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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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But inside, for that moment everything was exactly where it was meant to be. And tomorrow would come in its own time as for now, they went to rest.
Morning came slowly.
Not with alarms.
Not with urgency.
But with that heavy, comfortable stillness that only follows after something truly exhausting in the best possible way.
Sunlight slipped quietly through the curtains of the Richmond mansion, stretching across the floor in warm, golden lines. Dust motes floated lazily in the air. The world outside moved as it always did with cars passing, distant voices, the faint hum of a normal London day but inside the mansion, time felt like it had decided to take a breath.
Francesco didn't wake all at once.
He stirred.
Shifted slightly.
Blinking slowly as consciousness found its way back.
For a second, he didn't move at all.
He just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the memories of the previous day flickering behind his eyes in flashes from red smoke, roaring stands, the trophies, the bus, the ballroom, the music, the laughter.
And then he felt it.
The warmth beside him.
Leah.
Still asleep, one arm draped lightly across him, her breathing slow and even.
He turned his head slightly to look at her.
Her hair spread softly across the pillow.
Her expression peaceful.
A faint, tired smile still lingering even in sleep.
He smiled back, without even thinking.
Then.
A sound.
Soft at first.
Then again.
A small, familiar whine.
Francesco blinked.
Listened.
There it was again.
A soft, insistent little bark echoing faintly from downstairs.
He let out a quiet breath of amusement.
"Cheddar," he murmured.
Beside him, Leah stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open.
"Mm… what is it?" she asked sleepily.
Francesco chuckled softly.
"I think someone's hungry."
Another bark echoed up from below.
This time, a little louder.
Leah groaned lightly, burying her face briefly into the pillow.
"He has perfect timing," she mumbled.
Francesco laughed under his breath, carefully easing himself out of bed so he wouldn't disturb her too much.
"Go back to sleep for a bit," he said gently. "I'll get him."
She reached out lazily, catching his wrist for a second before letting go, smiling up at him with sleepy eyes.
"Don't let him convince you he needs double breakfast," she teased softly.
"No promises," he replied with a grin.
He pulled on a t-shirt and some comfortable lounge pants, ran a hand through his hair, and made his way downstairs.
The house was quiet, bathed in morning light.
As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, Cheddar appeared from around the corner, tail wagging, ears perked, little paws tapping eagerly against the floor.
"There you are," Francesco said warmly, crouching down to greet him.
Cheddar gave a happy bark and bounced in place, clearly thrilled that someone had finally responded to his calls.
"Alright, alright," Francesco laughed, giving him a gentle pat. "I hear you."
He walked over to the kitchen area, Cheddar following closely at his heels like a tiny shadow.
Francesco reached for the dog food container, scooping out Cheddar's breakfast into his bowl.
"There we go," he said, setting it down.
Cheddar didn't need to be told twice.
He dove into his food immediately, little tail wagging nonstop as he ate.
Francesco leaned against the counter for a moment, watching him with a soft smile.
Simple moments.
Quiet moments.
They felt different now.
Fuller.
Earned.
After everything.
Footsteps came down the stairs behind him.
Leah.
She had changed into a loose, comfortable top and shorts, her hair tied up casually.
She leaned lightly against the doorway for a second, watching the scene with a soft expression.
"He's dramatic," she said.
Francesco glanced back at her.
"Very."
She walked over, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as she passed.
"Morning."
"Morning," he replied.
She glanced at Cheddar.
"Looks like you've been taken care of."
"He made sure of it."
She smiled, then moved further into the kitchen, opening the fridge and scanning what they had.
"What do you feel like for brunch?" she asked over her shoulder.
Francesco thought for a moment.
"Anything you make," he said honestly.
She laughed lightly. "Dangerous answer."
"I trust you," he replied with a small smile.
She began pulling ingredients out from eggs, bread, vegetables, a bit of cheese while moving around the kitchen with an easy, natural rhythm.
Francesco moved out into the living room, dropping down onto the couch.
He reached for the remote.
Turned on the TV.
The screen flickered to life.
And almost instantly.
