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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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And waiting for them at the airport, as the private jet arranged by the ever-reliable Jorge Mendes that told them as their vacation had officially begun.
The road stretched ahead of them in a smooth gray ribbon, cutting through the quiet outskirts of London as the morning slowly gave way to midday.
Inside the BMW X5, the atmosphere felt different now.
Lighter.
Quieter.
There was something about leaving Cheddar behind as it safe, happy, already being spoiled that made everything feel settled.
No loose ends.
No responsibilities waiting at home.
Just the two of them.
Leah leaned back in her seat, her fingers loosely intertwined in her lap as she watched the scenery shift outside the window.
"You know," she said softly, "this feels weird."
Francesco glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road.
"Weird good or weird bad?"
She smiled faintly.
"Weird… peaceful."
He nodded slowly.
"Yeah."
There was a small pause.
Then she added, "No one calling. No one asking for anything. No schedule."
Francesco smirked slightly.
"Don't jinx it."
Leah laughed quietly.
"I'm serious."
She turned her head toward him.
"It's been a while since it felt like this."
Francesco didn't answer immediately.
He just kept driving, one hand steady on the wheel, the other resting casually near the gear shift.
But she was right.
It had been a while.
Between matches, media, expectations and everything that had just happened recently as life had felt like a constant noise.
And now?
Silence.
Not empty.
Not lonely.
Just calm.
He exhaled slowly.
"Let's enjoy it while it lasts."
Leah nodded.
"Agreed."
The car merged onto the main road leading toward the airport.
Traffic picked up slightly, but it moved smoothly.
Planes could already be seen in the distance, descending in slow, controlled arcs toward the runways.
Leah spotted one through the window.
"There's ours," she joked.
Francesco glanced up briefly.
"If it is, Jorge's really outdone himself."
She smiled.
"He probably would, to be fair."
Francesco chuckled.
"Yeah, he might."
About twenty minutes later, the airport came into full view.
Large terminals.
Glass structures reflecting the bright sky.
Aircraft lined neatly along the tarmac like giant resting birds.
Francesco followed the signs that directed them away from the crowded public terminals.
Toward a quieter, more exclusive area.
Private aviation.
The entrance to the private jet terminal was noticeably calmer.
No long queues.
No chaotic crowds dragging suitcases.
Just a few luxury vehicles parked neatly outside and a clean, modern building with tinted glass.
Francesco pulled the BMW into the designated drop-off area and turned off the engine.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Leah looked at him.
"This is it."
He nodded.
"Yeah."
Then he smiled.
"Vacation officially starts now."
They both stepped out of the car.
An attendant approached immediately, polite and efficient.
"Mr. Lee?"
Francesco nodded.
"Yes."
"We've been expecting you."
Of course they had.
Jorge had handled everything.
Francesco grabbed the luggage from the trunk while the attendant offered to assist.
Leah adjusted her bag over her shoulder and looked around.
The entire place felt quiet.
Controlled.
Almost like a different world compared to the usual airport chaos.
Inside the terminal, the atmosphere was even more relaxed.
Soft lighting.
Comfortable seating.
A reception desk with minimal activity.
No loud announcements echoing overhead.
No rushing crowds.
Just calm professionalism.
A staff member greeted them with a welcoming smile.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lee."
"Good afternoon."
"We have your flight ready."
She handed him a sleek envelope.
Inside was everything Jorge had arranged.
Tickets.
Flight details.
Departure time.
All perfectly organized.
Leah leaned slightly toward him.
"Told you. Wizard."
Francesco smirked.
"Yeah."
They moved through the check-in process quickly.
No waiting.
No complications.
Just a few confirmations, a polite exchange of smiles, and they were guided toward the private jet area.
Through a set of glass doors, the runway opened up in front of them.
And there it was.
A sleek private jet waiting quietly on the tarmac.
Clean white exterior.
Minimal markings.
Elegant.
Leah's eyes widened slightly.
"Okay, that's impressive."
Francesco shrugged casually, though even he couldn't deny it.
"Jorge doesn't do things halfway."
A crew member stood near the base of the stairs.
"Welcome aboard."
They walked across the tarmac together, the sound of their footsteps faint against the open space.
