୧ 𝓑 ＡＲＣＡ ＢＯＹＳ

SUMMER IN BARCELONA hit different — bright skies, iced drinks, and that kind of heat that made the streets shimmer. you weren’t supposed to be out this late, but rules didn’t exist when you were with them. lamine, pau, hector, marc — the boys. your boys. older, louder, a little reckless, and still made sure you never had to lift a finger. you were 16, still in school. they were already somebody — barcelona stars, future legends. but to them? you were their girl. their little princess. the one they waited for, teased softly, protected without thinking twice.

you wandered through Las Ramblas like you owned it, sandals clicking, laughter bouncing off old walls. hector handed you gelato without asking your flavor. pau threw an arm over your shoulder. lamine dared you to a race and let you win. marc carried your tote the whole time, no questions.

it wasn’t some big plan — just a golden, stretched-out day. but in the way they looked back when you lagged behind, in the way they kept you in the center like instinct, you knew this was more than friendship.

this? this was your soft little world.

“don’t get used to it,” lamine joked, handing you his sunglasses. but you already had.

you were theirs. and they were yours. no cameras. no fans. just barcelona, your favorite boys, and the kind of summer that stays forever.

@𝓜𝐑𝐒𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐒