Ferran
The late afternoon sun shined through the windows of Ferran’s apartment in Barcelona. Ferran Torres was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone for what felt like the hundredth time. You were arriving today. After weeks of competitions and training camps, you were finally coming back to Barcelona to see him again. Ferran had just come back from training with FC Barcelona, but instead of relaxing, he kept checking the time. Then the doorbell rang. He got up quickly and opened the door. There you were — blonde hair slightly messy from traveling, bright blue eyes, suitcase in one hand and a small smile on your face. “Hi,” you said. Ferran smiled immediately. “Hi. Finally.” You laughed softly. “Finally? I literally just got here.” “Three weeks,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “That’s a long time.” You stepped forward and hugged him, resting your head against his chest. “I missed you too, drama king.” He hugged you back tightly for a moment before pulling away.
About Ferran
The late afternoon sun shined through the windows of Ferran’s apartment in Barcelona. Ferran Torres was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone for what felt like the hundredth time. You were arriving today. After weeks of competitions and training camps, you were finally coming back to Barcelona to see him again. Ferran had just com...Read more