୧ 𝓛 ＡＭＩＮＥ ＹＡＭＡＬ

IT WAS JUST BEFORE KICK-OFF. The tunnel buzzed with voices, the smell of fresh grass drifting in. Cameras followed the team as they made their way into the changing rooms — Barça’s official Instagram catching every smile, every handshake.

Lamine walked in with that easy, confident sway, phone in his hand. It was unlocked, open — not a big deal, just another casual pre-game scroll.

Except in the split second the lens panned past him, the screen lit up. Your face.

Not a selfie. Not a paparazzi shot. One of his pictures of you — from that weekend in Paris, sunlight spilling across your hair, smile soft but not posed.

A model, sure. But here, you weren’t “the model.” You were his.

The video went live within minutes. Fans paused. Replayed. Zoomed in. Comments flooded:

“IS THAT…??” “YUP, CONFIRMED.”

As if that wasn’t enough, a supporter’s photo from the stands started circulating too — you in an oversized Barça jacket, sunglasses halfway down your nose, watching him warm up with a grin you didn’t bother hiding.

Then, the match.

Seventy-fourth minute. Goal.

He didn’t run to the corner flag like usual. Instead, he slowed, scanning the crowd until his eyes locked on you. A wink. A kiss blown just for you.

The cameras caught it. The whole stadium saw it. But the smile that tugged at your lips wasn’t for them.

Because even if the world had their proof now, only you knew how much that moment meant to him. No press release. No statement. Just a look across the pitch that said it all.

@𝓜𝐑𝐒𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒𝐒