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Y/n leaned forward on the bleachers, chin in her hands, watching Floyd weave through his teammates on the basketball court with that signature blend of chaotic energy and skill. The gym was loud with the sounds of sneakers squeaking and balls bouncing, but all her attention was focused on him. Floyd was in his element, a wild force darting across the court, his grin wide and mischievous as he taunted the other players.
She didn't think he'd noticed her yet, but then—just as he stole the ball from a teammate—he glanced up and caught her eye. A broad grin spread across his face as he waved, practically beaming with excitement.
"Y/N!" he shouted, so loud that everyone else on the court turned to look.
Jamil, the team's unofficial captain, let out an annoyed groan. "Floyd, get back in position! This isn't a meet-and-greet."
But Floyd just shrugged, dribbling the ball lazily. "Chill out, Jamil. Gotta say hi to my girl!" He threw her a wink, making Y/n blush as the other players muttered under their breath.
Ace, who was just as fed up with Floyd's antics, rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Y'know, Floyd, if you're gonna flirt, could you do it after practice?"
Floyd ignored them both, dribbling the ball down the court with exaggerated moves, as if he were putting on a show just for her. And maybe he was, she thought with a smile—he always seemed to have a little extra swagger when he knew she was watching.
With one last, dramatic spin, Floyd shot the ball into the hoop, scoring easily. He threw his arms up in a triumphant gesture, and then, without warning, he jogged right off the court, heading toward the bleachers. Y/n's eyes widened as he made a beeline straight for her, leaving his teammates standing in stunned silence.
"Floyd!" Jamil called after him, frustration clear in his voice. "You can't just walk out in the middle of practice!"
But Floyd waved a dismissive hand over his shoulder, completely unfazed. "Eh, I'll be back in a sec. Besides, Shrimpy's waiting for me!"
Jamil sighed, rubbing his temples, and Ace threw up his hands in exasperation. "Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head. "This guy's got zero chill."
Meanwhile, Floyd had reached the bleachers and was now standing right in front of Y/n, a playful grin lighting up his face. "Hey, Shrimpy," he said, leaning over the railing and giving her a wink. "Miss me?"
Y/n couldn't help but laugh, cheeks flushing. "Floyd. You're supposed to be practicing!"
"Practice is boring without you here," he said, pouting dramatically. Then, without any warning, he hopped up onto the bleachers beside her and threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "Besides, I need a little break—and some motivation. Watching you makes it way more fun."
"Good," he replied, completely unbothered as he squeezed her tighter. "Let 'em stare. They should be jealous I've got the cutest girl in the stands cheering for me."
Her heart fluttered, but she could feel Ace and Jamil's annoyed stares from the court, both looking ready to explode.
"Floyd, get back here!" Jamil's voice cut through the gym, his patience clearly worn thin. "If you don't, Coach Vargas is going to make us run laps for the rest of practice!"
"Yeah, we'll be running thanks to you," Ace added, crossing his arms and glaring. "So could you maybe save the flirting for later?"
Floyd just laughed, tightening his hold around Y/n's shoulders and nuzzling her cheek in an exaggerated gesture that made her giggle despite herself. "But I can't leave my little Shrimpy hangin'!" he called back to them, his grin widening. "She came all this way to watch me. Ain't that right?"
Y/n stifled a laugh, torn between embarrassment and delight. "Well, yeah, but...I don't want you getting in trouble, Floyd."
He shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "Eh, it's worth it. Besides, trouble's more fun, don'tcha think?"
Just then, Coach Vargas blew the whistle, and Jamil shot Floyd a pleading look. "Please, just get back here before he makes us run the entire practice."
With a dramatic sigh, Floyd finally released Y/n and gave her a lopsided grin. "Guess I gotta get back. But you better keep cheering for me, okay? I'll play way better if I know you're watching."
She smiled, giving his hand a quick squeeze. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here."
He seemed satisfied with that answer, his grin softening just a bit as he gave her one last lingering look before jogging back onto the court. As he rejoined his teammates, Jamil gave him a death glare, and Ace shook his head, muttering something under his breath about "lovesick idiots."
"Hey, don't be so salty," Floyd teased as he passed them, throwing a sly glance Y/n's way. "You're just jealous 'cause nobody's cheering for you two."
Jamil rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just focus on the game, Floyd."
With a wink in Y/n's direction, Floyd turned his attention back to the scrimmage. But every so often, he'd glance up at her, shooting her quick smiles or giving her a thumbs-up whenever he made a particularly good play. And every time, her heart would skip a little faster, feeling like she was part of his world, like every move he made was somehow for her.
As the game went on, Ace nudged Jamil with an exasperated look. "You think he's gonna pull that stunt every practice now?"
Jamil sighed, his gaze following Floyd as he darted down the court with a little extra flair. "Probably," he replied, shaking his head with a resigned smile. "But at least he's not getting mood swings... even if he's totally hopeless."
From her spot on the bleachers, Y/n just laughed, watching Floyd play with all his chaotic energy and realizing that, as ridiculous as he could be, she wouldn't have him any other way.
