𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓; 𝐏𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈

𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻

✩♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
❝ 𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒊𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 ❞

⌞ PEDRI'S POV ⌝

We're about fifteen minutes into training, and the sun's already pushing down on us. Pablo and I are paired together for today's drill, and he's giving me this smug look as I jog up to him.

As we're mid-drill, passing the ball back and forth in rhythmic strides, I notice Pablo's got this sly, sideways grin plastered across his face, like he's barely holding something back.

He's also been quieter than usual all morning, but the way he's grinning now, I know something's up.

"Alright, spill." I say, keeping my voice low as we line up for the passing drill. "Why are you so chirpy today?"

He shrugs, trying to look casual, but there's a spark in his eyes. "Nothing, man. Just... thinking about last night."

"Yeah?" I raise an eyebrow, nudging him with my shoulder. "You mean thinking about Maria?"

His ears turn red, but he quickly regains his footing, shooting me a look. "We were just having fun, man. She's funny."

"Right," I drawl, shaking my head. "Just having fun, huh? So, you didn't mind when she cheered extra loud every time you hit a strike?"

He laughs under his breath, a little too awkwardly. "I mean, she did it for everyone."

"No, she didn't. And you were on my team, not hers." I can't hold back a grin, feeling more entertained by his reactions than I expected.

Pablo scratches the back of his neck, his face turning pink. "She was just being supportive, okay? That's what friends do."

"Right." I chuckle. "Friends."

He lets out a defeated sigh, still not quite meeting my gaze. "Well... I mean, maybe it's more than that. I just... I dunno, she's different."

There it is.

"Oh, really?" I draw out the words, pressing him. "What exactly is different about her?"

He's quiet for a moment, fiddling with his shoelace. "I don't know. She just... gets me, I guess? Like, I don't have to explain myself around her. She's just fun and... pretty."

I watch him closely, a grin spreading across my face as I realize that Pablo's in deeper than he'll admit. "Fun and pretty? Just say you like her man." I chuckle, trying to keep my tone casual.

He sighs in defeat, "alright, you got me," he finally mutters, voice dropping as he glances around to make sure none of the coaches are paying attention.

"Maybe I like her. A little." He rubs the back of his neck, staring down at his cleats.

"A little?" I repeat, raising an eyebrow. "It didn't look 'a little' last night — or any other night, for that matter. You never take your eyes off of her." I tease.

He lets out a sigh, giving me a look that's somewhere between annoyed and embarrassed. "Fine, maybe it's more than a little. Happy?"

"Finally, a confession," I say, chuckling as I tap the ball toward him. "Took you long enough."

He rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile there. "You act like you're not in the same situation."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, passing the ball back.