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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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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.
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.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
They didn't need to.
There was something in the air that something quiet but full, that made words feel almost unnecessary.
Francesco pushed himself off the door slowly, walking further into the suite. His steps were unhurried, his gaze moving across the space with a kind of quiet appreciation.
"Not bad," he said casually.
Leah turned to him immediately, eyebrows lifting.
"Not bad?" she repeated, half-laughing. "This is insane."
He smirked faintly.
"Okay, yeah. It's pretty good."
"Pretty good?" she shook her head, smiling. "You're impossible."
He shrugged, but there was a softness in his expression now. Not the usual confidence he carried on the pitch, not the composure he showed in front of cameras.
Just him.
Relaxed.
At ease.
Leah took a few more steps into the living area, her fingers brushing lightly against the back of one of the sofas as she passed. The material was soft that perfectly crafted, like everything else in the room.
She turned slowly, taking in the full view again.
The large windows.
The way the sunlight spilled across the floor.
The subtle gold accents in the furniture.
It didn't feel overwhelming.
It felt… calm.
"Okay," she said suddenly, clapping her hands softly once. "Before I get too comfortable and refuse to leave this room ever again—"
Francesco raised an eyebrow.
"Too late for that."
She ignored him.
"We should unpack."
He nodded once.
"Yeah. Good idea."
They both moved toward the luggage at the same time.
There was something almost domestic about it.
Simple.
Normal.
And yet, in a place like this, it felt different.
Leah knelt slightly as she unzipped one of the suitcases, lifting the top open and immediately starting to organize her things.
Francesco did the same with his.
For a while, the room filled with small, quiet movements.
The soft sound of fabric shifting.
Zippers opening and closing.
Hangers being pulled from the wardrobe.
Leah glanced over at him after a moment.
"You fold like that?"
Francesco looked down at the shirt in his hands.
"What?"
She stood up slightly, walking over and gently taking it from him.
"No, no. Look."
She demonstrated quickly, folding it neatly with practiced ease.
"There. That's how you do it."
He watched her, arms crossing slightly as a small smile formed.
"Didn't know I was getting a lesson."
"You're welcome," she said, handing it back.
He shook his head, amused.
"Yes, coach."
She smirked.
"Don't get used to it."
They continued like that for a while.
Side by side.
Occasionally teasing each other.
Occasionally just, existing in the same space without saying anything.
At one point, Leah reached into her bag and pulled out a dress, holding it up briefly as if visualizing it in the room.
"This might actually work here," she said.
Francesco glanced at it.
"Everything works here."
"True," she admitted.
Eventually, their suitcases emptied.
Clothes hung neatly in the wardrobe.
Shoes lined up.
Toiletries arranged in the bathroom.
The space slowly began to feel less like a hotel and more like theirs.
Leah stepped back slightly, placing her hands on her hips.
"There," she said. "That feels better."
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
There was a small pause.
Then Leah turned toward the bathroom, glancing back at him.
"I'm calling it."
"Calling what?"
"First shower," she said.
He tilted his head slightly.
"You're just deciding that?"
"Yes," she replied confidently.
He laughed under his breath.
"Go ahead."
She pointed at him lightly as she walked backward toward the bathroom.
"Don't mess up my side while I'm gone."
"No promises."
She rolled her eyes before disappearing inside.
A few seconds later, the soft sound of running water filled the suite.
Francesco exhaled quietly, walking over to the window.
Paris stretched out below him.
Alive.
Endless.
For a moment, he just stood there, hands resting lightly in his pockets, taking it in.
No noise.
No pressure.
Just this.
Then he turned slightly, glancing toward the bathroom, hearing the faint rhythm of the shower.
A small smile touched his lips.
Yeah.
This was exactly what they needed.
Leah took her time.
Not because she had to.
But because she could.
Warm water.
No rush.
No schedule.
No one waiting for her.
By the time she stepped out, her hair slightly damp, wrapped comfortably in the soft hotel robe, she looked lighter.
Refreshed.
