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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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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.
The house settled again after the door clicked shut.
The kind of quiet that didn't feel empty, just full in a softer way.
Francesco stood there for a second longer, arms still wrapped loosely around Leah, feeling the warmth of her against him and the small, content weight of Cheddar pressed between them.
Outside, the world carried on.
Inside, everything slowed again.
Leah tilted her head slightly, looking up at him with a small smile that carried both affection and understanding.
"Well," she said softly, "that was your official welcome to the off-season."
Francesco let out a low, amused breath.
"Yeah," he replied. "Straight back into it."
She shrugged gently.
"At least we knew it was coming."
He nodded.
They stood there another moment, just breathing, just being, then Leah gave him a small nudge.
"Come on, captain," she said, her tone playful again. "You promised me a quiet week. We still have some of it left before your calendar turns into chaos."
He smiled.
"I did promise that."
Cheddar let out a soft bark, as if agreeing with her.
Francesco glanced down at him.
"Looks like someone wants a walk."
Leah laughed.
"He always wants a walk."
Francesco grinned.
"Then a walk it is."
They kept that promise.
For the rest of that day, and the next, they stayed close to home.
Simple things.
Breakfast together.
Afternoon walks with Cheddar along the quieter roads of Richmond, the spring air still carrying that crisp edge that hadn't quite faded into summer warmth yet.
Francesco kept a low profile which on hood up sometimes, with sunglasses on but it was impossible to be completely invisible.
A few fans recognized him.
Some waved from across the street.
Some asked politely for a quick photo or a handshake.
Every time, he stopped.
Smiled.
Gave them a moment.
Because he knew what those moments meant.
And because he never forgot who he played for.
Leah watched those interactions with a quiet kind of pride, her hand often slipping into his when they walked again afterward.
"Still the same Francesco," she said once.
He looked at her.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She smiled.
"You could be the biggest name in the world and you still stop for every kid who calls your name."
He shrugged lightly.
"I was that kid once."
She squeezed his hand.
"I know."
At home, they filled the hours with things they hadn't had time for all season.
They cooked together.
Watched movies they had missed.
Sat out in the garden with Cheddar running little circles around them in bursts of energy before collapsing dramatically onto the grass like he had just run a marathon.
Sometimes they talked about football.
Sometimes they didn't.
Sometimes they talked about nothing at all.
Just comfortable silence, broken only by laughter or a passing comment about something small and ordinary.
It was exactly what Leah had wanted.
Exactly what Francesco hadn't realized how much he needed.
But by the third day…
His phone started buzzing more.
Emails.
Messages.
Notifications.
And then, that evening, a message from Jorge Mendes with a neatly structured schedule attached.
Leah saw the look on Francesco's face when he read it.
She leaned over his shoulder.
"Let me guess," she said.
He turned the phone slightly so she could see.
A full schedule.
Photoshoot — Nike HQ.
Campaign shoot — BMW London studio.
Media appearance — Coca-Cola press day.
Interviews.
Content days.
Brand meetings.
Leah let out a soft whistle.
"Okay… yeah. That's… not a quiet week."
Francesco laughed quietly.
"Nope."
She looked up at him.
"Ready?"
He thought for a second.
Then nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "I am."
She smiled.
"Then we do it together."
He looked at her.
"With you and Cheddar as my support team?"
"Always," she said.
Cheddar barked once, as if confirming his role in the operation.
The first day came quickly.
Early morning.
Richmond still quiet as the city stretched awake.
Francesco got ready in the bedroom, pulling on a clean set of training gear, tying his laces, rolling his shoulders out.
Leah sat on the edge of the bed, watching him with a small smile.
"You're in work mode already," she observed.
He glanced at her.
"Once it starts, it starts."
She stood, walking over to him, straightening his collar lightly.
"You look good," she said softly.
He smiled.
"Thank you."
Cheddar sat by the door, already alert, as if he understood they were about to go somewhere important.
"Ready, little man?" Francesco asked.
Cheddar's tail wagged furiously.
Leah laughed.
"I think that's a yes."
Outside, the car waited.
