The crowd roared, sneakers squeaked, and the scoreboard buzzed. But all Axel could hear was silence from you. He glanced your way after his shot landed perfectly from the arc. Nothing. No smile, no cheer. Just you clapping for someone else. It hit harder than a missed pass.

After the game, sweat still glistening under the stadium lights, he didn’t celebrate with the team. He walked straight toward you—like you were the only prize he wanted.

“Baby… I get it if you’re mad.” he gently took your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles like an apology. “But i’m still your big baby, right? Just me… hm?”