanted to break free from Jude's influence, you had to start trusting your own judgment. The past, which screamed at you that none of it was true, that you should punish him for things he hadn't done, could no longer be louder than the tangible present. Lowering your weapons, you nodded, accepting Pedri's explanation, because, after all, he had never given you any reason to distrust him.

“I’m going to break up with Jude. Regardless of whether I get accepted into the workshop or not, I just… I can’t continue with him anymore. I thought the rope was just tightening, not choking me, but lately I’m not so sure about that”, you admitted. Pedri’s face softened for a few seconds before revealing enthusiasm. “However… I need to be alone for a while. I want to find myself again, without being attached to someone. I just want to be me, and work on improving”.

Pedri nodded with equal enthusiasm, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's a great plan".

Gathering all your courage, you confessed what had been on your mind for weeks. “Pedri, I love you too. And I know asking this is selfish, but could you wait for me?”

“Of course. And it’s not selfish of you to ask. We don’t have to be something to be respectful with each other,” he reassured her.

With the tranquility he offered you, you let yourself be enveloped in his arms in a comforting embrace, the air lighter with everything you had both been keeping hidden now exposed, and with the best possible result.

“So I did manage to make you fall for my adorable winks?” he joked, lifting your face with his thumb on your chin.

“Despite them, actually”, you teased back.

Pedri's laughter filled the air, washing away the last traces of anxiety. He brought your lips close and kissed you gently. You knew a long road and a lot of work lay ahead, but you were ready to face it to be better for Pedri, and for yourself.

“Could you lend me some clothes? I really need to take this jersey off,” you murmured, feeling that it had suddenly exceeded the weight you were willing to bear.

Pedri got up and led you to his room. “Take whatever you want, you’ll look good in anything. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen so we can eat”, he said, and after kissing you on the forehead, left you alone.

You went to the bathroom to wash your face, which was itchy from all the crying. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you promised to work to be stronger from now on. That, although it wouldn't be easy, you had to banish Jude's voice that had taken over your conscience.

Wandering through Pedri's closet, you chose one of his shirts and a comfortable pair of pants. His scent lingered on the clothes, comforting as you put them on. Just as you were about to leave the room, a notification on your phone caught your attention. You went over to see what it was, your heart leaping with excitement.

The sender was the International Center of Photography. With trembling hands, you opened the email, eyes trying to focus on the message in front of you. Heat surged through your body upon reading the email, and you dashed to the kitchen.

“I was thinking about—”

“I got accepted,” you interrupted, stumbling into the kitchen.

Pedri’s eyes widened, and he put down the box of pasta he was holding. “You got accepted”, he repeated, his face lighting up.

“I got accepted!” you shouted, even more excited, jumping into his arms.

Pedri caught you and spun you around in celebration. “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you”, he said, showering you with kisses.

“Oh God. I’m going to New York… To learn from Hannah Reyes Morales”, you repeated breathlessly, letting the words sink into you slowly.

“You deserve it”, Pedri affirmed, looking into your eyes.

“I deserve it”, you echoed, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. “I deserve it”, you repeated like a mantra, burying your face in his chest.

That day could only be described as a roller coaster, with steep climbs and drops so fast you thought you'd go off the rails at any moment. But it had been a worthwhile ride. One you couldn't get off yet because there was still one more lap to go.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

An endless stream of notifications pulled you out from sleep. Grumbling, you grabbed the phone to see what all the commotion was about. Squinting, you focused your gaze to read that it was all coming from social media.

Jude Bellingham… mysterious girl in Sevilla…

The arms around your waist tightened their grip, pulling you back down onto the bed, against his chest. You were about to drop the phone, completely uninterested in the matter, and snuggle back down, when a call came in.

“Love, I didn’t wake you up, did I?” greeted Jude in a cheerful voice, the one he forced when trying to cover something up.

“Not your call at least”, you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “The phone had already come alive before that”.

“Oh, yeah. That’s exactly why I was calling. We went out with the guys yesterday and…”

Pedri turned his face, lifting it slightly from the pillow, offering you a sleepy look. You smiled at the sight and stroked his tousled hair.

“You’re still coming back until tomorrow, right?” you asked, not caring if you were interrupting his story.

“Uh, yeah. Do you want me to come back earlier? I wouldn’t mind doing—”

“No! I mean, never mind. I just wanted to know if you still had time today to do the grocery shopping.”

You stifled a laugh when Pedri's hands roamed over your abdomen.

"Of course, love. It's good we were able to clear this up then. I feel much better", Jude noted.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow", you hurriedly said, hanging up quickly so he wouldn't hear you laughing at Pedri's tickling. "Are you crazy?" you turned to him.

“Depends. What did he want?” Pedri asked, locking you into his arms above him.

“Make up excuses, assess the situation, attempt damage control”, you listed, shrugging. “You know I don’t care”, you reassured him when seeing Pedri’s expression harden.

“That doesn’t change the fact he’s a dick”, he grumbled, his voice raspy of just having woken up.

You lowered your head to close the small distance with a soft kiss.

“Good morning to you”, you hummed, watching the bad mood melt from his expression, replaced by one of delight.

“Only because you’re here”, he breathed, releasing your grip to rub his eyes.

Sitting up slowly, Pedri's hands gently stoked your back. The cold had returned to Madrid, and even though the hotel windows were tightly closed, the air still seeped in freely.

"How do you get used to this cold?" Pedri asked, sitting next to you and pulling the covers up more.

"By living it", you shrugged. "Although I have to admit it can get tiring".

"I could never get used to it. What's so fun about being cold all the time?"

You snuggled up to him and rested your head on his chest. “I don’t know, maybe being able to spend the whole day with someone in bed”.

From the silence that fell over him, you knew he was considering the situation. One of his hands began to stroke your hair. “Good point, but playing in this cold is the worst”.

“So you’re not ready to play in England next week?”, you joked

“Of course I am! I refuse to lose to Bellingham again”, he exclaimed. “You’ll be there, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I trust you to wipe that smug look off his face”.

“That’s all the motivation I need”.

“Is that it? Then I guess I won’t need to book that room I had planned to celebrate afterward, or do that surprise I had in mind…” you teased.

“You wouldn’t dare”, he cried, clutching his chest dramatically.

“You already saw me this week, I’m sure you can handle the next one without me”.

“I couldn’t”.

“You’re getting greedy”.

“Addicted, more like”, Pedri corrected.

Remembering the truths you'd accepted in your conversation with Elena, you broke eye contact under Pedri's intense gaze. It was one thing to fool around when the opportunity arose, without strings attached or commitments; pure fun and enjoyment. And it was quite another to be willing to wait for you for six months, endure the public scrutiny that would follow, and face all the difficulties that a real relationship entailed.

“I already developed the roll of film you gave me. Wanna see the photos?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“I’d love to!” he beamed excitedly. “While you’re looking for them, I can order us room service. The usual?”

“Please”, you replied, giving him a kiss.

Leaving the warmth of Pedri's embrace, you went to the bag to find the photos. While Pedri ordered the food, you took the opportunity to open the curtains, letting natural light into the room and warming it up a bit.

“This one’s amazing”, Pedri remarked, pointing to a one you’d taken while covering a birthday party. In it, the girl’s parents were reflected in a mirror, framing them as the main subjects in what was otherwise a rather chaotic scene. “Hey, when did you take this? I didn’t even notice”, he asked, surprised.

You took it in your hands and smiled at the memory. You two had “casually” bumped into each other at a gala in Portugal where, “coincidentally”, left 15 minutes apart to enjoy a little stolen moment at a discreet inn nearby. While touching up your makeup in the bathroom, you noticed that Pedri had fallen into a long silence. Thinking he had fallen asleep, you went out intending to wake him, only to find him leaning against the window, gazing at the scenery.

“I liked how the moonlight illuminated you”, you replied softly. “Besides, it’s for me”.

“There are several for you”, he empathized as he continued, seeing himself in more than one photograph.

Another one showed Pedri intently pouring mozzarella cheese onto pizza dough in his apartment. A pizza you ultimately couldn't eat because you didn't hear the alarm announcing they were ready. It fell on deaf ears as you two were too busy in the living room. Until finally, the smell of something burning altered something was wrong.

"The firefighters had to come and check that everything was alright, remember?" you laughed.

"My delicious pizzas, reduced to burnt blocks. At least we have this as proof that they were beautiful before the accident".

