Echoes of Glory: FC Barcelona Imagine

๋࣭⚝⭒🦈˚˖𓍢ִ๋࣭ Siempre Contigo (Ferran Torres.)

⚽

The air buzzes with excitement as you step into the private venue, decorated in shades of blue and white—Ferran’s favorite colors.

Twinkling lights hang above, casting a warm glow over the guests. It’s a night dedicated to celebrating him, and despite the laughter and chatter around you, your heart pounds in anticipation.

You’ve spent weeks planning this. Not just the surprise party, but the gift. Something personal, something only you could give him.

Ferran means the world to you, and tonight, you want him to feel it.

When he finally arrives, the room erupts into cheers. He steps inside, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted shirt and dark jeans, his expression shifting from surprise to gratitude as he takes in the people who have gathered for him.

His gaze finds you almost instantly, and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his lips.

"Esto es increíble," (This is incredible) he murmurs, pulling you into a hug. "¿Fuiste tú, verdad?" (It was you, wasn’t it?)

You nod, feeling the warmth of his embrace.

"Sabes que sí." (You know it was.)

The night unfolds beautifully. Stories are shared, jokes are exchanged, and Ferran moves through the crowd, thanking everyone for being there.

But despite the festivities, his attention always seems to drift back to you—like you’re his anchor in a sea of celebration.

When the cake is brought out, the room dims, and the glow of the candles illuminates his face. He closes his eyes, makes a wish, and blows them out. The guests cheer, but his gaze remains fixed on you, as if silently telling you what his wish was.

Then comes the moment you’ve been waiting for. You take his hand and lead him outside, away from the noise, to the balcony overlooking the city lights. The cool night air swirls around you as you hand him a small, wrapped box.

"Happy birthday, Ferran," you whisper.

His fingers brush yours as he takes it, his eyes searching yours before he carefully unwraps the gift. Inside is a photo album—filled with memories you’ve collected over the years.

From the early days of friendship to quiet moments only the two of you share. Notes scribbled in the margins, little inside jokes only he would understand.

Ferran flips through the pages, his expression softening with every picture, every memory. Then he stops at the last page, where a letter is tucked into the pocket. He takes it out, unfolding it slowly.

Ferran,
No matter where life takes us, I want you to know that you will always have me. Through the victories and the losses, the laughter and the tears, I’ll be here—siempre contigo. (Always with you.)

He looks up at you, emotion flickering in his eyes.

"You have no idea how much this means to me."

You smile, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead.

"I think I do."

He exhales a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

"I don’t deserve you."

But you just reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers.

"You deserve the world, Ferran. And I’ll always be here to remind you of that."

Under the city lights, with only the stars as your witnesses, Ferran pulls you into his arms. It’s not just gratitude in his embrace—it’s something deeper, something unspoken.

Maybe tonight isn’t just about celebrating his birthday.

Maybe it’s about realizing that some gifts—like love, like you—are meant to last forever.