The closer they got, the more real it felt.
This wasn't just a plan anymore.
This wasn't just an idea.
They were actually doing it.
Paris.
Together.
No distractions.
No pressure.
Just them.
Leah glanced at him as they reached the stairs.
"Ready?"
Francesco met her eyes.
"Always."
They climbed aboard.
Inside, the jet was even more luxurious than expected.
Soft leather seats.
Polished wood finishes.
Warm ambient lighting.
Large windows letting in bright daylight.
Everything felt designed for comfort.
For calm.
For escape.
Leah stepped in slowly, taking it all in.
"I could get used to this."
Francesco laughed.
"Careful. You might not want to go back."
They placed their bags in the designated storage area and took their seats side by side.
The cabin door closed behind them with a soft, final sound.
A moment later, the engines began to hum.
Low at first.
Then gradually stronger.
Leah looked out the window.
"This is actually happening."
Francesco leaned back in his seat.
"Yeah."
He turned his head slightly toward her.
"No turning back now."
She smiled.
"Good."
The jet began to move.
Slowly taxiing along the runway.
The ground crew signaled.
Everything aligned.
And then.
The engines roared.
The acceleration pushed them gently back into their seats.
The runway blurred beneath them.
Faster.
Faster.
And then suddenly.
Lift.
The ground dropped away.
London shrank beneath them.
Buildings became patterns.
Roads became lines.
And within seconds, they were above it all.
Floating.
Free.
Leah let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"Wow…"
Francesco glanced out the window.
Even after all his travels, that moment never really lost its magic.
The transition.
From ground.
To sky.
From noise.
To quiet.
The jet leveled out as it climbed higher into the sky.
Clouds drifted past the windows like soft white waves.
The world below faded into distance.
And just like that, they were gone.
No headlines.
No cameras.
No expectations.
Just two people in the air, heading somewhere new.
After a few minutes, the cabin settled into a peaceful rhythm.
The hum of the engines became steady.
Almost soothing.
Leah leaned back into her seat, her posture relaxed.
"This is already better than I imagined."
Francesco smirked.
"We haven't even landed yet."
"I know."
She turned slightly toward him.
"And it already feels like we escaped."
He nodded.
"Because we did."
There was a soft movement near the front of the cabin.
A stewardess approached with a polite smile.
"Good afternoon."
Francesco and Leah both looked up.
"Welcome aboard."
"Thank you," Francesco replied.
The stewardess stood gracefully beside them.
"Can I get you anything to drink or eat?"
Leah glanced at Francesco.
He gestured toward her.
"Ladies first."
She smiled.
"Thank you."
Then she looked back at the stewardess.
"What do you have?"
The stewardess listed a range of options.
Drinks.
Fresh juices.
Coffee.
Light meals.
Snacks.
Everything tailored for comfort.
Leah considered for a moment.
"I'll start with orange juice."
"Of course."
Then the stewardess turned to Francesco.
"And for you, sir?"
Francesco leaned back slightly, thinking.
For once, there was no rush in the decision.
No schedule pushing him.
No pressure.
Just a simple choice.
Somewhere between London and Paris.
Between everything he had been through and everything waiting ahead.
He smiled slightly.
"I'll have coffee."
The stewardess nodded politely.
"Right away."
She stepped away smoothly toward the galley.
Leah leaned back again, her eyes drifting toward the window.
Clouds stretched endlessly outside.
Soft.
Bright.
Peaceful.
She exhaled slowly.
"This…"
She paused.
Then smiled.
"This was a really good idea."
Francesco looked at her.
Then out the window.
Then back again.
"Yeah."
The stewardess moved gracefully down the aisle, disappearing behind the soft partition that separated the main cabin from the galley.
For a moment, it was just the two of them again.
The quiet hum of the engines.
The soft glow of natural light pouring through the windows.
And that strange, rare feeling of having absolutely nowhere else to be.
Leah leaned her head slightly against the backrest, her eyes still fixed on the endless stretch of clouds outside.
"They look fake," she murmured.
Francesco followed her gaze.
"What?"
"The clouds," she said softly. "Like… if you told me we were just sitting in some white room and someone painted that outside the window, I'd believe you."