Another photo showed Pedri sunbathing, shirtless, by a hotel pool in Barcelona. With a raised eyebrow, he glanced at you mischievously, and you snatched the photo from his hands, cheeks flushed.

“Who do you trust to develop these photos? Don’t you think they might notice?”

“Yes, I do, that’s why I develop them myself”.

Pedri looked at you with admiration. “You can do that?”

“Of course, there are several studios where, if you know how, they’ll let you develop your own film. I learned in a workshop before starting university”.

Pedri glanced back at the photographs, gently caressing them before looking at you again. “You’re truly amazing. I should take more pictures of you too”, he sighed affectionately. “Would you teach me?”

You could have died right then and there; heart racing in your chest and brain short-circuiting. Not able to tell if it was the words, the sincere tone in which he said them, or Pedri’s eyes that looked at you as if you were a galaxy contained within a single person.

“Ye— Yes. Thank you”, you exhaled, coming back to yourself. “There’s… there’s one for you too”.

Picking the stack of photos and rummaging through them until you found the one. You had taken it upon returning to Madrid after the conversation with Elena. Needing to see if you had really changed at all since you started seeing Pedri. You weren’t even surprised to find that, while you hadn’t gone back to being the girl you were before, a glimmer of hope had settled on your face.

“You look beautiful, thank you so much”, he thanked, receiving the photograph and looking at it fondly.

“I hope you’ll give me the other one back”, you joked.

“It’s at my house, and right now my house is really far away…” Pedri began to explain, burying his nose in the crook of your neck.

The knock on the door announced that breakfast had arrived. As Pedri made his way to greet it, you got up to put the photos back in your bag and head to the small dining area.

Eating in that space with Pedri felt so domestic, even though you were in a hotel room. But that was something he did everywhere you went; no matter where your paths crossed, or whether time was short or long, Pedri always managed to make you feel at home.

“Do you know what other advantage the cold has?” you asked, finishing your cup of coffee. Pedri tilted his head curiously. “That we can relax in the bathtub”.

With Pedri’s eyes fixed on your figure, you headed to the bathroom. Once there, you turned on the shower and sprinkled the lavender oils on the bath. Pedri joined you shortly after, closing the door behind him.

Once the water was at the perfect temperature, you tied your hair up and undressed with Pedri's help.

"Damn, that feels good", he exhaled as he stepped into the water.

You lay back against his chest as he placed his hands on your legs.

“So how did it go, explaining your friend about… us?” he inquired after a few minutes of silence.

“She didn’t take it badly. If there’s anyone who really hates Jude, it’s Elena. So don’t worry, our secret’s safe with her. Have you… told anyone?”

“No. Although I think Ferrán suspects something’s up with me”.

“Oh yeah? Why is that?”

Pedri began tracing shapes with his fingers along your legs.

“Because I disappear after some games without explanation, I seem more distracted than usual, I don’t spend as much time with them on some outings—”

“Am I causing you to drift away from your friends?” you asked, turning to look at him quickly. “That’s not my intention, I—”

Pedri’s lips cut off your apology.

“You’re not drifting me away from anyone”, he reassured, stroking your chin. “We see each other every day, it’s just that Ferrán is incredibly clingy”.

“And have you explained your behavior to him?” you asked, returning to lie back against his chest.

Pedri fell into a long silence. Nervous about it, you were about to rephrase your question when he answered. “That I’m where I want to be, and that he shouldn’t worry about me”.

“I see”, you murmured.

“So, how’s your application for your workshop in New York going ?” he was now the one who changed the subject.

“They’ll announce the results in two weeks”.

“Excited?”

“Terrified. What if they don’t accept me? Pedri, I swear this is an opportunity I’ve dreamed of my whole life. I don’t know what I’d do if they rejected me”.

“Try again”, he soothed, now gently stroking your arms. “It doesn’t matter how many times you fail, how many ‘no’s’ you hear, the important thing is to always try again. You can do it as many times as necessary; no one has the right to judge you for trying to achieve your dreams. A rejection doesn’t define your talent”.

With a calm smile on your lips, you turned back to look at him. You knew he wasn't just saying those things; he truly meant them. Should you be the one to ask him if he'd wait for you? Should you do it then, or wait until you have the results?

"The water's getting cold", you cleared your throat after a few seconds. "We should finish our bath".

Pedri nodded lovingly. He reached for the soap and began to gently lather your body. You took the shampoo and massaged it into his hair until it formed a good layer of bubbles. Giggling when Pedri took some and spread it on your cheeks.

“Did you bring the towels?” you asked after you finished rinsing.

Pedri looked at you with a blank expression. “Did you really expect me to think about towels when everything that occupied my head was you lying in this tub?” he excused himself under your reprimanding look.

“Well, that’s why you have to go get them now”, you stuck out your tongue. “I’ll make it up to you”, you purred at his pout, tracing his chest with your finger.

With those words, Pedri got out of the tub and went to the bed to get the towels. When he returned, he wrapped one around you and carried you out. Amid laughter and kisses, he lowered you in front of the bed so you could dry off, although Pedri's chest pressed against yours provided enough warmth to keep you comfortable.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The crowd was in an uproar; shouts, insults, and demands flew through the stadium. And how could they not be, losing at home? The Spanish fans, a red stain in what was otherwise a sea of ​​white shirts, celebrated the second goal euphorically.

Clutching your Spain scarf to your face, you managed to hide the smile that grew even wider when Pedri pointed in your direction as he ran past, celebrating the goal he had just scored. To a casual observer, it might have seemed as if he was pointing at the entire section, but you knew the truth.

«The goal I score today is for you»

He had texted before the game started.

The atmosphere around was different. Family and friends of the English players slumped in their seats, disappointed, angry, and sad. Meanwhile, you sat tall and proud, able to excuse the glee with the fact that your country was winning. 

As you entered the VIP box, several people glanced at you apprehensively. You suspected it was because of the paradox between the jersey and the scarf, but once you reached your seat, you realized there might be another reason.

Two rows ahead, Lizzy was laughing and whispering with several friends, wearing a Jude jersey. As you took seat, the group looked at you with a mixture of pity and vanity. But far from reliving the pain they had caused in the past, their presence brought you relief. Now you were completely certain that Jude would disappear after the game, and you could enjoy an uninterrupted evening with Pedri, who had looked absolutely delicious throughout the entire game.

The whistle signaled the end of the match. Despite being a friendly, the two-goal defeat weighed heavily on the English players, who began to leave the field dejected. You spotted Jude, who was still on the pitch thanking the fans, his jaw askew in frustration.

Accompanying his parents, you went downstairs to enter the tunnel and wait for him there. Suppressed giggles followed you as you passed Lizzy's group. The spark of irritation was quickly replaced by excitement when you realized Pedri was coming straight toward you.

Bliss flickered in his eyes as his eyes fell on you. With a pounding heart, you struggled to tear your gaze away from his triumphant smile. 

Lowering the hand that had been clutching your purse to your chest, you let it fall to your side. You felt, very lightly, his finger brush against yours as he passed by, igniting a spark within. However fleeting the moment, it managed to steal every last breath that was stored in your lungs.

“You did everything you could, son”, Jude’s mother comforted him as he approached.

“It wasn’t enough”, he grunted. His eyes, fixed on your scarf, then struggled to reach your face, shame filling his expression. His state moved you, cautiously approaching, surprised when his arms wrapped around as he leaned his weight against you. “I know I told you I was staying with my parents tonight, but I need you now. Will you stay with me, please?”

Stunned by his words and feeling bad by his sadness, you nodded against his chest. Jude had rarely been so vulnerable, and you didn't have the heart to deny him what he asked for. Besides, you lacked a good excuse to get away from him in his own country.

“Jude!” Lizzy’s shout made you turn around quickly.

You were about to abruptly pull away from Jude, when his grip tightened, keeping you in place. Turning to look at him confused, you noticed the harsh expression on his face; he was angry.

“Come on, I just need to gather my things”, he said, turning back to the group. His parents started walking.

“Hey, let me through!” Lizzy exclaimed, struggling with the guard at the tunnel entrance.

“This area is for friends and family only”, he said plainly.

“I’m… Jude! I’m with you, right?” she pleaded.

This time your stomach sank, not from sadness, but from second hand embarrassment from the little show she was putting on. Jude’s hands guided your face to his lips, a short but intentional kiss. Flushed under Jude’s smug gaze, you let yourself be drawn closer to his chest.

