Echoes of Glory: FC Barcelona Imagine

๋࣭ ⋅˚₊‧ ଳ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 7PM (Alejandro Balde.)

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You checked the time on your phone, a nervous flutter in your chest as the clock struck seven.

Alejandro's text had been simple yet filled with anticipation: "Come meet me at seven."

You wondered what this evening held in store.

It wasn't often that he was this mysterious. With a deep breath, you headed out, heart pounding with a mix of excitement and curiosity.

As you arrived at Alejandro's doorstep, he greeted you with a smile that instantly melted away any lingering nervousness.

His place felt warm and inviting, filled with soft lighting and the faint aroma of dinner cooking.

"I'm glad you made it," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement.

You settled in comfortably, chatting about everything and nothing, laughter punctuating the air as you reminisced about shared memories.

Alejandro had always been good at making you feel at ease, his presence calming yet electrifying at the same time. He poured a couple of glasses of wine, the conversation flowing effortlessly as the hours slipped by unnoticed.

At seven in his house, you found yourselves in the cozy living room, surrounded by soft music playing in the background.

Alejandro suddenly grabbed your hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Let's sing," he suggested, pulling you towards the makeshift karaoke setup he had prepared.

You couldn't resist his infectious enthusiasm, and soon enough, you were belting out tunes together, not caring about pitch or lyrics, just reveling in the joy of the moment.

Time seemed to stretch and bend, each passing moment feeling like a treasure as you danced under the moonlight streaming through the windows.

Alejandro's hand on your waist was warm and steady, guiding you with a familiarity that spoke of unspoken connections and shared experiences.

The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you caught in a dance that felt like a lifetime in itself.

It had been a long day, a hectic week even, but none of it mattered now.

In Alejandro's embrace, everything felt right, as if the universe had conspired to bring you together at this exact moment.

As the clock approached eleven, neither of you made a move to end the evening. Instead, you lingered, savoring the closeness and the quiet understanding that had grown between you.

As the night wore on, words became unnecessary. There was a comfort in the silence, in the way your fingers intertwined with his, in the way his gaze held yours with unwavering sincerity.

This, you realized, was what heaven must feel like — a perfect harmony of hearts beating in sync, of souls connecting in the quietude of a shared moment.

At seven, when you had arrived at his door, you couldn't have predicted how this evening would unfold.

Yet now, as the clock ticked towards midnight and Alejandro's eyes met yours with an unspoken promise, you knew that this night had woven itself into the fabric of your memories, a cherished chapter in the story of your lives intertwined.