There it was.
Footage.
The parade.
The stadium.
The celebrations.
The red sea of supporters.
The commentator's voice filled the room.
"—and what we witnessed yesterday will go down as one of the most extraordinary achievements in football history…"
Francesco leaned back, one arm resting along the back of the couch as he watched.
On screen, the open-top bus rolled through the streets, surrounded by a sea of red and white.
Fans chanting.
Flags waving.
Smoke drifting.
Camera angles cut between close-ups of players, wide shots of the city, overhead views of the stadium filled beyond capacity.
"Arsenal Football Club have not only secured another treble…" the commentator continued, "…but have now become the first team in the history of the sport to defend it successfully."
Clips showed the trophies being lifted again.
The Premier League.
The FA Cup.
The Champions League.
Side by side.
Again.
History repeated.
And then surpassed.
Francesco watched quietly, taking it in from the outside now.
It felt different seeing it like this.
Less intense.
More reflective.
He saw himself on screen, lifting the Champions League trophy, confetti raining down around him.
He saw Leah in the background in one shot, smiling, Cheddar in her arms.
He smiled softly at that.
From the kitchen, Leah's voice carried over.
"Are they replaying it?"
"Yeah," Francesco replied.
"Put it louder!" she called.
He chuckled and raised the volume slightly.
The broadcast shifted to interviews.
Clips of fans speaking outside the stadium.
"Best team we've ever seen."
"Back-to-back trebles! Who does that?"
"They've made us proud beyond words."
Francesco let out a quiet breath.
Behind him, he could hear the gentle sounds of Leah cooking with eggs sizzling softly in the pan, the clink of utensils, the subtle hum of her voice as she absentmindedly sang along to a tune only she seemed to hear.
Cheddar eventually finished his meal and trotted into the living room, jumping up onto the couch beside Francesco, curling up against his leg.
Francesco absentmindedly rested a hand on his back, gently stroking his fur as he watched the screen.
The news shifted to a studio panel.
Pundits discussing.
Analyzing.
Praising.
"This Arsenal side," one of them said, "has rewritten what we thought was possible. Talent, depth, mentality, leadership as everything aligned at the perfect moment."
Another nodded.
"And their captain," he added, gesturing to an image of Francesco on the screen, "has been at the heart of it all. Goals, leadership, big moments as he's delivered every single time."
Francesco shifted slightly on the couch, a little uncomfortable hearing it so directly.
From the kitchen, Leah called out teasingly, "You hear that, captain?"
He rolled his eyes lightly, smiling.
"I'm muting it," he called back.
"No, you're not!" she laughed.
He left it on.
Because despite the awkwardness, part of him wanted to remember this.
Not just feel it.
See it.
Understand it.
A few minutes later, Leah appeared at the edge of the living room, carrying two plates.
"Brunch is served," she announced with a playful smile.
Francesco looked up.
His eyes lit up immediately.
"That looks incredible."
She walked over, handing him a plate before sitting down beside him.
On the plates from scrambled eggs, toast, lightly sautéed vegetables, a bit of cheese, simple but perfect.
"Fuel for champions," she said.
"Chef of champions," he replied.
She bumped her shoulder lightly into his.
They ate together, watching the coverage continue.
Every now and then, one of them would point something out on the screen.
"Oh look, there's Robertson trying to dance again."
"Walker's never going to let him forget that."
"That shot of the stadium… look at that…"
Conversation flowed easily.
Comfortably.
Like everything had finally slowed down enough for them to actually sit in the moment.
After a while, Francesco leaned back slightly, plate resting on his lap, eyes still on the screen.
"You know," he said quietly, "I don't think it's fully sunk in yet."
Leah glanced at him.
"What part?"
"All of it," he admitted. "What we did. Back-to-back trebles… no one's ever done that before."
She nodded softly.
"You will," she said. "It'll just take time."
He looked at her.
She smiled gently.
"Right now, just enjoy it."
He nodded.
She was right.
He looked back at the TV.
At the highlights.
At the fans.
At the team.
At the journey.
And for the first time since it all ended.