“She’s the only one with me”, Jude indicated to the guard, who nodded. “Because you’re my girl, right?” he murmured softly.

Lizzy’s expression was one of bitter disbelief. With the last of her dignity, she stomped away until she was out of sight.

“Ri– right”, you stammered, turning back to Jude, who smiled and, with his arm around your shoulders, guided you inside.

The interaction that had just taken place had been very confusing. What had made Jude suddenly change his plans? Why, after so many times, was he finally putting a stop to Lizzy? With these and other questions, you left him to go to the locker room to get his things.

«I need to talk to you. Can you come to the parking lot?»

Pedri's message brought you back to reality, a reality where you'd have to tell him you couldn't go ahead with the plan to meet up tonight. Slipping through the stadium corridors, you managed to reach the spot Pedri had indicated in the parking lot. He was leaning against a car, looking at his phone.

"Great game", you congratulated him, trying to get his attention. He looked at you with a dim expression, unusual for someone who had just won a match. "Everything alright?"

“Yes, it’s just that… we’ll have to postpone our plans for tonight”, he apologized.

“I’m sorry to say, but we’ll actually have to cancel them”, you apologized. 

“What? Why?” Pedri asked, puzzled.

“Jude told me he wanted to spend the night with me. That he needed me”, you fidgeted with your fingers. Pedri frowned almost imperceptibly, wrinkling his nose like when something bothered him. “And you? What happened?”

“Oh, we ran into a friend of my mom’s and her family, and they want to go out for dinner”, he explained, trying to hide his annoyance.

Approaching Pedri, you gently stroked his cheek. He took your hand in his and kissed it tenderly.

"You know there's nothing I want more in the world than to be with you, but..."

"I know, I know... you can't", he sighed. "And neither can I. I just... I didn't think I definitely wouldn't be able to be with you tonight".

"Thanks for the goal", you smiled, pressing yourself closer to him.

The usual playfulness had returned to his face, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. "I owed you that".

With his lips so close, you couldn't resist the temptation and melted into them. Your hands went to his hair, tracing long strokes down to the nape of his neck. Meanwhile, Pedri's arms tightened their grip, deepening the kiss.

In no time, the innocent kiss had transformed into a full make out session. Pedri's fingers etched his need for you into every squeeze.

“We should stop…” you gasped, breaking the kiss.

“We should…” he replied, equally breathless. “How much time do you have?”

“What?”

“How much time do you have before you have to go back to him?”

“I—I don’t know, maybe ten minutes?”

At your answer, Pedri pulled you back into an impatient kiss. You heard him unlock the car, then he separated to open the back door.

“Ten minutes will have to be enough then, please”, he pleaded, inviting you in.

What he was offering was insane; despite the darkness, anyone could stumble upon you. After all, there were still some cars parked around. But seeing his eyes, having tasted his lips, and having been impatient all game to have him all to yourself, it was too tempting a proposition to resist.

Your lips met his as you both got into the car, slamming the door shut. Without wasting a second, you straddled him, brushing his jacket and shirt aside. He, in turn, irritably removed the England jersey that covered your body. His eyes gleamed with excitement as he revealed your breasts adorned with a lace bra, part of a lingerie set.

"Surprise", you gushed. "This was part of your celebration".

"Shit—God", he muttered under his breath. "Due to the rush, I won't be able to appreciate it as you deserve, but I want you to know this is the best surprise in the world", he gasped, his pupils dilated, a fierce look in his eyes.

Pedri pressed hurried kisses to your exposed chest and neck. The wetness between your legs grew as you felt his erection grow, rubbing against it to ease the ache you felt.

"Fuck—yes, just like that", he groaned at the sensation.

The need to feel him inside you was all-consuming, especially knowing you had no time to waste. You slid back, allowing him to undo his pants and pull down his boxers enough to free his hard cock.

“In my backpack, in the front…” he pointed at the passenger seat.

You turned around and easily found the condom. Going back you handed it to him, watching hungrily as he slipped it on, taking off your pants.

“Come here, gorgeous”, he growled, pulling you closer to kiss you again.

Pedri’s tongue explored every corner of your mouth, claiming every area as his own. Breaking the kiss, you straddled him again, aligning him with you, pushing your panties aside, finally sliding down onto him slowly.

Both of you let out a moan heavy with relief at the sensation of pleasure. You waited a few seconds before slowly beginning to move. One of Pedri's hands flew to your hips and pulled them down hard.

"That’s right. Ride me, baby", Pedri gasped, his other hand moving up your bra to free one of your breasts.

"Pedri—God", you moaned as you felt him push his hips up to meet yours.

The car windows were already completely fogged up, the heat intoxicating, intensifying the arousal you felt. The sway of your hips increased, one hand pressing against the window and the other gripping Pedri's shoulder for stability.

Pedri continued to hold your hips tightly, as if they were the only thing anchoring him to solid ground. His eyes reveled in the bounce of your breasts before him, occasionally cupping one and pinching the hardened nipple, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"You look incredible like this..." he praised, his voice low and husky.

You clenched your walls around him as Pedri lowered his thumb to caress your clitoris. A whimpering mess, unable to control the sounds escaping your lips at the delicious sensation.

“Come on, beautiful, cum with me. You’re so fucking good to me”, Pedri pleaded in a low voice.

Throwing your head back and digging your nails into Pedri’s shoulder, you felt as if a lightning bolt had struck you. The orgasm exploded, sending a trail of fire that consumed your entire body.

Pedri stabilized you with both hands, holding you by the waist and thrusting upward relentlessly, seeking his release. The loss of the rhythm he had established told you that he was close, reaching his climax with a guttural groan.

Still breathing heavily, you pressed your forehead to his, hair falling to the sides. His hands moved up to your back, hugging you closer. Pedri opened his eyes heavily; they were glassy, ​​and there was a hint of disappointment in them.

“I wish we had more time”, he breathed, his fingers caressing your skin, each stroke begging you to stay.

“I know”, you stroked his cheek.

The moment was interrupted by the ringing of your phone. You reached for where you had tossed your bag and pulled it out.

“I’m leaving now. Where are you?” Jude asked.

“Got lost on the way back to the bathroom. But I’m coming”.

“I’ll wait for you at the exit, and hurry up”, he huffed before hanging up.

Turning back to Pedri apologetically. “I need to…”

“Leave, yeah, I noticed”, Pedri finished dejectedly.

You got off his lap and started looking for your clothes in the small, dark space of the car.

“What’s up with the car?” you asked, trying to ease the tension that had built up.

“I rented it for us, but now I guess I’ll use it to take my family out to dinner”.

Between being touched that he had wanted to drive you to the hotel, and mortified that his family would be using the car, you turned to him. “You’re— you’re going to pick up your family here? Where we just…”

Pedri chuckled softly and caressed your back to calm you down. “I’m going to let it air out a bit first, but yes. No one will notice anything, don’t worry”.

Noticing that the windows were still fogged up, one with your handprint on it, you continued getting dressed. When finished, you opened the door and the cold air that hit you made you shiver; Pedri lowered all the windows.

“Enjoy your dinner”,  you smiled shyly.

“Thanks. You… sleep well”, he murmured, looking down.

“You have nothing to worry about… he won’t get what’s only yours”, you blurted out.

The statement surprised you; you hadn’t even realized when Pedri had managed to break down all the walls that usually protected your vulnerability, yet he had.

Pedri looked at you adoringly and pulled you in for a kiss. All the rigidity that had built up since Jude’s call melted away in that moment, leaving only Pedri’s usual softness.

“Next time you’ll get two goals”, he beamed.

Nodding, you stepped away from him and waved goodbye. Turning back to him as you were about to re-enter the stadium, you saw Pedri still contemplating you. You blew him a kiss and, without waiting for his reaction, walked inside with a smile.

The cold followed all the way to where Jude was waiting. Praying he couldn't smell or feel Pedri's essence on you, you took the passenger seat. Jude talked the whole way to the hotel about the game, going over mistakes he'd made and other trivialities you hadn't noticed.

"And that dickhead Pedri, of course he was going to score if he wanted to show off in front of his girlfriend", Jude bickered, slamming the driver's side door.

Your blood ran cold with a familiar sensation, your heart stopped suddenly, only to start racing again. Anxiety gripped your body, leaving you standing motionless in front of the closed passenger door, feeling like you were falling backward.

“Girl— Girlfriend?” you managed to say through the jumble of words swirling in your head.

