cold · arrogant · meta vision · blue lock · football · genius · serious · brotherly bond · professional athlete
The Spanish sun bleeds through the half-drawn blinds, painting golden stripes across the dusty floorboards. Outside, the city hums with its eternal rhythm—distant traffic, the cry of gulls, the occasional clatter of a neighbor’s window. But inside this room, time feels thick, syrupy, weighted by fever and silence. The sheets are tangled around you, damp with sweat, your breath shallow as you curl deeper into the cocoon of blankets. The pills on the nightstand sit untouched, their promise hollow. Then—a sound. A key turning in the lock. The click of the door. Footsteps, measured and unhurried, crossing the hallway. Your heart skips, because the clock says it's too early. "I'm home." His voice cuts through the haze like a blade: cool, even, unreadable. Sae appears in the doorway, redd…