He didn't feel the adrenaline.
He didn't feel the pressure.
He didn't feel the weight of the next match, the next challenge, the next expectation.
He just felt…
Pride.
Peace.
And a quiet, steady happiness that settled deep in his chest.
Beside him, Leah leaned her head lightly against his shoulder again.
Cheddar snored softly at his side.
The television continued to play in the background from crowds singing, commentators analyzing, highlights looping again and again but inside the room, a calm had settled that felt almost sacred.
Francesco shifted slightly on the couch, careful not to wake the small dog curled against him or disturb Leah resting on his shoulder. He let his head tilt back just enough to rest against the cushion, eyes drifting toward the window where sunlight spilled across the floor in long, gentle streaks.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
They just sat there.
Breathing.
Existing in the quiet space between what had been and what would come next.
Leah's fingers traced small, absent patterns along his arm as she watched the television without really watching it anymore.
Francesco's mind wandered.
Through the season.
Through the matches.
Through the late nights at the training ground.
Through the injuries, the comebacks, the pressure, the expectations.
Through the roar of the crowd and the silence of recovery rooms.
Through every moment that had built toward what they had achieved.
And then, slowly, his thoughts drifted forward.
To what came next.
The off-season.
A word that, for most people, simply meant holiday.
Rest.
Relaxation.
But for him, it always came with something else as well.
Decisions.
Plans.
Commitments.
Expectations from outside the pitch as much as inside it.
He shifted slightly again, glancing down at Leah.
She looked peaceful.
Content.
There was a softness to her expression that only appeared when she felt completely at ease.
He liked that.
No.
He loved that.
And suddenly, more than anything, he realized he wanted this feeling to last a little longer.
Just for a while.
Just long enough to breathe before the next wave of responsibility arrived.
He took a small breath.
"Leah," he said gently.
She tilted her head slightly to look up at him, her cheek still resting against his shoulder.
"Hmm?"
He hesitated for just a second, not because he didn't know what he wanted to say, but because he wanted to say it the right way.
"Do you want to go somewhere this off-season?"
She blinked once, processing the question, then shifted slightly so she could sit a little more upright and look at him properly.
"Somewhere?" she repeated.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Anywhere. A trip. A break. Just… us."
She studied his face for a moment.
There was something in his tone with something softer than usual, something thoughtful, almost careful.
She smiled gently.
"I don't know yet," she admitted honestly.
He nodded slowly, giving her the space to think.
She leaned back again, her shoulder pressing into his, her fingers idly playing with the edge of his shirt as she spoke.
"How about this," she said after a moment. "We stay home for a week first."
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
"A week?"
She nodded.
"Yeah. No traveling. No schedules. No obligations. Just us… here."
Her gaze drifted around the room from the couch, the sunlight, Cheddar curled up peacefully, the quiet hum of the house.
"We haven't really had that in a long time," she added softly.
Francesco considered it.
The idea settled in his chest like something warm.
Comfortable.
Grounding.
He nodded.
"I like that."
She smiled.
"Good."
Then she added, a playful hint returning to her tone, "And after that… we can start thinking about where to go. Somewhere warm, maybe. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere no one can find you."
He chuckled softly.
"Good luck with that last part."
She laughed, nudging him lightly.
"You know what I mean."
"I do," he said, smiling.
She tilted her head slightly, looking at him with a knowing expression.
"And besides," she continued, "we both know this 'off-season' of yours isn't exactly going to be quiet for long."
Francesco exhaled through his nose, half amused, half resigned.
"Yeah…"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Jorge Mendes will be calling soon."
Francesco let out a small laugh.
"Probably already tried."
"Exactly," she said, smiling knowingly. "Sponsorship deals, appearances, interviews, photoshoots…"
He groaned lightly, leaning his head back against the couch.
"You make it sound so relaxing."
She laughed, the sound light and warm.
"You love it, really."
He tilted his head slightly, looking at her with a small, teasing smile.
"I love the football."
"Mm-hmm," she said knowingly.
He shrugged lightly.
"Everything else… comes with it."