“Yeah, Dean said he saw her leaving with his family after the game and…”

Jude’s words trailed off as you rode the elevator up to the hotel room. It had to be a mistake, a slip of the tongue, a misunderstanding. No, it couldn’t be. Pedri hadn’t told you anything, and he was bound to tell you something like this…

But what right did you have to feel bad if it was true? After all, you did have a boyfriend. Maybe Pedri had grown tired of waiting and decided to act just like you, and even though it hurt to admit it, he had every right to do so. Especially now that there was a chance you might leave… maybe that's why he did it. 

Was she the reason he wanted to postpone your night?

Trying to put the matter out of your mind, you splashed water on your face to calm yourself. But it was impossible to forget, especially when, standing in the mirror, you saw the marks his fingers had left on your hips. You traced them with your fingers, hoping that what Jude had told you was just another one of his lies.

"But I'll get him back next week", Jude emphasized. "I'll regain the lead in El Clásico".

Wrapping yourself under the covers and turning your back on him, you fought back the urge to cry.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“At that point, all we could hear was the maid of honor arguing with someone in the hallway. The bride was still getting her makeup done inside, and we were pretending not to hear anything while I kept taking pictures of the bride and her bridesmaids. But the videographer got curious and, with the excuse that he was going to film some shots outside, he went out. He came back about five minutes later, and guess what?”

“What?” Pedri urged, shaking your leg slightly.

“The groom’s mother was wearing a white dress”, you declared, emphasizing the last words.

Pedri threw his head back, stunned. When he looked back, his eyes were wide. “And what happened next? Did the bride know? Did the groom know?”

“According to the videographer, they were expecting something like that to happen. But while he was telling me all this, the bride called us and said that the groom’s mother wasn’t included in the wedding plans anymore, so we shouldn’t worry about having her in the photos. Apparently, they had agreed with the groom that if that happened, they would kick her out…” you continued.

Pedri was speechless, a sight you always found adorable. It wasn't unusual for him to get so caught up in your work stories; it was something you'd never tire of. That's why you usually saved the best ones to tell him in person and see his colorful expressions.

Because there, in his bed, in his Barcelona apartment, with the photograph you'd given him adorning his nightstand, wearing only one of his shirts while he was tangled between your legs and the sheets, it was the closest thing to perfection you could imagine experiencing.

Even so, something prevented you from fully enjoying that moment.

“Some people are truly crazy”, he observed, pulling you from your thoughts. “But at least everything turned out alright for the couple, who, well, I feel were the ones who needed to be okay at the end of the day if it was their wedding”.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing”, you exhaled, feeling Pedri’s fingers lightly trace your legs.

“What’s wrong?” he asked suddenly.

“Nothing’s wrong”, you replied quickly.

“Of course something’s wrong”.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you suddenly drift off and come back with a blank stare”, he replied, raising an eyebrow.

Looking down, you wondered when he had learned to read you so well. Pedri's fingers continued caressing your legs, giving you time to gather your thoughts.

"I applied for a workshop that Hannah Morales Reyes is teaching, and I made it to the final stage", you finally admitted. Pedri's face lit up, a proud smile spreading across his face. He rushed towards you and planted kisses all over your face.

"Congratulations! Tell me more, I want to know everything".

"Well... it's in New York and it will last six months", you explained nervously at his reaction to the information.

Pedri blinked several times, processing the news. The expression on his face didn't fade; it only softened.

“I see…” he murmured, tucking a few stray hairs around your face. Now it was your turn to wait for him to gather his thoughts. “It’s a great opportunity for you…”

“If they accept me”, you chimed in, fidgeting with your fingers.

“They’re going to accept you. I know I’m no expert, but I’ve seen your work, and I genuinely think it’s very good”. Pedri tightened his embrace, and you didn’t dare break eye contact, especially when his eyes held such sincerity. “Did Jude react so badly that you thought I was going to reac—?”

“Jude doesn’t know yet”, you interrupted. Seeing his surprised look, you continued. “I’m going to wait until it’s official to tell him because I don’t think he’s going to like the idea”.

“And who cares what he likes?”

You debated whether or not to tell Pedri the extent of your plan. Part of you hoped that maybe Pedri would be willing to wait for you to return. But another part of you hesitated, that part that, despite everything, still didn't feel good enough for him.

A gentle nudge on your cheek brought you back to the present.

"You're doing it again", Pedri remarked with a smile.

"Sorry, sometimes I can't help it", you apologized, cheeks flushed.

"I'm here", Pedri said, reaching for your hand to kiss it, then placing it against his heart. "And like I already told you, I'll always be here".

Shit. It was one thing to admit that Pedri stirred a fire in your flesh, but another to accept that you felt... deeper feelings, longings that your heart harbored.

Without knowing how to respond, you kissed him. Pedri deepened the kiss, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you closer. Before long, your fingers were caressing his bare torso, begging for more; his hands venturing beneath the hem of his shirt on your body.

“We have to celebrate the news, don’t you think?” he purred with a playful smile, brushing his lips against yours.

“Anything on your mind?”

“A couple of things…”

As Pedri slid his hand between your legs, your phone started ringing. You ignored it, knowing that nothing in the world mattered more than Pedri gently biting your neck. But as soon as it rang a third time, you stood up, determined to turn it off, when you saw Elena’s name on the screen.

“Elena, is everything okay?” you asked, puzzled, as Pedri pouted at you.

“Yes, I just wanted to check that you were coming with the pastries”, you heard her say, laughing nervously relieved on the other end of the line.

“What are you talking about? I—”

“Wait, let me ask him. Jude, do you want one too?”

Your blood ran cold at the mention of Jude’s name, your heart stopping the moment you heard his voice in the distance. You scanned the multiple messages asking where you were and saying that Jude had come to her house to check on you, plus the missed calls Elena had left.

“He says yes, so bring more, okay?” From her tone, you deduced she was confused, but she was feigning calm to cover for you.

“I’ll be there in 15 minutes”, you sputtered before hanging up. Pedri looked confused, and his confusion only grew when you jumped out of bed.

“Where are you going?” he asked, disoriented.

“Jude’s with Elena, I don’t know why or how, and she just called me to say I need to bring some pastries…” you explained, trembling, unsure whether you should take a shower or if it was better to get there quickly. Where on earth would you get pastries?

“There’s a bakery a couple of blocks away. Take a quick shower and I’ll get your clothes ready”, Pedri soothed you, understanding the situation.

Tying your hair back, you stepped into the shower and washed hurriedly, your heart pounding. Jude was supposed to be in Madrid. What on earth was he doing in Barcelona the day before a match? Overcoming the dizziness that was starting to creep in, you managed to get out of the shower. Pedri had gathered your clothes scattered around his room and laid them on his bed, and he had gotten dressed too.

“Wait, I can’t bring my suitcase in. That would be weird”, you stopped him when you saw he’d taken it to the door.

“Oh, right, sorry”, he apologized. Despite trying to appear calm, his action had betrayed him, revealing his nervousness.

“It’s okay, maybe it is a good idea to put it in the car, just in case”, you reassured him.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Pedri asked once you were in the car.

“Yes, don’t worry about me”.

After stopping for the pastries, Pedri drove to within three blocks of Elena's apartment. His gaze was still worried when you turned to give him a quick goodbye kiss.

"Call me when you can, please", he asked before you closed the door.

Pastries in hand, you tried to hold onto what little control you had left. For the sake of everyone involved, you pushed the last moments with Pedri out of your memory. You shouldn't be thinking about him; you should return to a time when a surprise visit from Jude meant the world.

When Elena let you into her building, you felt the lump in your throat grow. You were seconds away from dealing with a situation that might not even leave the confines of your friend's apartment, or it could end in a colossal disaster.

"She's back!" Elena announced in a squeal that held both relief and bewilderment.

"Yeah, it's just that I couldn't... find... you know, the ones we like", you mumbled.

Jude got up from the dining room chair and walked over to you with open arms. "Sorry to interrupt your girls' night in, but I had to come to an emergency meeting and thought I'd stop by and say hi".

“How thoughtful, love, you shouldn’t have bothered”. you replied, burying your face in his chest, hoping he thought your racing heart was from the joy of seeing him, and not from the panic of the whole truth suddenly coming out.

“It’s no bother at all”, he corrected, taking the box. “Elena already made the tea; we were just waiting for you”.

