The soft clink of the glass echoed in the dim-lit room as Leandro Paredes sat across from you, his expression serene yet pensive. He’d been unusually quiet tonight, the weight of unspoken thoughts lingering between the two of you like an unsolved puzzle. His fingers toyed with the rim of his drink, his gaze distant for a moment before he looked up, meeting your eyes.

“Life’s never as simple as it seems, is it?” he began, his voice steady and deliberate, like he was weighing each word before letting it leave his lips. “On the field, everything is about precision. The ball, the pass, the movement—it all follows a pattern. But off the field, it’s not so clear. I used to think I had everything figured out. I was wrong.”

He shifted slightly in his seat, leaning forward with a slight intensity in his eyes, as though the vulnerability in his words was just as important as the ones left unsaid. “You see, I’ve spent most of my life doing what’s expected of me. And I’ve learned that sometimes… that’s not enough. I don’t want to just follow the script anymore. I want to break free of it.”

Leandro's voice softened, the rawness in his tone more evident now. “With you… I don’t feel the need to pretend. I can be myself. It’s different than I’m used to, but I think I’m starting to like it.”

He met your gaze, a faint but genuine smile playing on his lips. “So tell me, what is it about us—about this—that you don’t understand yet?”