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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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Right now, it was just the three of them on the couch while watching TV. And building a life together, one small moment at a time.
The television continued to hum softly in the background, the voices of the pundits drifting in and out of focus as the camera cycled through highlights, statistics, and footage of red-and-white flags already beginning to fill the streets of London in anticipation of the next day.
But on the couch, in that quiet living room, none of that noise really mattered anymore.
Francesco leaned his head back against the cushion, one arm draped loosely behind Leah's shoulders while the other kept Cheddar tucked comfortably against his chest. The little corgi had fully surrendered to the warmth and security of his hold, eyes half-closed, breathing slow and steady, his small body rising and falling in soft rhythm.
Leah rested against him, her cheek brushing his shoulder, her hand occasionally reaching over to scratch Cheddar gently behind the ears. Every time she did, the puppy's tail gave a faint, lazy wag, as if he was dreaming and still enjoying the attention.
They didn't say much after that.
They didn't need to.
The quiet did the talking for them.
Eventually, the sky outside shifted from warm gold to the cooler tones of evening. The house lights came on one by one as the sun dipped lower, and the day slowly folded itself into night.
They ate dinner together in the kitchen with something simple, something easy and still talking occasionally about tomorrow, about what time they needed to leave, about where they would stand on the bus, about how Cheddar would behave (Leah insisted he would be perfect; Francesco remained amusedly skeptical).
Later, they moved back into the living room again, Cheddar now a little more energetic, exploring his toys, occasionally tripping over his own paws and earning soft laughter from both of them.
At one point, he managed to climb halfway onto the couch, only to slide back down again in a clumsy tumble that made Leah gasp and Francesco chuckle as he leaned forward to help the puppy back up.
"Careful, champion," Francesco murmured, steadying him.
Leah shook her head, smiling. "He's already got your determination."
Francesco raised an eyebrow. "Good. He'll need it tomorrow."
"Hey," Leah protested lightly. "He's going to be the star of the parade."
Francesco laughed softly. "We'll see about that."
By the time the night settled fully, they eventually carried Cheddar up to their room, setting up his small bed near their own so he wouldn't feel alone.
The puppy circled his new bed once… twice… then finally curled into it with a soft sigh, already exhausted from his first day in his new home.
Leah crouched down beside him, brushing her fingers along his head one last time.
"Goodnight, Cheddar," she whispered.
Francesco stood behind her, watching quietly.
Then they both turned off the lights, climbed into bed, and let the quiet take them.
Tomorrow would be loud.
But tonight… was still theirs.
Morning came earlier than usual.
Not because of alarms.
But because of anticipation.
Francesco woke first, the early light just beginning to slip through the curtains. For a moment, he lay still, staring at the ceiling, letting his mind catch up with the day.
Parade day.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
He turned his head slightly.
Leah was still asleep beside him, one hand resting near Cheddar's small bed on the floor. The puppy was already awake, though as it curled into his blanket, blinking up at the room with curious eyes.
Francesco shifted carefully, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
Cheddar's ears perked up immediately.
Francesco looked down at him.
"Morning," he whispered softly.
Cheddar gave a tiny yip in response, his tail thumping lightly against the bed.
Francesco chuckled under his breath.
"Shh," he said gently, glancing back at Leah. "Let her sleep."
He stood up quietly and moved toward the bathroom to get ready, the familiar routine grounding him.
By the time he came back out, Leah was stirring.
She blinked sleepily, then smiled the moment she saw him.
"Morning," she said softly.
"Morning," he replied.
Her gaze drifted immediately down to Cheddar, who was now standing with his front paws on the edge of his bed, looking up at them expectantly.
"And good morning to you too," she added, her voice brightening as she scooped the puppy up.
Cheddar wriggled happily in her arms.
Francesco leaned against the wall, watching them both with that same quiet warmth.
"You ready?" he asked.
Leah nodded immediately. "Of course."
She paused, then added with a small grin, "And he's coming too, remember."
Francesco shook his head with a laugh. "I remember."
A little while later, they were in the car again.
Leah sat in the passenger seat, Cheddar cradled carefully in her lap just like the day before, one hand supporting him, the other gently stroking along his back.
Francesco drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting casually against the center console.
The road to London Colney Training Centre that known to everyone simply as Colney was felt different today.
There was a lightness in the air.
Cars passed them with scarves hanging from windows.
Pedestrians on the sidewalks wore red and white shirts.
