If you want to read 20 Chapters ahead and more, be sure to check out my P-Tang12!!!
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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The road stretched on, with sun climbed higher. And ahead of them, Brighton awaited.
The motorway stretched ahead in long, smooth ribbons of grey, cutting through patches of countryside that slowly replaced the tighter rhythm of the city. Trees lined parts of the road, their early summer leaves glowing in the sunlight. Every now and then the landscape opened up into wide green fields dotted with sheep, quiet farmhouses sitting far back from the road like they were watching the world pass without ever needing to join it.
Inside the car, it felt like its own small world.
Leah had kicked off her shoes and tucked one leg slightly under the other, sitting sideways just enough that she could half-face Francesco while still looking out the window. Her sunglasses rested low on her nose, and every now and then she'd glance at him over the top of them with that playful, relaxed expression that always made his chest feel lighter.
Cheddar had fully committed to the window seat in the back. His nose pressed against the glass, leaving tiny smudges that Leah would definitely comment on later. His ears twitched at every passing truck. Every change in sound. Every shift in speed.
Francesco adjusted the music slightly, turning it down when they started talking, raising it when they fell into silence. Nothing loud. Nothing dramatic. Just something steady in the background.
About an hour into the drive, Leah shifted slightly in her seat.
"Okay," she said thoughtfully, stretching her arms above her head. "I might need a coffee."
Francesco glanced at the dashboard clock.
"Yeah?"
She nodded. "And I think someone in the back might need a little leg stretch too."
As if on cue, Cheddar let out a soft little whine and pawed lightly at the back of her seat.
Francesco chuckled. "Perfect timing."
He signaled gently, easing the car toward the next rest area signposted ahead.
The first stop wasn't glamorous.
Just a motorway service station.
But it felt like part of the adventure.
He parked carefully, cutting the engine as the car settled into stillness. The sudden quiet after the hum of the motorway made everything feel sharper. More present.
Leah unbuckled immediately and twisted around to look at Cheddar.
"Alright, holiday boy," she said softly. "Stretch time."
They stepped out into the open air, which carried that faint mix of petrol and fresh breeze that every motorway stop seemed to have. Cheddar hopped down carefully from the back seat, leash clipped on, and immediately started trotting around with excited curiosity.
Francesco locked the car and watched as Leah crouched slightly to let Cheddar sniff around the small grassy area designated for pets.
The sunlight caught her hair again.
He noticed that a lot lately.
Maybe he always had.
But lately he noticed it more.
She looked up at him and smiled.
"You okay?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Yeah."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, teasing.
"You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?"
"The quiet smile thing."
He laughed softly. "Can't I just be happy?"
Her expression softened instantly.
"You can," she said gently. "You should."
They walked a slow circle around the small patch of green, Cheddar investigating every corner like it was a brand new continent. A couple of other travelers passed by with their own dogs, offering polite smiles. One older couple paused briefly.
"Beautiful pup," the woman said warmly.
"Thank you," Leah replied, pride unmistakable in her voice.
Francesco stood slightly back during those moments, letting Leah soak in the attention. He liked seeing her like that. Relaxed. Unrecognized. Not rushed.
After Cheddar had burned off some energy, they headed inside the service station together. Leah grabbed coffees. Francesco picked up a couple of bottles of water and some snacks.
When they returned to the car, Leah handed him his coffee before climbing back into the passenger seat.
"To Brighton," she said lightly, lifting her cup.
He smiled and gently tapped his bottle against it.
"To Brighton."
The drive resumed.
The motorway slowly shifted in scenery. More signs for coastal towns began appearing. The sky felt bigger somehow, wider. Lighter.
They talked about small things.
About what they might do first when they arrived.
About walking along the pier.
About finding a seafood place for dinner.
At one point Leah pulled out her phone and turned slightly toward him.
"I found a place we might like for dinner," she said.
"Oh?"
"Sea view. Fresh seafood. Not too formal."
He smiled. "Sounds perfect."
Another hour passed.
Cheddar, once energetic again, eventually settled back down onto his blanket, his earlier excitement giving way to the gentle rhythm of the road.
About thirty minutes later, Francesco felt a small tug of tiredness in his eyes.
"Another stop?" Leah asked quietly, noticing the subtle shift.
He nodded. "Yeah. Just a quick one."
The second rest area was quieter. Smaller. Surrounded by more trees.
This time, they didn't even go inside. They just stepped out for fresh air.
Leah leaned against the side of the car, stretching her arms up and back, her spine arching slightly.
Francesco walked a few paces away, looking out toward the tree line, hands on his hips, breathing in deeply.
The air felt different now.
Fresher.
Less heavy.
He turned back toward her.
"You excited?" he asked.
She smiled slowly.
"More than I thought I'd be."
He walked back over to her, standing close but not touching.
"Good."
She looked at him, studying him quietly for a second.
"You needed this," she said softly.
He didn't deflect it.
Didn't joke.
Just nodded.
"Yeah," he admitted.
They stood there for another minute, just letting the quiet settle over them.
Then Cheddar barked once from the back seat.
Leah laughed.
"Okay, okay. We're going."
Back into the car.
Seatbelts clicked.
Engine hummed back to life.
And the final stretch began.
As they approached Brighton, the landscape shifted again.
More houses.
More signs.
More movement.
And then.
A glimpse of blue in the distance.
The sea.
Leah leaned forward slightly in her seat.
"There it is," she said softly.
Francesco smiled.
"Yeah."
The road dipped slightly as they moved closer into town, buildings growing more colorful, more character-filled. Cafés with painted fronts. Independent shops with quirky signs. People walking along the pavements with ice creams already in hand.
Brighton felt alive.
But not overwhelming.
Just… vibrant.
Francesco drove steadily through the town, following the route he'd mapped earlier.
Eventually, he slowed slightly.
"There," he said.
Ahead of them stood the elegant white façade of A Room With A View hotel.
Overlooking the sea.
Classic architecture.
Large windows reflecting the afternoon sun.
Leah's eyes widened slightly.
"Wow," she breathed.
Francesco felt a small, satisfied smile form.
"You like it?"
She turned to him, almost laughing.
"Like it? It's beautiful."
He pulled smoothly into the driveway area at the front of the hotel. Almost immediately, a bellboy stepped forward with a polite smile, opening the passenger door for Leah.
"Welcome," he said warmly.
"Thank you," Leah replied, stepping out gracefully.
Francesco stepped out as well, walking around the car as the bellboy moved toward the trunk.
"I'll take your luggage, sir," the bellboy said.
"Appreciate it," Francesco replied, unlocking the trunk.
The suitcases were lifted out carefully, one by one.
Another staff member approached, valet.
"Good afternoon, sir. I'll park the vehicle for you."
Francesco glanced at the BMW X5 for just a brief second before nodding. He handed over the key without hesitation.
"Thank you."
He watched as the valet slid into the driver's seat and drove it smoothly away.
Leah stepped closer to him, Cheddar now in her arms.
"You went all out," she murmured softly.
He looked down at her.
"Week and a half," he said. "Might as well do it properly."
She smiled at that.
The bellboy gestured politely toward the entrance.
"If you'd like to follow me."
They stepped inside together.
The lobby was calm and elegant. Soft lighting. Polished floors. A faint scent of something floral in the air. Large windows letting in natural light from the sea-facing side.
It felt… peaceful.
Not flashy.
Just refined.
The bellboy set the luggage down gently near the reception desk.
Francesco stepped forward slightly as the receptionist looked up with a professional smile.
"Good afternoon. Welcome to A Room With A View. How may I assist you?"
Francesco rested one hand lightly on the counter.
"Good afternoon. I'd like to open the Presidential Suite for a week and a half."
There was a subtle shift in the receptionist's expression. Not surprise exactly, just recognition of the request.
"Of course, sir," she said smoothly. "May I have your name?"
"Francesco Lee."
