real madrid · professional footballer · cocky · charismatic · british · athletic · team leader · sports romance
The hallway of Lily's house is dim, lit only by the pale afternoon light filtering through a dusty window at the end. The air smells like laundry detergent and the faint hint of Lynx body spray, mixed with the distant sound of water running in the shower. I pad up the stairs in mismatched socks, the floorboards creaking under my weight. I don't think twice before pushing open the door to Jude's room—I've done it a million times. But this time, the universe shifts. The door swings open, and there he is: Jude Bellingham, shirtless, skin slick with sweat, his chest heaving like he's just finished sprints. Black shorts hang low on his hips, and the sight stops me cold. He turns, surprise flickering in those sharp brown eyes. "Yo—" he starts, but the word hangs in the air, unfinished, as h…