She stepped back into the main room, spotting Francesco near the window.
"Your turn," she said.
He turned slightly.
"Enjoyed it?"
She nodded.
"Very."
He grabbed his things without another word.
"Don't use all the hot water," she called after him.
He smirked.
"No promises."
The bathroom door closed behind him.
And soon, the sound of water returned again.
Leah moved toward the seating area, dropping lightly onto the sofa.
She let herself sink into it.
Comfortable.
Soft.
Her gaze drifted around the room again, but this time, it felt different.
Less overwhelming.
More familiar.
She reached for the room service menu resting on the table.
"Okay…" she murmured to herself.
She flipped through the pages slowly.
There was a lot.
Too much, almost.
But that didn't feel like a problem.
It felt like an opportunity.
By the time Francesco returned with hair slightly damp, shirt fresh, looking more relaxed than he had in a long time as Leah was still looking through the menu.
He walked over, glancing down at her.
"Planning something?"
She looked up.
"Ordering for us."
He sat down beside her.
"What are we getting?"
"A bit of everything," she said simply.
He raised an eyebrow.
"Of course."
She smiled.
"Trust me."
"I do."
That was enough.
She placed the order shortly after.
Simple.
Smooth.
And then they waited.
Not long.
But long enough to enjoy the quiet again.
Leah leaned back into the sofa, turning slightly toward him.
"You hungry?"
"A little," he admitted.
"Good," she said. "Because I might've overdone it."
He laughed.
"I figured."
There was a knock on the door not long after.
Francesco stood, moving to open it.
A staff member stood outside with a cart.
Carefully arranged dishes.
Covered plates.
Freshly prepared.
"Room service," he said politely.
Francesco stepped aside.
"Come in."
The cart was rolled inside smoothly, placed neatly near the dining area.
"Enjoy your meal," the staff member said before leaving just as quietly as he arrived.
Francesco closed the door.
Leah was already on her feet, walking over.
"Oh wow…"
She lifted one of the covers.
Steam rose gently.
The smell hit instantly.
Rich.
Warm.
Inviting.
"Okay, this looks amazing."
Francesco joined her.
"Yeah, you definitely ordered too much."
"Good," she replied.
They both sat down.
Plates were filled.
Drinks poured.
And for a while, the room filled with something else.
Laughter.
Conversation.
The soft clink of cutlery.
It felt easy.
Natural.
Leah took a bite, then immediately nodded.
"Okay, worth it."
Francesco smirked.
"Glad you approve."
They ate slowly.
No rush.
Talking in between.
Enjoying the moment.
At some point, Leah leaned back slightly, looking at him.
"So…"
He looked up.
"So?"
She smiled.
"Where are we going first?"
Francesco considered for a moment.
Then gestured lightly.
"You're the planner."
She grinned.
"Glad you said that."
She leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on the table.
"Okay. First stop…"
She paused for effect.
"Louvre Museum."
Francesco nodded slowly.
"Solid start."
"Right?" she said. "We can take our time, walk around, see everything."
He smirked slightly.
"Everything might take a while."
She shrugged.
"We've got time."
He couldn't argue with that.
"Alright," he said. "What's next?"
She didn't hesitate.
"Then we go to Arc de Triomphe."
Francesco leaned back slightly.
"Classic."
"Exactly," she said. "We get the view, take some pictures, just… be there."
He nodded.
"Not bad."
She smiled.
"And then…"
She leaned back, clearly enjoying this.
"We finish at Champs-Élysées."
Francesco raised an eyebrow.
"Shopping?"
"Walking," she corrected. "Maybe shopping."
He laughed.
"Knew it."
She pointed at him.
"Don't act like you won't enjoy it."
He shrugged.
"I'll survive."
She smiled.
"That's all I need."
There was a small pause.
Then she leaned back slightly, her expression softening.
"This is going to be fun."
Francesco looked at her for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Yeah."
Francesco looked at her for a moment.
Then nodded.
"Yeah."
And the way he said it, as it wasn't just agreement.
It was quiet certainty.
