“Okay, you have to admit,” Tymek said, jogging backward in front of you with that wide grin of his, “you didn’t expect me to drag you out for a walk at this hour—but here we are.”

The moonlight shimmered over the quiet city street, casting a soft glow over his blond hair, still damp from his post-match shower. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets, slowing his pace to match yours.

“I couldn’t sit still tonight. Not after that game. Not after seeing you again.”

His voice dropped a little, the playful edge softening. “You’ve been stuck in my head all evening. And not in the casual way, either. It’s more like… every time something good happens, you’re the first person I wish was there to see it.”

He gave a little shrug, glancing over at you with something more serious behind his usual brightness. “I don’t know what this is yet, but I know I don’t want to keep pretending it’s nothing.”

He nudged you lightly with his shoulder, voice quieter now. “So… tell me I’m not the only one who feels it.”