#bukayo saka imagine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pdriesta · 20 days ago

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pairings — bukayosakaxblack!girl

tropes — childhood-friends-to-lovers

warnings — mentions of abuse, toxic relationship dynamics, emotional distress, and recovery themes. please read with care.

word count — 18k

summary —bukayo thought fate was giving him a second chance with his first love, y/n, after two years apart. but seeing her in a relationship shattered that hope—until he noticed the cracks in her perfect façade. now, he must decide whether to step back or fight for the girl he’s never stopped loving.

an — happy new year! this is a special piece because it is based on this request! to this anon, i am so so sorry it took me forever. i hope it was worth the wait <3

masterlist

y/n had always been the kind of person who made you feel like the sun shone a little brighter when she was around. her laughter could fill a room, her smile infectious enough to pull even the most stubborn grump out of a bad mood. bukayo had known her since they were kids, the two of them inseparable from the moment they met. she’d been his loudest cheerleader, the one who believed in him long before anyone else even noticed he was special.

“you’re going to be a star, b,” she’d said one summer afternoon, sprawled out on the grass in her parents’ garden, sunglasses perched on her nose. “and when you are, don’t forget me, okay?”

“as if i ever could,” he’d replied, throwing a blade of grass at her, earning a mock glare that quickly melted into laughter.

but things had changed when she left for university. bukayo still remembered the day she told him she was going. they’d been sitting in his car, parked outside her house, the air between them thick with an unspoken tension.

“it’s only two years,” she’d said, her voice barely above a whisper, like she was trying to convince herself as much as him. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

he’d nodded, staring straight ahead, fingers gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. “yeah. two years isn’t that long.”

but it felt like forever. he didn’t tell her that, though. he couldn’t. instead, he forced a smile, his heart cracking a little as he watched her try to hold herself together.

“you’ll call, right?” he asked, turning to look at her finally, his voice softer now. “or call. don’t just disappear on me.”

“i promise,” she said, and for a moment, her resolve faltered. she reached for his hand, her grip firm but trembling slightly. “i’ll miss you, b.”

“yeah,” he murmured, swallowing hard. “i’ll miss you too.”

when she hugged him goodbye that day, he’d clung to her just a second longer than usual, like he was trying to memorize the way she felt in his arms. and when she disappeared through her front door, bukayo sat in the car for a long time, staring at the steering wheel, trying to ignore the hollow ache in his chest.

the nature of their relationship had always been complicated, woven together with years of shared laughter and unspoken words. y/n and bukayo were like two sides of the same coin, childhood friends who had grown up navigating the twists and turns of life together. from the moment they met, it was clear they had an undeniable bond. she’d cheer him on from the sidelines as he honed his skills on the pitch, her laughter ringing out like music in the air. he could still remember the way her eyes sparkled with pride when he scored his first goal, a moment that felt monumental.

she came back two years later, just like she said she would, but she wasn’t the same. the bubbly, carefree girl he’d known was gone, replaced by someone quieter, more reserved. she still smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes the way it used to. her laughter was softer now, like she was holding a part of herself back.

bukayo was different too. in those two years, his life had changed in ways he never could’ve imagined. arsenal wasn’t just a dream anymore—it was his reality. people chanted his name in stadiums, his face plastered across magazine covers and tv screens. he was no longer just saka from the neighborhood. he was bukayo saka, arsenal’s golden boy, england’s rising star.

but none of that mattered when y/n walked back into his life.

“look at you,” she’d said the first time they saw each other again, her voice laced with something he couldn’t quite place—pride? nostalgia? sadness? “you’re a superstar now.”

“and you’re a big shot in finance,” he’d replied, trying to keep the conversation light, trying to ignore the way his chest tightened at the sight of her.

they’d met up for coffee, catching up like old friends, but it didn’t feel the same. she was holding something back, he could feel it. and then she mentioned him—the boyfriend.

“he’s great,” she said, stirring her latte absentmindedly, her eyes fixed on the swirling foam. “we met at uni. he’s why i decided to move back to london.”

bukayo felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. he forced a smile, nodding like it didn’t bother him. “that’s… that’s great, y/n. i’m happy for you.”

“thanks,” she said, looking up at him with a small smile. but her eyes… her eyes told a different story.

he wanted to ask if she was really happy, if this guy made her laugh the way he used to, if he knew how lucky he was to have her. but he didn’t. instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat, changing the subject to something safer, something that didn’t make his chest ache.

later that night, as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, bukayo couldn’t stop thinking about her. about the way she seemed different, like she was carrying some invisible weight on her shoulders. he missed the old y/n, the girl who used to light up every room she walked into. but most of all, he missed being the person who made her smile like that.

he knew he should be happy for her. she deserved to be loved, to be cherished. but the thought of her with someone else, someone who wasn’t him… it tore him apart.

“you waited too long,” he thought to himself, “she’s not yours anymore.”

but deep down, a part of him refused to accept it. refused to believe that this was the end of their story.

but as they transitioned from kids to teenagers, something shifted. he started noticing the way her smile lingered a little longer on his face, the warmth of her laughter enveloping him like a comforting blanket. there was a point when his feelings blossomed, but by then, he was busy chasing his dreams, moving up through the ranks at arsenal, while she was suddenly caught up in the whirlwind of boys and heartbreaks that came with growing up.

he had buried his emotions deep, a silent spectator as y/n went through boyfriends who didn’t seem to appreciate her spirit, the vibrant girl who filled every room with light. bukayo would listen as she recounted tales of her latest heartbreak, brushing off the red flags, her voice tinged with an unshakeable hope. “he just gets stressed sometimes,” she’d say, her smile faltering slightly. he would want to scream, to shake her and tell her she deserved so much more.

it felt like old times again.

the air was warm inside her parents’ house, the faint aroma of her mom’s cooking wafting through the kitchen. laughter filled the living room as bukayo and y/n sat cross-legged on the rug, a deck of cards scattered between them. her younger brother had tried to join in but quickly lost interest, leaving them to their own antics.

“you’re cheating,” she accused, narrowing her eyes at him as he carefully slid a card into his hand.

“i’m not cheating,” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “you’re just bad at this game.”

“excuse me?” she said, feigning offense. “i’ll have you know i was undefeated in uno at uni.”

he snorted. “uni must’ve been full of amateurs then.”

she threw a card at him, and he laughed, catching it mid-air. the sound of his laughter was contagious, and for the first time in weeks, y/n felt like she could breathe.

“remember when we used to do this all the time?” she asked, leaning back on her hands.

“how could i forget?” he said, his voice softening. “you used to get so mad when you lost. i think you cried once.”

“i did not cry,” she shot back, though the faint blush on her cheeks gave her away.

“you did,” he insisted, leaning closer. “you swore you’d never play cards with me again. but here we are.”

she rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t falter. “i missed this, you know. us.”

he hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on her. “me too.”

later, they moved to the backyard, the cool evening air brushing against their skin. y/n’s parents had gone out, leaving the two of them alone. bukayo chased her across the garden, their laughter echoing into the night as she tried—and failed—to outrun him.

“you’re so slow,” he teased, catching her by the arm and spinning her around.

“you’re just faster,” she shot back, breathless and grinning.

“comes with the territory,” he said smugly, holding onto her wrist for a moment longer than necessary.

and that’s when he noticed it.

his thumb brushed against her skin, and she winced, just slightly. his gaze dropped to her wrist, where faint bruises marred the delicate skin.

“y/n,” he said softly, his tone shifting. “what’s this?”

she pulled her hand back quickly, tucking it behind her. “it’s nothing.”

“nothing?” he repeated, his brows knitting together. “that doesn’t look like nothing.”

“i said it’s fine,” she insisted, her voice sharper now.

but bukayo wasn’t convinced. he stepped closer, his concern evident. “did someone do this to you?”

“no,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

“y/n,” he pressed, his voice gentle but firm. “you can tell me.”

she shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. “it’s not a big deal, okay? just drop it.”

his heart sank at the way she shut down, the light in her eyes dimming. this wasn’t the y/n he knew. the girl who used to be so open, so carefree. now, she was guarded, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“you know I care about you, right?” he said softly.

she nodded, but her eyes stayed fixed on the ground. “i know.”

“then why won’t you let me help?”

she looked up at him then, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “because you can’t, bukayo. not this time.”

he wanted to argue, to tell her he could fix it, whatever it was. but the look on her face stopped him. so instead, he nodded, even though every fiber of his being told him not to let it go.

“okay,” he said quietly. “but if you ever want to talk, i’m here. always.”

she gave him a small, grateful smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

as they headed back inside, bukayo couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling settling in his chest. something wasn’t right. and no matter how much she tried to hide it, he wasn’t about to let it slide. not when it came to her.

it was another rare moment of peace between them, the kind that felt stolen from a simpler time. bukayo had taken her to the park near her parents’ house, one they used to visit when they were younger. the trees were just beginning to shed their leaves, the crisp autumn air carrying the scent of damp earth and faint traces of city life.

“this place hasn’t changed at all,” she said softly, running her fingers over the rough bark of a tree they used to climb as kids.

“except we’re not trying to break our necks climbing it anymore,” he teased, his smile warm as he watched her.

she laughed, and for a moment, it felt like everything was okay. like the past few years hadn’t changed her, hadn’t dulled the vibrant light in her eyes.

but then her phone buzzed. again. and again.

she froze, her hand hovering near her jacket pocket as the buzzing persisted.

“you gonna get that?” bukayo asked casually, though he couldn’t ignore the way her body tensed.

“it’s nothing,” she muttered, pulling the phone out and glancing at the screen. her fingers gripped it tightly, her knuckles whitening.

bukayo caught a glimpse of the name: ethan.

“you sure?” he pressed, trying to keep his tone light.

“yeah,” she said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. she slid the phone back into her pocket, but her hand lingered there, like she was waiting for it to buzz again.

they continued walking, but the easy rhythm they’d fallen into earlier was gone. y/n kept glancing over her shoulder, her steps quicker, like she couldn’t quite relax. bukayo noticed everything—the way her shoulders hunched slightly, the way her fingers twisted nervously in her jacket sleeve.

“you okay?” he asked, stopping to look at her.

“yeah,” she said quickly. “just... tired, i guess.”

he didn’t believe her. not for a second. but he nodded anyway, not wanting to push too hard. not yet.

later, they sat on a bench overlooking the park, a cup of hot chocolate in her hands and a latte in his. the air was cooler now, the sun dipping lower in the sky.