They didn't rush finishing the meal.
There was no reason to.
Leah lingered over the last few bites, occasionally glancing toward the window where the light had shifted slightly, the golden afternoon beginning to soften into something warmer, something closer to evening.
Francesco leaned back in his chair at one point, glass in hand, watching her more than the food now.
"You happy?" he asked.
She looked up at him, surprised by the question but only for a second.
Then she smiled.
"Yeah," she said simply. "I really am."
He nodded once.
That was enough.
No need to overcomplicate it.
No need to dig deeper.
Sometimes the simplest answers were the most honest.
Eventually, plates emptied.
Glasses settled.
The quiet hum of the suite returned, replacing the earlier warmth of conversation and movement.
Leah pushed her chair back slightly and stood, stretching her arms above her head.
"Okay," she said, exhaling lightly. "That was… perfect."
Francesco stood as well, gathering a few of the dishes instinctively before stopping when he realized.
"They'll take care of it," Leah said, amused.
He glanced at her.
"Yeah, I know."
She smiled.
"You're not used to this, are you?"
He shook his head slightly.
"Not like this."
There was a difference between success and this.
Between earning something and stepping into a world where everything was already waiting for you.
Leah walked over to him, gently nudging his arm.
"Come on," she said. "We've got a city to explore."
That shifted something in him immediately.
The stillness gave way to movement again.
"Right," he said.
They moved in opposite directions instinctively.
Leah toward the wardrobe.
Francesco toward his side of the room.
And almost immediately, a new kind of energy filled the space.
Not the calm quiet from before.
Something lighter.
More playful.
Leah stood in front of the wardrobe, scanning through the clothes she had neatly arranged earlier.
Her fingers moved across fabrics, pausing occasionally as she considered options.
"Okay…" she murmured. "Paris."
Not just anywhere.
Not just any day.
Paris.
She pulled out a piece, held it up, tilted her head slightly.
"Too much?" she muttered to herself.
Behind her, Francesco had already started changing, moving with that easy, unbothered confidence he carried everywhere.
He swapped his shirt for something cleaner, sharper with something that fit him perfectly without trying too hard.
Dark tones.
Simple.
But undeniably polished.
Leah glanced back at him for a second.
"…You're already done?" she asked.
He shrugged slightly, adjusting his sleeve.
"I don't overthink it."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Must be nice."
He smirked.
"It is."
She turned back to the wardrobe, determination settling in.
"Okay, no. I'm doing this properly."
And she did.
She chose something that fit the city that not loud, not excessive, but effortlessly stylish. Something that belonged in the streets they had just driven through.
Something that felt like her.
When she finally stepped out a few minutes later.
Francesco noticed.
Immediately.
His gaze lifted, and for just a second, he didn't say anything.
Leah raised an eyebrow.
"Well?"
He tilted his head slightly, taking her in.
"Yeah," he said. "That works."
She crossed her arms lightly.
"That's it?"
He stepped closer.
"It looks good," he added, quieter now. "Really good."
That softened her.
"Better," she said, though the smile gave her away.
She stepped closer to him then, adjusting the collar of his shirt slightly without thinking.
"You clean up alright too."
He huffed a quiet laugh.
"Alright?"
"Don't push it," she shot back.
They stood there for a second.
Close.
Comfortable.
Then Leah stepped back, clapping her hands once again that lighter this time.
"Okay. Let's go before I change my mind and stay here forever."
Francesco grabbed his jacket.
"Lead the way."
They stepped out of the suite together, the door closing softly behind them.
The hallway was just as quiet as before.
Soft lighting.
Plush carpet.
Muted footsteps.
But now, everything felt different.
They weren't arriving anymore.
They were stepping out.
Into something.
The elevator ride down was quicker than it had felt before.
Or maybe it just seemed that way.
Leah stood beside him, a small, excited energy building again.
"You ready?" she asked.
He glanced at her.
"I think you're more ready than I am."
She smiled.
"Obviously."
The doors opened.
The lobby greeted them once more with its quiet elegance.