Jorge stood beside it, already on a call, one hand gesturing slightly as he spoke in Portuguese, his tone calm but efficient.
He ended the call as they approached.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," Francesco replied.
"Morning," Leah echoed.
Jorge glanced at Cheddar.
"And the full team is present."
Leah smiled.
"Of course."
They got into the car.
London passed by outside the windows as they made their way toward the Nike facility.
Inside the studio, everything was already prepared.
Lights.
Cameras.
Backdrops in Arsenal red and white.
Staff moving with practiced precision.
As Francesco stepped in, heads turned.
A few quiet murmurs of recognition.
Then the energy shifted.
"Francesco! Welcome!"
A creative director approached, hand extended.
"Congratulations on the season. Incredible."
"Thank you," Francesco replied, shaking his hand.
They moved him through the process.
Wardrobe.
Different kits.
Boots.
Angles.
Expressions.
Shots of him standing.
Running.
Smiling.
Serious.
Focused.
Victorious.
Leah and Cheddar watched from the side, seated in a small lounge area set up for them.
Every so often, Francesco would glance over.
And every time he did, Leah gave him a small thumbs up or a smile that said the same thing:
You're doing great.
During a short break, he walked over, grabbing a bottle of water.
Cheddar immediately stood up on his hind legs, paws reaching toward him.
Francesco laughed, crouching to scratch behind his ears.
"You supervising?" he asked.
Leah smiled.
"He takes his job very seriously."
Jorge approached, tablet in hand.
"Everything going smoothly," he said.
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
"Good," Jorge replied. "We move to BMW tomorroq."
Francesco exhaled.
"Of course we do."
Leah laughed softly.
"Busy boy."
The next day was even busier.
The BMW studio was sleek, modern, polished steel and glass.
Cars lined up like sculptures.
Spotlights reflecting off their curves.
Francesco arrived dressed sharp, which is casual but elegant.
A perfect fit for the brand.
They placed him beside a brand-new BMW i8.
He smiled slightly at that.
Leah nudged him.
"Your new car maybe."
He chuckled.
"Something like that."
The shoot involved driving sequences, close-ups, lifestyle shots.
Francesco leaning against the car.
Opening the door.
Looking into the distance like he had just arrived somewhere important.
At one point, the director asked him to laugh naturally.
Leah, from behind the camera, made a face.
Francesco broke into real laughter instantly.
"Perfect!" the director called. "That's the shot!"
Between takes, Jorge coordinated calls, messages, next steps.
Always moving.
Always thinking ahead.
But every time Francesco stepped away from the camera, he found Leah and Cheddar waiting.
A hand to squeeze.
A quick kiss.
A grounding moment.
It made everything easier.
The third day brought media.
Bright lights.
Microphones.
Backdrops with the Coca-Cola logo repeated behind him.
Journalists seated in rows.
Cameras rolling.
Francesco sat at the center table.
Composed.
Relaxed.
But present.
Questions came quickly.
"Back-to-back trebles, how does it feel?"
"What does this mean for your legacy?"
"What's next for you and Arsenal?"
He answered each one thoughtfully.
Respectfully.
Grounded.
"It's not just me," he said at one point. "It's the whole team. The staff. The fans. We did this together."
Leah watched from the side of the room, arms folded loosely, a soft, proud smile on her face.
Cheddar lay at her feet, surprisingly calm in the busy environment, occasionally lifting his head when Francesco's voice rose slightly during an answer.
After the session ended, Francesco stepped down from the stage.
Leah met him halfway.
"You were amazing," she said.
He smiled.
"Just honest."
"That's why it works," she replied.
⸻
The Days That Followed
And so it continued.
Day after day.
Photoshoots.
Interviews.
Brand appearances.
Meetings.
Travel across the city.
Sometimes early mornings.
Sometimes late finishes.
But always, always with the same rhythm.
Francesco stepping into the spotlight.
And then stepping back out of it into the quiet circle of Leah and Cheddar.
They were there every time.
In the car.
In the waiting rooms.
At the edge of every set.
A constant.
