Friday, October 28, 2022

Demien's Apartment, Bergamo

1:15 PM

Demien's heart was still hammering against his ribs, and his breathing came faster than it should while the adrenaline coursed through his system, and when recognition finally kicked in completely—Sophia, not an intruder, just Sophia—the umbrella clattered from his hand and hit the floor with a dull sound that echoed in the small entryway.

He didn't think.

Just moved forward.

His arms wrapped around her before his brain caught up to his body, and he pulled her into a tight hug while his face buried against her neck, and the familiar scent of her perfume mixed with something floral cut through the lingering panic that had been flooding his chest moments earlier.

Then he kissed her.

Not gentle or tentative but immediate and relieved, his lips finding hers while his hands pressed against her back to pull her closer, and she melted into it without hesitation because this was familiar territory between them, and when they finally broke apart his forehead stayed pressed against hers while he tried to catch his breath properly.

"Why are you here?" he asked, and his voice came out rougher than intended while disbelief mixed with happiness in his chest. "I thought—when did you—"

"I was free," Sophia said simply, and her smile was genuine while her hands rested on his shoulders. "And I missed you. So I flew back to Bergamo to see you."

Her tone was casual, like flying across the country on a whim was the most natural thing in the world, and Demien stared at her for a moment while processing the statement because most people didn't just fly back to surprise someone on a Friday afternoon.

She tilted her head slightly, and her smile shifted into something more teasing. "What, you didn't miss me too?"

"I did," Demien said immediately, and the words came without hesitation while he pulled her back into another embrace and kissed her again, slower this time but just as genuine. "I really did miss you."

Sophia's smile widened at that, and satisfaction flickered across her expression while the playful edge softened into something warmer, and she kissed him once more before stepping back slightly though her hands stayed on his arms.

"Good answer," she said.

The tension from the match week—the Fiorentina pressure, the Inter preparation, the tactical sessions that had run through his mind constantly—finally started fading as Demien looked at her standing in his apartment with that familiar confidence, and his shoulders relaxed properly for the first time in days.

"Have you eaten?" Sophia asked, and her eyes scanned his face with the kind of attention that suggested she already knew the answer.

"Not yet," Demien admitted. "I was going to make something when I got back, but then you decided to give me a heart attack instead."

She laughed at that, bright and unapologetic. "Well, lucky for you, I already ordered Chinese food and fruit drinks. Should be here in about twenty minutes."

Demien kissed her again, quick and grateful, and when he pulled back his voice was softer. "I love you."

"I know," she replied, and her smile was warm while her thumb brushed against his jaw. "Now go take a bath before the food gets here. You smell like training."

"That bad?"

"Not terrible. But you'll feel better after a shower."

"Don't waste the water waiting for me," he said, and she laughed again before pushing him gently toward the bathroom.

"I won't. Now go."

Demien grabbed fresh clothes from his bedroom—black shorts and a simple grey t-shirt—and headed to the bathroom while the hot water started running, and when he stepped under the spray the heat worked into muscles that were still tight from Thursday's intense session, and he let the pressure wash away the accumulated fatigue while his mind finally stopped racing through tactical adjustments and defensive positioning.

Friday, October 28, 2022

Demien's Apartment, Bergamo

1:58 PM

By the time Demien emerged from the bathroom roughly forty minutes later, his hair was still damp and his body felt loose in the way it only did after proper recovery, and when he walked into the living room the smell of Chinese food hit him immediately—sweet and savory mixing together in a way that made his stomach remind him he'd skipped lunch completely.

Sophia had arranged everything on the small coffee table in front of the couch—white takeout containers still steaming slightly, two bottles of mango juice sweating condensation, chopsticks and napkins laid out with the kind of casual efficiency that came from someone comfortable in the space.

She looked up when he entered, and her smile was relaxed while she patted the cushion beside her. "Feel better?"

"Much better," Demien said, and he sat down close enough that their shoulders touched while reaching for one of the containers. "What did you get?"

"Fried rice, sweet and sour chicken, beef with broccoli, spring rolls," she listed while opening containers. "I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I just ordered a bunch of things."

"Perfect," he said, and they began eating together without formality—sharing food directly from containers, leaning into each other naturally, the conversation flowing easily about nothing particularly important.

Sophia told him about her flight back, how she'd managed to book a last-minute ticket Thursday night after finishing her photoshoot in Milan, and how she'd spent the morning shopping for groceries before coming to his apartment because she'd wanted to surprise him properly.