“remember that time we built a snowman here?” she asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

“you mean the one that looked like it got run over?” he joked.

“hey, it had character,” she defended, nudging him with her elbow.

“it had no head,” he countered, grinning.

her laughter rang out, and for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered. but then her phone buzzed again, and the spell broke.

“just answer it,” bukayo said, his tone more serious now.

“i can’t,” she said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“why not?”

she hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground. “he... he just worries, that’s all. doesn’t like when i don’t answer.”

“y/n,” he said carefully, his stomach twisting. “that’s not normal.”

“it’s fine,” she said, her voice a little too sharp. “he just cares about me.”

bukayo wanted to argue, wanted to tell her that caring about someone didn’t mean blowing up their phone and making them anxious. but the way she shut down stopped him.

it was later that evening, after he dropped her off at her parents’ house, that everything started to click.

the bruises on her wrists. the way she flinched when he’d reached for her arm. the nervous glances at her phone. it all painted a picture he didn’t want to see.

he sat in his car for a long time, his hands gripping the steering wheel as his mind raced. ethan. it had to be him. but how could he bring it up without pushing her away?

the next day, bukayo decided he couldn’t wait any longer. he’d planned to talk to her after lunch, maybe take her out somewhere quiet and just... ask.

but when y/n arrived at the cafe where they’d agreed to meet, she was glowing.

“you’re in a good mood,” he said, trying to match her energy.

“i have news,” she said, sitting down across from him.

“what’s up?”

she hesitated for a moment, then smiled brightly. “ethan and i are moving in together.”

the words hit him like a punch to the gut.

“what?” he managed to say, his voice tighter than he intended.

“yeah,” she said, her excitement barely contained. “we’ve been talking about it for a while, and it just feels like the right time, you know?”

he didn’t know. he didn’t understand how she could be so happy about something that filled him with dread.

“are you sure about this?” he asked carefully.

her smile faltered. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“i just...” he trailed off, searching for the right words. “i want you to be safe, y/n.”

“i am safe,” she said, her tone defensive now. “ethan loves me, bukayo.”

he opened his mouth to argue, to tell her everything he’d noticed, everything he suspected. but the look on her face stopped him. she didn’t want to hear it. not now.

“if you’re happy, that’s all that matters,” he said finally, forcing a smile.

“i am,” she said softly, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

he nodded, but as she started talking about their plans, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his chest. moving in with ethan didn’t just mean more time together. it meant less time for her to escape. less time for him to keep an eye on her.

and more time for ethan to hurt her.

weeks turned into months, and the cycle continued. bukayo found himself watching helplessly as the light in her eyes dimmed, bit by bit, each time they met. it was like watching a sunset fade into night—beautiful, but heartbreakingly inevitable.

one chilly evening, they sat on the steps of her house, the air crisp with the promise of winter. the streetlights flickered softly, casting a golden glow over the quiet neighborhood. she was curled up in an oversized sweater, her knees tucked close to her chest as she shivered against the cold. her breath puffed out in little clouds, and for a moment, bukayo thought about how small she looked, how fragile—like the winter air itself was pressing her down.

“he’s just having a tough time, you know?” y/n said suddenly, breaking the silence. her voice was soft, almost defensive, and her words lingered in the air like smoke. “it’s not his fault.”

bukayo tensed, his jaw tightening as he fought back the frustration rising in his chest. “but does he treat you right?” he asked, his tone low but steady. his fingers drummed anxiously on his knee, his heart pounding harder than it should. “you can’t keep excusing behavior that hurts you, y/n.”

she didn’t answer right away. instead, her gaze dropped to the ground, her eyes tracing the thin cracks in the pavement as if they held some kind of answer. the silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

“it’s not always easy to walk away, bukayo,” she murmured finally, her voice trembling just enough to make his chest ache.

he turned to her, his eyes searching her face for something—anything—that might explain why she stayed. “but you should,” he said, his words rushing out like a dam breaking. “you should want to be happy.” his voice cracked slightly, betraying the depth of his emotion. “you deserve someone who sees you for who you are, not someone who makes you question it.”

she blinked, her lashes damp from the cold, and looked up at him. her gaze was raw, her eyes shimmering with something he couldn’t quite place—pain? shame? something else entirely? for a fleeting moment, it was as if she truly saw him, saw how much he cared, how much this was breaking him too.

but then she looked away, her arms tightening around her knees. “you don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” he echoed, his voice sharp with disbelief. he shifted on the step, leaning closer to her, his breath clouding in the cold air. “no, it’s not. it’s simple. you’re worth more than this.”

she shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line as tears welled in her eyes. “you don’t know him like i do,” she said, her voice wavering. “he’s not always like that. he’s just... he’s struggling.”

bukayo exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. his heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, the weight of her words sinking deep into his chest. “struggling doesn’t give him the right to treat you like this,” he said, his tone softer now but no less firm. “struggling doesn’t mean you have to carry his pain too.”

she didn’t respond, and the silence that followed felt deafening. she stared at the pavement, her fingers nervously pulling at the hem of her sweater. the streetlights buzzed faintly above them, the sound blending with the distant hum of a passing car.

“y/n,” he said gently, reaching out to touch her arm. she flinched. it was small, almost imperceptible, but bukayo noticed. and it broke him.

he pulled his hand back, his throat tightening. “you’re not alone in this,” he said quietly. “you don’t have to do this by yourself.”

she finally looked at him, her expression unreadable. “it’s not that simple,” she said again, her voice heavy with exhaustion. “it’s not like i can just leave.”

“but you can,” he insisted, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. he softened, leaning closer to her. “you just have to let yourself. you have people who care about you. me, your family. we’re here for you.”

her lip quivered, and for a moment, bukayo thought she might say something. but instead, she turned her face away, the shadows from the streetlight casting a veil over her features.

“i’ll be fine,” she said after a long pause, though the words sounded hollow. “really. don’t worry about me.”

but he couldn’t stop. he wouldn’t stop. because the thought of her enduring this, of her bruises becoming more than just physical marks, was more than he could bear.

the air between them grew heavier, colder, as if the weight of their unspoken truths was sinking into the night. y/n pulled her knees closer to her chest, burying her chin into the oversized collar of her sweater. bukayo watched her, his heart clenching at how small she seemed, as if she were folding in on herself to disappear.

“sometimes,” she started, her voice trembling like fragile glass, “i think… maybe this is all i deserve.”

bukayo froze. his breath caught in his throat, his stomach twisting into a knot. “what?” he whispered, leaning closer, trying to catch her gaze, but she kept her eyes fixed on the cracks in the pavement.

she exhaled shakily, the sound breaking his heart further. “what if no one else could ever love me?” she continued, her voice soft and uneven. “like, maybe this is the best i’ll ever get. maybe this is all i’m worth.”

the words hit him like a punch to the chest. he felt an ache so deep it almost made him angry—not at her, never at her, but at the world that had made her feel this way. “y/n,” he said, his voice low but firm.

she shook her head, cutting him off before he could say more. “he has his moments, bukayo. he’s not all bad. and who else would even—” her voice cracked, and she paused, blinking rapidly to fight the tears. “who else would even want me?”

“me,” bukayo blurted, the word escaping before he could stop it. it hung in the air between them, raw and vulnerable. his heart raced, pounding in his chest like a drumbeat he couldn’t control. “i do, y/n. i—i’ve always…” he faltered, but only for a moment. “i love you.”

she looked up then, her eyes wide with surprise, but the flicker of realization he hoped for didn’t come. instead, she smiled weakly, her expression tinged with sadness. “i know, bukayo,” she said softly, her hand reaching out to touch his arm briefly. “you’re my best friend. i love you too.”

her words, meant to reassure, were like a knife twisting in his chest. she didn’t see it. she didn’t understand. she thought he meant platonically, and part of him couldn’t blame her. how could she see his feelings when she was drowning in her own insecurities?

he swallowed hard, forcing himself to nod, to keep the heartbreak from spilling onto his face. “yeah,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “always.”

but inside, he was screaming. he wanted to grab her by the shoulders, to make her see herself through his eyes—the way she lit up a room, the way her laugh made his world feel brighter, the way he’d been in love with her for as long as he could remember.

she leaned her head back against the steps, closing her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. “you’re the only one who makes me feel like i’m not completely alone,” she said, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear it.

his throat tightened, and he clenched his fists to keep himself from reaching out, from holding her, from saying all the things he knew she wasn’t ready to hear. “you’re not alone,” he said firmly, his voice steady even as his heart broke. “you never will be. not as long as i’m here.”

she smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “thanks, bukayo. i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and that was the problem. she saw him as her rock, her constant, her safe place—but not as the boy who loved her with every fiber of his being. not as the boy who would give anything to take her pain away, to show her what love was supposed to feel like.

she stood after a moment, brushing off her sweater. “i should probably head inside,” she said, her tone lighter now, as if the conversation had been nothing more than a passing cloud. “thanks for listening.”

he nodded, forcing a smile he didn’t feel. “always,” he repeated.

as she walked up the steps and slipped inside, bukayo stayed behind, staring at the closed door. the weight of her words—and the weight of his own—pressed down on him like a thousand bricks.

she didn’t think anyone could love her. but he did. he had for years.

and the heartbreaking part was, she didn’t even see it.

the morning of her birthday began like so many others—with tension thick enough to choke on, though today, it cut deeper. y/n had woken up with a quiet kind of excitement humming beneath her skin, a hopeful spark that maybe, just maybe, this birthday would feel different. but as she stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the fabric of her favorite dress, the spark fizzled the moment ethan’s eyes raked over her.

“you’re seriously going to wear that?” he scoffed, his words landing like a blow. the disdain in his voice was sharp, slicing through her budding confidence. “you look like you’re trying too hard. do you really need everyone’s attention on you like that?”

her fingers faltered against the hem of her dress, the sting of his words prickling her eyes with unshed tears. she straightened her shoulders, clinging to the last threads of her resolve. “it’s just a dress, ethan. it’s my birthday—”

“yeah, and you’re supposed to be spending it with me,” he snapped, cutting her off mid-sentence. his tone was laced with irritation, as if her mere existence was an inconvenience. “but no, you just have to parade yourself around in front of your family. they treat you like a kid anyway. grow up.”

his words were venomous, laced with an anger that made her stomach churn. her fingers gripped the edge of the counter, nails biting into the wood as she fought to keep her composure. don’t let him see how much it hurts.