She reached over, gently squeezing his hand.
"And you handle it well."
He squeezed her hand back.
"Only because I've got you helping me stay sane."
She smiled at that.
They fell into a comfortable silence again, the kind that didn't need filling.
On the TV, another highlight rolled as this time a slow-motion shot of the team celebrating together, arms around each other, laughing, shouting, jumping.
Francesco watched it quietly.
Then he spoke again, softer this time.
"I meant it, you know."
Leah looked at him.
"What?"
"Going somewhere," he said. "When we're ready. Just us. Away from everything."
She studied his face again.
Saw the sincerity there.
The quiet intention.
And she nodded.
"Then we will," she said simply.
He smiled.
Satisfied.
Content with that promise for now.
Cheddar stirred slightly between them, stretching out one small paw before settling again.
Leah laughed softly.
"He agrees with the stay home for a week plan."
Francesco chuckled.
"Of course he does."
They finished their brunch slowly, taking their time, talking about small things now from what groceries they needed, which friends they should invite over at some point, what movies they had missed during the season.
Normal life.
Simple life.
The kind of life that had been on pause for months.
After they finished eating, Leah gathered the plates, carrying them back into the kitchen.
Francesco stayed on the couch for a moment longer, watching the tail end of the broadcast as the presenters wrapped up their coverage.
"…and as the celebrations settle," one of them said, "the question now turns to what comes next for this extraordinary Arsenal side."
Francesco reached for the remote and turned the TV off.
Silence filled the room again.
A good silence.
He stood, stretching slightly, feeling the pleasant heaviness still lingering in his muscles from the long season.
Then he walked into the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter as Leah rinsed the dishes.
"Need help?" he asked.
She glanced at him, smiling.
"You cooked last time."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I ordered takeaway."
"That counts," she replied firmly.
He laughed.
"Alright. I'll dry."
They fell into an easy rhythm from washing, drying, putting things away.
Side by side.
Talking about nothing and everything at the same time.
At one point, Leah flicked a bit of water at him.
He blinked, surprised.
"Did you just—"
She grinned mischievously.
He narrowed his eyes playfully.
"Oh, you've started something now."
She laughed and backed away as he reached for the tap, flicking a few drops of water in her direction.
"Hey!" she protested, laughing as she dodged.
Cheddar barked excitedly from the doorway, clearly thinking this was the best game he'd seen all day.
Eventually, they both ended up laughing, the small kitchen filled with warmth and lightness.
The kind of laughter that comes when there's no pressure, no expectation, no clock ticking in the background.
Just them.
When things finally settled again, Leah dried her hands and stepped closer to him, resting her forehead briefly against his chest.
"Thank you," she said softly.
He tilted his head slightly.
"For what?"
"For asking," she replied. "About the holiday. About… us."
He smiled gently, wrapping his arms around her.
"There's nothing more important than 'us'," he said quietly.
She closed her eyes for a moment, holding onto him.
Outside, the day continued.
Inside, their week of quiet had already begun.
Outside, the day continued.
Inside, their week of quiet had already begun.
For a while, they stayed exactly where they were close, unhurried, held in that gentle stillness that felt almost like a reward after everything they had poured into the season.
Leah rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Francesco held her there, one hand resting at the small of her back, the other brushing lightly along her arm in slow, absent strokes.
No rush.
No urgency.
No noise.
Just the soft hum of a house that finally felt like it had time again.
Upstairs, the curtains stirred faintly in a breeze from a cracked window.
Downstairs, Cheddar wandered in small, curious circles, sniffing at the corners of furniture like he was still mapping out the territory he now called home.
Somewhere outside, a car passed.
Then another.
Then.
A sound.
A distinct, clear chime.
The doorbell.
It cut gently through the calm, not loud, not jarring, but enough to shift the moment.
Leah lifted her head slightly, blinking.
Francesco frowned just a little, not annoyed, just surprised.
"Were you expecting someone?" Leah asked softly.
He shook his head slowly.
"No…"
The bell rang again, a polite second press.
