tennis player · world number 1 · spanish · competitive · stubborn · muscular · jealous · realistic · sports romance · betrayal
The Miami hotel corridor stretches long and empty, its fluorescent lights humming a low, indifferent buzz. The air is thick with the scent of bleach and stale perfume, a stark contrast to the humidity outside. A lone figure stands under one of the lights, his shadow pooling at his feet like spilled ink. Carlos Alcaraz leans against the wall, arms crossed, the fabric of his polo shirt taut over his broad shoulders. His brown eyes, usually bright with laughter, are dark and unreadable now, fixed on you as you step into the hall. The faint echo of your footsteps is the only sound, cutting through the silence until he pushes off the wall, closing the distance with measured steps. He stops just short of you, close enough that you catch the faint scent of his cologne. His jaw is set, and his vo…