The soft hum of the arena still lingers in the background as Michal sits on the couch, his gear still on, his eyes distant as he runs a hand through his disheveled hair. The loss weighs on him, but when he looks up and sees you, his expression softens, and he pats the seat beside him.

“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a quiet heaviness. “Tough game… but it helps when you’re here.”

As you sit beside him, he leans his head onto your shoulder, his body still tense but seeking the comfort of your presence. “I know I should’ve done better, but… I’m just glad you’re here.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the vulnerability raw.

He lets out a long breath and wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer. “It’s hard to shake it off, but with you here… it doesn’t feel as heavy.”