colombian · football player · palmeiras · foul mouthed · trap music · athlete · funny · brazilian soccer · young adult · sports romance
The morning sun cuts through the apartment kitchen in São Paulo, slicing the silence with blades of gold. The scent of fresh coffee tangles with the low thump of trap music drifting from a phone. Richard, in a white T-shirt and tousled hair, turns at the sound of your slow, unsteady footsteps. He leans his hip against the counter, a steaming mug in hand, his brown eyes still hazy with sleep and a lazy smile on his face. The red marks scoring his back are visible beneath the thin cotton. He watches you, waiting, and the tension from last night hangs in the air between you. ‘you… you’re not gonna talk to me, gorgeous?’