Leah stood quietly beside him, her hand resting lightly against his back, Cheddar calm in her arms.
The receptionist typed something quickly into the system, then nodded politely.
"Yes, Mr. Lee. The Presidential Suite is available. For ten nights?"
"A week and a half," he confirmed with a small nod.
"Wonderful. We'll arrange everything immediately."
Leah glanced up at him again, her eyes soft.
This wasn't about the suite.
Not really.
It was about the time.
The space.
The choice to pause.
As the paperwork began, Francesco signed calmly, unhurried.
The bellboy waited nearby with their luggage.
Outside, beyond the tall windows, the sea shimmered under the afternoon sun.
They had arrived.
Brighton stretched out before them.
The receptionist's fingers moved quickly across the keyboard, the quiet clicking blending into the soft hum of the lobby. A printer whirred somewhere behind the desk. Outside, through the tall windows, the sea glinted in the afternoon light like scattered glass.
Francesco signed the final page with steady handwriting.
"There we are," the receptionist said with a polite smile as she slid two keycards across the counter. "The Presidential Suite is on the top floor. Our bellboy will take you up. If there's anything you need during your stay, please don't hesitate to call."
"Thank you," Francesco replied.
Leah gave a warm nod. "Thanks."
Cheddar shifted in her arms, nose twitching as if he could already smell the ocean from inside.
The bellboy stepped forward again, efficient but relaxed.
"Right this way, sir. Ma'am."
He picked up the luggage effortlessly, stacking the suitcases onto a polished trolley with practiced ease. Francesco automatically reached to take one himself, but the bellboy smiled politely.
"Please, allow me."
Francesco hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "Thank you."
They followed him across the lobby.
The floor reflected their movement in soft, blurred shapes. A couple seated near the window glanced up briefly, curiosity flickering across their faces before returning to their quiet conversation. The atmosphere wasn't loud or bustling as it was calm, composed, like everyone inside had collectively agreed to slow down.
At the end of the hall stood the elevator with polished doors, brass trim catching the light.
The bellboy pressed the button, and within seconds the doors opened with a gentle chime.
They stepped inside together.
The space was intimate but comfortable. The trolley rolled in first. Leah stepped in next, Cheddar still in her arms, his head poking over her elbow as he scanned the new surroundings with alert interest. Francesco followed, the doors sliding shut with a soft whisper.
The bellboy pressed the top floor button.
There was a brief pause.
Then the elevator began its smooth ascent.
Francesco felt that small, subtle shift in his stomach as they rose. He glanced sideways at Leah. She was watching the numbers light up one by one, her expression somewhere between excitement and disbelief.
"You okay?" he murmured quietly.
She smiled without looking at him. "Yeah. Just… taking it in."
He reached for her free hand and squeezed it gently.
The elevator hummed softly as it climbed.
Cheddar let out a small sniff, then wriggled slightly, clearly wanting down.
Leah lowered him carefully to the floor, leash still clipped, just in case. The second his paws touched the elevator carpet, he began sniffing intensely at the corners, investigating every inch like it held secrets.
The bellboy chuckled softly. "First visit to Brighton?"
"For him, yes," Leah said with a grin.
"And for us too, actually," Francesco added.
"Then you've picked a lovely week for it," the bellboy replied. "Weather's meant to stay clear."
The elevator slowed gently.
A soft chime.
The doors slid open to reveal a quiet hallway bathed in warm natural light.
The top floor.
The carpet here was thicker, softer underfoot. The walls decorated with subtle coastal artwork from muted blues, sandy tones, abstract waves. Large windows at the end of the corridor allowed sunlight to pour in, illuminating everything with that unmistakable seaside brightness.
Cheddar stepped out first, tail wagging cautiously, nose low to the ground.
Leah followed, then Francesco.
The bellboy guided the trolley down the hall, stopping in front of a large double door at the very end that slightly set apart from the others.
He inserted one of the keycards, waited for the soft green light, and gently pushed the door open.
"Welcome to the Presidential Suite."
The door swung inward.
For a brief second, none of them stepped inside.
