𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝟎𝟒

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄, 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃, 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐋𝐄, it started with that necklace.

he'd worn it that morning, half out of habit, half because it made him feel... something. like he wasn't so far from the past. from her, from their past together.

but he'd forgotten it was media day, cameras flashing, squad photos being taken, and training tight tops that hugged a bit too close. now the silver glint of the cursive "L" was sitting right there, peeking from beneath his collar like it had something to say.

and unfortunately for him, the entire team seemed fluent in the language of mockery.

"oi, hendo!" andrew robertson shouted across the pitch mid-warmup, voice thick with his glaswegian bite, "your shirt's slippin', mate, wouldn't want that fancy necklace distractin' the defenders now, would we?"

jordan groaned inwardly and tugged the collar of his training top higher, attempting to stuff the chain underneath it without drawing more attention.

too late.

"oh hendo," james milner chimed in, trotting past with a grin stretched across his face, "don't hide it now, lad ... you were flauntin' it earlier like it were part of the new kit."

jordan shot him a flat look. "you lot need to grow up."

"grow up?" robbo repeated with exaggerated offence. "mate, you've got a love pendant round your neck like it's year 10 at a school disco. what's next? gonna get her name tattooed across your knuckles?"

"better idea," harvey elliott added cheekily, sidling up next to them. "we all get matching ones. j and l. stands for 'just love', yeah?"

"stands for 'leave hendo alone,'" jordan muttered under his breath.

but the banter wasn't stopping there.

trent, not one to miss a beat, jogged over and pointed at the necklace like it was exhibit a. "who's L then, skip? come on, give us a story. i bet it's some secret agent type. exotic, mysterious, sends love letters by pigeon."

that made curtis snort. "nah, mate, she prob'ly dumped him years ago an' he's still wearin' it for sentimental value."

jordan shook his head, jaw tight but not angry, not really. just... defensive. "you lot talk more than sky sports transfer deadline day."

"yeah but we actually get our info right," milner said with a wink. "and our sources say L might stand for... lost love?"

"leave it, milly," jordan grumbled, though his ears were burning.

"leave it?" robbo smirked. "you're the one out here wearin' her round your neck like a talisman."

"honestly," virgil called out from across the pitch, arms folded, "if you all spent half as much time marking your man as you do discussing necklaces, maybe we wouldn't have drawn last week."