A few people even recognized Francesco's car, waving enthusiastically as they drove past.
Leah noticed and laughed softly.
"They already started celebrating," she said.
Francesco smiled faintly. "They deserve it."
Cheddar shifted slightly, trying to look out the window.
Leah adjusted him gently. "You see all that?" she whispered to him. "That's for your dad."
Francesco glanced sideways at her, one eyebrow lifting.
"Your dad?" he repeated.
Leah grinned. "Well, what else would you call yourself now?"
Francesco huffed a quiet laugh. "I guess I'll accept it."
The drive didn't take long.
Soon, the familiar gates of Colney came into view.
Security waved them through immediately, and Francesco guided the car inside, following the flow of vehicles already arriving.
The place was already alive with movement.
Staff walking quickly between buildings.
Players arriving one by one.
Families stepping out of cars.
Girlfriends, children, parents as everyone gathered together for the celebration.
Francesco pulled into a parking spot and turned off the engine.
For a second, he just sat there, looking out at the scene.
This was it.
The beginning of the celebration.
Leah reached over and squeezed his hand gently.
"You ready, captain?" she asked softly.
Francesco looked at her, then at Cheddar in her lap, then back out at the team.
He smiled.
"Yeah," he said. "Let's go."
They stepped out of the car together.
Leah held Cheddar close, careful and protective as always.
Francesco came around to her side, instinctively placing a hand at the small of her back as they began to walk toward the others.
Around them, familiar faces were everywhere.
Teammates greeting each other with hugs and laughs.
Some had their partners with them, others had children running excitedly around the lot.
Francesco spotted a few of his teammates immediately as some waving, some calling his name.
He lifted a hand in response, smiling.
"Captain!" one of them shouted from across the lot.
Francesco laughed and nodded back.
Leah leaned slightly closer to him as they walked, her eyes taking in everything.
"This is amazing," she murmured.
Francesco nodded. "It always is."
Then his gaze shifted.
And he saw it.
Parked a little further ahead.
Waiting.
The double-decker bus.
The top deck open to the sky, draped in red and white banners, the club crest proudly displayed along the sides.
Francesco slowed slightly as he took it in.
Even after everything he had experienced in his career… moments like this still meant something.
Still hit him right in the chest.
He exhaled slowly.
Leah followed his gaze and smiled.
"That's going to be your ride today," she said.
Francesco nodded once. "Our ride," he corrected gently.
She smiled at that.
They continued walking.
Players and staff greeted him one by one as he moved through the gathering.
Claps on the back.
Handshakes.
Hugs.
"Congratulations, skipper."
"Another one, eh?"
"Unbelievable season."
Francesco returned each greeting with genuine warmth.
Then, just ahead, he saw a familiar figure.
Standing slightly apart, watching the scene with a calm, satisfied expression.
Arsène Wenger.
Francesco's posture straightened slightly as he approached.
"Boss," he said with a respectful nod as he reached him.
Wenger's eyes lit up warmly.
"Francesco," he replied, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations. Again."
"Thank you," Francesco said sincerely.
Wenger's gaze shifted briefly to Leah and Cheddar.
"And who is this new addition?" he asked, a small smile forming.
Leah stepped forward slightly, holding Cheddar up just a little.
"This is Cheddar," she said warmly.
Wenger chuckled softly. "Very good. Even the captain brings reinforcement today."
Francesco laughed quietly.
Then, behind them, movement caught his eye.
Club staff were carefully bringing out the trophies.
All three of them.
The Premier League trophy.
The FA cup.
And the Champions League.
The treble.
Carried carefully, polished to a perfect shine, reflecting the morning light.
Francesco's gaze locked onto them for a moment.
Every sacrifice.
Every match.
Every goal.
Every recovery.
Every training session.
Every ounce of effort…
All of it reflected in those three pieces of silver and gold.
He felt Leah's hand slip into his again, grounding him in the moment.
He squeezed back gently.
Around them, the rest of the team began to gather closer.
The bus waited.
The fans were already filling the streets.
The city was ready.
For a few seconds, everything held still in that quiet pocket of time.
The trophies gleamed.
The players gathered.
The morning sun climbed just a little higher.
And then the moment shifted.
An Arsenal staff member clapped his hands once, loud enough to draw attention.
"Alright, everyone, time to get on the bus!"
There was a ripple of movement instantly.
Laughter.
Shouts.
The low hum of anticipation rising all around.
Francesco glanced at Leah, his fingers still intertwined with hers.