A reminder of what all of it was for.
At night, they returned home.
Tired.
But together.
They would collapse onto the couch, sometimes still in half their work clothes, laughing about something small from the day.
"Did you see the way that camera guy panicked when Cheddar walked into the frame?"
"He thought he was part of the shoot."
"He should be."
"He's the real star."
Cheddar would bark at that, as if agreeing.
They'd eat something simple.
Watch something light.
And slowly, the noise of the outside world would fade again.
Back to quiet.
Back to them.
A few days into the schedule, Francesco found himself standing outside one of the studios between takes, looking out over the London skyline.
Jorge stood beside him.
"You are handling this very well," Jorge said.
Francesco shrugged slightly.
"I've had good practice."
Jorge glanced at him.
"And good support."
Francesco smiled.
"Yeah," he said. "The best."
Jorge nodded.
"Remember to rest when you can," he added. "There is another season coming."
Francesco let out a small breath.
"I know."
But for now…
He allowed himself to enjoy this part too.
The recognition.
The celebration.
The moment of standing at the peak of everything he had worked for.
Because he knew it wouldn't last forever.
But the memories would.
At the end of one particularly long day, they returned home just as the sun was setting.
The sky painted in soft orange and pink.
Francesco stepped out of the car, stretching his arms overhead.
Leah stepped out behind him, Cheddar already tugging slightly at his leash, eager to run.
They walked up the path together.
Home.
Francesco opened the door.
They stepped inside.
And just like that…
The noise of the world faded away again.
Leah slipped off her shoes, dropping her bag gently by the door.
Francesco set his keys down.
Cheddar ran into the living room, doing a quick lap before collapsing onto his bed.
Leah turned to Francesco.
"Tired?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Yeah."
She smiled softly.
"Good tired?"
He thought about it.
Then nodded again.
"Good tired."
She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him.
"Then we're doing it right."
He held her there.
For a moment.
Long enough to breathe.
Long enough to remember what mattered most.
The quiet held them there for a moment longer.
Francesco kept his arms around Leah, his chin resting lightly against the top of her head, his breathing finally settling into a slower, steadier rhythm after the long stretch of days behind them.
Outside, London still moved from cars passing, people heading home, the low distant hum of a city that never truly stopped.
Inside, their world stayed small.
Simple.
Safe.
Leah's fingers curled lightly against the fabric of his shirt, her voice soft when she spoke.
"We did it," she said.
Francesco gave a small, quiet hum.
"Yeah," he replied. "We did."
Not just the season.
Not just the trophies.
But this.
This balance.
This life between the roar of the stadium and the quiet of their home.
After a few more seconds, she pulled back slightly, looking up at him with that same soft smile.
"Come on," she said. "Let's get cleaned up. You smell like studio lights and hard work."
He laughed under his breath.
"That's a new one."
"It's accurate," she replied.
He shook his head, smiling, then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before heading upstairs to shower.
The next day began before the sun fully rose.
The house was still.
No traffic yet.
No distant city noise.
Just the faint, early light filtering in through the curtains.
Francesco's eyes opened slowly.
Years of early training sessions had wired his body to wake up early, even when there was no alarm.
He lay still for a moment, adjusting to the quiet, then turned his head slightly.
Leah was still asleep beside him.
Curled slightly on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, her breathing slow and even.
Peaceful.
He watched her for a few seconds.
There was something about that stillness that always grounded him.
In a world where everything moved so fast, where every week brought new pressure, new expectations, new noise as this was the place where everything slowed down.
Where he could just be Francesco.
Not the captain.
Not the headline.
Not the brand.
Just him.
He smiled softly to himself, then leaned in gently and pressed a quiet kiss to her forehead.
She stirred just slightly, a faint smile touching her lips even in sleep, but she didn't wake.
"Sleep," he whispered softly.
He slipped carefully out of bed, making sure not to disturb her, then moved quietly across the room.
He pulled on his workout clothes from training shirt, shorts, running shoes that rolling his shoulders slightly as he adjusted to the cool morning air against his skin.
Downstairs, the house was dim and calm.
