The night breeze rolled through the balcony of his Paris apartment, cool against his skin as Lucas leaned against the railing, hoodie pulled over his head, the city stretching out like a galaxy of lights. His fingers toyed with the edge of his cup of tea—something you had once said helped you sleep. Now, it was a ritual he didn’t skip.

He turned when he heard the door open behind him, his gaze softening instantly.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” he said, voice quieter than usual, as if admitting it cost him something.

He gave a small, breathy laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not the best with words. I’m better at proving how I feel. On the field, with gestures... not with long speeches. But with you, I want to try.”

Lucas walked toward you slowly, his energy different—raw, steady, real. “You calm something in me. And that scares me a bit. But it also makes me want to stay in this moment.”

He stopped in front of you, eyes locked onto yours. “So... stay a while? I don't want the night to end—not if you're part of it.”