He smirked faintly.
"You've been watching too many movies."
"Maybe," she admitted, smiling a little.
There was a pause.
Then she added, quieter this time, "It's nice though."
Francesco didn't reply immediately.
He just watched her for a second.
There was something about the way her expression had softened, like she had finally allowed herself to relax.
No tension.
No distraction.
Just her.
And that made something in his chest settle too.
A few moments later, the gentle sound of footsteps returned.
The stewardess reappeared, carrying a polished tray with practiced ease.
"Here we are."
She placed the drinks carefully on the table between them.
A glass of fresh orange juice, the color bright and inviting.
And a cup of coffee, steam curling upward in slow, delicate spirals.
"Thank you," Leah said warmly.
"Thank you," Francesco added.
"You're very welcome," the stewardess replied before stepping back again, leaving them in their quiet space.
Leah picked up her glass first.
She took a small sip.
Then her eyes widened just slightly.
"Okay… that's actually really good."
Francesco raised an eyebrow as he picked up his coffee.
"It's orange juice."
"It's good orange juice," she corrected.
He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee.
It was strong.
Smooth.
Exactly what he needed.
He exhaled quietly.
"Not bad."
Leah leaned back again, cradling the glass lightly in her hands.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
The silence wasn't awkward.
It wasn't empty.
It was comfortable.
The kind of silence that only happens when two people don't feel the need to fill every second with words.
Francesco rested his arm along the side of his seat, his gaze drifting between Leah and the view outside.
Somewhere far below them was the world they had just left behind.
The noise.
The pressure.
The expectations.
And up here?
None of it mattered.
Leah took another sip of her drink, then glanced at him.
"You ever get used to this?"
"To what?"
"This part," she said, gesturing vaguely around them. "Flying. Traveling. Just… leaving everything behind for a bit."
Francesco thought about it.
Then shook his head slightly.
"No."
Leah tilted her head.
"No?"
"It always feels a little different," he explained. "Even if you've done it a hundred times."
She watched him closely.
"Different how?"
He looked out the window for a moment before answering.
"Sometimes it feels like work."
He glanced back at her.
"Sometimes it feels like pressure."
Then his expression softened slightly.
"And sometimes, it feels like this."
Leah smiled faintly.
"Like freedom?"
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Like freedom."
That word lingered in the air between them.
Freedom.
It sounded simple.
But for both of them, it meant more than that.
Leah leaned her head slightly to the side, resting it lightly against his shoulder.
He didn't move.
Didn't say anything.
He just let it happen.
And somehow, that made it feel even more natural.
Time passed slowly after that.
Not in a dragging way.
But in that rare, almost unfamiliar way where minutes didn't feel rushed.
Where nothing was chasing them.
Where nothing was waiting.
At some point, Leah closed her eyes for a few minutes.
Not fully asleep.
Just resting.
Her breathing slowed, steady and calm.
Francesco stayed still, careful not to disturb her.
His gaze drifted back toward the window.
Clouds continued to stretch endlessly around them.
Soft.
Bright.
Unreal.
And for once, he allowed himself to just sit there and be.
No thinking ahead.
No analyzing.
No planning.
Just existing in the moment.
An hour passed almost without them noticing.
Somewhere along the way, the light outside shifted slightly.
The angle of the sun changed.
The clouds thinned.
And gradually, the world below began to come back into view.
Fields.
Rivers.
Small clusters of buildings.
Leah stirred gently, her head lifting slightly from his shoulder.
"Did I fall asleep?"
"Not really," Francesco said with a small smile. "More like, paused."
She laughed softly.
"I'll take that."
She glanced out the window again.
And her expression changed immediately.
"Wait…"
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Is that—?"
Francesco followed her gaze.
Below them, the landscape had transformed.
The dense sprawl of a major city stretched across the horizon.
Roads weaving in intricate patterns.
Buildings packed together in that unmistakable European layout.
And in the distance it look fainr, but recognizable as the silhouette of a structure rising above everything else.
Leah leaned forward slightly, pressing closer to the window.
"That's Paris…"
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
There was something about saying it out loud.
Something about actually seeing it.
