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Maybe it really was time to stop pushing this feeling aside, and it was the time to see if there was more to this than just friendship. And maybe—just maybe—he wasn't the only one feeling it.
Francesco sat in his car for a few more moments, gripping the steering wheel as if it could somehow ground him. His mom's words still echoed in his head.
"Feelings don't go away just because you ignore them."
He exhaled sharply and shook his head. No more overthinking. No more running in circles. He needed to see Leah—face to face. Needed to look into her eyes and figure out what this was.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he turned the key in the ignition. His Civic rumbled to life, and with one last deep breath, he pulled out of the training ground's parking lot.
The drive to Leah's house wasn't long, but it felt endless. His fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel as he ran through a hundred different scenarios in his head.
What if this was all in his head?
What if he was misreading everything?
What if she laughed?
What if she was already seeing someone?
Francesco cursed under his breath. Stop it. You'll drive yourself insane.
The streets of North London blurred past as he weaved through traffic, barely registering the familiar roads. By the time he reached Leah's neighborhood, his nerves were at an all-time high.
He pulled up in front of her house and killed the engine. For a second, he just sat there, staring at her front door.
This is a bad idea. This is a terrible idea.
But then he thought about the way she had laughed on the phone. The way she had said, "If it gets too much, just call me, alright?" Like she had known he'd need her.
And maybe, just maybe, she needed him too.
Before he lost his nerve, he pushed open the car door, got out, and walked up to the front porch. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as he pressed the doorbell.
The chime echoed inside. Footsteps followed. Then the door swung open.
Leah stood there, dressed in an oversized hoodie and leggings, her hair tied up in a messy bun. Her expression flickered with surprise before settling into amusement.
"Well, well," she said, leaning against the doorframe. "To what do I owe the honor of Arsenal's Golden Boy showing up at my doorstep unannounced?"
Francesco let out a breathy chuckle, scratching the back of his neck. "Can I come in?"
Leah's eyebrows rose slightly, but she stepped aside. "Of course."
He stepped inside, and she closed the door behind him. The house smelled like vanilla candles and something faintly floral—her usual scent. It was familiar, comforting.
She motioned toward the living room. "Take a seat. Want a drink?"
He shook his head. "No, I'm good."
She plopped down on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. Francesco hesitated for a moment before sitting beside her.
She studied him, head tilted. "Alright, spill. What's going on?"
Francesco took a deep breath, staring down at his hands. Now that he was here, the words felt heavier than he expected.
"I needed to talk to you. Face to face," he admitted.
Leah's expression softened. "About?"
He looked up, meeting her gaze. "That kiss."
She blinked. For a second, something flickered across her face. But then she let out a small, amused huff. "The one that caused a media meltdown?"
Francesco nodded. "Yeah. That one."
She leaned back against the couch, arms crossed. "What about it?"
"I can't stop thinking about it." The words came out before he could second-guess them.
Leah's posture stiffened. "Oh."
Francesco swallowed. "It wasn't just the media stuff. It was… more than that. At least, for me."
Leah was quiet for a moment, studying him. Then, slowly, she spoke. "What are you saying, Francesco?"
He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to be honest. "I don't know. I just know that I feel something. And I don't know if it's just because we've been close for so long or if it's… more."
Leah didn't say anything right away. She lift her knees and bury her face there, like she was thinking. Then she sighed, let her head out and said with a small smile.
"You idiot."
Francesco blinked. "What?"
She rolled her eyes. "Do you think I kissed you on a whim? Do you think I didn't know what I was doing?"
His breath hitched. "So… you—"
She said. "Francesco, I've been feeling like this for a while. But I didn't want to mess things up. And then that night, it just… happened."
His heart pounded. "And?"
She huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "And I thought maybe you'd freak out, or maybe you'd just brush it off. But then you called me all stressed, and I started thinking… what if you actually felt the same?"
Francesco let out a breathy laugh, rubbing his face and bury it into his both hands. "Jesus."
Leah smirked. "Yeah. Quite the plot twist, huh?"
He dropped his hands and looked at her—really looked at her. The way her lips curled into that teasing smile, the warmth in her eyes, the way she had always been the one of the person who can understood him better than anyone.