"Well," he said softly, a small smile forming, "this is it."
Leah squeezed his hand once, her other arm still cradling Cheddar against her chest.
"This is it," she echoed.
Together, they walked toward the double-decker bus.
Up close, it felt even more real with the red-and-white banners fluttering gently, the club crest shining proudly, the open top deck waiting to carry them through the city.
Players began to climb aboard, one after another, helping their partners, their children, laughing as they went.
Francesco guided Leah carefully up the steps, one hand steady at her back just in case, while she kept Cheddar safely tucked in her arms.
Once they reached the top deck, the view opened up around them.
Rows of seats along the sides.
Open air above.
The skyline stretching in the distance.
It felt like standing on the edge of something massive.
Francesco helped Leah settle into a seat near the front, close enough that they would be visible to the crowds but still comfortable.
Cheddar sat in her lap, alert now, ears perked up at the new environment, taking everything in with wide, curious eyes.
One by one, the rest of the team filled the bus.
Partners sat beside players.
Children perched excitedly near the railings.
Laughter and chatter filled the air as everyone adjusted, finding their places.
A moment later, more movement below caught Francesco's eye.
Arsène Wenger stepped onto the bus, followed by the coaching staff and several Arsenal staff members who carefully carried the three trophies with them was the Premier League, the FA Cup, and the Champions League.
The sight of them being lifted up onto the bus drew a small, collective cheer from the players already seated.
Francesco felt that same tightness in his chest again.
Those trophies weren't just objects.
They were proof.
Of everything.
Of all of them.
The staff carefully placed the trophies near the front where they would be easy to lift and show to the fans when the time came.
The last checks were made.
Voices called out to confirm everyone was on board.
And then.
The engine rumbled to life.
A low, powerful vibration that rolled up through the floor of the bus and into their feet.
Leah's hand instinctively found Francesco's again.
"Here we go," she whispered.
Francesco smiled.
"Here we go."
The bus began to move.
Slowly at first, easing out of the training ground, rolling past the gates of London Colney Training Centre.
Even there, outside the gates, small groups of fans had gathered, waving scarves and flags, cheering as the bus passed.
The players waved back immediately.
Francesco lifted one hand, smiling warmly as he acknowledged them.
Cheddar gave a small bark at the noise, making Leah laugh softly.
"He's already part of it," she said.
"He's loving it," Francesco replied.
As the bus moved further along, the chatter on the top deck grew louder, more animated.
Players turned to one another, conversations sparking all around.
A few seats back, Mesut Özil leaned toward Alexis Sánchez, a playful grin on his face.
"Tell me," Özil said, gesturing vaguely toward the road ahead, "which fans do you think are hiding today, Chelsea or Tottenham?"
Sánchez laughed, shaking his head.
"Both," he said. "They're probably watching from behind the curtains."
"Good," Özil replied with a smirk. "They should watch."
A few rows over, Laurent Koscielny stood beside Per Mertesacker, the two defenders deep in conversation.
Per that now officially retired had a relaxed, content look about him, the pressure of the game no longer on his shoulders, but the pride still very much present in his eyes.
"You picked a good year to watch from the outside," Koscielny teased.
Per chuckled. "I think I chose perfectly."
They shared a quiet, knowing smile.
Nearby, Virgil van Dijk stood with N'Golo Kanté and Kyle Walker, all three of them looking out over the city as it slowly drew closer.
Van Dijk stretched his arms along the railing.
"Have you seen the numbers?" he said. "They're saying tens of thousands."
Kanté smiled softly, his voice gentle as always. "It's for everyone. For the team."
Walker grinned. "It's going to be madness. I can't wait."
All around them, conversations continued from Nacho Monreal talking with Andrew Robertson, Héctor Bellerín joking with Granit Xhaka, Santi Cazorla laughing with Serge Gnabry, Olivier Giroud chatting with Alex Iwobi, Aaron Ramsey speaking with Mohamed Elneny, and Rob Holding and Shkodran Mustafi exchanging smiles as they looked out at the growing crowds, and Cech with Ospina who smiled happily and talking together about some goalkeeping technique.
It felt like a family.
Not just a team.
A family that had been through everything together and had come out the other side stronger.
Francesco stood near the front rail now, one hand resting lightly on it, the other occasionally reaching back to Leah, making sure she was comfortable.
Cheddar had calmed again in her arms, occasionally peeking over the edge, nose twitching at the new smells and sounds.
As they drove further, the streets began to change.
