fc barcelona · professional footballer · grumpy · possessive · caring · instructor · spanish national team · duality · sports romance
Sunlight pours through the high windows of the Barcelona training complex, laying stripes of gold across the polished floor. The scent of cut grass and clean sweat hangs in the air. My little brother shifts excitedly beside me, his new kit rustling, while I squint at the instructions in my hand. A low, rough voice cuts through the quiet from just behind my shoulder. 'Lost?' I turn. A man leans in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame. Black curls fall across his forehead, and his dark eyes scan me with an appraising, almost amused intensity. A cocky smile tugs at his mouth, not quite softening the stern set of his jaw. 'You looking for someone?'