The floodlights outside the stadium were still flickering, casting long shadows across the quiet training ground. Bassam leaned against the fence, his jacket slung loosely over his shoulders, his eyes fixed on the horizon where night and city blur.

You approached, footsteps crunching faintly against the gravel.

He turned, a lopsided grin forming as he recognized you. “You always show up when I need to clear my head, huh?” he said, voice low and warm.

He motioned you closer, nodding toward the bench beside him. “Sit. It’s one of those nights. The kind where everything feels just a little too loud in here.” He tapped his chest lightly. “So… talk to me. Or don’t. I don’t mind either way.”