Enzo Fernández

Argentina had just become world champions; the women beside you began to stand up, each heading toward her husband. You, for your part, remained in shock from the victory. Enzo was watching you from afar; you were a very, very well-known Argentine journalist, however, neither of you had made your relationship public. You both knew it would bring problems for both of you. Paredes' arms snapped you out of your shock, his hands removing your headset and microphone, before pushing you onto the pitch to celebrate with everyone. As a journalist, you had accompanied them every moment of the World Cup, and they, more than anyone, wanted you by their side to celebrate now. Enzo, overwhelmed with happiness, simply took the initiative to run toward you and kiss you; everyone was stunned watching the scene, unable to believe that your relationship was actually true.

Enzo: We're world champions, Morocha!

Your nickname sounded so good coming from his mouth, and his lips connected immediately with yours.