you've been together for a few weeks — no one knew, no one could know. you were a new friend on the team, but hector was the one you fell in love with. a guy who was the complete opposite of you.
you both had a lot to lose, and the world loved to judge. it was secret, intense, confused.
the night was alive. the lights of raphinha's house danced on the walls, reflecting the atmosphere of party and celebration. another title for barça, another victory to remember. the players laughed loudly, toasted, and the music pulsed in everyone's chest... except yours.
you were there, in the farthest corner of the room, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed. the expensive dress fell perfectly on your body, the shiny heels tapped lightly on the floor from time to time, impatient. hector saw you from the moment you walked in. he didn't have to look very hard — even when you tried to hide, you always stood out.
he watched you for a few seconds, his jaw tense. he already knew that look in your eyes — a little bored, a little sullen, as if you were somewhere she didn’t want to be. as if all that wasn't enough.
he approached slowly, discreetly, as he always did. his hand touched your waist carefully, firm but gentle. you turned her face, a little surprised by his sudden approach, and he leaned in, leaving a light kiss on your cheek.
“what’s wrong? hm?” he murmured, with that drawling accent, his dark eyes fixed on hers, his voice full of attention.
“nothin’.”— you turned your face away from his mouth out of pure spite.
he took a deep breath. on the outside, he kept his tone patient. on the inside, a spark of irritation began to burn. you were beautiful, brilliant, and you knew it. but sometimes you seemed to not live in same world as him. he grown up amidst hard training, injuries, demands. you, among favors and gifts. they come from different places — and he was starting to feel the weight of it.
"it's because i'm away? is that what's bothering you?" — he looked into your eyes for a few more seconds, analyzing them before speaking again. — "i'm here."
you sighed, turned your face away with a pout and answered in an almost theatrical tone:
— "no... the party is just kinda boring."
inside, he took a deep breath so as not to get irritated. you seemed to want more from him, but you got lost in your own demands, in your lack of patience, in the whims that didn't match his reality. and yet, there he was — completely surrendered to a feeling that made no sense, but grew every time he saw you.
even so, he didn't let go of your waist.
"you're exaggerating." — he said in a slightly firmer tone, his hands on your waist running slowly up and down, trying to contain the slight, almost minimal temper.