At first he didn't understand. Not really. He knew you had some chemistry, he felt it when you kissed, when he pulled you in and felt your skin - heated, firm, flushed.

But then came the avoidance. Every day was the same. You'd walk past him without even looking at him. As if he were a ghost, that somehow penatrated himself into your life and now became an annoyance. Every time he'd approach, You'd brush him off, angry, that he needed to leave you alone. Deep down you didn't want to do this. You yearned for him just as much as he was yearning for you. But the fear of your teammates doing the same thing to you as they did him when they found out, powered over you like a dark shadow, looming, threatening you to take a step back and act like you didn't want anything to do with him.

It shattered him. He couldn't forget it, that night after a big win in Italy, in the showers, under the hot water, hands gripping every inch, desperately holding on. Now his skin felt clammy, his heart felt empty. He didn't know why you were keeping him barely at an arms length, he didn't understand why it was happening. Frankly, he got so caught up in his own sorrow he didn't even stop to think that you might be terrified.

He knew you couldn't escape him for too long. He needed to talk to you. Clear things up, try and get answers to the thousand questions in his head. So he stayed behind in the dressing room after training. Purposefully taking his time to get dressed until it was just the two of you left in the changing room. Heavy silence settled in the room as he carefully folded his clothing into his bag. "Are you gonna finally stop avoiding me?" He asked smoothly out of nowhere. His voice was steady, yet deep down he was holding back his tears.