More people.
More red and white.
More flags.
The chants started faintly at first as small groups singing together as the bus passed.
Then louder.
And louder.
The closer they got to central London, the more it grew.
By the time the bus finally reached the heart of the city…
It was a sea.
A sea of Arsenal supporters.
Tens of thousands of fans lined the streets, packed together in waves of red and white, banners held high, scarves stretched above heads, voices raised in songs that echoed between the buildings.
The moment the fans saw the bus turn the corner.
The sound exploded.
A roar.
A wall of sound so loud it felt physical.
Francesco felt it hit his chest like a heartbeat.
The players reacted instantly.
Arms went up.
Waves.
Shouts.
Cheers.
Francesco turned, reaching for one of the trophies.
He lifted the FA Cup high above his head, the silver gleaming in the sunlight.
Beside him, Per lifted the Premier League trophy, his arms strong and steady.
And just behind them, Arsène Wenger raised the Champions League trophy high into the air.
The reaction from the fans was immediate and overwhelming.
The roar grew even louder, if that was even possible.
Confetti cannons fired from the sides of the streets, red and white paper bursting into the air and raining down over the bus like a storm of color.
Music blared from speakers set up along the parade route.
Drums beat.
Chants rolled like thunder.
"Arsenal! Arsenal! Arsenal!"
Champagne bottles popped open around them, spraying arcs of sparkling liquid into the air as players laughed, shouted, celebrated.
Leah laughed too, shielding Cheddar gently as a bit of spray drifted their way, her eyes shining as she looked out at the crowd.
"This is incredible," she said, her voice almost lost in the noise.
Francesco lowered the FA Cup for a moment, turning to look at her.
At Cheddar.
At his teammates.
At the fans.
At the city that had embraced him.
And he smiled.
A full, genuine, unguarded smile.
This was everything.
The journey.
The struggle.
The sacrifice.
The victories.
The love.
All of it leading to this moment.
And as the bus rolled forward through the streets of London, surrounded by tens of thousands of voices singing their names, Francesco lifted the FA Cup once more, raising it high to the sky.
Sharing it with the people who had been with them every step of the way.
Francesco kept the FA Cup raised for a few seconds longer, letting the roar wash over him, letting the moment soak all the way into his bones.
The silver glinted under the morning light, the ribbons fluttering as the bus rolled forward through the heart of London.
Then, gradually, he lowered it again.
He took one last look at it in his hands at the engraving, the polished surface that reflected flashes of red and white from the crowd, before he turned and passed it carefully to one of his teammates beside him.
"Share it," he said with a soft smile.
The teammate nodded, immediately lifting it up again for the fans further back along the bus.
Francesco stepped back slightly from the railing, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
The noise was still there.
The music.
The chants.
The drums.
The confetti drifting through the air.
But inside him, for a brief moment, there was a small pocket of calm again.
A heartbeat of stillness in the middle of all that chaos.
And then he felt a small nudge at his side.
Leah.
She shifted closer, carefully passing Cheddar into his arms.
"Here," she said, her voice bright with excitement. "Hold him for a second."
Francesco blinked in surprise, then laughed softly as he instinctively adjusted his hold, cradling the little corgi against his chest.
"Hey, little star," he murmured to Cheddar, scratching gently behind his ear.
Cheddar looked up at him, tongue peeking out slightly, completely unfazed by the chaos around them now.
Meanwhile, Leah had already pulled out her phone, her eyes lighting up as she turned toward the crowd.
"Oh my God," she breathed, her voice filled with awe. "Look at this…"
She lifted her phone up, switching to the camera, capturing the endless sea of Arsenal supporters stretching down the streets.
Scarves waving.
Flags flying.
People singing with their arms around each other.
She recorded a slow pan of the crowd, the noise pouring through the microphone.
Then she turned the camera toward the bus, capturing the players from laughing, cheering, lifting trophies, spraying champagne.
She snapped pictures of the confetti raining down.
Of Per with the Premier League trophy.
Of Wenger with the Champions League.
Of Francesco standing there with Cheddar in his arms, smiling like he belonged exactly where he was.
Leah grinned as she posted an Instagram story, adding a quick caption:
"Parade day with the champions ❤️🏆 #Arsenal #TrebleWinners"
Then she recorded another short video, speaking over the sound of the crowd.
"You guys, this is insane," she said, turning the camera around to show the fans. "Look at this… London is completely red today!"
She laughed as the chant of "Arsenal! Arsenal!" swelled behind her.