"and don't think I don't know what you're doing," ethan sneered, leaning back against the counter with an arrogant smirk. "your little boyfriend bukayo? yeah, I see the way you light up when he’s around. like you're just biding your time until you can run off to him. but let me tell you something, y/n—he doesn’t want you, not like I do. no one ever will."

"that’s not true," she said quietly, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. "bukayo’s my friend. you know that."

"friend? is that what you call it?" ethan laughed, the sound cold and mocking. "come on, y/n. you think I don’t see the way he looks at you? like you’re some kind of saint. but trust me, he wouldn’t stick around if he really knew you. not the real you."

the accusation struck deeper than she expected, and her heart ached at the weight of his words. she hated how easily ethan could twist the truth, how he made her question the people who truly cared about her. bukayo knows me better than you ever could, she wanted to say, but the words stuck in her throat.

"you think he’d put up with you?" ethan pressed, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "he doesn’t love you. no one will. not when they see what a mess you really are."

she flinched, the harshness of his words hitting her like a physical blow. but even through the pain, there was a flicker of defiance in her chest. ethan’s voice may have been louder, but the quiet reassurance of bukayo’s kindness echoed stronger in her mind.

the lump in her throat grew unbearable, and her hands trembled as she turned away from him, unable to meet his gaze. don’t cry, she told herself, even as the tears threatened to spill. swallowing hard, she changed into something plainer—a loose sweater and jeans that felt more like a concession than an outfit—and told herself it didn’t matter. it’s just a dress.

but as she climbed into her car, the tears she’d fought so hard to hold back broke free. they spilled down her cheeks in hot, silent streams, blurring her vision as she gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands.

the morning sunlight streamed through the windshield, mocking her with its brightness. the world outside her car was alive, oblivious to the storm raging inside her. she sniffed, swiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

her mind replayed ethan’s words over and over, each one a jagged edge that cut deeper than the last. grow up. trying too hard. need everyone’s attention. the phrases clung to her like a second skin, their weight pressing against her chest until she could barely breathe.

she glanced at herself in the rearview mirror, her reflection a cruel reminder of the morning’s events. her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks blotchy, her lips trembling with the effort to hold herself together. you’re supposed to be happy today, she thought bitterly. it’s your birthday, for god’s sake.

the road stretched ahead of her, a familiar path to her parents’ house, but today it felt endless. every mile was a reminder of what she’d hoped for and what she’d received instead—a day that should have started with love and laughter, marred by criticism and hurt.

as she pulled into her parents’ driveway, she forced herself to take a shaky breath, gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing anchoring her. she hastily wiped at her face, hoping to erase the evidence of her heartbreak before stepping out.

just get through today, she told herself, her heart heavy as she opened the car door. you can cry later. just smile. for them.

but as she approached the front door, her attempts at composure faltered. the sound of muffled laughter and voices reached her ears, and before she could prepare herself, the door swung open to reveal a room full of people shouting, “surprise!”

he held a bouquet of sunflowers, her favorite, and a cake he’d clearly spent time picking out. “happy birthday, y/n!” he beamed, his eyes lighting up as they met hers.

for a moment, the weight of the morning lifted, and she couldn’t stop the tears that welled up again—but this time, they weren’t from sadness.

“you did all this?” she whispered, stepping inside as her family and friends closed in around her for hugs and well-wishes.

“of course,” bukayo said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “you deserve it.”

as the party went on, she couldn’t help but notice how seamlessly bukayo fit in with her family. her parents adored him, her siblings treated him like an older brother, and even his own parents—who had come to celebrate—felt like extended family.

he’d always been there, hadn’t he? her childhood best friend, the one who never let her down. as she watched him laughing with her dad, his arm casually draped around her younger brother’s shoulders, she felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite name. regret, maybe. longing.

because as much as she tried to push it down, she couldn’t stop thinking that she’d made the wrong choice. if bukayo had ever been a choice, she realized, he would have been the right one.

later in the evening, as the party wound down and she sat with him on the couch, he handed her a small, wrapped box.

“what’s this?” she asked, her fingers brushing against the paper.

“just something I thought you’d like,” he said with a shrug, though his smile betrayed how much he cared.

inside was a delicate bracelet, engraved with a date—her birthday.

“bukayo,” she breathed, her voice catching. “it’s beautiful.”

“so are you,” he said softly, his gaze steady, unwavering.

her heart clenched, and for a fleeting moment, she wanted to tell him everything—about ethan, about how unhappy she was, about how much she wished things were different. but instead, she smiled and whispered, “thank you.”

as the night went on, she found herself wishing she could freeze this moment. surrounded by her family, by people who loved her, with bukayo by her side. and as she looked at him, so full of life and light, she couldn’t help but think: if only things were different.

if only she could let herself believe she deserved better. if only she could admit that she was falling for someone who had been there all along.

but the guilt crept in, the fear that she was too broken, too lost to be saved. so she buried the thought and let herself enjoy the evening, even as her phone buzzed incessantly in her pocket, ethan’s name lighting up the screen.

she didn’t answer. not tonight. tonight was hers. and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to imagine a world where she could be happy. where she could be with someone like bukayo.

the night was heavier than usual, the air thick and suffocating as y/n moved around the apartment. ethan had been in one of his moods all day, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, his irritation spilling into every glance and clipped word. she tried to stay out of his way, hoping to ride out the storm like she always did. but tonight, the storm didn’t pass.

“what the hell is this?” his voice boomed from the living room, freezing her mid-step.

she turned, her heart plummeting when she saw him holding a small card—one she didn’t even know she still had. bukayo’s handwriting was unmistakable, looping and neat across the front. he’d written it months ago, tucked it into a book he’d given her, but she’d never read it. it had been too much, too overwhelming at the time, and now she cursed herself for not throwing it away.

“i asked you a question,” ethan snarled, stepping closer, the card crumpling in his fist. “why the hell do you still have this? huh? keeping little love notes from your friend?”

“ethan, i didn’t even know—”

“don’t lie to me!” he shouted, the veins in his neck bulging as he towered over her. “don’t stand there and lie to my face, y/n. you think i’m stupid? you think i don’t see it? the way you look at him? the way he looks at you?”

“it’s not like that,” she whispered, her voice shaking as she backed away, her hands trembling at her sides. “i swear, ethan. i didn’t even read it. it’s nothing.”

“nothing?” he repeated, his laugh sharp and bitter. “then why the hell do you still have it? why didn’t you throw it away?”

before she could answer, he lunged, grabbing her wrist with a force that made her yelp. the card fluttered to the ground, forgotten, as his grip tightened, his face inches from hers.

“you’re mine,” he hissed, his voice low and menacing. “do you hear me? you don’t get to keep pieces of him. you don’t get to pretend he’s not in your head. you belong to me.”

the tears spilled over before she could stop them, panic surging through her as she struggled against his hold. “ethan, please, let go—”

but he didn’t. his other hand grabbed her arm, shaking her roughly as his rage spilled over. “you think you can just do whatever you want? keep secrets from me? disrespect me?”

the fear coursing through her gave her strength, and she wrenched herself free, stumbling backward. her wrist throbbed where he’d held her, but she didn’t stop to think. she grabbed her phone and keys from the counter, darting for the door as he shouted after her.

“don’t you walk out that door, y/n! don’t you dare—”

the door slammed shut behind her, muffling his voice. she didn’t stop running until she was in her car, her hands shaking so badly it took three tries to get the key in the ignition. her breath came in ragged gasps as she pulled out of the driveway, her vision blurred with tears.

she didn’t know where she was going until she was already halfway there. there was only one person she trusted, only one person she could run to.

bukayo was awake when the frantic knocking came, his heart lurching at the sight of her through the peephole. she was trembling, her face streaked with tears, her sweater slipping off one shoulder to reveal angry red marks on her wrist. he flung the door open without a second thought.

“y/n?” his voice cracked with concern, but she didn’t answer right away. she stood there, clutching the strap of her bag, her body trembling as though she might collapse.

“i can’t…” her voice broke, tears spilling down her cheeks. “i can’t go back there, bukayo. please… can i stay here?”

her voice cracked on the last word, and she choked out a sob that broke him. without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled her inside, his arms wrapping tightly around her as the door clicked shut behind them.

“of course,” he whispered into her hair, his voice firm but gentle. “you’re staying here, y/n. you’re safe now.”

her tears soaked into his shirt as she clung to him, her small frame shaking in his hold. he didn’t ask questions, not yet. he just held her, his hand cradling the back of her head as she let herself fall apart in his arms.

when her sobs quieted a little, he led her to the couch, sitting beside her and keeping her close. his hands trembled as they brushed the hair from her face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling.

“what happened?” his voice was soft, but there was a current of restrained anger beneath it. “y/n, please. tell me.”

she hesitated, her eyes darting away as shame and fear curled inside her. her voice was barely above a whisper when she finally spoke. “he… he hits me, bukayo.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. his jaw clenched, his whole body tensing as her confession sank in. his gaze dropped to her arms, and that’s when he noticed the faint marks peeking out from beneath her sleeves.

“but it isn’t the first time, is it?” his voice was tight, anger barely contained. he gestured toward the faded bruises on her skin, the cuts he’d noticed before but never pushed her about. “the bruises. the cuts. i’ve seen them for months, y/n. haven’t i?”

her lip trembled, and she nodded, tears spilling anew as she buried her face in her hands.

“i’m sorry,” she choked out. “i didn’t know how to tell you. i didn’t think—”

“don’t,” he interrupted, his voice sharp but not unkind. “don’t apologize. this is not your fault. none of this is your fault.”

he stood abruptly, pacing the small space, his hands running through his hair. she looked up, startled, as he grabbed his jacket and keys from the counter.

“what are you doing?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“i’m going to him,” he said, his voice low and full of fury. “i’m going to make him pay for what he’s done to you.”

“no!” she cried, scrambling to her feet and clutching his arm. “bukayo, please, no. he isn’t worth it. please don’t leave me. i need you. i can’t—i can’t do this alone.”

his resolve faltered as he looked at her, tears streaming down her face, her voice shaking with desperation. her hands clung to him like he was her lifeline, and he realized she was right. she needed him here, not out there chasing his anger.

he dropped his jacket and pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly. “he hurt you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “he’s been hurting you, y/n. and i can’t stand it. i can’t stand knowing what you’ve been going through.”