In a bizarre and awkward scene, you took a seat next to Jude, across from Elena, whose nervousness was still evident on her face. Jude spoke about his meeting while you and Elena exchanged glances, hers full of questions and yours promising answers.

You focused on Jude, giving him your undivided attention as you had before, and performed the routine autopsy to determine his intentions. Focusing on his eyes, you tried to see if suspicion lurked in his gaze, if there was something behind the pride he displayed. You dissected his voice into comprehensible fragments; his tone was carefree, not tinged with distrust; he spoke with his usual vanity; and as always, the conversation revolved around him.

There were no suspicious questions, nor any attempts to delve deeper in anyone but him. The assumptions were focused on him, on how everyone perceives the world the same way he does. It became obvious to you that Elena was still in shock when she made no effort to refute it. In the end, you concluded that this Jude had no ulterior motives. He was the same Jude you knew, and… and you knew he wasn't pretending to be ignorant about you and Pedri.

“Thank you so much for having me, Elena”, Jude said, getting up. “But I won’t interrupt any longer because I have to catch my flight back”.

“You’re welcome”, Elena replied dryly, clearing the plates.

“Don’t you want to take advantage of this and come back with me?” Jude suggested.

Just when you thought you had escaped unscathed from the situation, the question threw you off balance. Mind going blank, as you laughed nervously, unsure of what to say.

“Well, she already promised to help me put together a bookcase”, Elena interjected. “So I’m sorry, Jude, I can’t give her back to you yet”.

“Fine, see you tomorrow then”, Jude agreed, hugging and kissing you on the lips.

It wasn't until the elevator showed that Jude had arrived on the first floor that you felt the air return to your lungs. You slumped onto Elena's couch and covered your face with your hands.

"That was close", you murmured to yourself.

"I don't mean to disturb your peace, but... can you explain what the hell that was? Why did Jude come looking for you at my apartment if you left two days ago? Where were you when you weren't answering your phone? How did you manage to get here so fast? Why are you freshly showered?" Elena drilled, pacing back and forth in front of you.

"Is it obvious I'm freshly showered?" you asked fearfully.

"I'm sure Jude didn't notice because that would mean sticking his head out of his own ass, but I'm not him, so yes, it's obvious. And you don't even smell like your usual soap. What the fuck is going on?!"

Lowering your hands, you began to organize your thoughts.

“I’m going to tell you, but you have to promise me two things. That you won’t kick me out of your apartment and that you won’t tell anyone”, you replied seriously.

The concern was palpable on Elena’s face as she nodded. Answering Elena was important, but there was a priority you knew came before that.

“Where are you going?” Elena asked when she saw you get up from the couch and head out to her balcony.

“I need to make a call first, I won’t be long”, you promised before closing the window.

You watched Elena go to the kitchen to wash the dishes, a habit she had when she wanted to distract herself. With fingers still trembling, and after verifying that there really was no trace of Jude on the street below, you called Pedri. The phone hadn’t even rung halfway through ringing when he answered.

“Yes?” From his tone, you deduced that he was trying to be nonchalant. Failing spectacularly, and endearingly, the tremor in his voice revealed his unease.

“Everything’s fine. He just came for a meeting and stopped by to say hello, that’s all. We’re safe”, you exhaled, and heard Pedri do the same on the other end of the line.

“God… I’m glad to hear that. I haven’t moved from where I left you, I don’t know… I wanted to be prepared in case something bad happened”, he murmured gloomily before continuing more calmly. “But nothing bad happened. Should I come pick you up?”

Biting a nail, you turned back to Elena, who was washing the dishes with more fervor than was warranted.

“No, I’ll stay with Elena and go back to Madrid tomorrow. I don’t want to push my luck twice in one day”.

“I understand. I’ll drop off your suitcase then, I’ll be there in 5 minutes”, he volunteered. “And don’t apologize for this situation, it’s not your fault and I’m not angry.”

“I wasn’t going to apologize”, you defended yourself, swallowing the apology that was halfway up your throat.

“Uh-huh…” Pedri crooned, amused.

After hanging up, you took a breath before stepping back into Elena's apartment.

"I need to go downstairs to get something, will you come with me?"

Questions piling up in her head as she nodded silently.

"I promise to answer everything when we come back. But for now, I need you to stay here, please", you pleaded as you reached the entryway of the building. Pedri's car was already parked in front of the glass door, Elena's eyes traveling from it to you, until she finally nodded again.

Pedri got out of his car as he saw you leaving the building. He'd pulled his hood up to conceal his identity, though it was only a matter of time before someone recognized him. Resisting the urge to seek comfort and reassurance in his arms, you went to the trunk.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asked, pretending to organize something in the trunk to buy some time.

"Yeah, it's just, you know… the adrenaline's worn off and it's left me with this weird feeling", you joked to lighten the mood. "Besides, I'll have to tell Elena about us".

"I understand your concern", Pedri said, reaching out until his hand almost touched yours. "You know you can come back to my apartment. I'll be there if you need me".

"Thanks, Pedri, but you don't have to worry. I know I can trust Elena, it's just that…" you trailed off. The same part of you that didn't want to explore the feelings that had only deepened because of Pedri, also didn't want to admit that you were cautious of the possibility of sharing that relationship with someone else.

"It's okay, you don't have to explain anything. I trust you".

His last words froze you. They broke your heart and caressed it at the same time. Simply smiling at him and squeezing his hand. Pedri carried your suitcase down to the street, and again, the moment to say goodbye came too quickly.

"Good luck in your match tomorrow, you'll do great. I’ll be watching".

"Good luck with your conversation today, everything will be alright".

Standing in front of him, the inches that separated you felt absurd, yet necessary. Pedri reached out to caress your cheek, but quickly lowered his hand, which hovered over yours.

Words weren't needed; knowing how much he longed to close the distance because you felt the same. The conversation of a group of people approaching broke the spell, and you both took a step back.

"Call me when you can", he cleared his throat, returning to the driver's seat.

"I will".

Elena's face had completely changed; beyond confusion, there was a certain stupefaction displayed in her expression. Taking her arm, you started the walk back, and once in the safety of her apartment, you let go.

"Wha–? Who–?" Elena asked, sitting down on the sofa.

Now it was you who walked in front of her, trying to find the right words to begin explaining the situation.

"I'm having an affair", you finally blurted out.

Elena remained silent for a moment, her eyes fixed on you, searching for something that would tell her you were joking. Finding nothing, her face relaxed, reflecting relief; now it was you who was confused.

“Why are you laughing?” you squealed.

“So he’s the reason you’ve been so lively lately. Thank God. I thought Jude had lobotomized you so you’d be happy knowing about his infidelities”, Elena laughed.

A blush crept up your cheeks, looking away, biting your cheek.

“So every time you visit me you take the opportunity to spend a few days with him, or have you come without visiting me?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

The heat intensified in your cheeks, and you gave her a mortified look. “The first one.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“A few… you know, it hasn’t been that long…” you dismissed, fiddling with your shoes. But Elena’s insistent gaze told you she wasn’t going to drop the subject so easily. “Eight months… five since it became… physical”, you murmured.

Seeing Elena’s gaping expression, you sat down next to her. Surprised by the look she gave you, as if she were proud of you.

“Well… what else? I need all the details—”

“Elena!”

“I just saved your ass, pleeease”.

From her reaction, her being your best friend, her hatred for Jude, and yes, the fact that she'd just covered for you without you having to say a word, you knew Elena was the perfect person to confide in.

You started from the beginning, from the night at the museum, describing each of your chance encounters, until they became intentional. Elena nodded from time to time, as if questions she'd been asking herself for a long time were finally being answered.

“And nobody else knows?”

“No”.

“The press, how have you managed to avoid them?”

“Apparently, if you want to keep that you’re cheating on your partner under wraps, you can. It just requires not being stupid, or cruel”, you laughed bitterly.

“And how have you managed to balance the physical aspect with both of them?”

“Balancing it would mean that Jude pursues me as intensely as Pedri does”, you muttered, rolling your eyes. “At first, I didn’t think about it much, because it didn’t happen that often with Jude. But lately, I have been intentionally avoiding it because… well, I feel like I’m actually being unfaithful to Pedri”, you admitted, unable to stop the thought from becoming words.

“And you haven’t left Jude for Pedri because…?”

“It’s not that simple”.

“Explain”.