Cheddar's bed was still empty whuch likely he had wandered somewhere else during the night but the little dog was quiet, not yet awake.
Francesco grabbed his keys, a light jacket, and stepped outside.
The air outside was crisp.
Fresh.
The kind of early morning air that felt clean in your lungs.
Francesco took a deep breath, letting it fill his chest, then exhaled slowly.
He started at an easy jog, moving along the quiet roads surrounding his Richmond home.
The neighborhood was still half-asleep.
A few early risers walking dogs.
A runner or two passing in the opposite direction with a nod of recognition.
Birds just beginning their morning chorus.
Each step felt familiar.
Rhythmic.
Grounding.
His mind moved as his body did.
Through the season that had just ended.
Through the moments that still replayed in his memory.
The goals.
The tackles.
The nights under lights.
The pressure.
The relief.
The joy.
Then forward.
To what was coming.
Another season.
Another challenge.
Another chance to prove that it wasn't luck.
That it wasn't a one-time thing.
That they could do it again.
He pushed slightly faster for a stretch, his breathing deepening, muscles waking fully now.
Even in the off-season, he couldn't switch that part of himself off.
The discipline.
The routine.
The need to stay sharp.
Because he knew how quickly fitness could slip.
How quickly the body could lose its edge if you let it.
And Francesco never let it.
After a few kilometers, he slowed again, letting his breathing steady as he looped back toward home.
By the time he reached his gates again, there was a light sheen of sweat across his skin, his heart still working but calm.
He stepped inside, closing the gate behind him.
Instead of going straight back inside the house, he turned toward the private gym area at the side of the property.
It wasn't massive, but it had everything he needed.
Weights.
Resistance machines.
Cardio equipment.
A stretching area.
He stepped in, flicked on the lights, and the familiar environment wrapped around him instantly.
This was his second home during the season.
The place where small improvements were built day by day.
He grabbed a towel, wiped down his face, then moved straight into his routine.
Warm-up stretches.
Light mobility work.
Then strength.
Controlled.
Focused.
He didn't push to the point of exhaustion as this wasn't pre-season intensity, but he kept everything sharp.
Maintained.
Precise.
Squats.
Core work.
Upper body.
Each movement deliberate.
Each rep clean.
Sweat built again, his breathing steady but strong.
His mind cleared as he worked.
There was something almost meditative about it.
Just body.
Movement.
Focus.
No cameras.
No expectations.
No crowd.
Just him and the work.
After about forty-five minutes, he slowed.
Finished with a long stretch, holding each position, letting his muscles loosen.
He took a final deep breath, exhaling slowly.
Satisfied.
Maintained.
Ready.
When he stepped back into the house, the morning had shifted.
The light was brighter now, stretching through the windows and across the floor.
He could hear soft movement upstairs as Leah beginning to wake.
And…
A small set of paws tapping lightly across the floor.
Cheddar.
The little dog came trotting into the hallway, ears perked, tail already wagging excitedly at the sight of him.
"Well, good morning to you too," Francesco said, crouching slightly.
Cheddar immediately trotted over, nudging his hand, then looking up expectantly.
Francesco laughed.
"Hungry, are we?"
Cheddar's tail wagged even faster.
"Alright, alright."
He walked into the kitchen, Cheddar following closely at his heels.
He opened the cupboard, took out the dog food, and poured a measured portion into Cheddar's bowl.
The little dog barely waited for the bowl to hit the floor before starting to eat enthusiastically.
Francesco shook his head, smiling.
"Someone's had a busy morning already."
With Cheddar happily occupied, Francesco turned his attention to the kitchen.
He moved with easy familiarity.
Cracking eggs into a bowl.
Slicing vegetables.
Setting a pan on the stove.
A bit of olive oil.
The soft sizzle as it heated.
He whisked the eggs lightly, adding a pinch of salt and pepper, then poured them into the pan.
The smell of cooking food slowly filled the room.
Warm.
Comforting.
He toasted bread.
Sliced some fruit.
Prepared coffee.
It was simple.
But it was theirs.