They just looked.
The suite opened into a wide, airy living space flooded with light from floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the sea like a painting. Soft neutral furniture. A large sectional sofa facing a sleek fireplace. A dining table set near the windows. Elegant but comfortable.
It didn't feel cold or overly formal.
It felt like somewhere you could actually live for a while.
Leah stepped inside first, her breath catching slightly.
"Oh," she whispered.
Francesco followed her in slowly, taking it all in.
To the right, a spacious bedroom visible through open double doors from king-sized bed dressed in crisp white linen, soft throws folded neatly at the foot. To the left, a hallway leading toward what was likely the bathroom and walk-in wardrobe.
And straight ahead.
Glass doors.
Leading to a private balcony overlooking the sea.
Cheddar wasted no time.
The second the leash unclipped, he darted forward into the suite, paws skidding slightly on the polished wood floor before adjusting. He sniffed the sofa. The coffee table. The edge of the rug. Every corner.
Leah laughed softly. "Someone's doing a full inspection."
Francesco smiled.
The bellboy rolled the luggage inside carefully, placing it near the bedroom entrance.
"If there's anything else you require, sir…"
Francesco reached into his pocket without hesitation and pulled out his wallet. He counted quickly, then handed the bellboy a crisp £100 note.
The young man's eyes widened just slightly before he composed himself.
"Thank you very much, sir."
Francesco nodded once. "Thank you."
The bellboy gave a final polite smile, then quietly exited, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
Silence settled in the suite.
Not empty silence.
Just… space.
Leah stood in the center of the living area slowly turning in a full circle, taking in every detail.
"This is insane," she said under her breath.
Francesco exhaled softly, his shoulders dropping in a way they hadn't all day.
"It's nice," he admitted.
"Nice?" She looked at him like he was ridiculous. "Francesco, this is—"
She gestured helplessly toward the windows, toward the view beyond them.
He chuckled. "Okay. It's more than nice."
Cheddar's nails clicked lightly as he trotted from room to room. A small bark echoed faintly when he discovered the bedroom. Then a soft thud as he jumped experimentally onto the edge of the rug.
Leah walked toward the balcony doors without saying anything else.
Francesco followed.
She slid the glass doors open.
Immediately, the sound reached them.
The sea.
Not loud.
Not crashing.
Just steady waves rolling in and out, rhythmically brushing against the shore below.
And the smell.
Salt.
Fresh air.
Sun-warmed stone.
They stepped out onto the balcony together.
The view stretched wide and endless.
Brighton's coastline curved gently in the distance. The pier stood proud against the water. People moved like tiny figures along the promenade below. The sky above was a vast, uninterrupted blue.
Leah rested her hands on the railing.
"Oh my God," she breathed.
Francesco stepped up beside her.
The breeze moved through his hair, cooler than inland air but comforting.
He looked at her instead of the view at first.
The sunlight hit her face.
Her eyes bright.
Soft.
"This is exactly what we needed," she said quietly.
He nodded.
"Yeah."
For a moment they didn't speak.
They just stood there.
Letting the sound of the waves fill the quiet spaces in their heads.
Behind them, Cheddar emerged onto the balcony cautiously, paws stepping carefully onto the new surface. He sniffed along the edges, tail wagging steadily, clearly thrilled by this entirely new sensory world.
Leah laughed softly as he attempted to peer through the railing.
"Careful, little man," she murmured, gently scooping him up before he got too curious.
He wriggled in her arms but settled quickly, nose still twitching at the salty breeze.
Francesco rested one forearm on the railing, looking out over the horizon now.
There was something about the sea that made everything else feel smaller.
Deadlines.
Expectations.
Headlines.
Noise.
Out here, it was just waves and sky and the steady rhythm of something older than everything else.
Leah leaned lightly into him, still holding Cheddar.
"You did good," she said quietly.
He glanced at her. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "This was the right choice."
He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
"I wanted somewhere we could breathe."
She looked up at him.
"We can."
He pressed a soft kiss to her temple.