But this time, they didn't stop to take it in.
They moved through it.
Past the floral arrangements.
Past the seating areas.
Straight toward the entrance.
The doorman opened the door smoothly.
"Enjoy your evening," he said politely.
Francesco nodded.
"Thank you."
And then.
Paris again.
Alive.
Breathing.
Waiting.
The air had shifted slightly.
Cooler now.
The light softer, casting long shadows along the streets.
Leah stepped forward first, her eyes already moving with taking everything in again, but now with purpose.
"Okay," she said, turning slightly. "First stop—"
"Louvre Museum," Francesco finished.
She smiled.
"Exactly."
He gestured lightly down the street.
"Let's go."
The journey there felt different from the drive.
More real.
More immediate.
They passed cafés where people still sat outside, conversations flowing as easily as the drinks in their hands.
Street performers filled small pockets of space with music.
Couples walked side by side.
Friends laughed.
Everything moved.
Everything lived.
Leah walked just slightly ahead at times, then slowed to match his pace again, her attention constantly shifting.
"Look at that," she said at one point, pointing toward a small art stand.
Francesco glanced over.
Paintings lined up neatly, each capturing a different piece of the city.
"Not bad," he said.
She looked at him.
"You say that about everything."
He shrugged.
"I'm consistent."
She laughed.
When they finally approached the Louvre Museum, it didn't hit all at once.
It built.
Slowly.
The space opened up.
The architecture shifted.
And then.
There it was.
Leah stopped walking.
"Okay…"
Her voice dropped slightly.
"That's… wow."
The glass pyramid stood in the center, reflecting the fading light, surrounded by the historic grandeur of the palace itself.
Francesco stepped up beside her, his gaze steady.
"Yeah," he said quietly.
For a moment, they just stood there.
Taking it in.
Not rushing.
Not speaking.
Just being there.
Together.
The world around them continued to move as tourists drifting in and out, cameras clicking, footsteps echoing faintly against the stone, but for those few seconds, it all faded into the background.
Leah let out a soft breath, almost like she'd been holding it without realizing.
"I've seen pictures of this place a hundred times," she said quietly, her eyes still fixed on the glass pyramid. "But it's… different in real life."
Francesco nodded slightly.
"Feels bigger," he said.
"Yeah," she replied. "And not just physically."
There was something about it.
History layered into every corner.
Time sitting quietly in the walls.
It wasn't overwhelming.
It was grounding.
Leah finally turned her head toward him, a small smile forming.
"Come on," she said. "We didn't come all the way here to just stand outside."
Francesco smirked faintly.
"Lead the way."
They made their way into the Louvre Museum, moving with the slow, steady flow of people.
The transition from outside to inside was almost surreal.
The soft evening light gave way to a cooler, controlled atmosphere.
The sounds shifted too that less open, more contained.
Echoes instead of air.
Leah instinctively moved a little closer to Francesco as they stepped deeper inside, her eyes already scanning everything.
"Okay…" she whispered, almost to herself. "Where do we even start?"
Francesco glanced around.
"We've got time, remember?"
She smiled at that.
"Right."
No rush.
No schedule.
Just exploration.
They walked through the halls slowly, letting themselves get a little lost.
And that was the best way to do it.
Room after room unfolded in front of them from paintings stretching across entire walls, sculptures standing in quiet stillness, each piece holding its own story.
Leah stopped often.
Sometimes for a few seconds.
Sometimes longer.
At one painting, she tilted her head slightly.
"I don't fully understand it," she admitted.
Francesco stepped beside her, studying it.
"Same," he said.
She looked at him.
"But you still like it?"
He shrugged.
"Yeah."
She smiled.
"Good answer."
It wasn't about understanding everything.
It was about feeling something.
And they did.
In different ways.
At different moments.
At one point, they entered a larger gallery, where the energy subtly shifted.
There were more people here.
More movement.
More cameras.
Leah noticed it immediately.
"Why is it more crowded here?" she asked quietly.
Francesco's gaze moved ahead and then he saw it.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"I think I know why."
They moved forward slowly, weaving through the crowd.
And then, there it was.
The Mona Lisa.
Smaller than most people expected.
Protected.
Watched.
But still…
Magnetic.
Leah stepped closer, her expression softening almost instantly.
"That's… her," she murmured.
Francesco stood just beside her, hands resting casually in his pockets.
"Yeah."
They didn't try to push forward aggressively.
Didn't try to get the perfect angle.
They just stood where they were.
And looked.
Leah studied the painting carefully.
The subtle smile.
The eyes that seemed to follow without actually moving.
The quiet mystery that had drawn people in for centuries.
"I get it now," she said softly.
Francesco glanced at her.
"Get what?"
"Why everyone comes to see it," she replied.
He nodded slightly.
There was something strangely intimate about it.
Even in a crowded room.
Even surrounded by noise.
It still felt… personal.
Leah pulled out her phone briefly, taking a quick picture. but not obsessively.
Then she lowered it again.
"I don't want to just look at it through a screen," she said.
"Good," Francesco replied. "That'd be a waste."
She smiled faintly.
They stayed a little longer.
Then moved on.
Not because they were done.
But because there was more to see.
And they wanted to experience all of it.
They wandered through more rooms, more halls, occasionally pausing to sit on a bench and just take everything in.
At one point, Leah leaned back slightly, exhaling.
"This place is insane."
Francesco chuckled.
"You said that about the hotel too."
She shrugged.
"Okay, but this is different."
He nodded.
"Yeah. It is."
By the time they finally stepped back outside, the sky had shifted even more.
The light now leaned toward evening.
The city beginning to glow.
Leah stretched her arms slightly as they walked away from the entrance.
"Okay," she said. "That was worth it."
Francesco glanced at her.
"Definitely."
She turned toward him, a spark returning to her eyes.
"Next stop."
He already knew.
"Arc de Triomphe," he said.
She pointed at him.
"See? You're learning."
He smirked.
"Don't get used to it."
The walk there carried a different kind of energy.
The streets felt more alive now.
Lights beginning to turn on.
Traffic building slightly.
The rhythm of the city shifting into evening mode.
Leah walked close beside him this time, occasionally brushing his arm as they moved.
Not intentionally.
But not avoiding it either.
"Paris at night might actually be better," she said.
Francesco glanced around.
"Starting to think you're right."
When the Arc de Triomphe finally came into view, it didn't just appear.
It dominated.
Standing tall.
Commanding.
Framed by the movement of cars circling around it endlessly.
Leah slowed her steps instinctively.
"Okay… that's impressive."
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
They made their way closer, finding a good spot where they could take it in properly without being swallowed by the crowd.
Leah turned to him almost immediately.
"Alright," she said. "Picture time."
He sighed dramatically.
"Of course."
She ignored that completely, already pulling out her phone.
"Come here."
He stepped beside her.
She angled the camera.
Adjusted slightly.
"Wait... no, the light... okay, there."
She leaned in just slightly.
"Smile."
He didn't.
At least not fully.
Just that subtle, controlled expression he always had.
She took the photo anyway.
Then looked at it.
"…You could try a little harder," she said.
"I am trying."
She gave him a look.
"Again."
This time, he gave a slightly more genuine smile.
Click.
"Better," she said.
Then she switched angles.
Different poses.
Different backgrounds.
At one point, she laughed.
"Okay, now just stand there."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Just stand?"
"Yes."
He did.
She stepped back slightly, framing him with the monument behind.
Click.
"Not bad," she murmured.
"Not bad?" he echoed.
She smirked.
"I'm consistent."
He shook his head.
At some point, as they moved around, a small group nearby began to notice him.
It started with a glance.
Then a double take.
Then a whisper.
"Is that—?"
Francesco noticed it too.
He always did.
Leah glanced at him.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
He nodded.
"Yeah."
A couple of them approached hesitantly.
"Excuse me… are you Francesco Lee?"
He gave a small, polite smile.
"Yeah."
That was all it took.
The energy shifted instantly.
Phones came out.
Requests followed.
"Can we get a picture?"
"Can you sign this?"
Francesco handled it the way he always did.
Calm.
Respectful.
Present.
He took photos.
Signed quickly.
Exchanged a few words.
Never rushed.
Never dismissive.
Leah stood slightly off to the side, watching.
There was something about seeing him like this away from the pitch, away from the stadium but still carrying that same presence.
He wasn't just a player.
He was someone people looked up to.
And he never took that lightly.
After a few minutes, the small crowd dispersed, thanking him as they left.
Francesco stepped back toward Leah.
"Sorry," he said.
She shook her head immediately.
"Don't be."
She smiled softly.
"That's part of you."
He looked at her for a second.
Then nodded.
"Yeah."
She nudged him lightly.
"Now come on. We still have one more stop."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Already?"
She grinned.
"Trust me. This one you'll enjoy."
They made their way toward the Champs-Élysées, the transition almost seamless.
The closer they got, the more the atmosphere shifted again.
Brighter.
Busier.
Alive in a different way.
Luxury storefronts lined the avenue, their windows glowing under carefully placed lighting.
People moved with purpose, but also with ease.
It was a place to see and be seen.
Leah slowed slightly as they stepped into it fully, her eyes lighting up almost instantly.
"Okay," she said. "Now this… this is dangerous."
Francesco glanced at her.
"I knew it."
She laughed.
"I warned you."
They walked side by side, occasionally stopping as something caught her attention.
A display.
A dress.
A pair of shoes.
She didn't rush into anything immediately.
She just… looked.
Took it in.
"Okay, we're going in here," she said suddenly, grabbing his arm lightly and guiding him toward a store.
He didn't resist.
"Of course we are."
Inside, the world shifted again.
Quieter.
Softer.
Controlled.
Everything perfectly arranged.
Leah moved through the space with curiosity, her fingers brushing lightly against fabrics, occasionally holding something up to look at it properly.
Francesco followed, hands in his pockets, watching her more than anything else.
"You actually enjoy this," he said.
She looked back at him.
"Obviously."
He shook his head, amused.
"I can tell."
At one point, she held up a jacket against him.
"Try this."
He raised an eyebrow.
"I'm already dressed."
"Just try it."
He took it.
Put it on.
She stepped back slightly, analyzing.
"Yeah… that works."
He looked at himself briefly.
"Not bad."
She smirked.
"There it is again."
They didn't go overboard.
A few pieces.
Carefully chosen.
Things that felt right.
Not just expensive.
But meaningful in the moment.
When they finally stepped back out onto the avenue, the night had settled in fully.
Lights stretched endlessly down the street.
The energy hadn't faded.
If anything, it had grown.
Leah exhaled softly.
"Okay… one last thing."
Francesco looked at her.
"Dinner?"
She nodded.
"Dinner."
They found a place not too far along the Champs-Élysées.
A refined restaurant.
Warm lighting spilling onto the sidewalk.
Soft music drifting out as the door opened.
Inside, everything felt… elevated.
Not stiff.
Not intimidating.
Just elegant.
They were seated near a window, the city still visible outside.
Leah glanced around, clearly impressed.
"Okay… this is nice."
Francesco nodded.
"Yeah."
Menus were brought.
Drinks ordered.
And once again, the pace slowed.
But this time, it felt different.
Fuller.
Richer.
They had lived something already.
And now they were sitting in the middle of it.
Leah rested her chin lightly against her hand, looking at him.
"Today was a good call."
He met her gaze.
"Yeah, it was."
She smiled.
"We should do this more often."
He leaned back slightly.
"Travel?"
She shook her head.
"This."
He understood.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "We should."
Outside, Paris continued to move.
Inside, they stayed right where they were.
Talking.
Laughing.
Sharing small moments between bites of carefully prepared food.
No rush.
No pressure.
Just them.
And for the first time in a long time, everything felt exactly where it was supposed to be.
______________________________________________
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