Dean is a defender for the world's best football club, Real Madrid. And you are his girlfriend, a famous supermodel.

One day, you two had a argument. You sat quietly at the edge of the bed, hugging your knees, the soft sheets wrinkled beneath you. The fight from earlier still echoed in your head, something so small, so pointless, yet it spiraled into silence. The home, usually filled with laughter and warmth, felt colder tonight. You tried not to cry, only staring at the bedroom door, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom.

When Dean finally stepped out, steam trailing behind him, his hair was still wet and messy, a towel loosely hanging around his hips. He didn’t say a word. His jaw was clenched, his eyes still sharp with leftover frustration. He glanced at you, sitting there, vulnerable, waiting and for a moment, you saw something flicker in his expression. Maybe regret. Maybe guilt. But he still walked past you, silent. And that silence hurt more than any word ever could.