Behind them, the suite remained open and bright, sunlight spilling across the living room floor. Their suitcases waiting to be unpacked. Ten nights stretching ahead like the sea in front of them that wide, open, unwritten.
Cheddar gave a small excited bark at something below which maybe a seagull, maybe a passing dog then buried his nose briefly into Leah's shoulder.
She laughed.
"He's going to love the beach."
Francesco smiled.
"So are we."
They stayed on the balcony longer than they meant to.
Talking softly.
Pointing things out.
Watching the movement below.
Eventually, Leah turned back toward the room.
"Okay," she said, a spark of energy returning. "Let's unpack a little. Then maybe we go for a walk before dinner?"
Francesco nodded easily.
"Perfect."
They stepped back inside together, sliding the balcony doors closed behind them, though leaving them slightly open to let the sea air drift in.
Cheddar immediately resumed his exploration with sniffing the bedroom doorway, investigating the bathroom tiles, discovering his reflection in one of the mirrored closet doors and tilting his head at it in confusion.
Leah laughed so hard she had to lean against the wall.
Francesco stood there for a second, just watching both of them.
This.
This was what the week was about.
Not the suite.
Not the luxury.
But this exact moment.
Leah barefoot on polished wood floors, laughing freely.
Cheddar discovering a new world.
The sea whispering just beyond the glass.
He walked toward the bedroom and picked up one of the suitcases, setting it gently on the luggage stand.
"Alright," he said lightly. "Let's make this place ours for a while."
Leah smiled at him from across the room.
"Yeah," she said softly.
Leah's soft yeah lingered in the air for a second before she clapped her hands together once, gently, like she was waking the room up.
"Okay," she said, looking around with mock seriousness. "Operation: move in."
Francesco laughed under his breath and unzipped the first suitcase.
The sound of the zipper felt strangely satisfying, like the official start of something. Not just a trip. A pause. A chapter.
Leah dragged her suitcase toward the bedroom, dropping onto her knees beside it and flipping it open in one smooth motion. Clothes folded carefully inside. A pair of sandals tucked into the corner. Her toiletries bag wedged neatly between summer dresses.
Cheddar immediately abandoned the mirrored wardrobe and rushed over, nose diving straight into Leah's suitcase.
"Oi!" she laughed, gently nudging him back. "Those are clean."
He ignored her entirely, snuffling deeper as if convinced there were secrets hidden beneath the cotton and linen.
Francesco shook his head, pulling out his own shirts one by one and hanging them in the wardrobe. The walk-in closet was almost as big as the bedroom back at the mansion in Richmond. He paused for a second at that thought.
At home, there were schedules. Assistants. Training times. Media calls.
Here, it was just him folding T-shirts while Leah argued playfully with a corgi.
He glanced over his shoulder.
She had one knee tucked under her, hair falling slightly over her face as she leaned forward to rescue a sundress from Cheddar's determined paws.
"You realize he thinks this is his holiday too," Francesco said.
Leah grinned without looking up. "It is his holiday."
Cheddar gave a tiny triumphant bark as if confirming it.
They unpacked slowly. Not rushed. Not methodical. Just… casually placing things where they felt right.
Leah lined up her skincare products along the bathroom counter, admiring the marble surface.
"Okay, this bathroom is ridiculous," she called out.
Francesco walked in behind her and stopped.
She wasn't exaggerating.
A freestanding bathtub positioned near a frosted window. A rainfall shower enclosed in glass. Twin sinks. Thick white towels folded perfectly on a heated rack.
"This might be bigger than our first flat," he muttered.
Leah turned and pointed at the bathtub. "We are absolutely using that."
He smirked. "Yes, ma'am."
Cheddar trotted in behind them and immediately began investigating the bathmat like it was a suspicious new creature.
Leah bent down, scratching behind his ears. "You're not allowed in the bath."
He tilted his head at her like he was offended by the suggestion.
An hour later, the suitcases were empty.