You turned to her, almost offended by what she was asking. “First of all, there’s the whole rivalry between them and their respective clubs. I don’t even want to imagine the insults I’d get from all sides… It would be like throwing myself to the wolves to be devoured alive”.

“You’re right, I don’t usually pay attention to those things, but I understand that it scares you”, Elena comforted you, stroking your arm. “But I know there’s something that scares you even more, what is it?”

Scratching your neck, you hesitated before admitting what had also been gnawing at you all this time: “What if he just wants me like this, casually, just for the thrill of it all?”

“I could entertain that theory if I hadn’t seen you today”, Elena appealed. “It’s obvious he’s crazy about you. Come on! He even took care of you when you were sick; you don’t do that for someone you’re just sleeping around with”. Her expression hardened for a moment. “That idiot Jude has made you believe you’re worthless, that you deserve all the shit he’s put you through. But nothing could be further from the truth”, she scoffed. As if she’d gotten rid of the poison she’d been holding in, before continuing more calmly. “There are many of us who see the good in you, who love you, and Pedri… I’d bet he’s one of us”.

“Then that means I’ve been playing with someone who cares about me, and I don’t think he deserves someone like that”, you sank into the coach.

“The good thing is, you haven’t been playing with him. I already told you I saw you both today”.

“You really don’t think I’m a bad person? I thought you hated cheaters”.

“No, and not because you’re my best friend. Obviously, I wish things were different, but I won’t deny that Jude brought it on himself”.

“What if I go to New York—?”

“When you go to New York…” Elena interrupted. “You’ll realize there’s a whole world out there. A world that goes beyond gossip about football players and their relationships. Have you told Pedri yet, or is he in the same dark as Jude?”

“I told him today”.

“Damn, did I interrupt you?”

“No, you interrupted something else, but not the news”, a warm feeling rose in your cheeks as Elena gave you a mischievous smile.

“If that’s what I interrupted, then it means he didn’t take it badly”, she teased.

“Well… it wasn’t exactly why he said it, but he did say he’d be here, always…,” you repeated, feeling your heart melt once more at the statement.

“I know regaining trust after that dickhead Jude won’t be easy, but it’s possible. You just have to give it a chance, and you’ll see it’ll be better than you can imagine”.

At that moment, you realized it was pointless to keep running away. Stopping in your tracks, you let what you had been fleeing for so long catch up. At first, it terrified you, preparing to be hit by a massive wave of remorse, but instead, the serene breeze of the love you felt for Pedri gently caressed you.

Tears welled up in your eyes before you even registered it. Elena hugged you silently and let you vent. The accumulation of sudden truths you’d faced in just a few hours was overwhelming. And although there was a certain bitterness on your tongue, what truly occupied your senses was the peace you felt from putting your head in order.

What had started as a simple sore throat had turned into a full-blown flu. Perhaps you were already starting to pay the price for your actions, but if this was the cost, you were willing to endure a hundred more colds.

«Excited to see you tonight»

Reading Pedri's message, you felt your last will to live slip through your fingers. You had thought you'd be cured before he arrived for his match against Atlético de Madrid, but your condition had remained practically the same. Eyes were still watering, you couldn't go more than five minutes without your nose getting congested, the fever persisted, and the body aches were unbearable.

«We'll have to leave it for another day, I'm sick»

«You're sick? Why didn't you tell me?»

«I thought I'd be better before you came, I didn't want to bother you with this. But I’m not, and I don't want to infect you»

«It's no bother, you know that. And if you haven't infected Jude, you're not going to infect me»

«Jude has been staying in a hotel to take care of himself»

«And who's been taking care of you?»

«I have»

«I'm coming»

Feeling too weak from the illness, you agreed. Always on the condition that he wear a mask because you couldn't forgive yourself if you ended up making him sick. Checking the time, you settled in to sleep a little longer before his match started so you could get things ready before he arrived.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The vibration of your phone jolted you out of your deep sleep.

"Hello?"

"God, you sound terrible. I was calling to let you know I'm on my way. You weren't answering my messages and I got worried".

Confused, you glanced back at the clock and realized you'd slept longer than planned.

"Sorry, I fell asleep... I didn't even watch your game", you apologized.

"I'm the one who should apologize for waking you up".

Promising he'd be there soon, Pedri hung up. With what little energy you'd managed to muster from knowing you'd see Pedri soon, you got up to freshen up.

A knock on the door made your heart skip a beat, and you went to open it. Pedri smiled when he saw you and wrapped his arms around you. His warmth familiar and deeply missed.

“Pedri, let go of me, I’m going to infect you!” you squealed, laughing.

“It’s just a cold, I’m not going to die from it”.

“You could”.

“It would be worth it”.

Besides his suitcase, he had a bag with several things that piqued your curiosity.

“I brought you medicine, tissues, teas, and mints. Are you hungry? I also brought chicken soup”, Pedri listed, taking the items out and placing them on the kitchen counter.

Before you could answer, your stomach growled, because maybe you had been feeling so awful that even ordering takeout felt like a Herculean task.

“I’ll help you boil it”, you replied, taking the container the broth was packaged in.

“No. You go lay down and I’ll take care of this”, Pedri ordered, taking it from you. “I know how to use a stove; this isn’t my first rodeo”.

The exhaustion clouding your mind prevented you from offering a response, so you obeyed and headed to the living room. But not before grabbing one of the boxes of tissues.

Pedri watched with a smile as you walked away, giving him one last look before collapsing onto the sofa. He quickly started heating the chicken soup, taking in the feeling of your home.

Nothing in that house screamed "you". Everything was so plain: gray walls, minimal decoration, Bellingham's trophies and awards were all that occupied the shelves scattered around the place. It seemed a sterile setting compared to all the life you exuded.

He saw the discarded medicine boxes next to a first-aid kit: aspirin for headaches and common painkillers. It wasn't surprising you were still sick, but he didn't blame you. Seeing that you barely had the strength to walk, someone should have been taking care of you during this time.

The simmering soup perfectly reflected how his blood felt inside. The weeks he had spent with you, however fleeting and secretive, had filled him in an almost overwhelming way. Annoyed that Bellingham was wasting the privilege of being with you, Pedri poured it into a bowl. Grabbing the medicine bag and a glass of water, he headed to the living room, where he found you half asleep watching a TV show.

“That smells delicious”, you noted, sitting up at the aroma of the soup.

Pedri handed it to you and settled down to massage your feet.

“I’m warning you, if you start doing that, you’ll be doing it for hours”, you smiled at his gesture.

“You’re a very pompous patient”, he cooed, seeing you about to say something, most likely an apology, he added. “I like it”.

“It’s not fair to challenge me when I’m too sick to form coherent answers”, you replied before starting to eat.

Between the warmth of the soup and the relief of Pedri’s hands on your feet, you felt that perhaps there was a way out of this cold that wasn’t so difficult. Pedri’s soothing voice told you about his game, which they had won, and other details he had reserved for your face-to-face conversations.

With your defenses already down, you settled in to appreciate him. The way he laughed at his own jokes was adorable; you noticed the grimace he made when he tried to remember something, rummaging through his memory, and how his voice rose when he spoke of something that excited him—all while his hands eased the pain that tormented your feet.

“How long ago did you take your last pill?”

Not sure, because the hours had become jumbled together, you shrugged with an innocent smile.

“Well, I brought you these, which are for a sore throat; you take them every eight hours. These are for the flu in general, one during the day and one at night. I also bought you some ointment to help with your nasal congestion…”

Even though Pedri was sitting across from you, blister packs in hand, reading the instructions for each one, the situation felt very surreal. For the first time in a long time, you noticed you felt comfortable not having everything under your control. At least for now, there was someone else you could confidently hand it over to.

Pedri brought you water and gave you the medicine. He adjusted your pillow and brought another blanket when the cold intensified. He continued massaging your calves, which helped ease the discomfort that had built up. You were finally able to breathe normally again when he rubbed the ointment on your chest.

The nighttime flu pill took effect, and although you tried to resist, sleep overtook you. You stopped fighting it, and half asleep, Pedri helped you to your room.

“The guest room is at the end of the hall”, you indicated as he tucked you into bed.

“Thank you”, he smiled shyly.

As he left to get you some ginger tea with honey, your dizzy mind wandered to the possibility of sleeping with Pedri in the bed you shared with Jude. After all, the original plan was to meet at a hotel in Madrid, even though Jude was in Elche for his match. Were you playing it safe because you still cared about someone who did nothing but hurt you?