“i know,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest. “but please, stay. i need you more than your anger. he isn’t worth it, bukayo. you are.”

his chest tightened, her words hitting him harder than he expected. he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his arms wrapping around her even tighter.

“okay,” he said softly, his voice cracking. “okay. i’ll stay. i’m not going anywhere.”

they stayed like that for what felt like hours, her tears soaking his shirt as her sobs gradually subsided. he held her as though letting go would shatter her entirely, his own heart breaking with every shaky breath she took.

when she finally pulled back, her eyes were red and swollen, but there was a small flicker of relief in them.

“thank you,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

he cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks. “you never have to thank me, y/n. i’ll always be here for you.”

he helped her into the guest room, tucking her in like she was something fragile and precious. and then he stayed, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand holding hers as she finally fell asleep. her soft breaths filled the room, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she looked at peace.

but bukayo couldn’t sleep. the anger still simmered beneath the surface, his mind racing with thoughts of ethan and what he’d done. but he shoved it down, burying it deep, because y/n needed him now more than ever. and he wasn’t going to let her down.

the first light of morning spilled into the room, soft and golden, but bukayo didn’t notice. he hadn’t slept, his eyes fixed on her peaceful face as she lay in his arms. it was the first time in years he’d held her like this, not since they were teenagers—back when the world felt kinder, and life hadn’t yet left its scars on her.

but now, everything was different. her breaths were even, her face relaxed in sleep, but the faint bruises on her arms and the tension still clinging to her even in unconsciousness broke his heart. he brushed a gentle hand over her hair, his jaw clenching at the thought of what she’d been through.

slipping out of bed carefully so as not to wake her, he padded to the kitchen, the quiet of the early morning wrapping around him like a heavy blanket. he started pulling things from the fridge, his movements automatic as his mind replayed the events of the night before. the bruises. her tears. the way she’d clung to him, her voice breaking as she begged him to stay.

he made the breakfast he always loved—scrambled eggs, toast, avocado, fruit on the side—but his hands trembled as he worked, his thoughts spiraling. how long had she endured this? how many nights had she cried alone, with no one to turn to? he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, for not pushing her when he’d noticed the bruises before.

he was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear her soft footsteps until she appeared in the doorway.

“bukayo?” her voice was small, tentative, and he turned to see her standing there in one of his shirts, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to disappear.

“y/n,” he said, setting down the knife he’d been holding. his heart squeezed at the sight of her, fragile and unsure. “morning. come sit. i made breakfast.”

she glanced at the counter, her eyes widening slightly at the spread he’d laid out. “you didn’t have to do all this,” she said softly, her voice tinged with guilt.

he shook his head, walking over to her and placing a gentle hand on her arm. “of course i did,” he said firmly. “how are you feeling?”

she hesitated, her eyes dropping to the floor. “hurt,” she admitted finally. “and… embarrassed, to be honest.” her voice cracked on the last word, and she tried to turn away, but he caught her gently by the shoulders.

“y/n,” he said, his voice low but steady, “you have nothing to be embarrassed about. nothing. any man who puts his hands on a woman should be ashamed, not you. never you.”

her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded, her lip trembling. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “i know i’m safe with you.”

“you always will be,” he promised, his hand brushing over her cheek before he led her to the counter. they sat side by side, the food untouched at first as she stared down at her plate.

“thank you for this,” she said again, her voice still small.

he studied her for a moment, the way her shoulders slumped, the way she avoided his gaze. “you’ve changed,” he said softly, his tone careful. “you’re not… you’re not the y/n i used to know.”

she stiffened slightly, her fork clinking against the plate. “i guess i’ve been through a lot,” she said after a moment, her voice hollow.

“i know,” he said, his throat tightening. “but it’s more than that. it’s like… it’s like you’ve disappeared into yourself. like you’re afraid to be seen.”

her breath hitched, and she turned her head away, but he reached out, his hand covering hers on the counter. “you don’t have to hide from me,” he said gently. “not ever.”

her lip trembled again, but she nodded, squeezing his hand back.

“there’s no one in this world who deserves happiness more than you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “and i’m going to make sure you find it. no matter how long it takes.”

her tears fell silently, but she didn’t pull away. for the first time in a long time, she let herself believe him.

the room was quiet except for the soft clinking of forks against plates. y/n picked at her breakfast, her movements slow and distracted. bukayo watched her carefully, the way her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for her coffee, the way her eyes stayed fixed on the counter as if it might give her answers she couldn’t find within herself.

he stood after a while, glancing at the clock. “i’ve got training,” he said, his tone reluctant, “but i’ll be back as soon as i can.”

he set his fork down, breaking the silence. “you can stay here for as long as you need. you don’t have to figure everything out right now.”

her lips pressed into a thin line, and she nodded, her voice quiet when she finally spoke. “thank you, bukayo. i… i brought my work laptop. i figured i’d try to keep up with work so i don’t fall behind.”

his brows furrowed in concern. “are you sure you’re okay to work? you’ve been through… a lot. no one would blame you if you took some time for yourself.”

she let out a bitter laugh, one that held no joy. “i’ll be fine. i’ve had a lot of practice pretending to be okay.” her voice broke at the end, and she quickly looked away, her hand trembling as she reached for her mug.

his chest ached at her words, and he reached out, covering her hand with his own. “you don’t have to do that with me, y/n. not now, not ever. you never have to pretend with me.”

she swallowed hard, her eyes glistening as she nodded. “i know,” she whispered, her voice so soft he almost didn’t hear her.

he hesitated for a moment before continuing, his voice steady but firm. “before i leave to get ready for training, i need you to give me the key to your flat.”

her head snapped up, her eyes wide with worry. “bukayo, no. you can’t—”

“i can,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “i’ll go after training and get your stuff. whatever you need. you don’t have to go back there. not ever.”

“but what if…” her voice wavered, her hands clutching the edge of the counter. “what if he’s there? what if something happens?”

his jaw tightened, and he leaned closer, his voice low and steady. “nothing’s going to happen. i’ll be fine. i promise you, y/n. i’m not letting him hurt you anymore. but you don’t need to worry about that. focus on yourself right now.”

her lip trembled, and she nodded reluctantly, reaching into her bag to fish out the spare key. her hands shook as she handed it to him, and he took it with a gentle squeeze of her fingers.

“i’ll bring back everything you need,” he said softly. “clothes, your work stuff, anything that’s important to you. you just stay here and rest, okay?”

“okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

he leaned down, brushing a kiss to the top of her head again. “you’re safe here. you’re safe with me.”

as he walked away to get ready for training, y/n stayed seated at the counter, her fingers tracing the edge of her mug. for the first time in a long time, she felt the tiniest sliver of hope breaking through the dark cloud that had loomed over her for so long.

it was late afternoon when bukayo pulled up to y/n’s flat, the sun dipping low enough to cast long shadows across the parking lot. he stepped out of his car, taking a deep breath before walking toward the building, clutching the spare key she’d given him that morning. every step felt heavier as he imagined what he might find inside—what she’d endured for who knows how long.

the door clicked open, and the staleness of the air hit him first. it smelled faintly of something sour, like old takeout or unwashed laundry. his stomach turned as he stepped inside and took in the state of the place.

clothes were scattered across the floor, dishes piled high in the sink with grime crusted on their edges. there were dents in the walls, some barely noticeable, others glaringly obvious, as if someone had hit them in a fit of rage. the coffee table was overturned, and the shattered remains of what used to be a picture frame lay near the sofa. the picture inside had been crumpled, one edge charred as if it had been set on fire before being abandoned.

his jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. this was where she lived? this chaos, this mess, this warzone—this was what she came home to every day?

he moved quickly, grabbing what he could. he started with the essentials: her clothes, her work things, the books and knick-knacks that she always kept close to her. he filled bag after bag, making trip after trip to his car, practically clearing out the flat. but every time he returned for another load, his anger simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

on his final trip back inside, he was gathering the last few items when he heard the front door creak open behind him.

“what the hell are you doing here?”

ethan’s voice was sharp, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. bukayo didn’t turn immediately, taking a steadying breath before standing upright and facing him.

ethan was smaller than he’d imagined—not physically, but in presence. he had a wiry frame, his posture slouched as if he couldn’t even hold himself up properly. his eyes darted nervously, betraying the bravado in his tone.

“i’m here for y/n’s things,” bukayo said evenly, his voice calm but laced with an edge that made ethan falter.

“she sent you? of course, she did. couldn’t even face me herself, huh? typical,” ethan sneered, though his voice wavered slightly.

bukayo’s eyes narrowed. “she doesn’t need to face you. not after everything you’ve done to her.”

ethan let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “what do you even know about it? you think you’re some kind of hero, swooping in to save her? she’s not worth it, mate. she’s weak, always has been.”

the words hit bukayo like a match to gasoline, but he forced himself to stay calm. he isn’t worth it. he isn’t worth it. the mantra played on repeat in his mind as he stepped closer, just enough to make ethan take a step back.

“weak?” bukayo’s voice was low, steady, dangerous. “she’s the strongest person i know. stronger than you’ll ever be.”

ethan scoffed, but the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. “whatever, man. take her shit and go. she’s nothing but trouble anyway.”

bukayo took another step forward, and ethan stumbled back, tripping over his own feet and landing awkwardly against the wall. he scrambled to his feet, his face pale as he looked up at bukayo.

“you don’t scare me,” ethan muttered, though his trembling hands said otherwise.

bukayo leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “you should be scared. but lucky for you, i’m not going to do anything. because unlike you, i have too much to lose. but if you ever come near her again—if you so much as think about her—you’ll regret it.”

ethan’s mouth opened as if to retort, but no words came out. bukayo turned and walked past him, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles ached.