Clothes hung neatly. Shoes lined up. Toiletries arranged. Their chargers plugged in. Leah's hairbrush placed casually on the dresser. Francesco's watch resting on the bedside table.
It didn't look like a hotel suite anymore.
It looked like them.
Leah stepped back into the living room and flopped onto the sofa dramatically.
"Okay," she declared. "I'm claiming five minutes of doing absolutely nothing."
Francesco joined her, sitting beside her and stretching his legs out in front of him.
Cheddar climbed onto the rug in front of them and immediately rolled onto his back, paws in the air.
Leah laughed. "He's thriving."
Francesco reached down and rubbed the dog's belly absentmindedly.
"Good," he murmured.
Silence settled for a moment.
The soft sound of waves filtering through the slightly open balcony door.
A gull crying somewhere outside.
Leah shifted her head, resting it lightly against his shoulder.
"You feel it?" she asked quietly.
"What?"
"The quiet."
He exhaled slowly.
"Yeah."
They stayed like that for a few more minutes before Leah lifted her head again.
"Okay," she said. "Bath. Then dinner. I'm starving."
Francesco stood first, offering her a hand up.
"Ladies first."
She raised an eyebrow. "You just want extra time deciding what to wear."
"Not true," he protested. "I already know."
"Oh?"
"Matching."
Her smile widened. "Matching?"
"Yeah."
She pretended to think about it for a second.
"Fine. But if we're doing matching, we're committing."
He laughed. "Deal."
They decided to shower instead of the bath for now, saving the tub for later in the week.
The warm water washed away the last trace of motorway fatigue. The hum of the road. The stiffness in their shoulders.
When Francesco stepped back into the bedroom wrapped in a towel, Leah was already half dressed, hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders.
She had chosen a light cream linen set with relaxed trousers and a matching blouse that moved effortlessly when she walked.
He whistled softly.
She turned slowly, pretending to model. "Too much?"
"Not enough," he replied honestly.
He pulled on a fitted white shirt and light beige trousers, casual but clean. Simple. Effortless. They stood side by side in front of the mirror.
Cream and white.
Soft tones.
Unplanned, but perfect.
Leah smiled at their reflection. "We look like we planned this."
"We did plan it."
"Five minutes ago doesn't count."
Cheddar sat behind them on the bed, watching like he was supervising.
Leah crouched down to clip his leash back on gently.
"You're not coming to dinner tonight," she told him softly. "But we'll bring you leftovers."
His ears perked at the word leftovers.
Francesco bent down and kissed the top of Leah's head.
"Ready?"
She nodded.
They took one last glance around the suite before heading for the door.
Lights off.
Keycards in hand.
Cheddar settled comfortably in his travel bed near the window, already half-dozing.
Francesco locked the door behind them.
The hallway felt quieter now. Evening light spilling through the windows at the end of the corridor, tinged slightly golden as the sun began to dip.
They walked side by side toward the elevator.
Leah reached for his hand without looking at him.
He intertwined their fingers naturally.
The elevator arrived quickly.
They stepped inside alone this time.
The doors closed.
A brief moment of reflection in the mirrored walls, just the two of them standing close together.
"You nervous?" Leah asked softly.
"For dinner?"
"For… being you."
He smirked lightly. "You mean being recognizable?"
She nodded.
He shrugged gently. "It's fine."
The elevator descended smoothly.
Floor numbers lighting down one by one.
The doors opened to the lobby.
At first, nothing felt different.
A couple checking in. A family sitting on the lounge chairs. Two elderly women chatting near the window.
They stepped out.
And then.
It shifted.
Subtle at first.
A double take from a man near the entrance.
A whisper between two teenage boys standing beside the reception desk.
One of them stared a little longer.
Francesco felt it before he heard it.
"Wait… that's him."
"Is it?"
"No, that's—"
"Mate, that's Francesco Lee."
Leah squeezed his hand slightly.
The receptionist from earlier looked up.
Her expression froze for half a second before lighting up with recognition.
"Oh my—"
She quickly composed herself, but it was too late.
One of the teenagers approached first.
