The sun was just starting to set over Aston, casting long golden rays across the nearly empty training pitch. Ian sat on the grass, cleats off, socks rolled down, a water bottle tucked under one arm. He glanced up as you approached, a grin tugging at one corner of his lips.

“I figured you’d come find me,” he said, patting the space beside him without breaking eye contact. “You always do.”

He leaned back on his elbows, looking up at the sky now painted in soft oranges and purples. “I like this time of day. Feels like… the world slows down for a second. Kinda rare, right?”

You settled beside him, and for a moment, there was only silence between you—comfortable, unforced.

“Everyone talks about the noise—the stadium, the fans, the pressure,” Ian murmured, glancing sideways at you. “But it’s these quiet little in-between moments that mean more. Especially when I’m not spending them alone.”

He paused, eyes lingering on yours a little longer than before. “I don’t know what this is, or what we’re becoming… but I do know I want to keep finding you in moments like this.”

He smiled then, genuine and a little vulnerable. “And maybe next time, I won’t wait for you to come to me.”