A small routine that belonged only to them.
As he focused on the pan, gently moving the eggs, he didn't notice the quiet footsteps behind him at first.
Soft.
Careful.
Leah.
She had woken, noticed he wasn't there, followed the faint sounds and smells down the stairs.
She paused in the doorway for a second, just watching him.
Hair slightly messy from sleep.
Barefoot.
Still half-wrapped in the calm of the morning.
A small smile formed on her lips.
Then she walked forward quietly and slipped her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek lightly against his upper back.
Francesco froze for half a second, surprised, then laughed softly.
"Hey—"
He turned his head slightly.
"You shouldn't hug me right now," he said with a grin. "I'm full of sweat."
Leah didn't let go.
"I don't care," she mumbled lightly against him.
He chuckled.
"Your loss."
She smiled, tightening her arms just slightly for a second before finally pulling back.
"Smells good," she said, glancing at the pan.
"Breakfast," he replied.
She leaned against the counter beside him, watching him finish cooking.
"You went for a run?" she asked.
"And the gym," he added.
She raised an eyebrow.
"Already?"
He shrugged lightly.
"Can't switch it off completely."
She nodded.
"I know."
There was no judgment in her tone.
Just understanding.
Because she knew that part of him from the drive, the discipline was part of what made him who he was.
And she loved him for it.
He plated the food, setting two plates on the table.
"Come on," he said. "Eat before it gets cold."
They sat together.
Morning sunlight streaming across the table.
Cheddar finished his food and trotted over, settling near their feet.
Leah took a bite, smiling softly.
"Okay," she said. "This is good."
Francesco gave a small nod.
"High praise."
She nudged his foot under the table.
"Don't get used to it."
He laughed.
They ate slowly.
Talking quietly about the day ahead.
About the next few commitments.
About maybe, later in the week, finding one full day to just switch everything off again.
A small plan.
A shared understanding.
And as they sat there, in the warmth of their kitchen, sunlight around them, Cheddar at their feet, the noise of the outside world still held at a distance for just a little while longer.
Francesco felt it again.
That same quiet certainty that had settled in his chest the night before.
The trophies.
The titles.
The history they had written.
All of it mattered.
But this…
This was what made it worth it.
This was what he protected.
This was what he fought for.
Every run.
Every match.
Every sacrifice.
All of it led back here.
To this table.
To this home.
To her.
And as Leah reached across the table and laced her fingers with his for just a second, smiling at him in that soft, knowing way she hadz
He knew, without a single doubt that no matter how loud the world outside became
They would always find their way back to this quiet.
The quiet lingered between them for a few seconds more after their fingers had intertwined across the table.
Leah's thumb brushed lightly over the back of his hand once before she let go, her smile still soft, still carrying that same calm certainty that had been building between them since the moment the season ended.
Francesco held that feeling for a second longer.
Then he exhaled gently and leaned back in his chair.
"Alright," he said lightly. "Before this turns into a two-hour breakfast."
Leah laughed under her breath.
"Which we absolutely could do."
"Easily," he agreed.
Cheddar, hearing the shift in their voices, lifted his head from the floor, ears perked, tail tapping softly against the tile as if he knew something was about to happen.
Leah glanced down at him.
"Oh, look at that," she teased. "He thinks it's playtime again."
Francesco smirked.
"He always thinks it's playtime."
Cheddar barked once, a small, happy sound that made Leah laugh again.
"Alright, come on," she said, pushing her chair back and standing. "Let's clean up before he decides to redecorate the kitchen."
They moved into that easy rhythm again, the one that came so naturally to them.
Francesco gathered the plates.
Leah carried the mugs to the sink.
The water ran warm, steam rising lightly as she rinsed the dishes while Francesco stood beside her, drying each one and placing it back in its place.
There was no rush.
No urgency.
Just quiet movement, soft conversation drifting between them.
"Do you have anything this afternoon?" Leah asked, glancing over her shoulder slightly.
Francesco shook his head.
"No. Jorge said tomorrow's the next shoot."
She nodded.
"Good."
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Good?"