Francesco stepped back slightly, his hand sliding away from Leah's back as he glanced toward the hallway.
"I'll check," he said.
Leah nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair back behind her ear as she turned slightly toward the living room.
Cheddar perked up immediately at the sound, ears lifting, tail starting to wag as he trotted toward the direction of the door with curious excitement.
"Easy, little man," Leah laughed softly, scooping him up before he could race ahead. "Let's see who it is first."
Francesco walked toward the wall panel near the hallway with the small security console connected to the cameras at the front gate.
He tapped the screen.
The image flickered to life.
And there he was.
Standing just outside the gates.
Suit perfectly pressed.
Sunglasses perched on his face despite the mild London sun.
Phone in one hand.
A folder tucked neatly under the other arm.
Calm.
Composed.
Professional as ever.
Francesco let out a quiet breath through his nose, somewhere between amusement and inevitability.
"Let me guess," Leah said from behind him, already smiling a little because she knew.
Francesco turned the screen slightly so she could see.
She leaned closer.
And then she laughed softly.
"Of course."
Francesco smiled faintly.
"Jorge Mendes."
Right on time.
Leah adjusted Cheddar in her arms, the small dog looking curiously at the screen as if he too was trying to understand who this sharply dressed man at the gate might be.
"Well," she said lightly, "so much for a completely quiet start."
Francesco shook his head with a small smile.
"I should've known."
He tapped the control to unlock the gate.
Outside, the metal gates parted smoothly.
On the screen, Jorge gave a small nod to himself as they opened, then stepped forward, making his way up the path toward the house with the same calm, purposeful stride he always had.
Francesco moved toward the front door.
Leah followed just behind him, Cheddar still in her arms.
By the time Jorge reached the door, Francesco was already there to open it.
"Jorge," Francesco greeted him.
"Francesco," Jorge replied with a small, approving smile as he stepped inside. "Congratulations."
They shook hands firmly.
"Well done," Jorge added. "History again."
"Thank you," Francesco said sincerely.
Jorge's gaze shifted briefly toward Leah.
"And you must be Leah," he said politely.
She nodded, smiling warmly.
"Nice to finally meet you."
"And this," Jorge said, glancing down at the small corgi in her arms, "must be the newest addition."
Leah laughed softly.
"This is Cheddar."
Cheddar tilted his head, as if acknowledging the introduction.
Jorge's expression softened just slightly that just enough to show a hint of warmth beneath his professional exterior.
"Very good," he said.
Francesco stepped aside, gesturing inward.
"Come in."
Jorge entered, his eyes taking in the interior briefly that elegant, modern, lived-in in a way that reflected both comfort and discipline.
"Apologies for coming by unannounced," Jorge said as he walked further into the living room. "But I thought it was better to handle a few things in person."
Francesco gave a knowing smile.
"I figured."
Leah set Cheddar down gently on the rug, the little dog immediately trotting over to investigate the new visitor with curious enthusiasm.
"Cheddar," Leah said softly, "be polite."
Cheddar sniffed at Jorge's shoes, tail wagging.
Jorge looked down at him, then back up at Francesco with the faintest hint of amusement.
"Confident," he observed.
"Very," Francesco replied.
Leah moved toward the kitchen.
"I'll make coffee," she said. "Or tea?"
Jorge inclined his head politely.
"Coffee would be perfect, thank you."
She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two men in the living room.
Jorge set the folder he had been carrying down on the coffee table.
He sat.
Francesco sat across from him.
There was a brief pause that not awkward, just that familiar moment where both understood exactly why they were here.
Jorge opened the folder.
Inside were several neatly organized documents, each clipped and tabbed with precision.
He slid the first set forward.
"These are your renewal agreements," he said calmly.
Francesco glanced down.
Logos printed clearly at the top of each page.
The first.
Nike.
The second.
Coca-Cola.
The third.
BMW.
Francesco let out a small breath.
"Already?"
Jorge gave a small, knowing smile.
"You are coming off back-to-back trebles," he said. "The timing is not a coincidence."
Francesco nodded slowly, picking up the first set of papers, scanning through the pages.
