By the time Leo got back to his apartment, the match adrenaline had almost completely faded.
He hated to admit it, but all that was pressing on his shoulders was a lot heavier than what he could deal with that day.
Leo sighed heavily, then bent down to untie his shoes.
He kicked them off near the entrance, picked them up again a second later and placed them where they belonged.
Then he walked further inside and there, the matchday duffel bag came off his shoulder and was left beside the cabinet.
His jacket followed, then his keys and then the rest of his stuff routinely.
Leo eventually made his way into the bedroom and dropped onto the bed without bothering to change.
He stared at the ceiling and then brought his phone to his side before he lifted it above his face and unlocked the screen.
There were hundreds of notifications, notifications he'd learned to tune out and ignore, but almost out of habit, Leo opened Twitter.