She smiled, that playful glint returning to her eyes.
"Because that means," she said, nudging him lightly with her elbow, "we still get one more proper free morning."
He considered that for half a second.
Then smiled.
"Yeah," he said. "We do."
They finished the dishes, the kitchen settling back into its clean, calm state.
Francesco placed the last plate into the cupboard and closed it gently.
Leah dried her hands on a small towel and set it aside.
For a moment, they both just stood there again.
The house quiet.
Sunlight warming the room.
Cheddar padding around their feet.
Leah glanced toward the back doors, where the garden and the pool lay beyond the glass.
A small smile formed.
"Pool?" she suggested.
Francesco followed her gaze.
The water outside caught the sunlight, small ripples shimmering softly.
He rolled his shoulders once, feeling the pleasant after-workout looseness still in his muscles.
"Yeah," he said. "That sounds perfect."
Cheddar barked again, louder this time, as if he had somehow understood.
Leah laughed.
"Looks like someone agrees."
They stepped outside together.
The morning had warmed slightly now, the crisp edge of earlier giving way to a gentle, comfortable temperature.
The garden around them was quiet and private, bordered by hedges and trees that shielded them from the outside world.
Birds moved between branches.
Leaves rustled softly in the light breeze.
The pool stretched out ahead of them, clear and still.
Francesco slipped off his shirt as he walked, tossing it lightly onto one of the lounge chairs.
Leah kicked off her sandals, stepping onto the warm stone with a small, satisfied sigh.
Cheddar trotted ahead, stopping at the edge of the pool and peering into the water curiously, his head tilting slightly.
"What do you think, little man?" Leah said, crouching down beside him. "Big day today."
Francesco raised an eyebrow.
"Big day?"
She nodded.
"Swimming lessons."
Francesco laughed.
"He's a puppy."
"Exactly," she said matter-of-factly. "Start them young."
Cheddar looked between the two of them, tail wagging uncertainly now as he sniffed at the edge of the pool.
Francesco stepped down into the water first, easing himself in slowly until he was waist-deep, then chest-deep, letting the cool water settle around him.
He let out a soft exhale.
"Okay," he said, looking back at Leah. "This is perfect."
Leah smiled, then sat down at the edge, dipping her feet in.
The water lapped gently around her ankles.
She picked Cheddar up gently, holding him close.
"You're going to be fine," she told him softly.
Cheddar blinked at her, then back at the water.
"Just don't throw him in," Francesco said, half teasing, half serious.
Leah rolled her eyes.
"I'm not throwing him in."
She slid carefully down into the pool, still holding Cheddar, letting the water rise slowly around them.
The puppy stiffened slightly at the unfamiliar sensation, his small paws tensing.
"Easy," Leah murmured. "I've got you."
Francesco moved closer, standing within arm's reach.
"Here," he said gently. "Support his belly."
Leah adjusted her hold, one hand under Cheddar's chest, the other supporting him lightly as she lowered him so his paws just touched the water.
For a second, Cheddar froze.
Then instinct kicked in.
His paws started moving.
Small, quick paddles.
Water splashing lightly around him.
Leah's face lit up instantly.
"Look at you!" she laughed. "You're swimming!"
Francesco grinned, watching the tiny, determined paddles.
"Not bad, Cheddar."
Cheddar made a small, surprised bark, continuing to paddle as Leah held him steady.
"Good boy," she encouraged softly. "That's it."
They kept it gentle.
Short.
Just a few seconds at a time.
Then she lifted him back up, holding him close as he shook slightly, tiny droplets of water flicking everywhere.
Francesco laughed as a few drops hit his face.
"Hey!"
Leah laughed too.
"He's proud of himself."
Cheddar blinked, then licked Leah's chin once, as if confirming her statement.
They tried again.
This time, Francesco moved a little further back, holding his hands out.
"Let him come to me," he suggested.
Leah nodded, lowering Cheddar again, supporting him lightly as he began to paddle.
"Come on, Cheddar," Francesco called softly.
The puppy paddled forward, small splashes marking his progress.
