Frida Maanum x Reader- Late Nights Revelations

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The soft hum of the stadium lights cast a warm glow over the empty pitch, where you found yourself sitting on the cool grass. It was well past midnight, the kind of hour where the world felt both quiet and infinite. The team had wrapped up their training session hours ago, but for some reason, you found it difficult to leave.

You weren't alone in your late-night musings. Frida Maanum, Arsenal's charismatic midfielder, had a habit of staying late, perfecting her game and savouring solitude. You often saw her from afar, focused and determined. Tonight, however, she had joined you, the silence between you filled with a comfortable familiarity.

"You don't have to stay just because I'm here, you know," Frida finally said, breaking the silence with a soft chuckle. She stretched her legs out in front of her, the grass tickling her ankles.

You smiled, glancing at her. "And miss this? It's not every night I get to share the pitch with a superstar like you."

Frida rolled her eyes, but her grin betrayed her amusement. "Superstar, huh? What about you, though? You've got your own fan club at the games."

It was true. Your work with the team had made you a familiar face among the fans and players alike. Whether it was coordinating events or managing media, you were always in the thick of things, ensuring everything ran smoothly. But it was the quiet moments, like these, that made you feel most connected to the team.

Frida leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows, looking up at the star-filled sky. "I like it out here, you know? The silence. Gives me space to think."

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words. "I get that. It's peaceful. Makes everything seem... simpler."

She glanced at you, her eyes reflecting the soft lights. "What keeps you up this late?"

You shrugged, unsure how to put your feelings into words. "I guess... it's just hard to switch off sometimes. There's always something to think about, something to plan."

Frida smiled knowingly. "Sounds like you need a break as much as I do."

There was a pause, comfortable and companionable. Frida's presence had a calming effect, and you found yourself relaxing, the day's stresses melting away.

"Do you ever feel like you're missing out?" you asked, surprising yourself with the question.

Frida turned to you, curiosity in her eyes. "On what?"

"On... I don't know. Normal life stuff. Going out, sleeping in, not worrying about the next match or event."

She considered this, her gaze drifting back to the sky. "Sometimes, yeah. But then I think about how lucky we are, to do what we love. And it makes it all worth it."

You nodded, understanding. "You're right. It's just... nice to know that someone else feels the same way."

Frida smiled, a warm, genuine smile that reached her eyes. "You're not alone in that. We all have our moments."

The conversation lapsed into silence once more, but this time it felt different. Lighter, somehow. Frida stood up, brushing off her shorts before offering you a hand.

"Come on," she said, pulling you to your feet. "Let's do a lap around the pitch. Clear our heads."

You laughed, the sound echoing in the stillness. "Alright, but don't go easy on me just because it's late."

Frida grinned, a competitive gleam in her eye. "Wouldn't dream of it."

As you jogged side by side, the night air cool against your skin, you felt a sense of contentment. It wasn't just the physical activity or the crisp night air. It was the connection, the shared understanding. At that moment, it didn't matter that it was late or that there were early mornings and busy schedules ahead. What mattered was the camaraderie, the shared experience, and the knowledge that, in this late-night moment, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As you reached the end of the lap, breathless but grinning, Frida turned to you, her expression serious for a moment. "You know, if you ever need to talk or just hang out, I'm here. We all are."

You felt a warmth in your chest at her words, grateful for the friendship that had grown between you. "Thanks, Frida. That means a lot."

She shrugged, her smile turning playful again. "Anytime. Just don't expect me to let you win at anything."

You laughed, the sound carrying into the night. "Wouldn't dream of it."

As you both made your way off the pitch, the stadium lights dimming behind you, you realised that these late-night moments, these quiet conversations, were just as important as the matches and the fans. They were the glue that held everything together, the reminders that, no matter how hectic life got, there was always a place for friendship and connection.

And as Frida walked beside you, talking about plans for the weekend, you knew that these moments would be the ones you cherished most of all.

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