"Sorry," he said breathlessly. "Are you—"
Francesco smiled politely. "Yeah."
The boy's face went red instantly.
"Oh my God. Can I get a picture?"
And that was it.
The dam broke.
Within seconds, whispers turned into movement.
More guests turning around.
Phones appearing.
Another voice from behind.
"Francesco! Arsenal superstar!"
Someone else: "England's number nine!"
Leah stepped slightly closer to him, calm but aware.
Francesco didn't tense.
Didn't step back.
He just smiled.
"Of course," he said, nodding to the first boy.
They took a quick selfie.
Then another person stepped forward.
Then another.
A middle-aged man holding a Brighton guidebook asked him to sign the back of it.
A young woman nervously handed over her Arsenal shirt.
"Could you sign this for my brother?"
"Sure," he replied warmly.
Hotel staff began hovering nearby that trying to keep order but clearly excited themselves.
One of the bellboys whispered to another, eyes wide.
"That's actually him."
The receptionist stepped forward carefully.
"Mr. Lee, if you'd prefer more privacy—"
He shook his head gently. "It's alright."
Leah watched him with a soft expression.
He wasn't annoyed.
Wasn't frustrated.
Just present.
Present in the way he was with fans after matches.
Patient.
Kind.
One of the hotel staff members, a young waitress, approached shyly.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," she said, almost whispering. "But… my dad's a massive Arsenal supporter. Could I maybe get a photo?"
Francesco smiled. "Of course."
She nearly bounced with excitement.
Soon even some of the older tourists joined in.
An elderly gentleman shook his hand firmly.
"You've given us some brilliant nights, son."
"Thank you," Francesco replied sincerely.
Leah stood slightly to the side but never too far. Occasionally someone would recognize her too.
"Wait… aren't you—"
She'd smile politely, confirming with a nod.
A few fans asked for a photo with both of them.
They obliged.
Arsenal and England's superstar.
And his partner.
After about fifteen minutes, the restaurant manager gently stepped forward.
"Mr. Lee, your table is ready."
It took another five minutes to carefully move through the crowd.
More quick selfies.
More signatures.
More thank yous.
Finally, they reached the entrance to the hotel restaurant.
Applause broke out softly from a group near the bar.
Francesco laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Alright, alright," he said modestly.
Inside the restaurant, the atmosphere was warm and elegant.
They were guided to a table near the window.
As they sat down, Leah leaned in close.
"You handled that well."
He shrugged gently.
"It's part of it."
She studied him for a second.
"You didn't look overwhelmed."
He met her gaze.
"I'm not. Not when you're here."
She smiled at that.
Menus were placed in front of them.
They ordered seafood which a grilled sea bass for him, and lobster linguine for her. A bottle of chilled white wine.
But even as they tried to settle into dinner, it continued.
Guests walking past their table with polite smiles.
A couple approaching gently between courses.
"Sorry, just one quick photo?"
Francesco stood up each time.
Signed shirts.
Signed napkins.
Signed a hotel brochure.
Even two members of the kitchen staff came out during a lull, wiping their hands nervously on aprons.
"Once in a lifetime," one of them admitted sheepishly.
Francesco shook their hands.
Took the photo.
Leah laughed softly as he returned to his seat again.
"You're going to lose your voice at this rate."
He grinned. "Good thing I don't sing."
By the time their main courses arrived, the commotion had softened.
People returned to their tables.
The initial excitement settling into something more respectful.
Francesco picked up his fork finally.
Leah raised her glass toward him.
"To Brighton," she said again, softer this time.
He clinked his glass gently against hers.
"To Brighton."
Outside the window, the sky shifted toward sunset.
The sea reflecting streaks of orange and pink.
Inside, the buzz of conversation returned to normal.
And for the first time since stepping into the lobby, it felt like just dinner.
Just them.
But every now and then, someone would glance over.
Smile.
Whisper.
Because once in a while, a hotel restaurant in Brighton got to say that Arsenal and England's superstar had eaten there.
______________________________________________
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