For a moment, it looked like he might panic but then he saw Francesco, heard his voice, and kept going.
Two small strokes.
Three.
Four.
Francesco reached out and gently supported him, lifting him back up.
"Good boy," he said, scratching behind his ears.
Leah clapped lightly.
"See? Natural."
Cheddar wagged his tail, clearly pleased with himself.
They didn't push it too far.
Just a few small rounds.
Enough for him to get used to the water.
Enough for it to feel like a game.
By the time they finished, Cheddar was no longer stiff at the edge of the pool as he was curious, stepping forward to sniff the water again as if considering another attempt.
Leah set him gently on a dry towel laid out nearby.
"There," she said. "First lesson done."
Cheddar shook himself again, then immediately flopped onto the towel, rolling onto his back in pure contentment.
Francesco leaned back against the side of the pool, watching them both with a quiet smile.
"You've created a water dog now," he said.
Leah smirked.
"Good. He'll join us next time."
Francesco laughed.
"Of course he will."
They stayed in the pool a while longer.
Just floating.
Talking quietly.
Letting the water carry the weight of the last few weeks away from their muscles.
Leah rested her arms along the edge, her chin resting lightly on them as she looked out over the garden.
"It's nice like this," she said softly.
Francesco nodded, moving closer beside her.
"Yeah," he agreed.
"No cameras," she added.
"No schedule," he said.
"No one asking for anything."
"Just us."
He glanced at her.
"And Cheddar."
She smiled.
"And Cheddar."
They fell into a comfortable silence again, the kind that had become their favorite language.
Every so often, Cheddar would lift his head from the towel, watching them, then settle again with a small sigh.
Time moved slowly.
Gently.
The sun climbed a little higher.
The air warmed.
Eventually, Francesco pushed off from the edge and swam a few slow laps, letting his body stretch out fully in the water.
Leah watched him, a small smile playing on her lips.
"You can't help yourself, can you?" she called lightly.
He turned at the end of the pool.
"What?"
"Even in the pool it's training."
He laughed.
"Light training."
She shook her head, amused.
"Of course it is."
He swam back, stopping in front of her.
"You should join me."
She raised an eyebrow.
"I am in the pool."
"You know what I mean."
She hesitated for half a second.
Then pushed off the edge, swimming beside him.
Not racing.
Not competing.
Just moving together through the water.
Side by side.
They did a few slow laps like that, occasionally bumping shoulders, laughing softly when they did.
Then they drifted back to the edge again, catching their breath.
Leah leaned her head lightly against his shoulder.
"Okay," she said. "This… this is my favorite part of the off-season."
Francesco wrapped one arm loosely around her.
"Mine too."
When they finally climbed out of the pool, the sun had warmed the stone enough that it felt comfortable under their feet.
Leah wrapped a towel around herself, then reached down to scoop Cheddar up, the little dog still half-drowsy from his earlier excitement.
"You did so well," she murmured to him, pressing a small kiss to the top of his head.
Cheddar licked her nose in response.
Francesco grabbed his own towel, drying off his hair as he looked around the garden one more time.
There was something deeply satisfying about moments like this.
Simple.
Uncomplicated.
No audience.
No expectation.
Just life.
He draped the towel over his shoulders and walked over to Leah, who was now sitting on one of the lounge chairs with Cheddar curled up in her lap.
"You tired him out," Francesco said.
Leah smiled.
"First swim lesson is exhausting."
He chuckled.
"Apparently."
She looked up at him, her expression softening again.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
He tilted his head slightly.
"For what?"
"For making space for this," she said. "For us. Even with everything else."
Francesco shook his head gently.
"There's nothing more important."
She studied him for a second, then nodded, like she believed him completely.
Because she did.
They eventually headed back into the house.
Francesco dropped his towel by the laundry basket.
Leah set Cheddar down on the rug, where he promptly stretched out and fell asleep again.
"Big day," Francesco said quietly.
Leah laughed softly.
"Very big."
They moved through the house slowly, not rushing to the next thing. As the cool air inside wrapped around them as they stepped in, a contrast to the warmth outside.
______________________________________________
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