Echoes of Glory: FC Barcelona Imagine

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ The Cuts That Always Bleed (Héctor Fort.)

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It’s funny how life can change in a single glance. That’s how it started with you and Héctor.

At first, it was all innocent—just another passing encounter with someone from the same circle, a fleeting moment in the chaos of your days.

But those moments started to stretch out, the conversations lasting longer than expected, the silences between you less awkward. It was always so natural with him.

But something inside you kept pushing against it, a voice that told you not to get too attached. You told yourself that nothing good ever came from falling for someone who wasn’t looking back at you the way you hoped.

He’d never feel the same. He was a star in his own world, and you were just a shadow that followed, quietly admiring from afar.

Still, you couldn’t help but find yourself thinking about him—wondering about his laugh, the way his eyes seemed to light up when he talked about his passion for football, the way he always seemed so driven and focused.

Everything about him made you feel something you didn’t fully understand, like you were falling into something deeper than you should.

You kept your distance, telling yourself it was better this way. You were just friends, nothing more. But as time went on, the line between friendship and something more began to blur.

You’d catch yourself glancing at him longer than necessary, your heart skipping a beat when he was near. Every text from him, every small interaction, seemed to twist your insides in ways you didn’t know how to handle.

But Héctor? He was the same. Always kind, always attentive, always treating you like you were someone important. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t see you the way you saw him.

You’d catch him laughing with others, his smile widening in a way that made your chest tighten. You weren’t the one making him laugh like that. It was a simple truth, but it hurt more than you cared to admit.

Then there was that night.

You had been sitting on the steps outside the café, lost in your thoughts, when he appeared, as if he had been waiting for a sign. He smiled at you, that familiar warmth filling his gaze, and for a moment, you felt like the world had paused.

But as he sat beside you, there was something different about the way he looked at you—almost as if he was seeing you for the first time. It was a gaze you couldn’t decipher, one that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Héctor,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and sincere.

You nodded, but the words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat. It was like every time you tried to express what was inside, something held you back. The fear of rejection, the uncertainty of what would happen next if you told him the truth.

But Héctor, always intuitive, seemed to sense the weight in the air.

“Y/N,” he said softly, “you don’t have to hide anything from me. You’ve always been someone I could trust.”

And there it was. That lingering feeling of something more, something deeper, hanging between the two of you.

“I…” You paused, struggling with the weight of your emotions.

“I just… I think I’ve always liked you more than I should.”

The words hung in the air like a confession, a truth too raw to ignore. Héctor remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on you, not in pity, but in something else—something that felt too complicated to define.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly.

“But I think I’m not the one for you.”

And those words, though softly spoken, felt like a blade to your heart. You had known, deep down, that it was never meant to be. But hearing him say it out loud was different. It made it real. It made the cuts that had been bleeding inside you feel deeper.

You nodded, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over, though you wiped them away quickly.

"I knew. I just... I just had to say it. I don’t want to keep pretending I’m fine when I’m not.”

He reached out, his hand brushing yours in a gesture of comfort, his touch warm and understanding.

“You’re incredible, Y/N. Don’t ever think you’re not worth someone’s love. You deserve someone who will see you the way you deserve to be seen.”

The tears kept coming, but you didn’t pull away. His words, though painful, felt like a bittersweet relief. It was the closure you needed, even if it hurt more than you thought it would.

Months later...

Things had changed, but the pain you had felt wasn’t as sharp anymore. You had learned how to carry it, how to smile through the days without feeling like there was a part of you missing.

Héctor had remained a friend, a constant in your life, and slowly, the sting of unrequited love faded into something more manageable.

One afternoon, as you sat at your favorite spot, sipping coffee, you felt someone approach. It was Héctor, as always, smiling at you with that familiar warmth.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, sitting down beside you.

“I’m good,” you replied, offering a smile of your own.

“Better, actually.”

His eyes softened as he gazed at you.

“I’m glad to hear that. You deserve happiness.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you. You didn’t need him to say anything more.

You knew, in that moment, that the cuts would always bleed—no matter how long it took—but they didn’t define you. You were whole on your own, and that was enough.

And with that, the two of you shared a quiet understanding, a bond that was no longer tangled in unspoken feelings.

You could be friends, not bound by what was never meant to be, but by what had grown from it.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the happiest ending of all.