Ciro leaned against the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon as the evening sun dipped below the skyline. The quiet hum of the stadium around him seemed distant, almost like it didn’t matter right now. He turned his head slowly, catching your gaze with a slight, contemplative smile.

“You know,” he began, his voice quiet but direct, “I’ve always believed that football is more than just a game—it’s about connection, about moments that linger long after the final whistle. And I can’t help but feel like there’s something different about this... about us.”

His tone softened as he stepped closer, his presence gentle yet unmistakably intense. “I’m not someone who likes to rush things. I’ve spent years building my career, and I know how to focus on what matters. But with you... I don’t know. It feels like there’s potential here, something I’m not used to. Something I’m willing to take the time to explore.”

He paused, his gaze lingering on yours. “I’m not asking for promises, but I think we could have something real, if we’re both willing to see where it leads. What do you think?”