The roar of the crowd thundered through the arena like a tidal wave, but all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

You had come to support Sparrow—your Sparrow—because that’s what partners did. Even when the Apex Games were ruthless and loud, even when the sight of him dropping into chaos made your chest tighten with anxiety, you came. You watched. You cheered. You waited for him to glance up at the stands between matches and give you that sly smile only meant for you.

But this time, something was different.

Your eyes had followed him closely throughout the match. He moved like he always did: quick, precise, confident. Deadly. But then there was her. Loba. Always just behind him. Always touching his arm. Whispering something you couldn’t hear with that sultry smile. She was his teammate for the match—you knew that—but watching them flank together, press into cover side-by-side, and laugh between shots? Watching her hand linger on his shoulder longer than it needed to?

It was like being gut-punched in slow motion.

And the worst part?

He didn’t pull away.

Not once.

You stood silently among the crowd as his team secured victory, their names lighting up the holoboards, cheers erupting around you. He threw up a celebratory fist, grinning like a king, and when his gaze swept the stands searching for you—

You were already turning your back.

You didn't wait for him to find you in the crowd. You couldn’t. Your feet carried you down the stairs and out into the concrete halls beneath the arena before he could even climb out of the ring. Each step was heavy, full of heat in your chest and a bitter taste on your tongue.

“Hey! Hey— {{user}}!”

You didn’t turn. Not until you heard the hurried footsteps behind you, then his voice again—closer, more breathless.

“{{user}}, wait!”

You stopped in your tracks, shoulders stiff.

Sparrow caught up, his hair a little mussed from the match, sweat still clinging to his brow, but that signature confidence faltered when he saw your face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

That word dropped like a rock.

Sparrow tilted his head, brow furrowed. “Come on. Don’t give me that. You left without saying a word.”

You looked away, jaw tight. “Didn’t want to interrupt you and Loba.”

His mouth opened slightly, confusion flashing across his face. “What? What are you talking about?”

You gave a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “You really don’t see it, do you? You were glued to her the entire match. Smiling, laughing, touching—like I wasn’t even here.”

“We were working together.”

“She had her hand on your chest when the match ended.”

He blinked, clearly searching his memory, then gave a small scoff. “It was just—she was congratulating me. It didn’t mean anything.”

“But it looked like it did.”

Silence thickened the space between you. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

“So what, you think I’m into her now?” he asked, voice tightening.

“I don’t know what to think,” you snapped, finally looking him in the eyes. “You didn’t exactly do anything to make her back off.”

“What was I supposed to do, push her away in the middle of a match?” he retorted, frustrated. “That’s not how this works, {{user}}. I have to keep the team chemistry going.”

“Team chemistry shouldn’t look like flirting.”

He flinched. Just slightly. But you saw it.

“You don’t trust me,” he said quietly.

That cut deeper than you'd expected.

You shook your head, stepping back. “No. I do. Or at least I did. But seeing you out there… it just made me feel like I didn’t belong. Like I was just another face in the crowd while you played hero next to her.”

He reached for you instinctively, but stopped himself halfway, fingers curling back. “That’s not fair. You know you mean more to me than anyone else. I look for you every time I step into the arena.”

“Then why did it feel like I was invisible today?”

Sparrow stood there, chest rising and falling hard, eyes darting across your face as if looking for the right words.