𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓; 𝐏𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈

𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲

✩♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
❝ 𝒖𝒉 𝒐𝒉, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 ❞

The crowd at the Montjuïc is deafening, a roar of passion and anticipation filling the night. It's a packed stadium for Pedri's first match back after his injury, and the energy is contagious.

Maria and I sit in the stands, watching as the team finishes warming up. Maria is practically bouncing in her seat, craning her neck to get a better view of the players.

"There's Pablo!" she squeals, pointing toward the pitch. He's chatting with some teammates, looking relaxed but focused.

I laugh at her enthusiasm. "Mari, you literally see him every day."

"It's different when he's on the field," she says with a dramatic sigh, clutching her chest. "He's in his element."

"You mean all hot and sweaty?" I quirk an eyebrow at her as she nudges me with her elbow. "I thought it was obvious what I meant."

I chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief as she gives me a look. "Besides, don't act like you don't like it when Pedri's all hot and sweaty."

"Oh, I do," I reply, my cheeks warm slightly at the sight of him as she laughs. "I know you so well, Bells."

The match begins, and Barça takes control almost immediately. The ball moves fluidly across the pitch, and it's impossible not to get caught up in the rhythm of the game. Every tackle, every pass, every shot keeps us on the edge of our seats.

Pedri is brilliant per usual, orchestrating plays like he never missed a beat. He moves with such ease, his presence commanding, doing it so effortlessly it seems somewhat easy.

Maria is laser-focused on Pablo, her face lighting up every time he touches the ball. I catch myself watching Pedri more than I'd like to admit, my heart skipping every time he makes a sharp turn or a precise pass.

"He's good," I mutter to myself, though Maria hears me. "Pedri?" she asks as I nod. "I know. It's like he wasn't out for a month."

"Yeah," I mumble, watching Pedri attentively, even when the ball isn't even between his feet.

As the match progresses, Barça gets closer and closer to scoring. Then it happens—Pablo gets the ball, dribbles past a defender, and launches a perfect shot into the back of the net.

The stadium erupts, and Maria is on her feet, screaming his name. He runs to the corner to celebrate, pointing directly at Maria in the stands before making a heart with his hands.

She turns to me, grinning from ear to ear as I smile affectionately at the two. "Did you see that? That was for me!" She exclaims happily.

"Yeah, Mari. I think the whole stadium saw it," I reply, laughing as she hugs me—a way of expressing her happiness.

Soon after, the game ends with a decisive Barça win, and the players leave the field to thunderous applause.

Maria and I linger in the stands, soaking in the atmosphere. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I frown as I see that it's a text from Pedri.

He literally just went inside.

Pedri

Wait for me outside
I'll drive you home
Traffic's insane after matches
and I know you hate it

Bella
Alright
I'll be at the players' entrance:)

I smile to myself as I step outside the stadium, the air is cool, and the sound of chanting fans fills the night.