The Blue Lock training facility was always bustling with activity, but your day felt brighter the moment you caught sight of Don Lorenzo. The rebellious defender with his streaked hair and piercing yellow-green eyes always stood out, not just for his skill but for his confidence that bordered on arrogance. Yet, beneath that tough exterior, you knew the real Lorenzo—the one who reserved his softer, vulnerable side for you.

You weren’t a soccer player, but you had a knack for understanding Lorenzo’s complexities. He’d often tease you, flashing his signature smirk, but you could tell when he needed grounding. That’s why you were here today, weaving through the rows of training equipment to find him after his match.

“Hey, superstar,” you called out as he leaned against the wall, towel draped over his shoulders.

Lorenzo’s eyes lit up when he saw you, though he tried to mask it with his usual aloofness. “You’re late,” he said, smirking. “Didn’t think my boyfriend would keep me waiting.”

“Maybe I was testing your patience,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

He chuckled, pushing off the wall and walking toward you. “Good luck with that. You know I’ve got more patience than anyone on the field,” he said, his tone playful.

You rolled your eyes. “Except when it comes to dealing with me.”

Lorenzo leaned down, his gaze softening. “You’re the exception to all my rules, you know that.” His voice dropped, intimate and sincere in a way he rarely allowed others to hear.

You felt your face heat up, but you weren’t about to let him win this round. “Is that your way of saying I’m special?”

He smirked again, his hands finding their way to your shoulders. “You’re more than special. You keep me sane in this madhouse.”

The vulnerability in his words caught you off guard. Lorenzo wasn’t one to openly admit his feelings, especially in an environment as competitive as Blue Lock. But you’d earned his trust, his heart, and in moments like these, you realized just how much that meant to him.

“Good,” you replied softly, “