“she’s just going to ruin your life, you know,” ethan called after him, his voice dripping with malice. “she’s good at that.”

bukayo stopped in the doorway, his shoulders stiffening. for a moment, he considered turning back, letting his anger take over. but then he thought of y/n, waiting for him, trusting him to keep his promise.

without looking back, he said, “you don’t get to talk about her like that. not anymore.”

he stepped outside, slamming the door behind him, the sound echoing through the hallway. as he loaded the last of her belongings into his car, his hands shook—not from fear, but from the effort it took to hold himself back.

when he finally drove away, leaving ethan and that flat behind, he felt a sense of relief. she was safe now, and that was all that mattered. but as he gripped the steering wheel, his jaw tight, he knew one thing for certain: if ethan ever crossed their path again, there would be no holding back.

y/n sat on the couch in bukayo’s living room, knees pulled up to her chest as she stared blankly at the muted television. her mind felt heavy, weighed down by memories she couldn’t seem to escape. the house was quiet, the faint hum of the fridge the only sound, but inside her head, the noise was deafening.

she didn’t even know how she’d let it get this far.

at first, ethan had been nothing but kind. he wasn’t the loudest or the flashiest, but he had a way with words—a sweet talker who always knew just what to say to make her feel seen. and at the time, that had been enough. she hardly even liked him in the beginning, but he was persistent, making advances she brushed off until she couldn’t anymore.

she let out a shaky sigh, her fingers curling tighter around her knees. it wasn’t like she’d fallen for him—not really. no, it had been something else entirely. she thought maybe being with him would ease the ache in her heart, the one that had started when bukayo’s texts and calls grew less frequent.

first-year uni had been harder than she’d expected. the workload was suffocating, and the loneliness even more so. bukayo was busy training with the first team, his career taking off in ways they’d both dreamed of. she should’ve been happy for him—she was happy for him—but there was an ache she couldn’t shake.

she could still remember the way his texts had changed, the shift from long, heartfelt messages to short, clipped replies. she told herself he was just busy, that it wasn’t personal, but it hurt all the same. and the calls… god, the calls. those used to be her lifeline. late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours, his voice soft and warm in her ear as they talked about everything and nothing.

but then the calls became less frequent too.

she closed her eyes, her breath hitching as the memories washed over her. ethan had been there, slipping into the cracks bukayo had unknowingly left behind. at first, it was just harmless attention—a distraction from the loneliness. and then, one day, she decided to give him a chance.

he wasn’t always like this.

it started so slowly she almost didn’t notice. the offhand comments that felt like jokes but left a sour taste in her mouth. the way he’d brush off her achievements like they were nothing. the subtle control, the way he’d make her feel guilty for spending time with her friends or focusing on her studies.

and then, one day, it wasn’t so subtle anymore.

her hand trembled as she reached up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. she felt so foolish now, looking back. she thought she could fix it, that if she just tried harder, loved him more, he’d go back to being the man she thought he was. but it was never enough.

“how did it get like this?” she whispered to the empty room, her voice cracking.

the silence offered no answers, only the weight of her own thoughts pressing down on her. she thought about the way bukayo had looked at her last night, his eyes filled with anger and hurt—not at her, but for her. he’d held her like she was something fragile, something precious, and for the first time in years, she’d felt… safe.

but now, sitting here alone, the shame crept back in. how could she have let this happen? how could she have stayed so long, let herself be broken down piece by piece?

she pressed her palms to her face, her breath shuddering as more tears slipped free.

“y/n?”

her head snapped up at the sound of bukayo’s voice. he stood in the doorway, concern etched into his features.

“i—i’m fine,” she said quickly, wiping at her cheeks. but her voice betrayed her, breaking on the last word.

he crossed the room in a few quick strides, kneeling in front of her. “don’t do that,” he said softly. “don’t pretend with me.”

her lips trembled, her hands falling uselessly into her lap. “i just… i don’t know how it got like this. i don’t know why i stayed.”

his eyes softened, and he reached out, gently taking her hands in his. “it’s not your fault. none of this is your fault.”

she shook her head, more tears spilling over. “but i let it happen. i should’ve left—”

“you did leave,” he interrupted, his grip on her hands tightening just slightly. “you’re here now. that’s what matters.”

she looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, the weight on her chest lifted just enough for her to breathe.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered.

“don’t be.” his voice was steady, unwavering. “you don’t have to apologize for anything. not to me.”

he held her and they walked together to the guest room he set up for her. y/n’s breath caught in her throat when she stepped into the room. the sight was overwhelming—her suitcases, clothes, books, even the small things she hadn’t expected him to grab. everything from her flat with ethan was here. it was like he’d moved her entire life out of that place, packed it up, and brought it to safety.

she turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper. “you… you brought all my stuff?”

he stood in the doorway, his hands shoved into his pockets, a nervous energy about him. “yeah. everything i could fit in my car. i’ll go back tomorrow to get the rest.”

“you didn’t have to—”

“i did,” he interrupted, his voice firm but kind. “you’re not going back there, y/n. not ever.”

her lips trembled, and she looked away, her arms wrapping around herself. “i don’t even know what to say.”

“then don’t say anything,” he said softly, stepping closer. “just know you can stay here. as long as you need.”

her eyes darted to his, searching his face for any sign of pity. “i don’t want to be a burden, bukayo. i don’t—”

“don’t,” he cut her off again, his tone sharpening slightly. “you’re not a burden. i want you here. not because you’re broken, but because you’re you.”

her chest tightened at his words, a fresh wave of emotion washing over her. she turned away, unable to hold his gaze, but he wasn’t having it.

he gently reached for her arm, turning her back toward him. “look at me.”

she shook her head, her voice breaking. “you don’t understand. i am broken, bukayo. ethan—he… he broke me.”

the confession came out in a rush, her voice raw and trembling. it was the first time she’d said it out loud, and it felt like ripping a wound wide open.

bukayo’s jaw clenched, his hand dropping to his side as he took a steadying breath. “no, y/n,” he said, his voice low but certain. “he tried to break you. but you’re still here. you got out. that doesn’t make you broken—that makes you strong.”

she let out a shaky laugh, though it was laced with disbelief. “strong? i don’t feel strong. i feel like a mess. i feel… lost.”

“then let me help you find your way,” he said, stepping closer. “you don’t have to do this alone. not anymore.”

her tears fell freely now, and she didn’t bother to wipe them away. “why are you doing this? why are you being so kind to me?”

his expression softened, his hand lifting to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “because i care about you. i always have. and i can’t stand the thought of you feeling like this.”

she shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “but i am broken, bukayo.”

“you’re not,” he insisted, his hand lingering at her cheek. “you’re hurt, and you’re healing. but you’re not broken. not to me.”

the sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes held hers without a trace of doubt—it was almost too much. she leaned into his touch, her forehead pressing against his chest as her sobs overtook her.

bukayo wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, protectively. “you’re safe here,” he murmured, his voice steady. “with me. always.”

she nodded against him, her hands clutching at his shirt. for the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself believe it. safe. she was safe. and she wasn’t alone.

it had been nearly six weeks since y/n had started staying with bukayo, and though the bruises on her skin had faded, the ones on her heart hadn’t. she was still processing everything, still unraveling the knots ethan had tied around her mind. some days were better than others—days where she’d almost feel like herself again. but most were heavy, her reflection in the mirror unrecognizable, her laughter a ghost of what it used to be.

she’d resumed therapy online, her sessions every thursday at 2 pm sharp, but it felt like there were so many layers to peel back, and the work ahead of her felt daunting. her job was still remote for now, and she’d thrown herself into it, not because she loved it but because it kept her busy. her days were spent at bukayo’s dining table, her laptop open, work documents spread around her. she rarely left his place—it was the only space she felt safe.

he never complained, not once.

bukayo came home late that night, the sound of the front door clicking shut pulling her from her trance as she stared blankly at the laptop screen. she’d been trying to write an email for an hour, but the words wouldn’t come.

he appeared in the doorway, his kit bag slung over one shoulder, his face tired but lit with that soft smile he always gave her. “hey,” he said, his voice warm. “you’ve been at that all day?”

she nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “yeah. thought i’d get more done, but…” she gestured vaguely at the laptop, “it’s one of those days.”

he set his bag down and walked over, leaning against the table as he looked at her. “you need a break, y/n. you’ve been working too much.”

she glanced up at him, her lips twitching into the faintest smile. “look who’s talking. you just played ninety minutes and still came home with enough energy to scold me.”

“not scolding,” he corrected, his smile softening. “just worried.”

she didn’t answer, looking back down at her screen.

“what’s wrong?” he asked gently, pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down.

she hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. “i just… i feel like i’m intruding on your life. i’ve been here for weeks, bukayo. this is your space, and i’m just… taking over.”

his brows furrowed, and he reached out, his hand resting lightly over hers. “y/n, you’re not intruding. this is your space too, for as long as you need it.”

“but it’s not,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “i feel like i’m just… in the way. and you’re always so good to me, bukayo. always saving me. i feel bad for… for needing you like this.”

his grip on her hand tightened just slightly, his voice firm but still gentle. “don’t say that. don’t you dare feel bad for needing me. you’re not in the way, y/n. you’re never in the way.”

her eyes welled up, and she looked away, blinking rapidly. “you shouldn’t have to deal with this. with me. i’m so—”

“don’t,” he cut her off softly but firmly, turning her face toward him with a careful hand under her chin. “don’t call yourself anything other than what you are: strong. brave. surviving.”

she let out a shaky breath, her tears falling freely now. “you’re always saving me, bukayo,” she whispered. “i don’t know how to stop leaning on you.”

“then don’t,” he said simply. “you can lean on me for as long as you need. i love coming home to you, y/n. i love knowing you’re here. and i’m not saving you—you’re saving yourself. i’m just here to make sure you don’t do it alone.”

she closed her eyes at his words, a fresh wave of emotion washing over her. “i don’t know how i got so lucky to have you in my life.”

he smiled softly, his thumb brushing away a tear from her cheek. “you deserve so much more than luck, y/n. you deserve the world.”

they sat there in the quiet for a moment, her hand still in his, the warmth of his presence filling the space around them.

here’s the updated version with the new sibling names:

the living room grew quieter as the evening went on, the laughter and conversation slowly tapering off. y/n could feel the weight of her brothers’ gazes on her, their unspoken questions hanging heavy in the air.

she sat on the edge of the couch, her fingers twisting the hem of her sweater. bukayo sat beside her, his arm resting on the back of the couch, close enough to support her without crowding her.

her younger brother, isaiah, was the first to speak, his tone gentle but firm. “you’ve been quiet all night, y/n. is something going on?”

her heart pounded in her chest. she looked at bukayo, who gave her a subtle nod, his eyes steady and reassuring.

“i—” her voice faltered, her throat tightening. she took a shaky breath, her hands trembling. “i need to tell you something. all of you.”

the room stilled, her family leaning in closer, their concern palpable.

