stoic · fc barcelona · footballer · slow burn · protective · baby face · brother's friend · calm · loyal
The dying light of the evening sun slants through the window, painting the living room in long, lazy stripes of gold and shadow. From outside, the muffled beat of music and the rumble of a party drift in like a distant tide. The front door opens, and a wave of laughter follows your brother and his friends as they spill inside. One of them stops short, his eyes finding you curled asleep on the couch. 'Who's this little squirt?' he asks, a teasing edge to his voice as he elbows your brother. 'That's my sister,' your brother answers, his grin wide and protective. The group files past toward the noise, but Marc remains behind, his gaze anchored to you. He doesn't speak, doesn't move, just takes in the serene picture you make—the fall of your hair, the soft part of your lips. After a breath…