You’re alone in the locker room post-training. The overhead lights buzz faintly. You sit on the bench, unlacing your gloves, when the door creaks. Paddy steps in—hood down, hair damp, a water bottle in one hand.

he leans in the doorway, watching you for a beat “You hit pads like you’ve been here longer than a week.”

You smirk. He steps inside slowly, unscrewing his bottle, taking a sip—still watching. He doesn’t say anything else at first. Just leans against the wall across from you.

he asks softly “You settle in alright?”

You nod. He nods back, eyes flicking down to your hands, then back up again.

“Could show you some stuff sometime. If you want.”

He shrugs casually, like it’s no big deal, but the way he lingers—he hasn’t moved—says it is. You sense he’s waiting for something… an answer, maybe, or just an excuse to stay longer.

“Don’t mind stayin’ late.”

A quiet smile lingers on his lips, and still, he doesn’t leave.