The terms.
The figures.
The commitments.
Appearances.
Campaigns.
Promotional work.
All structured neatly, clearly, professionally.
"Extensions," Jorge continued. "All three partners are very happy with you. They want continuity."
Francesco nodded again.
"That's good."
"It is very good," Jorge confirmed.
From the kitchen, the soft sound of a kettle clicking off filled the air.
Leah moved quietly, preparing the coffee.
Jorge leaned back slightly in his chair, watching Francesco read.
"Of course," Jorge added, "with these renewals come additional expectations."
Francesco didn't look up yet.
"Photoshoots," Jorge said.
Francesco gave a small, knowing exhale.
"Of course."
"Interviews," Jorge continued. "Brand campaigns. Media days."
Francesco flipped to the next page.
"And when?"
Jorge answered simply.
"The next few days."
Francesco finally looked up.
"So soon?"
Jorge met his gaze evenly.
"The world is watching you right now, Francesco," he said calmly. "This is the moment they want to capture."
Francesco leaned back slightly in his seat, one hand resting against his chin as he processed it.
Across the room, Leah entered quietly with a tray with three mugs of coffee placed carefully upon it.
She set it down on the table, handing one to Jorge, one to Francesco, then keeping one for herself as she took a seat beside Francesco on the couch.
"Everything alright?" she asked gently.
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah. Just the next few days filling up already."
She smiled knowingly.
"I told you."
Jorge gave a polite nod in her direction.
"He is in very high demand at the moment," he said.
Leah smiled lightly.
"I can imagine."
Francesco took a sip of his coffee, then set the mug down and picked up a pen from the table.
He glanced at Jorge.
"Anything I should be aware of before I sign?"
Jorge shook his head slightly.
"All terms are in line with your previous agreements, just extended with improved figures and expanded campaigns."
Francesco nodded.
He looked at the documents one more time.
Then, with steady, practiced confidence, he signed.
One page.
Then the next.
Then the next.
Each signature clean, deliberate, final.
When he finished, he set the pen down.
Jorge gathered the documents back into the folder, closing it neatly.
"Good," he said. "I will have my team finalize everything this afternoon."
He took a small sip of his coffee.
"Now," he continued, "I will send you the schedule for the next few days later today. It will include photoshoots for Nike and BMW, a media appearance for Coca-Cola, and a short press segment regarding the season."
Francesco nodded slowly.
"Alright."
Leah glanced at him, then at Jorge.
"Will it be full days?" she asked.
Jorge considered.
"Some will be half-days," he said. "Some longer. But we will ensure he still has time to rest."
Francesco gave a small, appreciative nod.
"Thank you."
Jorge stood then, finishing his coffee and setting the mug back on the table.
"I will not take more of your time today," he said. "Enjoy your rest. You have earned it."
Francesco stood as well.
"Thanks, Jorge."
They shook hands again.
Leah stood and walked them to the door, Cheddar padding along behind them.
At the doorway, Jorge paused briefly, glancing back at Francesco.
"One more thing," he said.
Francesco raised an eyebrow slightly.
Jorge gave a faint, approving smile.
"Enjoy the quiet while you can."
Francesco laughed softly.
"I will."
Jorge nodded once.
Then he stepped out.
The door closed gently behind him.
Silence returned to the house once more.
Francesco stood there for a second, exhaling slowly.
Leah leaned lightly against the wall beside him.
"Well," she said with a soft smile. "That didn't take long."
Francesco shook his head, smiling.
"Nope."
Cheddar barked once, as if adding his own commentary.
Leah laughed.
"Come on," she said, nudging Francesco lightly. "We still have the rest of the day."
Francesco looked at her.
At their home.
At the quiet that had returned.
And he smiled.
"Yeah," he said softly. "We do."
As they stood there, the silence enveloped them once more. Francesco wrapped his arms around Leah, pulling her close. Cheddar snuggled between them, content. In this quiet, they found their own victory which one that no trophy could match. A life together, earned and savored, one gentle moment at a time.
______________________________________________
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