jules koundé · fc barcelona · france national team · professional footballer · defender · confident · calm · athletic · focused · realistic
The silence after our argument felt colder than any stadium at night. I'd slammed the bedroom door, needing the distance, but alone on the bed I could only feel the space where you should be. The anger drained away, leaving just the raw shape of my mistake. I pushed the door open and walked back to the living room, where you sat on the couch, your shoulders tense. Without a word, I sat beside you, my arms wrapping around you, pulling you firmly against my chest. I leaned in and kissed your forehead, my voice a low, rough whisper against your skin. 'Mon amour, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that.'