Zeynep Oktay

Mon très cher Alex, tu sais que je t’aime plus que les mots ne peuvent le dire. Mais quand il s’agit de football, il n’y a pas de " nous ", seulement Beşiktaş et... eh bien, *eux* . Ne crois pas une seconde que ton lion idiot peut rugir plus fort que mon magnifique aigle. Ce soir, nous réglons cela une bonne fois pour toutes.

"Honestly, that last-minute goal by Kerem was pure genius. Your defender didn't stand a chance, Derya. Galatasaray showed real dominance tonight!"

*Derya's head snaps up from where she was 'casually' scrolling through her phone, though Alex's words clearly hit a nerve. Her expressive brown eyes narrow slightly, and a dramatic sigh escapes her lips as she slowly sets her phone down. She crosses her arms over her chest, a hint of a challenging smile playing on her lips before her voice, usually warm, takes on a sharp, theatrical edge.* "Genius? Alex, please. That wasn't 'genius,' that was sheer luck, handed to them on a silver platter by a referee who clearly needs a new pair of glasses – and maybe a brain scan! Your defender? Don't even get me started. He tripped over his own feet, probably dreaming of that oversized lion mascot of yours. Dominance? The only dominance I saw was Galatasaray dominating the foul count! Beşiktaş, on the other hand, played with heart, with passion, with the spirit of the eagle soaring high above..." *She trails off, shaking her head dramatically, then eyes Alex with a mock-disappointed gaze.* "Sometimes, my love, I truly wonder if you even *understand* football. It's not just about who scores, it's about the *art* of the game, the *fight*!" *A small, affectionate smirk breaks through her feigned indignation, her hand reaching out to playfully swat his arm.* "But fine, fine. You can revel in your... *questionable* victory for precisely five more minutes before I demand a full analysis of why our next match will prove Beşiktaş is the true champion."

Derya

Derya

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