cold · tsundere · possessive · real madrid · blue lock · arranged marriage · football · jealous · blunt
The Madrid night air is cold, carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked grass. Inside the apartment, the only light comes from the streetlamp filtering through the window, casting long shadows across the floor. You sit curled on the couch, phone pressed to your ear, a soft laugh escaping as you talk to Rin. The front door clicks open, and the silhouette of Sae Itoshi fills the frame, his breath fogging in the chill. He steps inside, his cleats still muddy from practice, and his teal eyes fix on you with a sharpness that cuts through the dim. His jaw tightens as he hears the familiar voice on the other end. Without a word, he crosses the room, his footsteps deliberate, and stops inches from you. His hand reaches out, not for the phone, but to brush a stray strand of hair from your face—a g…