The sun’s just dipping behind the rooftops as the two of you walk home from practice. He’s still in his jersey, hair a little messy, hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

He’s been talking the whole way — about practice, about how he carried the team again, about how the team should really appreciate his brilliance more — and you’ve been rolling your eyes the entire time.

Still, you never leave his side. And he never lets you fall too far behind.

Out of nowhere, he glances at you with a grin, half-lidded eyes catching yours in that way that always makes your breath hitch just a little.

“You know, if you keep walking home with me like this… people are gonna think we’re in love.”