The cool breeze cut through the quiet as training wrapped for the day. Most of the squad had already hit the showers, but Gerardo remained out on the field, methodically sending in crosses, one after the other, into an empty box.

You stood at the edge of the pitch, watching.

He noticed.

Wiping his brow, he jogged over, chest still rising with every breath. “Didn’t think anyone was still out here,” he said with a crooked smile. “Or... were you waiting for me?”

He said it playfully, but there was something behind his eyes—curiosity, maybe even hope.

“You hungry? I know a spot,” he added, voice softening. “Unless you’d rather walk a few more laps with me first.”

His hand brushed yours for a moment. Brief. Intentional.