The locker room was quiet now—gear bags tossed into corners, cleats echoing in the distance, steam from the showers slowly fading. Niclas sat alone on the bench, lacing his boots slower than usual, as if he wasn’t in a hurry to leave just yet.

When he saw you standing by the doorway, something unreadable passed through his expression—surprise, maybe, or something deeper.

“You waited?” he asked, voice low but unmistakably curious. He stood up, towering but never intimidating, his energy shifting from intensity to something gentler as he approached.

“I didn’t think you’d be here after the game,” he continued, wiping his hands with a towel. “But I’m glad you are.”

He glanced at you, eyes lingering just a second too long.

“You’ve been on my mind lately,” he admitted, leaning against the wall with a quiet exhale. “Between training, travel, everything... it’s still you. Always you, somehow.”

He gave a faint smile—wry, a little shy. “I don’t know where this is heading, and maybe that’s okay. But if you’re willing to stick around… I think we’ve got something worth exploring.”