“he… ethan,” she began, her voice breaking on his name. “he hurt me.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. her mother gasped softly, her hand flying to her chest. her father’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable.

but it was emmanuel and isaiah, her two brothers, who reacted the most. emmanuel shot to his feet, his fists clenched, his face a storm of emotions. “what do you mean he hurt you?”

isaiah’s voice was quieter, but no less intense. “y/n, what are you saying?”

tears welled in her eyes as she looked down at her hands. “he was… abusive. emotionally. physically. it started small, but it got worse. i’ve been staying with bukayo for the past few weeks because i couldn’t stay there anymore.”

emmanuel swore under his breath, pacing the room like a caged animal. “he put his hands on you? that—” he stopped himself, his voice shaking with anger. “that bastard.”

isaiah leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his face pale. “how long?” he asked quietly.

“too long,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “i thought… i thought i could handle it. that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. but it was.”

“why didn’t you tell us?” emmanuel demanded, his voice cracking. “why didn’t you come to us?”

“i was scared,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “and ashamed. i didn’t want you to see me like that. i didn’t want you to know.”

“y/n,” isaiah said, his voice breaking as he moved to kneel in front of her, taking her hands in his. “you’re our sister. you don’t ever have to hide from us. you hear me? never.”

emmanuel stopped pacing and turned to face her, his eyes blazing. “where is he? where’s ethan? because if i see him—”

“emmanuel, stop,�� she interrupted, her voice firm despite her tears. “please. bukayo already promised me he wouldn’t do anything, and i need you to promise me the same. i just want to move on. i don’t want this to turn into something worse.”

emmanuel looked like he wanted to argue, his fists still clenched, but isaiah placed a hand on his arm. “she’s right,” isaiah said quietly. “this isn’t about him. it’s about her. what she needs.”

emmanuel exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. “fine. but if he comes near you again—”

“he won’t,” bukayo spoke for the first time, his voice calm but resolute. “i made sure of that when i went to get her things.”

all eyes turned to him, and he met their gazes steadily. “she’s safe now. and she’ll stay safe.”

emmanuel’s jaw worked as he stared at bukayo, then nodded tightly. “thank you. for looking out for her.”

bukayo nodded back, his hand brushing against y/n’s shoulder. “always.”

her mother moved to sit beside her, pulling her into a tight embrace. “oh, my baby,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “i’m so sorry you went through that. i wish you’d told us sooner.”

“me too,” y/n said softly, her tears soaking into her mother’s shoulder.

the room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of her quiet sobs. her brothers sat close, their anger simmering beneath the surface, but their love and concern for her were undeniable.

she wasn’t sure how she’d find her way back to herself, but with bukayo and her family by her side, she felt like she had a chance.

the soft glow of the television bathed the living room in hues of blue and gold, the low hum of the movie filling the quiet between them. y/n sat curled into the corner of the couch, a blanket draped over her legs, her head resting lightly against the cushion. bukayo was next to her, relaxed, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him.

her mind, however, was far from the screen. her therapist’s words echoed in her head, a persistent whisper that refused to fade.

“bukayo seems to be a constant in your life,” her therapist had said during their last session. “the way you speak about him… have you thought about what he means to you? what role he plays in your healing?”

the question had stayed with her, simmering beneath the surface, until now, as she stole a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. he wasn’t paying attention to the movie either, his focus drifting as he played with the edge of the blanket.

he had been a topic in her sessions for weeks now, the name that always brought a sense of comfort and complication all at once. she knew what her therapist had been hinting at, what she herself had avoided for so long.

her feelings for him weren’t platonic. they hadn’t been for a while now.

but how could she even entertain the idea? she was a mess, a shell of who she used to be. how could someone like him—kind, steady, whole—ever want to be with someone like her?

she forced herself to look back at the screen, trying to quiet the noise in her head. the film blurred in front of her eyes, the plot lost on her.

before she could stop herself, she reached for the remote and paused the movie.

“why don’t you date?” she blurted, her voice softer than she intended.

bukayo blinked, startled, and then turned to her with a small smile. “that’s random,” he said, his tone light.

she shrugged, feeling the weight of her curiosity pressing down on her. “i’ve just… always wondered. you’re bukayo saka. you could probably have anyone you wanted.”

he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her. “is it not obvious?”

her heart stumbled, her pulse quickening. “obvious?”

he gave her a pointed look, his expression soft but serious. “it’s you, y/n.”

she froze, her breath catching. “me?”

he nodded, his gaze unwavering. “you’ve always been it for me. even when we were just kids, i think i knew. and when you left, i thought maybe… i’d get over it. but then you came back, and everything just fell into place again. i didn’t date because… how could i? when all i’ve ever wanted is you?”

her throat tightened, her chest aching with the weight of his words. “bukayo…”

“i don’t want to rush you,” he continued, his voice soft but firm. “i know you’re still healing, and i don’t want you to feel any pressure. but if you’re asking why i don’t date… it’s because i’ve been waiting. for you.”

tears pricked her eyes as she looked down at her hands. “i don’t know if i’m ready for this. for us.”

“that’s okay,” he said, his hand brushing against hers. “we can take it at your pace. whatever you’re comfortable with. i just… i needed you to know.”

she looked up at him, her vision blurry with tears. “would you… would you go on a date with me? a real one?”

his smile was soft, his eyes shining with something she hadn’t seen in a long time—hope. “yeah,” he said, his voice steady. “i’d like that.”

she nodded, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “okay. but can we go slow. and you can pick the place. i trust you."

“deal,” he said, leaning back into the couch, his hand still close to hers.

the movie played on, but neither of them were watching anymore. the quiet between them wasn’t heavy this time; it was full of promise, of something new. something worth waiting for.

y/n hadn’t been home in weeks, but the moment she stepped through the door, it felt like no time had passed. the familiar hum of her sisters’ voices filled the air, a mix of teasing and excitement as they pulled her upstairs to her old room.

“so,” tope started, arms crossed as she surveyed y/n from head to toe. “you’re finally going on a date with bukayo.”

“it’s not finally,” y/n mumbled, sitting on the edge of her bed while the other two rummaged through her wardrobe. “we’ve been… figuring things out.”

“figuring things out,” said adora with a scoff, holding up a dress that y/n hadn’t seen in years. “girl, you’ve been living with him for weeks. weeks!”

“it’s not like that,” y/n tried, but the words fell flat, even to her.

adaora raised a brow. “really? so it’s just coincidence he’s been in love with you since forever?”

y/n’s head shot up. “what are you talking about?”

tope dropped onto the bed beside her, a sly smile playing on her lips. “don’t act like you don’t know. bukayo’s been in love with you since we were kids. and it’s not just us who noticed.”

“everyone noticed,” adora added, pulling out a skirt and tossing it onto the growing pile on the bed. “you’re just the only one who didn’t.”

“that’s not true,” y/n said, though her voice wavered.

“oh, please,” tope said with a laugh. “do you remember the easter egg hunts? how you always won?”

y/n frowned. “i was just good at finding them.”

“you were good at nothing,” adora teased. “he used to sneak extra eggs into your basket when no one was looking. you think you won because of skill? nah, sis. you won because bukayo was out there rigging the game for you.”

“what?” y/n’s cheeks burned as she looked between them.

“and that’s not even the cutest thing,” tope chimed in. “do you remember when you broke your ankle during that stupid race in secondary school?”

y/n winced at the memory. “what about it?”

“he carried you all the way to the nurse’s office,” toyi said, leaning back on her hands. “even though he could’ve just called for help. he didn’t let anyone else touch you.”

“and then he brought you ice cream every day after school until you were better,” adora added, grinning. “even missed his football training for it.”

y/n stared at them, her heart twisting in her chest. “he didn’t miss training.”

“he did,” tope said, her voice softer now. “you just never knew because he didn’t want you to feel bad about it.”

y/n swallowed hard, the weight of their words settling over her. how had she been so blind?

“okay, enough reminiscing,” adora said, clapping her hands. “let’s get you ready for this date before bukayo gets impatient.”

“more like ‘get your husband,’” tope teased, a wide grin spreading across her face.

y/n groaned, but her cheeks burned. “you two are insufferable.”

“we’re right,” onyinye said, handing y/n her bag. “now go. and don’t mess this up.”

“no pressure,” y/n said dryly, but her smile lingered as she left the house.

the butterflies in her stomach grew with each step closer to bukayo. tonight wasn’t just about the date—it was about finally letting herself see what had been there all along.

bukayo didn’t bother knocking. he never had to. the ajayi household had always been as much his home as his own, and even now, it felt like second nature to step inside. the familiar scent of spices and fresh flowers hit him immediately, grounding him in a way few places could.

“bukayo!” y/n’s dad greeted from the couch, setting his newspaper down with a grin. “how’s my boy?”

“i’m good, sir. how are you?” bukayo asked, leaning in for a quick handshake before nodding at emmanuel, who sat sprawled out on the other end of the couch.

“better now that i see you two have finally come to your senses,” emmanuel teased, smirking.

bukayo chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah, well… it was about time, wasn’t it?”

“you’re telling us?” her dad said with a laugh, shaking his head. “we’ve been waiting years for this moment. thought i’d have to give you both a push eventually.”

bukayo was about to reply when a soft voice called from the top of the stairs. “is he here?”

time seemed to stop. he turned, and there she was.

y/n stood at the top of the staircase, her hand brushing the railing as she descended. she was radiant, her hair styled in soft waves that framed her face, her dress hugging her figure just right. she’d always been beautiful to him—whether she was in sweats or a hoodie—but tonight, she took his breath away.

she smiled shyly when their eyes met, and he swore his heart skipped a beat.

“wow,” he said softly, barely aware he’d spoken aloud.

her dad chuckled, nudging emmanuel. “look at him. he’s done for.”

“completely,” emmanuel agreed, grinning.

bukayo barely heard them. all he could see was her. in that moment, it wasn’t just y/n walking down the stairs—it was his future. everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d been too scared to name, was right there in front of him.

when she reached him, she tilted her head, her brow lifting in curiosity. “you okay?”

“yeah,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “you look… amazing.”

her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “thank you.”

he offered his hand, and she took it, her touch grounding him in the best way. “ready?”

“ready,” she said, her voice steady even as her heart raced.

as they stepped out the door, her dad’s voice followed them. “don’t keep her out too late, bukayo.”