It made everything feel real again.
The captain's voice came through the cabin speakers shortly after.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we'll be beginning our descent shortly into Charles de Gaulle Airport. Local time is just past early afternoon. Weather is clear with mild temperatures. We hope you've enjoyed your flight."
Leah turned toward Francesco, her excitement clearly building.
"We're actually here."
He smiled.
"Told you."
The jet began its gradual descent.
The angle shifted slightly.
The ground slowly grew closer.
Details became sharper.
Clearer.
The Seine curved gracefully through the city like a ribbon of silver.
Bridges crossing over it at regular intervals.
Tree-lined streets.
Historic buildings.
Everything felt alive.
Leah watched it all with quiet awe.
"It's beautiful…"
Francesco glanced at her again.
"Wait until tonight."
She smiled.
"I can't wait."
The landing process was smooth.
Controlled.
The runway came into view.
Closer.
Closer.
Then.
Contact.
The wheels touched down with a soft but firm thud.
A brief rush of sound.
Then deceleration.
The jet slowed steadily as it moved along the runway before turning toward the private terminal area.
Leah exhaled softly.
"That was… easy."
Francesco chuckled.
"Private flights usually are."
The jet eventually came to a gentle stop.
The engines powered down gradually, the hum fading into silence.
And just like that, they had arrived.
Paris.
The cabin door opened shortly after.
A soft rush of fresh air entered.
Different from London.
Warmer.
Carrying that faint, distinct scent of a new city.
Leah stood up first, smoothing out her outfit slightly.
Francesco grabbed their bags.
"Ready for part two?" he asked.
She grinned.
"Always."
They stepped down onto the tarmac together.
The sunlight felt brighter here.
Warmer.
The sky stretched wide and clear above them.
For a moment, Leah just stood there, taking it all in.
Then she laughed softly.
"We're in Paris."
Francesco smiled.
"Yeah."
They moved toward the terminal, where their luggage was quickly handed over.
Everything felt just as smooth as it had back in London.
Efficient.
Seamless.
No waiting.
No stress.
Once they had everything, they made their way toward the exit.
Outside, a row of high-end vehicles lined the curb near the luxury cab stand.
Leah adjusted her bag on her shoulder, glancing around.
"This place feels different already."
Francesco nodded.
"It is."
He stepped forward and approached one of the attendants.
"Taxi to Four Seasons Hotel George V, please."
The attendant nodded immediately.
"Of course, sir."
Within moments, a sleek black luxury cab pulled up smoothly in front of them.
The driver stepped out, greeting them politely before moving to the trunk.
Francesco handed over the luggage.
The driver placed it inside carefully.
Leah slipped into the back seat first, followed by Francesco.
The interior of the cab was just as refined.
Soft seats.
Clean.
Quiet.
The door closed gently.
And just like that, they were moving again.
This time through Paris.
The city unfolded around them almost immediately.
Wide boulevards.
Elegant buildings with classic architecture.
Cafés spilling out onto sidewalks.
People walking, talking, living.
Leah leaned slightly toward the window, her eyes moving constantly as she tried to take everything in at once.
"Wow…"
Francesco watched her reaction with quiet amusement.
"Overwhelming?"
"A little," she admitted. "But in a good way."
They passed along a street lined with trees, sunlight filtering through the leaves and casting shifting patterns onto the pavement.
Scooters zipped past.
Cyclists moved between lanes.
The city felt… alive.
Different from London.
Softer somehow.
More… romantic.
Leah pointed suddenly.
"Look at that café."
Small.
Crowded.
Chairs facing outward toward the street.
People sitting, drinking coffee, watching the world go by.
"We're going there," she said.
Francesco nodded.
"Deal."
The cab continued through the city, passing landmarks, crossing intersections, weaving through the rhythm of Parisian life.
Every turn revealed something new.
Something beautiful.
Something worth remembering.
Leah leaned back slightly, still smiling.
"I get it now."
"Get what?"
"Why people love this place."
Francesco looked out the window again.
Then back at her.
"Yeah," he said softly.
"I get it too."
And as the cab carried them deeper into the heart of Paris, toward the elegance of the Four Seasons Hotel George V, it became clear.
