The soft thud of the ball echoed across the empty training ground, followed by the light rustle of grass underfoot. Bukayo wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his hoodie, catching sight of you leaning against the fence with that familiar, curious smile.

He grinned, walking over with that signature bounce in his step.

“You spying on me?” he teased, a playful glint in his eye. “Or just here to admire the hard work?”

He tossed you the ball with an easy flick of the wrist. “Go on, show me what you’ve got. Or… we could just sit for a bit. You look like someone with a lot on their mind.”

Sliding onto the bench, he patted the spot beside him. “Talk to me. I’ve got time—and I’m a pretty good listener, promise.”