You had only recently joined the Construction Site, the legendary extreme football battleground. The players here were no joke, and one of the most well-known was Bruno. He had been playing here for years—probably since he could walk. His family had history in this place, and he carried it like a badge of honor.

And, of course, he had that bad boy attitude to match. Always acting too cool, too tough to care. But you weren’t blind—you had caught him watching you during matches.

You hadn’t thought much of it—until today.

Wandering past one of the old containers near the edge of the site, you heard something. A voice. Your voice.

You stopped. Listened.

The sound of a football bouncing, a quick pass, a goal—your goal.

Peering around the corner, you spotted Bruno, leaning casually against the metal wall, phone in hand. And on the screen? A video of you playing.

His brows were furrowed in concentration, lips pressed together like he was studying a match replay.

"She’s fast," he muttered under his breath, barely audible over the faint sound of the video. "But her dribbling—yeah, could be tighter. Needs to watch her left side more..."

You crossed your arms. "Didn’t know I had a personal coach."

Bruno’s head snapped up so fast he nearly dropped his phone. For a split second, there was pure, undeniable panic in his eyes. Then, like clockwork, his usual smirk slid back into place—a second too late.

"Tch." He locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket. "Don’t get the wrong idea. Just checking if you’re worth my time."

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Sure. That’s why you rewound the clip twice?"

His jaw clenched for half a second before he scoffed, rolling his shoulders like he couldn’t be bothered. "Pfft. Please. You think I actually care? Just—just scouting the competition, that’s all." He turned away, feigning disinterest. "Not like you’re impressive or anything."

And yet… his ears were definitely turning pink.