This wasn't just a trip.
It was something they both needed.
Something they both deserved.
The cab continued forward, gliding smoothly along one of the wide Parisian avenues as the rhythm of the city wrapped itself around them.
There was something almost cinematic about it.
The way the light hit the buildings.
The way people moved with an unhurried confidence.
The way cafés seemed to exist not just as places to eat, but as part of life itself.
Leah hadn't stopped looking out the window.
Not once.
Her eyes kept shifting from one detail to another, trying to take it all in before it slipped past.
"That balcony," she said suddenly, pointing at a building they passed. "Did you see that?"
Francesco glanced over briefly.
Flowers spilling over the railing.
Wrought iron details curling elegantly.
"Yeah," he said. "Looks like something out of a movie."
"That's what I mean," she said, almost laughing. "Everything here feels like a movie."
He leaned back slightly in his seat, watching her more than the city now.
"You're enjoying this."
She turned to him, eyebrows raised.
"Of course I am."
He smirked faintly.
"Good."
The cab slowed slightly as they approached a busier area.
Traffic grew denser, but it never felt chaotic.
Cars moved with a kind of quiet understanding.
Pedestrians crossed streets confidently.
There was a rhythm to it.
A flow.
Leah rested her elbow lightly against the door, her chin propped in her hand as she watched a group of people sitting outside a café, laughing over small cups of coffee.
"They make it look so easy," she said.
"What?"
"Just… being," she replied. "Sitting, talking, not rushing anywhere."
Francesco followed her gaze.
Then nodded.
"Maybe they've figured something out we haven't."
She smiled slightly.
"Maybe."
The cab turned down a more refined street now.
Quieter.
More polished.
Luxury storefronts lined the sidewalks.
Elegant entrances.
Well-dressed people moving in and out.
And then, slowly, the driver eased the car to a stop.
"We've arrived, sir."
Francesco looked up.
And there it was.
Four Seasons Hotel George V
The building stood with a quiet kind of confidence.
Classic Parisian architecture.
Stone façade.
Balconies adorned with greenery.
And at the entrance, a display of flowers so vibrant it almost didn't look real.
Leah let out a soft breath.
"Okay… wow."
Francesco smiled slightly.
"Yeah."
The driver stepped out of the cab first, moving around to open the trunk.
At the same time, a bellboy in a crisp uniform approached the car.
He opened Leah's door first with a polite, practiced motion.
"Welcome, madam."
Leah stepped out, her eyes immediately lifting toward the entrance again, taking in every detail.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Francesco stepped out from the other side.
The warm Parisian air wrapped around them again, carrying that subtle mix of city life and something distinctly elegant.
The bellboy moved quickly to assist with the luggage, coordinating smoothly with the driver.
Suitcases were lifted carefully from the trunk.
Handled with precision.
Francesco reached into his wallet, stepping toward the driver.
"Thank you," he said, handing over the fare along with a tip.
The driver nodded appreciatively.
"Merci, monsieur. Enjoy your stay."
Francesco gave a small nod in return before turning back toward Leah.
For a second, they just stood there together.
Right in front of the hotel.
In Paris.
Actually here.
Leah looked at him, her smile soft but full.
"This is real."
He nodded.
"Yeah."
Then, without another word, they both turned and walked toward the entrance.
The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted again.
Cooler.
Calmer.
Refined.
The lobby was breathtaking.
High ceilings.
Elegant chandeliers casting soft, golden light.
Fresh floral arrangements placed with perfect precision.
The air carried a faint, pleasant fragrance—something clean, something welcoming.
Leah slowed her steps slightly, her gaze drifting upward.
"This place is insane…"
Francesco chuckled quietly.
"Try not to get lost."
"No promises," she murmured.
They made their way toward the reception desk.
The staff immediately acknowledged them with warm, professional smiles.
"Good afternoon, sir. Welcome."
"Good afternoon," Francesco replied.
There was no rush.
No line.
No waiting.
Just that same smooth, effortless efficiency they had experienced since leaving London.
Francesco rested his hand lightly on the counter.
"I have a reservation," he said.
The receptionist nodded politely.
"Of course, sir. May I have your name?"