And suddenly, everything felt so much clearer.
He exhaled and nodded. "Yeah. It is."
Leah tilted her head and ask him. "So… what now?"
Francesco hesitated for only a second before reaching out, taking her hand in his.
"Now," he said, voice steady, "we stop ignoring it."
Leah blinked, then a slow, genuine smile spread across her face. "Finally."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. Finally."
They sat there for a moment, hands intertwined, with the pressure of the unspoken feelings finally lifted.
Francesco let out a small laugh, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of it all. They had spent so much time circling around their feelings, afraid of ruining what they had, when all along, they had been on the same page.
Still holding Leah's hand, he ran his thumb over her knuckles absentmindedly. "So," he said, his voice light but hesitant. "Do we make this official? Tell the media straight up, or…" He glanced at her with a smirk. "Do we play it backstreet?"
Leah raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Backstreet? What are we, some forbidden romance from a TV show?"
He chuckled. "You know what I mean."
She exhaled thoughtfully, biting her lip. "Honestly? I say we just let them figure it out for themselves. No big announcements or big statements. We just live our lives, and if they catch on, then so be it."
Francesco nodded, considering it. That did sound like the least stressful approach, especially with the media always looking for headlines. "So, no official Instagram posts or some public declarations?"
Leah smirked. "Nope. Just us, being us."
He laughed softly. "Fair enough. Though I reckon they'll figure it out sooner rather than later."
She shrugged, leaning her head back against the couch. "Oh, definitely. I mean, you showing up at my house late at night?" She let out a laugh. "That alone will set off a media frenzy. I bet the headlines tomorrow will be wild."
Francesco groaned playfully. "Great. Just what I need."
She nudged him with her foot. "Hey, you're the one who decided to come here unannounced."
"Yeah, yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, I should head back to my apartment. I'm exhausted after training."
Leah nodded in understanding. "Yeah, you look like you're about to pass out."
He scoffed. "Wow. Thanks."
She grinned. "Anytime."
With a sigh, he got up, stretching a little. Leah followed him to the door, her steps light, but there was something in the air between them now—something different, like a pressure that inside their minds are gone.
They stepped onto her porch, the cool night air brushing against them. Francesco took a deep breath, staring at the quiet street for a moment before turning back to her.
She was looking at him, that small, knowing smile on her lips, the kind that made his stomach flip.
Before he could stop himself, before he could overthink it like he always did, Francesco stepped forward and pulled her into a hug.
Leah hesitated for a brief second before melting into it, her arms wrapping around him. She smelled like vanilla and something uniquely her. He closed his eyes, letting himself just exist in this moment.
When he pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on her waist, he met her eyes. There he saw something there—something warm.
And then, without thinking, without planning, Francesco leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn't rushed or hesitant, but it was slow and certain. Like a quiet confession in itself.
Leah's breath hitched, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she kissed him back, her fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as she pressed closer.
For a moment, the world outside didn't exist. No media, no football, no headlines. Just them.
When they finally pulled apart, Leah exhaled softly, her forehead resting against his. "Well," she murmured, her lips quirking into a smile, "that's one way to say goodnight."
Francesco chuckled, his fingers brushing against her cheek. "Yeah. Guess it is."
She shook her head, laughing lightly. "Go home, Francesco. Before you do something even more reckless."
He smirked. "Too late for that."
She rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the fondness in her gaze.
He took a reluctant step back, letting his hands drop from her waist. "I'll see you soon."
Leah nodded. "Yeah. Soon."
With one last glance, Francesco turned and walked back to his car, his heart still pounding in his chest.
As he drove away, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Maybe this had been inevitable all along.
Francesco woke up feeling unusually well-rested, despite the emotional whirlwind of the night before. For the first time in since yesterday, his mind wasn't occupied by doubts or what-ifs. There was a strange but welcome sense of peace in finally acknowledging what had always been there.
After a long, hot shower, he threw on a loose T-shirt and some sweats, making his way to the kitchen. He poured himself a bowl of cereal, absentmindedly stirring the spoon around as he let his thoughts drift back to last night—Leah's teasing smirk, the way she had melted into his arms, the way her lips had felt against his.