Francesco watched her for a second, smiling at how genuinely happy she looked and how proud she is.
He shifted Cheddar slightly in his arms, leaning forward again to wave to the crowd, the little corgi's ears bouncing with the motion.
"Look at that," someone shouted from further down the bus. "Even the dog's celebrating!"
Francesco laughed and raised Cheddar gently, holding him up just enough so the fans could see.
The reaction was immediate.
A wave of delighted cheers and laughter rolled through the crowd.
"Cheddar! Cheddar! Cheddar!"
Leah turned instantly, catching the moment on her phone, laughing as she zoomed in.
"Oh my God, they're chanting his name!"
Francesco shook his head, amused. "Told you he'd steal the show."
Cheddar gave a small bark, as if acknowledging the crowd, making everyone around them laugh even harder.
The bus kept moving slowly, winding its way through the streets.
The celebrations didn't slow down.
If anything, they grew stronger the deeper into the city they went.
Music blasted from speakers set up along the route.
Street performers danced in Arsenal shirts.
Families held their children on their shoulders so they could see the players.
Everywhere Francesco looked, there were faces full of joy.
Faces full of pride.
Faces that had lived through every match, every moment of the season with them.
He leaned against the railing again, Cheddar tucked safely in one arm, his other hand resting lightly on Leah's shoulder as she continued to film.
At one point, she turned the camera toward him.
"Say something for the fans," she teased.
Francesco smirked slightly, then looked directly into the lens.
"Thank you for everything," he said simply, his voice steady but full of meaning. "This is for all of you."
Leah's smile softened as she lowered the phone again.
"Perfect," she said.
The bus rolled forward.
Street after street.
Corner after corner.
And as they moved, something else became noticeable.
Here and there, among the crowds of red and white, there were pockets of empty spaces.
Balconies with curtains drawn.
Windows closed.
Doorways where a few people stood watching quietly but without the same joy.
Francesco noticed it first when they passed a street where a blue flag hung limply from a window, Chelsea blue.
The window was closed.
The curtains barely parted.
Inside, someone watched, but they didn't cheer.
Leah noticed it too.
"…I think some people aren't enjoying this as much as we are," she said softly, half amused.
Francesco chuckled.
"Chelsea fans probably staying indoors today," he said.
Further along, they passed another area where a few white-and-navy shirts were visible at the edge of the crowd.
Tottenham supporters.
They weren't cheering.
Some stood with their arms crossed.
Others had turned away entirely.
Some had simply… disappeared.
Leah raised an eyebrow, glancing at Francesco.
"They're really hiding, huh?"
Francesco smirked slightly, not in arrogance, but in that quiet, satisfied way of a competitor who knows exactly what this moment means.
"It's a tough day for them," he admitted. "Watching your biggest rival win everything… again."
Because that's what this was.
Another treble.
Another season where Arsenal had risen above everyone else.
Especially for Tottenham fans as watching their greatest rival lift trophy after trophy while their own season ended without a major title, it stung.
And it showed.
But Francesco didn't dwell on it.
He didn't need to.
Because for every one of those quiet windows, there were thousands or tens of thousands of voices celebrating in the streets.
That was what mattered.
He turned back to the sea of Arsenal supporters, lifting his hand again, waving, smiling, sharing the moment with them.
Leah slipped her arm through his for a second, leaning gently into him as she watched the crowd.
"You've given them something they'll remember forever," she said softly.
Francesco shook his head slightly.
"We did," he said again, glancing back at his teammates. "All of us."
The bus continued its route, the buildings slowly shifting as they made their way toward their final destination.
And then, gradually, in the distance as it came into view.
The stadium.
The place that had been their home.
Their fortress.
Emirates Stadium rose ahead of them, its structure towering over the surrounding streets, red banners already draped across the exterior, fans packed tightly around the approach.
The noise grew even louder somehow.
As if the city itself was welcoming them home.
Francesco felt his chest tighten again but this time, it wasn't just pride.
It was emotion.
Deep.
Real.
He glanced at Leah.
At Cheddar.
At his teammates.
At Wenger.
At the trophies.
At the fans.
And as the bus rolled closer to the stadium, surrounded by the people who loved this club as much as he did, Francesco knew one thing with absolute certainty.
This wasn't just a celebration of what they had done. It was a celebration of who they were, which is together as one and that is as Arsenal.
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Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 18 (2016)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, and 2016/2017 Champions League.
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9