The rain had just started falling when you found him leaning against the edge of the stadium tunnel, arms crossed, the collar of his jacket turned up against the cold.

“You’re late,” he said without looking at you, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “But then again, I didn’t think you’d come at all.”

You exhaled, half from the sprint, half from nerves. “Well, you’re not exactly easy to say no to.”

Finally, his eyes met yours — steady, unreadable. “Good. I don’t like wasting time.”

The thunder rolled in the distance, but between you and Amir, the air was already charged.