The mere thought sent a wave of vertigo tumbling down your neck. You were too sick to unravel that now. Besides, Pedri had just walked in with your tea and a proud smile, and there was nothing else you wanted to think about.

“Anything else you need?” he asked, placing the mug on the nightstand.

“You’ve done so much for today, thank you”.

Pedri moved closer to your face, but you dodged him when you realized he was going for your lips.

“Not even a quick one? At least for all my effort”, he pouted.

“So that’s why you took care of me? So a sick girl could kiss you? You’re such a masochist”, you joked. Even though he tried to hide it, you saw a hint of sadness appear in his eyes. “I just… I’d really hate myself if you got sick in a week”, you murmured softly.

Pedri moved closer to your face again. You didn’t move, but this time he changed course and placed his lips on your forehead.

“You’re right. Have a good night”, he said, pulling away with a kind smile.

“Rest well, Pedri”, you replied, watching him go through your bedroom door.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The sun didn't tear at your mind; your lungs were finally getting air. Your eyelids didn't feel so heavy when you opened them. You sat up in bed, feeling relieved for the first time in three days. Who would have thought that all you needed was to make an effort to get better?

Only two messages from Jude had come in, both from yesterday.

«I've landed. Get well soon, my love.

How are you feeling?»

You wrote a short reply saying you were feeling better and wishing him luck in his game later that day. You were surprised to see it was 10 a.m., a little later than you usually got up.

Getting up, you picked up the empty teacup, which had helped you wake up with a less sore throat. You went to the guest room and knocked lightly on the door.

“Good morning beautiful, you look much better”, Pedri greeted you.

You found the sight utterly charming. His hair freshly woken up, his hands rubbing his eyes.

“Nice pajamas”, you remarked with an amused smile.

“Oh yes, you’re definitely feeling better”, he sighed.

“Thanks to you. Did I wake you up or were you already awake?”

“I was just waking up when I heard you knocking. Want some breakfast?”

With a smile, you nodded and led him to the kitchen. After breakfast, he reminded you to take your prescribed medication. The rest of the day passed peacefully; you watched a couple of movies in the living room, and despite promising you wouldn't, you fell asleep during both. You woke up occasionally to Pedri's hand gently stroking your head.

“This is my studio. I spend most of my time here”, you presented shyly.

Pedri entered the room, a look of wonder in his eyes as he took in every detail: the framed photographs, the eccentric decorations adorning the walls, the splashes of color in every corner. Now, something that truly represented you, Pedri thought. A welcoming and cozy atmosphere. So different from the rest of the house.

“Do these work?” he asked, amazed, pointing to your small collection of film cameras.

“Yes, although this one…” you explained, picking one up. “It takes pictures with a strange glare because the light leaks in. Even so, I like it”.

You proceeded to show him your collection of photographs. You could see the fascination in Pedri’s eyes as he appreciated your work and explanation of each one.

“Can I keep this one?” he asked, reaching a set of self-portraits from an old school assignment.

Biting your lower lip, you blushed at the question. Remembering how you had tried to convince Jude to carry one in his wallet, only for him to reply, “I change them a lot; I’d lose it in no time”.

“It’s really old”, you said, looking at it closely. Your eyes were less tired, and you believed the smile on your lips. You took it before you met Jude.

“Until you get me a newer one, then”.

“There are several photos of me on social media, you know?”

“But none like this, please”, he pleaded sweetly.

Unable to resist his charming smile, you accepted. “Deal”.

Even though Jude wouldn't be back until the next day, you didn't want to risk anything unexpected. And even though this had been the longest you'd ever spent together, it felt incredibly short when you opened the door for Pedri to leave.

"You really have no idea how much you helped me. I owe you one", you said gratefully, burying your face in his chest.

"I thought you didn't like keeping track of things", he teased.

There, on the landing by the door, it seemed wrong that Pedri had to leave. You wished he would stay, that he would be the one to come home after a long day… You stopped the train of thought before it went off the rails any further. No, you couldn't wish for that kind of thing, you didn't deserve it.

“Let me know when you get home”, you cleared your throat, pulling away from him.

With his hand still on your back, Pedri pulled you close and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

“Of course, and you keep me updated on how you're doing, okay?” he winked with a proud smile.

Watching him leave, you had to restrain your hands, which were about to leap out, once again to hold him back.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆♡⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

“Where’s your necklace?” Jude asked, hugging you from behind.

“I sent it to be polished, but it’s a pretty time-consuming process”, you lied, taking the drink he offered you.

The pout he gave you, combined with his sorrowful eyes, almost made you feel bad… almost. You stopped wearing it every day when he finally came back to the house once you’d fully recovered, not thanks to him. Over time, you realized it was just another object; that constant, instinctive need to reach for it every morning was gone.

“If it’s already worn out, I should give you another one then. A better one”, he suggested, squeezing your waist and pulling you closer. 

“It’s not necessary, I like that one”, you replied, turning your gaze back to the view in front, trying to hide the displeasure that his nearness caused you.

Luckily, at that moment, people’s attention shifted back to the racetrack. The F1 drivers sped past one by one under the grandstand. That seemed enough to push the topic back into the back of Jude’s mind. His eyes followed the action in front of him, turning to Franco and Gonzalo to comment later.

Taking advantage of his distraction, you pulled out your phone to check the pending messages.

«You look divine in that dress.

That color suits you so well»

Smiling to yourself, you slowly raised your head, pretending to be looking through the decorations, and searched for Pedri. You found him laughing with his friends across the box.

This time his presence wasn't a surprise, however, despite knowing you would be at the same event, planning a quick getaway wasn't possible. Jude had organized a pretty tight itinerary for the three days in Monaco, and you couldn't find an opening.

«And you look quite handsome in that linen shirt»

Pedri reached for his phone to read your reply. His eyes sparkled and a smile spread across his face. He looked up and for a moment your gazes met. The electrifying feeling only intensified when he winked at you before going back to typing on his phone.

«I imagined you'd like it, that's why I chose it»

With flushed cheeks, you turned your gaze back to the racetrack and took a sip of your drink to cool down.

“Franco and I are going to check out some stands at the track. Will you wait for me here?” Jude announced.

“Sure”, you replied. When Jude tried to kiss you on the lips, you turned slightly, and his kiss landed on your cheek. With a hurt look, he walked away with Franco.

“Are you enjoying the Grand Prix? Have you managed to take any pictures?” Gonzalo asked after a few seconds of awkward silence. It seemed that whenever there was a tense moment with Jude, he was always caught in the crossfire, but you still appreciated his attempts to defuse the situation.

“It’s hard not to with such beautiful scenery”, you commented, gesturing to the view. “And you? Jude told me it’s your first time here”.

“I’d never been interested in coming, and to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be back. This definitely isn’t for me…” he confessed with a nervous laugh.

“I thought I saw you in the distance, and it seemed rude not to come and say hello”, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Pedri! It’s great to see you”, Gonzalo greeted.

Suppressing your excitement and feigning as much disinterest as possible, you turned to face the person you’d been exchanging secret glances and furtive smiles with all morning. Pedri was finishing hugging Gonzalo when he looked at you. You could feel the intensity in his gaze, something that ignited a fire within you.

“Did you already know each other?” Gonzalo asked, pulling you out of your trance.

“Only by name”, you shrugged, taking another sip to hide your smile.

“Indeed”, Pedri emphasized, letting his gaze linger on you.

With Gonzalo in between, you resumed the conversation. Praying that no one else could sense the tension that was so palpable to you. Pedri wanted to play a very dangerous game in broad daylight, so you wanted to see how far he was willing to go.

“Gonzalo was telling me he finds all this really boring. What do you think, Pedri?” you asked, tilting your head and fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously.

He seemed to catch his breath because it took him a few seconds to answer, his blush already spreading to his ears. “I-I think it’s a respectable opinion. At least you dared to come once”.

As Gonzalo answered, you noticed Pedri starting to flinch under your gaze. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to keep his eyes off you, leaving sentences unfinished, and laughing nervously “for no apparent reason”. 

You continued to tease him, bringing your hand close enough to be mere millimeters from touching his, only to pull it back instantly. You even played with your hair and bit your lip every time he spoke.

“It’s getting warmer, don’t you think?” Pedri cleared his throat, fanning himself with his shirt. This caused part of his tanned chest to be visible between the first few unbuttoned buttons.

