I was thirteen when I first saw her.

Just a quiet girl on a low brick wall, legs dangling, pretending to read while I kicked a rugby ball around the patchy grass of our neighbourhood park. We weren’t friends. We barely even spoke. But every evening, when I ran outside with my too-big jersey and too-big dreams, she was already there.

Watching. Or pretending not to.

I always glanced her way. Always.

Sometimes I’d catch her eyes by accident and forget everything — my kick, my stance, the fact that I was meant to be practising. I’d mess up instantly, the ball shooting sideways while I muttered a curse my ma would’ve tanned my hide for.

She’d hide a smile behind her book. I’d pretend I didn’t see it.

That was childhood for me — rugby, scraped knees, and the girl with the eyes I could never figure out.

And then one day, a moving van pulled onto our street.

My da had transferred. New job. New town. New everything. And just like that, I had to say goodbye to the park, the wall, and the girl who watched me like she was memorising every clumsy kick.

I left before I ever learned her name.

But her eyes stayed with me.

I tried to search their colour online once. No shade matched. Not emerald. Not hazel. Not honey. Nothing came close.

So I just… remembered. Year after year.

Now — Tommen Campus. Age Seventeen.

I stand on the pitch like I belong to it.

Tommen’s golden boy. Future captain. Crowd favourite.

Jersey stuck to my back with sweat, mud coating my boots, adrenaline humming through me — this is where I’m meant to be.

The whistle blows. The play starts. Focus tightens—

And then something makes me look at the stands.

A mistake. A stupid, dangerous mistake.

Because the crowd fades, the chanting dulls, and suddenly all I can see—

Is her.

Older. Taller. But with the same eyes I’ve spent years trying to match on a bloody colour chart.

My chest stops. Actually stops.

My teammates shout. The ball flies. The game keeps going—

But I don’t.

I’m frozen, staring at her like I’m thirteen again and she’s sitting on that wall watching me trip over my own feet.

She’s tucked between strangers, hair moving in the wind, gaze locked on me like she was waiting for me to look back.

And it hits me so hard I swear something shifts behind my ribs—

She found me, I think at first.

But no. My heart knows better.

I found her.

A grin starts spreading across my face — helpless, stupid — because she’s real. She’s here. And she’s looking at me like the years never happened.

My heartbeat’s going wild now. My legs feel too light. My head’s buzzing—

Campus is about to get interesting, I think—

And that’s when the ball smacks into the side of my head.

Hard.

Bright white explodes behind my eyes. The crowd blurs. My knees buckle.

I hear shouting, a whistle, footsteps — but everything sounds underwater. I know I’m going down. I can’t stop it. The sky tilts, my vision flickers, and just before the darkness pulls me under…

I see movement.

Her.

She’s not in the crowd anymore. She’s running. Pushing past people, jumping over seats, flying down the steps like the ground is on fire.

And as I’m falling, the last thing I see—

Is her dropping to her knees beside me.

The last thing I feel— Her hands cupping my face, warm, trembling.

And the last thing I hear— My name on her lips, soft and panicked, like she’s been waiting years to say it again.

Then everything goes black.