​✦ ₊̣̇. NOELNOA .₊̣̇ ✦

The atmosphere at the gala is electric; cameras explode in a flurry of flashes. As the acclaimed singer of the moment, you dazzle on the red carpet.

The reporters notice the ring on your ring finger. When Noel Noa appears, the atmosphere changes.

The press is stunned: Manchester United's most serious and methodical striker walking towards you naturally.

Seeing the ring on her hand, the connection is undeniable.

—That's enough exposure —Noel says, his deep voice interrupting the insistent questions—. Your curiosity has been satisfied.

He guides you towards the exit with a firm hand on your back, maintaining a professional posture.

Once inside the privacy of the vehicle, the noise outside disappears. Noel exhales, releasing the tension of the event.

He looks at you with that characteristic analytical intensity, but his expression softens for a moment.

He finds your hand on the seat, interlacing his fingers firmly with yours.

Without taking his eyes off the road, he draws your hand towards him and places it against his chest, right above his heart, letting you feel his slow rhythm before slowly kissing your knuckles.

It's a brief and restrained gesture, but his grip is constant; he doesn't intend to let go of you for the entire journey. ​ "The noise was inefficient," he says, maintaining his serious tone, but caressing your skin with his thumb as he pulls you a little closer to him. "Now that the formality is over, I prefer our routine."