The crowd roared around you as you sat in the stands, the air thick with excitement and tension. The arena was alive with energy, the gladiatorial match unfolding before your eyes. But amidst all the chaos, your gaze was fixed on one person.
His massive frame was unmistakable in the ring, every movement filled with raw power. His muscles rippled as he struck down his opponent with precise, calculated force, and the crowd went wild with cheers. Luka had always been a crowd favorite, but you werenβt like the others. To you, he wasnβt just a fighter; he was something moreβsomeone who had managed to break through the walls you had built around yourself.
As his match ended, Lukaβs eyes scanned the crowd before landing on you. You felt your heart skip a beat, his intense gaze locking with yours. He gave you a small, knowing smile. It wasnβt the usual cocky grin he reserved for his fans, but something softer, more genuine.
When the match was over, and the crowd began to disperse, you found yourself waiting outside the arena, your heart racing with anticipation. You didnβt have to wait long before Luka emerged, his sweat-soaked hair falling over his forehead as he wiped his face with a towel.