A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Yeah. It had been inevitable.
He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, flipping through channels until he landed on a sports news broadcast. He wasn't really paying attention at first, just listening to the background noise as he ate. But then—
BREAKING NEWS: REAL PROOF THAT ARSENAL'S GOLDEN BOY AND GOLDEN GIRL ARE IN LOVE!
Francesco nearly choked on his cereal.
The screen was plastered with photos—grainy but clear enough to be damning. One showed him arriving at Leah's house late at night. Another captured them hugging on her porch. And then, the final shot—the most incriminating one of all—him kissing her.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," he groaned, rubbing his face.
The news anchor's voice was practically gleeful as she broke down the "scandal."
"Fans had been speculating for since yesterday scandal of both of them broke out, but last night, we finally got undeniable proof! Francesco Lee and Leah Williamson were spotted sharing a romantic moment outside Leah's home. Could this be the power couple football never knew it needed?"
Francesco groaned again, slumping back into the couch. He knew the media would jump on this the second they got any real evidence, but he hadn't expected it to happen this fast. And of course, it had to be The Sun leading the charge.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table. Still rubbing his eyes, he reached for it and unlocked the screen.
A new message from Leah.
Told you 😉❤️
Francesco let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. He should've known she'd find this hilarious.
He typed back:
'You're enjoying this way too much.'
Almost instantly, she replied:
'Oh, absolutely. Watching you go into full meltdown mode? Best entertainment I've had in weeks.'
Francesco rolled his eyes, smirking.
And type back. 'Glad I could amuse you. But this is gonna be a nightmare, you know that, right?'
She type back. 'Eh. We knew it was coming. Now we just get to sit back and watch the chaos unfold.'
He exhaled, staring at the TV again. She had a point. There was no stopping this train now.
Then he replied. 'Alright, fine. But if I get hounded at training today, I'm blaming you.'
She text back. 'Please. Like you weren't the one who showed up at my house looking all dramatic.'
Then he replied. 'It was a necessary visit.'
She type back. 'Sure, Mr. Necessary. See you later. Try not to die from all the teasing you're about to get.😂😂😂'
Francesco laughed, shaking his head as he put his phone down. He had no doubt that training was going to be hell. His teammates were going to eat this up.
With a resigned sigh, he finished his cereal, grabbed his keys, and headed out the door.
As expected, the moment Francesco walked into the changing room, everyone turned to look at him. And then, the wolf whistles started.
"Oi, lover boy's here!" Chamberlain called out, grinning.
"Should we start bowing?" Ramsey added. "Our very own Prince Charming has arrived."
Francesco sighed, dropping his bag at his locker. "Get it out of your system now."
"Oh, we will." Chambers smirked, holding up his phone. "Mate, you dominated the headlines this morning."
Francesco didn't even need to look. He already knew.
"Man," Bellerin shook his head, grinning. "You really had to make it official in the most dramatic way possible, huh?"
Francesco rolled his eyes. "I didn't do anything. The press just can't mind their own business."
"Oh, come on, you showed up at her house at night," Chamberlain said, leaning back on the bench. "That's practically a rom-com move."
"I just needed to talk to her," Francesco defended himself, pulling his jersey over his head.
Per Mertesacker who silents suddenly said while smirked. "And then you kissed her."
Francesco exhaled, closing his locker a little too hard. "Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious."
The room erupted in laughter.
"Hey, I respect it," Koscielny said, nudging him. "Football's golden couple. You and Leah are gonna break the internet for weeks."
"Great. Exactly what I wanted," Francesco muttered, pulling on his boots.
The teasing continued all the way onto the pitch. Every time he tried to focus on drills, someone made a comment.
At one point, Arsene Wenger walked past and clapped him on the back. "So, do we need to add 'love life management' to your training schedule?"
Francesco groaned. "Not you too, boss."
Wenger just laughed and walked off. When Francesco saw the back of Wenger as he leave, Francesco knew that this will be a very long day and this will be one of them.
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Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 16 (2014)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : None
Match Played: 26
Goal: 31
Assist: 12
MOTM: 8