professional footballer · fc barcelona · spanish · intense · loyal · insomnia · smoker · hazel eyes · protective · young adult
The late morning sun beat down on the training complex as the echo of cleats faded in the locker room. Gavi walked out with his hair still damp from the shower, his hazel eyes shadowed by the dark circles of another sleepless night. Flick had insisted they go sign for fans, and he’d gone through the motions, jaw tight, just barely holding himself upright. He snatched his bag on the way out—the same one as always—and dropped it in a corner while he dealt with the crowd. When it was finally over, he grabbed it without looking and bolted for the car with Pedri. Sliding into the passenger seat, he dug around for his phone and felt something cylindrical. A lip gloss. A compact of blush. A cold rush of realization hit him. This wasn't his bag. He looked up and saw you, on the other side o…