"Lee. Francesco Lee."
There was a brief pause as she checked the system.
Then her expression shifted slightly from recognition, perhaps but she remained perfectly composed.
"Ah, yes. Mr. Lee. We've been expecting you."
Of course they had.
Jorge had made sure of that.
Francesco gave a small nod.
"I'd like to open the presidential suite."
Leah glanced at him for a split second.
Presidential suite.
Of course.
The receptionist smiled warmly.
"Certainly, sir. Everything has already been prepared for your arrival."
She worked quickly, her movements precise and practiced.
A few clicks.
A confirmation.
Then she reached for a sleek key card holder.
"Your suite is ready."
She placed the key card gently on the counter and slid it toward him.
"If there is anything you need during your stay, please don't hesitate to let us know."
"Thank you," Francesco said.
Leah leaned slightly closer to him as he picked up the card.
"You really went all out," she whispered.
He smirked faintly.
"Vacation, remember?"
She smiled.
"Right."
The bellboy who had assisted them outside stepped forward again.
"Allow me to escort you to your suite."
Francesco nodded.
"Thank you."
The bellboy picked up their luggage effortlessly, already leading the way.
They followed him across the lobby.
Past elegant seating areas.
Past guests quietly enjoying their own moments.
Everything felt calm.
Measured.
Almost like time moved differently inside these walls.
They reached the elevator.
The doors opened with a soft chime.
Inside, the space was just as refined from mirrored walls, soft lighting, a quiet sense of luxury.
The bellboy pressed the button for the upper floor.
The doors closed.
And the elevator began to rise.
Leah glanced at Francesco, her excitement slowly building again.
"I'm a little scared to see what this room looks like."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Scared?"
"What if it's too nice?" she said. "What if I never want to leave?"
He laughed quietly.
"That's a problem for future us."
She smiled.
"Fair enough."
The elevator came to a smooth stop.
The doors opened.
The hallway outside was quiet.
Plush carpet underfoot.
Soft lighting along the walls.
Everything felt private.
Exclusive.
The bellboy led them down the corridor, stopping in front of a set of large double doors.
He turned slightly.
"Your suite, sir."
Francesco stepped forward and held up the key card.
There was a soft click.
Then he pushed the door open.
And for a moment.
Neither of them moved.
The space inside was… breathtaking.
Wide.
Open.
Bathed in natural light from large windows overlooking the city.
Elegant furniture arranged perfectly.
A living area that felt more like a luxury apartment than a hotel room.
Soft tones.
Gold accents.
Everything designed with care.
With intention.
Leah stepped inside slowly.
"Okay…"
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Wow."
Francesco followed, setting the tone with a quiet confidence but even he couldn't ignore the impact of it.
The bellboy entered behind them, placing their luggage neatly inside.
"If you need anything, please let us know," he said politely.
"Thank you," Francesco replied.
The bellboy gave a small nod before quietly leaving, closing the door behind they
And just like that, They were alone again in Paris.
In their suite.
Leah walked further inside, her steps slow as she took everything in from view from the windows, the details in the design, and the sheer size of the place.
She turned back toward Francesco, a smile spreading across her face.
"This…"
She shook her head slightly.
"This is unreal."
Francesco leaned lightly against the door for a second, as he smiled watching her.
Leah's eyes sparkled as she turned to Francesco, taking in the luxury of their Parisian suite. The city outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, surrounded by elegance and possibility.
______________________________________________
Name : Francesco Lee
Age : 18 (2016)
Birthplace : London, England
Football Club : Arsenal First Team
Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, and 2016/2017 Champions League.
Season 16/17 stats:
Arsenal:
Match: 55
Goal: 87
Assist: 5
MOTM: 14
POTM: 1
England:
Match: 1
Goal: 1
Assist: 0
MOTM: 0
Season 15/16 stats:
Arsenal:
Match Played: 60
Goal: 82
Assist: 10
MOTM: 9
POTM: 1
England:
Match Played: 2
Goal: 4
Assist: 0
Euro 2016
Match Played: 6
Goal: 13
Assist: 4
MOTM: 6
Season 14/15 stats:
Match Played: 35
Goal: 45
Assist: 12
MOTM: 9