Demien talked about training, about Gasperini's tactical breakdown of Inter and Bolu Marino's defensive positioning, though he kept it light because match preparation wasn't particularly romantic dinner conversation, and Sophia listened anyway while stealing pieces of chicken from his container.

The apartment felt different with her there.

Quieter but fuller somehow, the kind of domestic comfort that came from being around someone who didn't require performance or constant conversation, and Demien found himself relaxing completely for the first time since Sunday's Fiorentina match as they ate slowly and let the afternoon stretch out without urgency.

Sophia's phone buzzed against the table, vibrating twice in quick succession, and she glanced at the screen before her expression shifted slightly—not concerned exactly, but thoughtful in a way that suggested the message required actual attention rather than casual acknowledgment.

Demien noticed immediately. "Who's texting you?"

"Just a friend," Sophia said, and she picked up her phone while setting down her chopsticks. "Give me a second."

She unlocked the screen and read through the message, and Demien continued eating while watching her face peripherally because the slight crease between her eyebrows suggested the conversation was more involved than a simple greeting.

Her thumbs moved across the keyboard typing a response, and another message came through almost immediately, and Sophia's lips pressed together briefly before she typed again.

"Everything okay?" Demien asked.

"Yeah," Sophia replied, though she didn't look up from her phone yet. "It's Christabel. She's asking if I'm free tonight."

Demien made a neutral sound of acknowledgment while reaching for the beef container, and Sophia's thumbs continued moving as she typed her response.

Sophia: I'm with my boyfriend

The reply came within seconds.

Christabel: lmaooo so you really did fly back to Italy because of him

Christabel: we're going clubbing tonight you should come

Christabel: bring him too!!!

Sophia read the messages and hesitated before typing slowly.

Sophia: I'll think about it

Christabel: THINK ABOUT IT???

Christabel: girl you're always talking about this man but you never let us meet him

Christabel: at LEAST invite him so we can finally see the mysterious boyfriend

Sophia's expression shifted into something between amusement and exasperation while she typed her response.

Sophia: I'm not even sure I'm going

Sophia: and even if I do, I doubt he'd want to come since he doesn't really seem like the clubbing type

Christabel: just ASK him

Christabel: worst case he says no

Christabel: best case we finally get to meet him and you get a fun night out

Sophia stared at the screen for a moment before typing one final message.

Sophia: fine I'll try

She set her phone face-down on the table and picked up her chopsticks again, though her attention was clearly divided now, and Demien watched her while taking a drink of mango juice.

"What was that about?" he asked.

Sophia glanced at him and her expression was carefully neutral in the way it got when she was gauging how he'd react to something. "My friends want to go clubbing tonight. They were asking if I'm free."

"Ah," Demien said, and his tone stayed even while he processed the information. "Okay."

Silence settled between them for a moment, not uncomfortable exactly but weighted with unspoken question, and Sophia set down her chopsticks completely before turning to face him more directly.

"Do you like clubbing?" she asked.

Demien paused mid-reach for a spring roll, and his hand hovered briefly before he sat back against the couch while considering how to answer honestly.

"I don't really know," he said finally. "I've never been to one before."

Sophia's eyebrows rose slightly. "Never?"

"Never," Demien confirmed, and he rubbed the back of his neck while searching for the right words. "I can't really say whether I like it or not since I've never gone. Why are you asking?"

Sophia studied his face for a moment, and her expression softened while she reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. "I wanted to know if you'd like to go with me."

Demien looked at their joined hands, then back at her face, and his mind ran through the immediate logistics—training at ten in the morning, the need for proper rest before tactical work, Gasperini's expectations about preparation—but he also saw the subtle hopefulness in Sophia's expression that she was trying to hide behind casual inquiry.

"I'm fine with it," he said, though his tone carried slight hesitation. "But I have training at ten in the morning. Can't stay out too late."

"We don't have to stay long," Sophia said immediately, and her thumb brushed against his knuckles while her voice took on a reassuring quality. "I just want you there with me. And I won't make you drink alcohol—I know you have training. I just thought it might be fun for you to meet my friends, and it's been a while since either of us did something that wasn't football or work."

Demien considered this while looking at her face, at the genuine interest in her eyes that wasn't demanding but clearly hoping, and after a moment he nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said. "Yeah, I'll go."

Sophia's smile broke through completely, bright and satisfied, and she squeezed his hand once before leaning in to kiss him quickly.

"Great," she said.

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