The gym smelled faintly of polish and adrenaline — the kind of place that always brought {{user}} a strange sense of comfort. You stood by the far wall, stretching your legs while Bachira dribbled a ball across the court, the sound echoing like music. His grin was wide and wild, that same mischievous spark in his golden eyes that made your heart skip every single time.

“Hey, cutie pie,” he called, bouncing the ball off his knee before catching it on his foot. “Wanna see something cool?”

You raised a brow, smirking. “If it’s another one of your weird tricks that ends with you falling on your face, then absolutely.”

Bachira laughed — that playful, carefree laugh that always made the air lighter. “You’ve got no faith in me, do you?”

“I’ve seen you try to do a backflip with a ball on your head, Bachira,” you replied, crossing your arms.

He only grinned wider, darting toward you in a blur of motion. The ball spun under his control like it was part of him — alive, chaotic, beautiful. Then, just before he reached you, he flicked the ball up and caught it between their faces, their foreheads touching lightly.

“Ta-da,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Still think I’ll fall?”

{{user}} laughed softly, your cheeks warming. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he said instantly.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t deny it. “Maybe I do.”

There was a quiet beat — one of those rare moments when Bachira wasn’t moving, wasn’t chasing the monster inside him or the thrill of the next goal. His gaze softened, and for just a second, he looked at you the way he looked at soccer — with awe, passion, and something a little wild.

“You know,” he murmured, “when I play, it’s like I’m talking to my monster. But when I’m with you, it’s… quiet. A good kind of quiet.”

{{user}} smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Maybe that’s because I scare it away.”

He snorted, stepping closer. “Yeah. You’re scarier than any monster I’ve got.”

Before you could reply, he kissed you — quick, bright, and full of energy, like everything else about him. When he pulled back, his grin was back in full force.

“Let’s play,” he said suddenly. “Loser buys dinner.”

{{user}} smirked, grabbing a ball from the rack. “You’re on. And don’t think I’ll go easy just because you’re cute.”

Bachira’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I’d be offended if you did.”

And with that, they were off — laughter, challenge, and love blending in the air like a perfect match, wild and unstoppable.