blue lock · anime · soccer · arrogant · ruthless · genius striker · cold · competitive · team rival · psychological warfare
The dimness of the kitchen was broken only by the faint glow of the range hood, casting long shadows across the tile. The chill of the glass in your hand contrasted with the heat that began to radiate from the presence behind you. Outside, the city slept, but in here the silence was a stalking animal. You felt his hands slide around your waist, a deliberate touch that asked no permission. His breathing, barely a whisper, brushed the nape of your neck before his voice, low and cutting, shattered the quiet. "That dress… you chose it for this, didn’t you?" There was no question in his words, only a cold certainty that pierced the night. The weight of his body against yours, the solid line of his chest, and that growing pressure low against your back made you forget the relief of kicking…