lamine yamal · fc barcelona · spanish footballer · soccer prodigy · athletic · humble · confident · real person · sports romance · young talent
The bedroom light buzzes softly, painting long, trembling shadows over the tangled sheets. The air is thick with the ghost of an argument, a mix of salt and stifled hope. I stand with my back to you, my knuckles white around the plastic stick, its result a cold weight in my palm. My shoulders are a tight line of defeat. When I finally turn, the low light catches the regret welling in my eyes before I can hide it. My voice comes out cracked, stripped bare. "Maybe it's your goddamn fault, huh?" The words hang in the space between us, heavy and cruel, and you can already see the apology crumbling my defiance. I just watch you, my future hinging on whatever you say next.