“no promises, sir,” he called back, earning a laugh from emmanuel.

but as they walked to his car, hand in hand, nothing else mattered. tonight was theirs.

the cab came to a gentle stop, the city lights of london flickering outside, reflecting off the glass windows of the high-end restaurant they’d arrived at. it looked like something from a dream—modern, sleek, almost intimidating in its perfection. yet, for y/n, it felt like stepping into a world that didn’t belong to her, one that felt too far removed from everything she’d been through.

bukayo was quick to get out of the cab, rushing around to open the door for her, ever the gentleman. she took a moment before stepping out, letting her feet graze the pavement, the weight of her past still lingering in her chest, but just a little lighter now. he was here, and that meant the world.

as soon as she stepped out, the cool night air hit her skin, grounding her. she looked up at the tall building, and the warmth inside seeped through the windows, contrasting with the chilly outside world. her heart skipped a beat at the thought of everything this evening meant. it wasn’t just about the fine dining or the fancy place—it was about the person she was with. and for the first time in a long while, she felt seen, not just as the broken woman who had been through hell, but as someone deserving of all this beauty.

bukayo took her hand gently, his fingers brushing over hers like he was afraid to hold on too tightly. yet, the touch sent a warmth through her she hadn’t realized she’d been craving. he looked at her, his gaze steady, unwavering. “you good?” he asked, the softness of his voice making her heart flutter.

she took a deep breath, letting the air fill her lungs, trying to steady the rapid beat of her heart. “i’m just—” she paused, unsure of how to explain what she was feeling. “i don’t know if i deserve this. all of this,” she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly.

bukayo stepped a little closer, his proximity soothing, like he was anchoring her in the present. the street noise faded away as he took a small step forward, closing the gap between them. “you deserve it,” he said quietly, but the sincerity in his words made her stomach twist. “you’ve always deserved it. all of it.”

y/n looked at him, the intensity in his eyes making something inside her shift. she swallowed the lump in her throat, trying not to let her emotions spill over. “i don’t know how to believe that,” she murmured, almost to herself. “i feel like i’ve been living in the shadows for so long.”

he gently cupped her face, his palm warm against her skin, grounding her in the moment. his thumb brushed across her cheekbone, like he was trying to wipe away everything that had hurt her. “you don’t have to believe it yet,” he said softly, his voice low, steady. “just let me show you. let me be here for you.”

y/n’s chest tightened, and before she could stop it, her eyes welled up. she blinked rapidly, pushing back the tears, unwilling to let them fall. she felt her throat close, the weight of everything she’d been through threatening to drown her.

bukayo’s voice cut through the silence, his words gentle but firm. “no more tears for me, y/n,” he whispered, his forehead touching hers, a breath away. “none. not tonight. not for what’s behind us.”

she held her breath, the tenderness of his words overwhelming her. she closed her eyes for a moment, letting the soft sound of his voice wash over her. for once, she didn’t feel like she was carrying the weight of the world. she wasn’t broken, not anymore. but the journey to getting here had left its marks, and the vulnerability of it all made her tremble inside.

"i don’t know how to thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“you don’t have to,” he replied, his lips brushing against her forehead, soft and lingering. “just let me be here for you, for everything that comes next.”

her chest swelled, the tightness in her heart loosening just enough for the words to sink in. he wasn’t asking for anything from her. he was just... there. a steady presence, unwavering and real. the kind of love she had been afraid to let herself believe in.

as they stood there, in the middle of a city that never slept, everything felt so still. the noise of the world seemed so distant, and all she could focus on was him. him, who had always been there, even when she couldn’t see it. him, who had loved her when she hadn’t been able to love herself. and in that moment, she let herself believe it—she wasn’t broken. and she didn’t have to fix herself alone.

bukayo’s hands rested on her shoulders, his grip gentle but strong. he looked at her with the kind of intensity that made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered. “no more tears for me,” he repeated softly, as if making a promise she could hold onto.

and for the first time in what felt like forever, y/n believed him.

the world, the city, the lights—it all felt like it was fading away, leaving just the two of them. and she knew, in that moment, that no matter what came next, she wouldn’t face it alone. not anymore.

she finally nodded, a small, shaky smile crossing her lips. “okay,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “no more tears. just... this.”

he smiled back, the warmth in his eyes filling the space between them. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “good,” he said quietly, his voice a comfort. “now let’s go inside.”

they walked hand in hand toward the entrance, the door opening to the soft hum of a busy evening inside, but for y/n, the only thing that mattered was that she was here, with him.

the night had unfolded so effortlessly, like the two of them had always been meant to be here, to be together in this moment. after dinner, they walked the quiet streets of london, their hands intertwined, hearts beating a rhythm that felt so right. they talked about everything and nothing, the hours slipping by without either of them noticing. with bukayo by her side, y/n felt like she could breathe again, like all the weight that had been sitting on her chest for so long was finally lifted.

as they reached his building, the quiet of the night enveloped them, but there was a warmth between them that kept the cold at bay. bukayo walked her to his door, his hand still holding hers, the silence between them comfortable. they stood there for a moment, not wanting to let go, as if neither of them wanted this night to end.

but bukayo couldn’t ignore the pull he felt towards her anymore. he had known, for so long, that there was something between them that was undeniable. tonight had been everything he wanted and more, but he knew that it was only the beginning.

they stood there in the quiet of the night, the world around them fading away as their gazes locked. bukayo could feel the weight of the moment, the beating of his heart loud in his chest. he had been holding this in for so long, too afraid of losing her, of ruining what they had, but tonight... tonight he couldn’t hold back any longer.

he gently cupped her face with both hands, his touch warm, tender, as if she might break under the weight of his words. he searched her eyes, as if looking for some kind of answer, some sign that she felt the same, that she understood what he was about to say.

“y/n, i don’t know how to say this without sounding like a fool, but i’ve been in love with you for longer than i can even remember. longer than i’ve admitted to myself. i didn’t know how to say it, i didn’t know if you would even want to hear it, but i can’t keep pretending anymore, not when you’ve been standing here in front of me, being everything i never thought i could have.”

his voice cracked slightly, emotion thick in his words. “you’ve been my light, my constant. through everything. i’ve watched you grow, i’ve seen you break and rebuild yourself, and all i wanted to do was be the one to hold you when it felt like the world was too heavy. you don’t even realize how much of my life you’ve been in, how much i’ve thought about you, how much i’ve missed you when you weren’t even here.”

he paused, taking a breath, his thumb brushing over her cheek as if to memorize the feeling of her skin, of her presence. “when i look at you, i don’t see just the girl i’ve known for so long. i see the woman you’ve become, the strength in you that never faltered, even when everything was falling apart. and all i want, all i’ve ever wanted, is to be there for you. not because you need saving, but because you deserve everything good, everything beautiful, everything that i can give you.”

his voice softened, sincerity filling every word as he spoke. “you’re not broken, y/n. you’re stronger than you know. and if you’ll have me, i’ll spend the rest of my life showing you just how much you mean to me. i’ll love you with everything i have, with everything i am, and i’ll never stop. because you’re my heart. you always have been.”

he took another step closer, his forehead gently touching hers, their breaths mingling as the air around them seemed to stand still. “so here i am, standing in front of you, giving you every piece of me, hoping you’ll let me be the one to love you the way you deserve to be loved. y/n... i love you. i always have, and i always will.”

the words hung in the air, the intensity of them filling the space between them. there was no doubt, no hesitation. just love.

y/n stood there, her heart racing, the weight of his words sinking deep into her chest. she had never imagined this moment would come—at least not like this. but here it was, the truth laid bare between them. she could feel the overwhelming emotions rising within her, her own love for him bubbling up from a place deep within, something she had buried for so long.

her hands trembled as she reached up, gently brushing the hair from his forehead, her fingers trembling with the unspoken words she had kept hidden for so long. she looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, but her smile, despite everything, was soft. “bukayo…” she started, her voice thick with emotion, a slight crack in it as she spoke his name. it felt so heavy, so right, to finally say it out loud.

“you’ve been my constant, too. you’ve always been there, even when i couldn’t see it, even when i was too lost in my own pain to realize it. you’ve been the one person who never gave up on me, who kept showing up, who kept being there, no matter how far apart we were. i never knew how much i needed you until i had you, and now that i’ve seen what love could really be, what it could look like, i’m scared of letting go of this—letting go of us.”

her voice wavered as she spoke, the vulnerability pouring out of her in waves. “i’ve been terrified, bukayo. terrified that i’m too broken, too damaged. that someone like you, someone so good, would never see me the way i see you. that i didn’t deserve you. but you’ve proven me wrong. you’ve shown me time and time again that you’re not here to fix me, you’re here to love me. to love all of me, the good, the bad, the messy, the imperfect.”

she paused, her hands now gripping his shirt, grounding herself in this moment, in him. “i love you too. i’ve loved you for so long, even when i didn’t have the courage to admit it to myself. you’re the first person i’ve ever felt truly safe with, and that means more to me than you’ll ever understand.”

her voice dropped to a whisper, the words so intimate, so raw, as she closed the space between them, her forehead resting gently against his. “i love you, bukayo. i’ve always loved you. and i never want to let you go. never again.”

the words felt like a release, a freedom she hadn’t known she was holding on to. and as she whispered them, she felt a weight lift off her chest, like she was finally home.

y/n’s breath caught in her throat as the words left her lips, her heart pounding with anticipation. the weight of the confession still hung between them, the room suddenly feeling smaller, the air thick with the undeniable tension that had been building for so long.

she couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips, her eyes searching his, the look of love and vulnerability in her gaze. "are you gonna kiss me goodnight now, bukayo?" she asked softly, her voice laced with both playful teasing and the raw sincerity of her feelings.

she stepped a little closer, her body just inches from his, her pulse quickening as she waited for his response. there was something about the way the words slipped from her lips, the way she dared him to close the space between them that made her heart race even more.

the smile on her face faltered slightly when she saw the way his eyes softened, the warmth in them enough to melt any lingering doubt. she knew what was coming next—knew it in the way he looked at her, in the way he stepped closer, the space between them closing as if nothing else in the world mattered.

and when he kissed her, it was everything. it was slow, a soft exploration of all the words they had yet to speak. their lips met with the tenderness of two souls who had found each other after all this time. the kiss deepened, the world around them falling away as they lost themselves in the closeness, in the warmth of the love they had both been holding back.

when they finally pulled away, breathless, their foreheads resting together, neither of them said a word. they didn’t need to. the love between them was more than enough.

bukayo smiled softly, his hands still holding her, not wanting to let go. "i’m not letting you go, y/n. not now, not ever."

y/n smiled, her heart full. "i’m not going anywhere, bukayo. i’m here. always."

and in that moment, everything felt right. they had found each other again, and no matter what came next, they knew they would face it together.

with that, bukayo pulled her close again, unlocking his door with his free hand as they fell into his home — their home, capturing her lips with his once more. this time, there was no hesitation, no second thoughts. just the warmth of their love, the certainty that they had found their way back to each other.

the kiss deepened, their hands finding their way back to each other, pulling them closer still. the night outside faded into nothingness as they continued to kiss, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of being in each other's arms. and as they finally pulled apart once more, their smiles were the only thing that remained—the unspoken promise that no matter what had happened before, this was real. this was love.

