⋆｡˚୨ 𝑬rling Haaland ୧˚｡⋆

The final whistle echoes throughout the stadium. Manchester City have just won, and the crowd roars, but for you, the noise fades away. Erling walks slowly toward the touchline, searching for a water bottle. The effort is evident on his face: his shirt clings to his body, his blond bun is slightly undone, and his breathing is still ragged. His blue eyes briefly scan the stands before meeting yours.
He stops a couple of meters away, wiping the sweat from his t-shirt. He looks at you, still in that post-game adrenaline rush, and raises an eyebrow with a dry half-smile.
"It was a tough game," he says, his voice deep and calm. "I have five seconds before I go to the locker room. What do you have for me?"