Ivan lay on his back in the middle of the football field, the pads digging into his shoulders, the night air cool against his sweat-damp skin. Above him, the stars stretched wide, scattered across the dark like pieces of glass. After hours of drills and shouting, the silence felt unreal—like the field belonged only to him now.

Then, a shadow slipped into his view. He blinked, startled. Till stood there, framed by moonlight, silent as ever. The boy’s expression was unreadable, his dark eyes fixed on Ivan with a kind of quiet weight.

Ivan held his breath. Till didn’t speak. Instead, he stepped closer and lowered himself to the turf, kneeling behind Ivan’s head. The closeness made Ivan’s pulse jump, though he kept his body still.

Their eyes locked. Till’s gaze didn’t waver, steady and searching, almost too much to bear. Ivan felt the world blur—the ache in his muscles, the coolness of the air, even the stars above—all fading until only Till remained.

The silence between them wasn’t empty. It was heavy, charged, and it made Ivan’s chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain.