God Of football - Chapter 748
Chapter 748: The Figures Behind The King.
The Jesko purred to a stop in one of the roped-off VIP spaces, its white paintwork catching the scattered glow of London’s lights.
Izan killed the engine, stepped out, and reached across the seat for the small black Tesco bag he’d carried along, folding its handles in his grip as if it were nothing important.
Ahead of him, Olivia, who had already gotten out, was making her way toward the wide pavement leading to the observation wheel, her soft dress catching in the light breeze.
Her steps, though, were uneven, deliberate and slightly careful.
The low heels she’d chosen earlier had begun their rebellion, and it showed how her posture stiffened with each stride.
Izan lingered for a moment, watching her, the corner of his mouth lifting as though he’d been expecting this all along.
He slipped the bag behind his back and caught up quickly, the crunch of his sneakers light on the ground.
Without a word, he slid around in front of her, his smile broadening before he swept her into his arms in one clean motion.
A couple of passersby turned their heads to look at the lovely couple they had seen, with a few staring much more than they should have but Olivia’s hand darted up first, tugging at the edge of his mask, pulling it higher to shield his face while her other hand clung instinctively to the back of his neck, a faint laugh escaping as she whispered, “Are you crazy? People are staring…”
“Let them,” Izan murmured, carrying her as if it cost him no effort at all.
He lowered her onto a wooden bench tucked just a few feet away.
Olivia poked his cheek as soon as he set her down, her brows knitting into mock annoyance.
“What was that about? You could’ve just said something.”
“Talking is too easy,” Izan replied, already tugging at the Tesco bag.
From it, he pulled out a simple pair of slippers, white, cushioned, almost comically plain compared to the elegance of her outfit.
Olivia blinked, then laughed, a warm sound that softened into something fonder as Izan crouched in front of her.
Carefully, he slipped her heels off, set them aside, and slid the slippers onto her feet one by one.
“Wow, you actually thought of this? ” she asked, her voice caught somewhere between surprise and tenderness.
“Miranda says I overthink,” he said, settling beside her on the bench.
“Maybe she’s right, but thank you. I’ve always wanted to have a Cinderella moment,” she said, nodding at the slippers on her feet.
“I thought hers were glass heels,” Izan joked, but Olivia just nudged him with her shoulder.
For a while, they just sat there as the city moved around them, tourists lining up for the wheel, laughter echoing faintly from the riverbank, London’s night pressing overhead in a quiet kind of grandeur.
Yet, in their small corner, it felt paused, the buzz of everything else muted.
Olivia leaned her head lightly against his shoulder, her hand brushing against his as though testing whether he’d grab it or not.
And he did as he turned his palm upward, so her fingers naturally slid into his.
“You know,” she said softly, “I like normal you, but I wouldn’t hate you this either.”
He tilted his head toward her. “What ‘normal’ me?”
“The one that isn’t always running at full speed. The one that remembers to buy slippers just so I don’t limp my way through a date.”
Izan chuckled, low and genuine.
“That’s rare, though. Most of the time, I don’t even remember to eat properly unless Komi or Miranda nags me.”
“That’s why you have us,” Olivia replied. “Miranda, Komi, Hori and me. We are the queens behind you.”
“Even Hori?” Izan joked.
“More Hori. She keeps you on your feet,” Olivia replied.
He went quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed ahead at the glowing wheel towering above them. ”
Sometimes I forget that. Feels like… if I slow down, even for a second, everything I’ve worked for will slip away. Like someone or somepeople are waiting right behind me to take it all or discredit me.”
Olivia turned to face him properly, her eyes steady on his.
“You won’t lose it just because you stop to breathe. You’re not here because you never pause. You’re here because you’re you. That doesn’t change if you sit down, or laugh, or… carry your girlfriend across a pavement like an idiot.”
That drew a laugh from him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
For another minute, silence lingered, comfortable this time.
Then Olivia stood, brushing down her dress before turning to him with a playful spark in her eyes.
She extended her hand, palm open. “Come on, before you talk yourself into missing the whole ride.”
He looked at her hand for a second, then took it, letting her tug him up.
And together they walked toward the glowing wheel, his hand firmly in hers.
….
By the time they rolled back through the automatic gates, the sky above Hampstead had darkened fully, stars barely piercing through the city’s haze as the Jesko glided across the driveway with a low hum before settling into its reserved space.
Izan killed the engine, and for a moment, neither of them moved.
The day had gone by quicker than either expected, filled with stolen moments, laughter, and the rare relief of anonymity.
Olivia unbuckled first, stretching out her legs with a sigh of contentment.
When they finally stepped out, the cool air brushed over them, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly trimmed grass from the expansive garden.
Izan closed the car door gently and walked around to where Olivia stood, her heels still in hand, as he looked down at the feet of Olivia that seemed to be enjoying the freedom of the slippers.
They didn’t head straight for the front door.
Instead, they wandered a little, just far enough that the lights from the entrance seemed softer, leaving them in the kind of half-shadow where the house looked more like a backdrop than a home.
Olivia glanced at him, her hair falling slightly across her face.
“This almost feels normal. Like we could just… do this every off-day or weekend.”
“Almost normal,” Izan repeated, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“That’s more than I usually get.”
He shifted closer, lowering his voice. “But if you want… I’d make it every weekend.”
Olivia chuckled, her expression softening further as she tilted her head at him.
“Careful. You’re starting to sound like a romantic.”
“Maybe I am,” he said simply.
Their eyes lingered on one another’s, the silence thick but not uncomfortable.
Then, as naturally as it came, Izan leaned down and Olivia rose onto her toes, their lips meeting.
It lasted only a handful of seconds, but long enough that when they broke apart, both of them lingered still, reluctant to let the moment end.
And then, suddenly, the massive wall of glass overlooking the garden from the living room lit up with life.
Where it had been opaque, reflecting nothing but muted shapes, turned transparent in a smooth transition, revealing the wide interior of the living room.
Standing in the middle of it, framed by the warm glow of the lights, was Hori.
Her figure was planted firmly near the control panel, the remote in her hand held up almost triumphantly.
She pressed her face to the glass, her grin obvious even from outside, before she mouthed exaggeratedly: Get a room.
Izan blinked, half in disbelief, while Olivia’s mouth dropped open in a laugh she tried to stifle but failed.
Hori shooed them with her free hand, still grinning mischievously as Izan groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
“She’s too much,” Izan said as Olivia clutched his arm and, with nothing else to do but accept the interruption, the pair laughed their way across the garden and into the house.
And as quickly as the day had passed, night gave way to morning, softly, as if the world itself wanted to give them a slower start after the whirlwind of the day before.
The curtains were half drawn, letting in a pale stream of sunlight that painted long lines across the sheets.
Olivia stirred first, her arm resting lazily across Izan’s chest, her cheek tucked against the fabric of his shirt that he hadn’t bothered to change out of the night before.
She blinked at the glow filtering into the room, her mind still heavy with sleep, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if the past twenty-four hours had been real at all.
Beside her, Izan shifted slightly.
His hand, still loosely entwined with hers even in sleep, gave her the answer she didn’t voice out loud.
Dream or not, she’d enjoyed every second of it.
Izan opened his eyes a moment later, catching her watching him.
His lips curved into a drowsy smile. “Morning,” he murmured, voice roughened by sleep.
Olivia returned the smile, whispering back, “Morning.”
A/N:Last of the previous day.
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