EPILOGUE

life with bukayo had become everything y/n never knew she needed and more. it wasn’t just the big moments—the milestones, the holidays, the anniversaries—but the quiet, intimate ones too. like sitting on the couch after a long day, his hand in hers as they spoke softly about everything and nothing, or waking up to the sound of his voice, calling her name gently as he greeted a new day. those were the moments that made her feel like she was exactly where she was supposed to be. with him.

match days, however, were different. they were a rush of adrenaline, nerves, and excitement. y/n always found herself waiting anxiously in the family tunnel, her heart hammering as the players warmed up. her eyes would scan the field until they landed on him—bukayo, as calm as ever, his focus entirely on the game ahead. she couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach every time she saw him. watching him on the pitch was nothing short of mesmerizing. he moved with such ease, his talent so effortlessly clear. every pass, every movement, every tackle—y/n couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride, watching him do what he was born to do. she’d watch with a mixture of awe and affection, her heart swelling with every play.

and today was no different. bukayo had been on fire, dominating the match. y/n’s eyes were glued to him as he danced past defenders, his quick footwork making it look almost too easy. she couldn’t help but gasp at the way he navigated the pitch with such skill, making the game seem almost effortless. his smile when he scored—one of the most radiant things she had ever seen—sent warmth flooding through her. he was doing what he loved, and it showed. she was beyond proud of him, every moment of the match making her feel like the luckiest woman alive.

as the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the game, y/n’s heart was still racing. she couldn’t wait to see him, to tell him how incredible he had been. but she also wanted to savor the moment a little longer—just watching him, absorbing the glow of his accomplishment. it was a bittersweet thing, knowing that soon, she would be wrapped up in his arms, but for now, she let the memory of his match linger, replaying the key moments in her mind. he was such a natural, such a force on the field. how had she ever gotten so lucky to be with him?

soon enough, bukayo appeared in the tunnel, wiping the sweat from his brow as he approached her. she caught sight of him and her heart skipped a beat. he looked even more breathtaking up close, his athletic physique still visible under his track suit, and the raw energy of the game still radiating off him. his gaze met hers almost immediately, and his lips curled into a smile that made everything in her world stop for a moment. all that mattered was him, and the love she felt for him.

as he walked toward her, she couldn’t contain herself. her eyes shone with pride, a wide grin spreading across her face. "you were amazing today, bukayo," she gushed, her voice filled with admiration. "seriously, I’m so proud of you. the way you made those passes, the way you read the game—it was unreal." her hands moved animatedly, as if she couldn’t find the words quick enough to describe the incredible talent he had shown. "you’re just—" she paused, searching for the right words, "you’re the best. no one does it like you." her eyes shone with a mixture of love and awe, her heart still racing from the game, still buzzing with the pride of watching him perform.

he chuckled softly, shaking his head. "you’re making me blush, baby," he teased, his voice low and warm. he stepped closer, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "but hearing that from you means the world to me."

y/n smiled up at him, her heart full. "you deserve every bit of it," she said softly. "you’ve worked so hard for this. I’m just glad I get to be here, to see it all happen." her eyes met his, and for a moment, everything else in the world faded away. all that mattered was the connection between them, the bond that had only grown stronger with time.

as bukayo handed her the player of the match trophy, his eyes locked with hers, filled with so much emotion that y/n could hardly breathe. "this... this is for you," he said, his voice soft but strong, carrying all the weight of the love and gratitude he felt. "you’re the reason I’m here, why I play like I do. every step, every goal, it’s all for you."

y/n's heart swelled as she took the trophy from him, her hands shaking slightly from the intensity of the moment. she gazed up at him, her eyes shining with pride and love. "you make it look so easy," she whispered, "but I know how hard you’ve worked to get here. this trophy is a reflection of all of that."

he smiled, a smile so full of adoration that it nearly took her breath away. "nah, this one’s yours," he said, gently pressing her hand around the trophy. "because every time I look at you, every time I think of you, you make it all worth it. this is more than just a trophy to me—it’s a symbol of everything I’ve achieved because of you."

the words hung between them like a promise, and for a moment, everything else faded into the background. y/n beamed at him, her smile wide and full of love, knowing that this moment, this man, was everything she had ever dreamed of. he had been fighting for this—fighting for them—and she felt the weight of it all settle in her chest. he had done it, and now they were here. together.

"you’re everything to me, bukayo," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion, and he pulled her close, holding her in a moment that felt like the world had stopped just for them.

he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "I couldn’t do any of this without you," he murmured into her hair. "you’ve been my rock, y/n. you’re the reason I keep pushing, keep fighting."

her breath caught in her throat, and she hugged him tighter, feeling his heartbeat against hers. "I’m so proud of you, bukayo. I don’t think you realize just how amazing you are," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "my hero."

he pulled back slightly, his hands cupping her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "and you’re mine," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "always." his lips met hers in a soft kiss, lingering for a moment longer than usual, as if the weight of their words were settling in, grounding them in this moment.

after a few moments, they pulled away, their foreheads resting together as they stood there, taking in the quiet comfort of being in each other’s presence. "I just want to go home with you," bukayo said softly, his words heavy with affection. "wherever that is, as long as it’s with you."

y/n smiled, feeling her heart swell with love. "I feel the same way," she murmured. "home is wherever you are."

and as they walked off together, hand in hand, y/n knew that no matter where their journey took them, they would face it side by side. they had found something real, something that transcended anything they had ever imagined. and with every match, every day, and every kiss, she knew that she would never stop falling for him.

"so, when are you two getting married?" her mom would tease, and her siblings would join in, making playful remarks about wedding dates and engagement rings. bukayo would laugh, squeezing y/n’s hand tightly, a quiet promise in his eyes. the teasing never stopped, but the love between them was clear. they didn’t need anyone’s approval, not when they had each other.

as the days leading up to winter break dwindled away, bukayo and y/n couldn’t stop talking about their getaway. it had been a while since they’d had time for just the two of them—time to focus on nothing but their love, away from the chaos of work, training, and life’s daily demands. new york city had always been on their bucket list, a dream they had shared since the beginning. and now, with the holiday season just around the corner, they knew this was the perfect time to make it happen.

the moment they landed, it felt like the city itself had welcomed them with open arms. the cold air nipped at their skin, but it was the kind of chill that felt alive with possibilities, with adventure. the streets were bustling with holiday shoppers, the twinkling lights on every corner adding to the festive energy. there was music playing from every store, people laughing and chatting as they went about their business. but as they walked through the streets, hand in hand, all y/n could focus on was the man beside her. everything felt so right, like the universe had conspired to bring them here, to this place, at this time.

they explored the city together—taking in the sights of central park, stopping for coffee in the cutest little cafes, and strolling through the decorated storefronts that seemed straight out of a holiday movie. but no matter where they went or what they did, y/n felt like the luckiest person in the world, because she was with him. bukayo had always made her feel special, loved, and cherished, and as they laughed together, teasing each other and stealing kisses in the cold, she couldn’t help but think how perfect it all was.

as the day turned to night, and the countdown to midnight began, they made their way to times square, the heart of new york city’s new year celebrations. the atmosphere was electric, the anticipation in the air almost palpable. the streets were packed with people, everyone buzzing with excitement, their faces lit by the glow of a thousand lights. y/n held bukayo’s hand tightly, her heart racing with every step. she had dreamed of this moment for so long, and now that it was here, she could hardly believe it.

as they stood among the crowd, the familiar voices of the countdown echoed through the streets. 10… 9… 8… the excitement in the air grew with every passing second. y/n looked up at bukayo, her heart thundering in her chest. he looked back at her, his eyes full of warmth and love, his smile never leaving his face. it felt like everything they had been through—the distance, the challenges, the ups and downs—had led them here, to this perfect moment.

when the clock finally struck midnight, the sky erupted in a shower of colors, fireworks bursting overhead in a dazzling display. the crowd cheered, voices rising in unison, but in that moment, it was just the two of them. bukayo cupped her face in his hands, his touch warm against her cold skin, and as their lips met, everything else faded away. the kiss was soft at first, a gentle press of lips that quickly deepened, the passion of years of longing pouring into the moment. the fireworks above mirrored the sparks flying between them, lighting up the sky and their hearts.

"to us," bukayo whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled her closer, his arms strong around her waist.

"to us," y/n echoed, her heart so full she thought it might burst. she could feel the promise in his words, in the way he held her, in the way everything felt right between them. "always," she added, knowing that no matter what the future held, they would face it together.

they stayed there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the noise of the world around them blending into the background. the city, the lights, the people—they were all just details, nothing compared to the love they shared.

when they finally pulled away, still holding each other close, they shared a smile that said everything they didn’t need to say. it was the kind of smile that spoke of a future, of dreams they would chase together, of all the moments they had yet to experience. the future was wide open, and they would walk through it hand in hand.

as they walked back to their hotel that night, their hands intertwined, the lights of the city casting a soft glow around them, y/n felt something she hadn’t in so long: peace. there were no more doubts, no more insecurities, no more fears. just love. just them. she leaned her head against bukayo’s shoulder, her heart content and full.

"this is just the beginning, isn’t it?" y/n asked, her voice soft, but certain.

"yeah," bukayo replied, his hand tightening around hers. "this is just the beginning of everything."

and as they entered their hotel, the world outside forgotten, they knew that no matter what challenges life would throw their way, they would face them together. because in that moment, they had everything they ever needed—each other.

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