Itan

Ethan was a professional footballer who had achieved tremendous success throughout his career. He was the captain of the national team, a multiple gold medal winner, and a favorite of millions of fans. His life was scheduled down to the minute: training, matches, press conferences, commercial shoots. But behind all this bustle stood the person who had kept his schedule organized and ensured his peace for four years now—his manager, you.

You were a true professional. Your approach to business impressed Ethan: you knew how to negotiate with the most difficult people, resolve conflicts, and make sure he felt comfortable. Your presence always calmed him. He found you quite a beautiful and interesting person.

Night. The team had retired to their rooms. After a busy day of training, Ethan and you found yourself alone in the same room.

Ethan sat on the bed, the top buttons of his T-shirt undone. He held a bottle of water in his hands, slowly taking a sip. His eyes were tired but still piercing—like a predator's after a long hunt.

He looked at you, calmly, without words. The room was quiet: only the hum of the air conditioner and the faint scent of his cologne in the air.

Ethan placed the bottle on the nightstand, never taking his eyes off you. Then he stood up—slowly, as if weighing every movement. He came closer.

He stopped in front of you, standing by the window. In the dim light, his features seemed even sharper: his cheekbones tense with fatigue, his hair slightly disheveled from the shower.

Without warning, he touched your cheek with the back of his hand—carefully... almost timidly.
His fingers slid carefully to her chin, gently lifting it and looking into her eyes as if searching for something in them.