You nodded almost automatically, eyes fixed on his attractive collarbones. Snapping out by the excited shouts of the crowd, you met Pedri's hungry gaze. Cars began to drive by again, and everyone returned to crowd around the balcony to watch them.

Gonzalo followed the others, which gave Pedri the opportunity to slip a piece of paper into your hand. Clutching it, you quickly hid it behind your back.

“I still don’t understand the excitement”, Gonzalo sighed, returning to his original position.

“Sometimes you have to make things exciting”, Pedri said, turning to you and adding, “Don’t you think?”

“Definitely”, you replied with a demure smile.

“I just remembered I have something to do inside, on the second floor. See you later”, Pedri said, taking his leave.

“I’ll go get something to eat. Can I get you anything?” Gonzalo asked.

“No, I’m fine. Thanks”.

Once Gonzalo was far enough away, you checked the sheet of paper Pedri had given you. Unfolding it, you found the event map, marking the different booths, restaurants, and amenities available in the building. Remembering what Pedri had said, you looked for any sign on the second floor. A closet had been circled in red pen.

With your heart racing, and seeing that no one around was paying much attention, you made your way to where the map indicated. At every corner, afraid to run into Jude or someone who would distract you from your goal, but luckily, the path was clear.

The closet was in a deserted area. There were armchairs where some groups were sitting, but compared to other sectors, it was much quieter.

Backing up until your back touched the surface of the door, you found the handle. With one last glance, to make sure no one was watching, you stepped inside. A pair of arms wrapped around you instantly, and recognizing the lips that kissed you, you melted into them.

“Were you trying to give me a heart attack, or why were you acting like that?” Pedri exhaled, still holding your back.

The closet was a bit larger than you had imagined. It had enough space for both of you to, if you had wanted, talk with space in between. A small spotlight dimly illuminated the space.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, you hummed, feigning ignorance.

In response, Pedri kissed you again, his hands tracing eagerly down your back until they reached above your ass. The heat in the room was growing stronger, as was your desire for him.

“Besides… you started it”, you pointed out.

“I just wanted to be close to you, but you… you and your dress, your hands, your gaze”, he murmured, running a thumb over your lips.

“What gaze?” you asked, tilting your head and raising your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes as you had done before.

“If you see me like this again, I can’t promise I’ll behave”, Pedri warned, his breath ragged.

“Like what?” you tilted your head to the other side, mimicking his gesture.

With that movement, the thread that held Pedri’s composure seemed to snap. With a ferocious look, he captured your lips again in a hungry kiss. Sensing his desperation, you took pity on him for having upset him like that, so with that in mind, you lowered your hands to unbutton his pants.

Moving your lips down to his neck, you kissed that soft spot you loved so much. Then, you knelt before him, looking up, you were met with a look of excitement on his face. One of his hands found your head, positioning itself behind it. His eyes followed as you hooked your fingers under his waistband, pulling down his pants and boxers, freeing his painfully hard cock in front of you.

With ardent urgency, Pedri's fingers tangled in your hair. You leaned forward, wrapping your tongue around the tip of his cock and sucking gently.

Pedri's body trembled, and he fell back, hitting a shelf and causing some things to fall.

You continued taking him slowly. Pedri gasped in a way you'd never heard him gasp before, his hips thrusting forward, pushing himself deeper into your throat. Focusing on not gagging, you held your position and looked at him again through your eyelashes. Pedri's eyes shone with desire, his face flushed, lips parted in a grimace as if pleasure almost hurt him.

With your tongue, you traced the lower part of his shaft, reaching the tip and pulling it almost completely out before taking it back in. You sucked deeply, his hands gripping your hair, and you moaned, instinctively squeezing your thighs together, aching.

"You take it so well, baby", he praised softly. “You’re so fucking hot”.

You kept working, maintaining eye contact with Pedri, who occasionally broke it by throwing his head back, eyes closed, neck tense, throat bouncing. His scent and taste were intoxicating, savoring each thrust with a growing need.

"Wait—wait, no—not yet", Pedri gasped, pulling back. "I want all of you".

With his hand tangled in your hair, he lifted your head and guided you to your feet. With another impatient kiss, he pushed you up against the shelf. Breaking the kiss, he turned you around and buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. Then he moved to the back of your neck, kissing it passionately. Pedri searched his pockets for the condom and slid it onto his cock.

“Always so prepared”, you teased, turning your head to look at him.

“And always for you”, he growled.

One of his hands moved to lift your dress, finding your thighs, where he tentatively touched until he reached your soaked panties. You trembled at the sensation of his fingers circling above it, lowering yourself to increase the contact.

“Someone’s eager”, he murmured against your ear as he inserted one finger, sliding it over your folds.

“Oh Go—!” your moan was cut short by Pedri’s hand on your lips.

“We have to be quiet, gorgeous, or someone will hear”, he purred, pushing your panties aside.

Pedri positioned himself at the entrance of your throbbing pussy and slid in with ease. Knowing the occasion wasn’t one for taking his time, his thrusts were erratic, always trying not to make too much noise in case someone was nearby. His hand continued to stifle the moans of pleasure that escaped you from the delightful sensation.

The hand that had been holding your hip moved up to reach your breasts, lowering your neckline so that one breast spilled over, cupping it between his fingers. Intensifying the pleasure you felt with each thrust.

“You sucked me so well, beautiful, you have spectacular lips”, Pedri growled in your ear. His hot breath and raspy voice sent waves of arousal through your body, making you grip the shelf you were holding onto even tighter.

Needing to feel him even more, you reached behind you and cupped the back of his neck. You turned your head slightly, giving Pedri the opportunity to kiss you, his lips now muffling your cries of pleasure. His free hand released your other breast from your bra and teased your nipple.

Between the pent-up craving you'd had all morning, the playful teasing when he approached, and the thrill of doing something so forbidden in such a dangerous place, your orgasm was built. Its release came from the sheer pleasure of Pedri's attention to different parts of your body.

Pedri, sensing the familiar tremor of your ecstasy, returned his firm hand to your lips. Just in time to stifle the cry of pleasure you let out when you felt the violent flash of your orgasm rippled through your body. Almost simultaneously, Pedri buried his lips in your shoulder, also muffling the groan that announced his release.

Afterwards, the only sounds were your heavy breaths. Withdrawing from you, Pedri gently cupped your face in his hands and leaned in to kiss you softly. Parting, you both smiled with satisfied complicity.

“We should go back, or someone will notice we’re missing”, you whispered, despite your true desire to stay in that closet.

“You’re right”, he murmured with a half-smile.

Carefully, trying not to make too much noise, you adjusted your dress while Pedri fixed his pants.

You chuckled softly when you saw that Pedri wasn't in much better shape either; your lipstick was smeared across his face and neck. His shirt was wrinkled and his hair was a mess. You approached him, and licking your finger, began to wipe away the lipstick stains.

Pedri watched you, lost in thought, almost stunned by the gesture. He snapped out of it when you stepped back to see if the stains were less noticeable.

“I brought you something”, he announced, searching his pockets.

The surprise only grew when you saw what he was holding: a roll of film for one of your cameras. Your eyes shone as you looked at him again and hugged him gratefully. He put his arm around your waist, tightening the embrace.

“I love it, thank you so much”, you gushed, gently taking the film.

“Anything to provoke that look”, Pedri smiled, caressing your cheek.

Peeking out the door, you checked that the coast was clear, and with a final smile, you left the closet. Walking quickly into the nearest bathroom to brush your teeth, reapply your makeup, and fix your tangled hair.

Feeling more collected, you returned to the box where you had originally been sitting, Jude waiting with a sour expression.

“Oh, there’s my bag”, you said, approaching the table.

“Where the hell were you? I told you to wait here”, he complained quietly.

“I wanted to go buy something, but I realized I didn’t have my bag, so I came back upstairs”, you explained calmly, discreetly slipping the roll of film inside.

“You should have told me. I come back and realize you’re not here”, he blurted out, sounding worried. “Also… I heard you were talking to Pedri. What about that?”

“Oh, really?” you pretended to think, suddenly remembering something. “Yeah, I think he went over to talk to Gonzalo, but I was so focused on taking pictures that I didn’t notice. You know how it is, people always assume the worst, right?”

The answer seemed to leave Jude speechless. Without waiting for another outburst, you sat down and looked at the menu. Jude slumped down next to you, his back to you. Until suddenly he wrapped you in his arms and, giving you a kiss on the temple, announced that Pedri had re-entered the premises.