England's Greatest-Chapter 133 - 131: First Day Part 2 (End)

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..

Barbara stirred, stretching out her stiff limbs as her hair fell over her shoulders in a loose, messy wave. Sleep still clung to her even as she rubbed her eyes. She looked up slightly—the way Tristan was watching her made her chest feel... different.

Not uncomfortably—just something new.

She swallowed, her voice still laced with sleep. "You really didn't move?"

Tristan rolled one shoulder—the one she had been sleeping on—wincing lightly. "Nope."

Barbara blinked. "Tristan... you sat here for two hours?"

He shrugged, glancing toward the park. "You needed the rest."

Her stomach twisted.

Guilt. Embarrassment.

But also—something else.

Because he hadn't turned it into a joke. Hadn't teased her for passing out on him in public in the middle of the day. And he didn't treat it like a grand sacrifice, either.

He had just... stayed.

..

Barbara shifted slightly, adjusting the coat draped over their laps which had been used as a makeshift blanket.

Then, hesitantly—

"Thank you," she whispered.

Tristan turned back to her, shaking his head lightly. "You don't have to thank me."

Barbara held his stare for a long moment.

Then she sighed, leaning her head against the bench, and closing her eyes.

"You know..." she murmured, "I don't think I've ever let myself relax like that."

Tristan hummed, glancing at her. "Yeah?"

Barbara kept her eyes closed, speaking before she had time to second-guess herself.

"Mhm." She let out a small, breathy laugh. "I've been running around nonstop for weeks—New York, Paris, Milan. And even before that, it was just constant movement. Work. Travel. Shoots."

She hesitated.

Then—

"But when I saw you... everything stopped."

Her voice was quieter now, like she was admitting it to herself as much as to him.

And when she finally opened her eyes, Tristan was still watching her.

Barbara's fingers curled around the coat in her lap.

The air had shifted, and suddenly it felt too quiet.

Too intimate.

Tristan inhaled slowly, his voice gentle.

"You don't have to push yourself so hard, you know."

Barbara swallowed. "I know."

Tristan tilted his head. "Do you?"

Barbara stilled, staring at him.

Tristan's gaze didn't waver.

"Barbara." His voice was steady now. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

And for some reason—

That was what did it.

Not that he had stayed perfectly still for three hours.

Not that he had wordlessly draped her coat over both of them

Not even that she had crossed the ocean just to see him.

It was this.

Because for the first time in weeks, maybe longer—someone was telling her that just being here was enough.

Barbara exhaled softly, lowering her gaze.

Tristan hesitated.

Then—

He reached out.

And touched her.

Not casually. Not playfully.

Gently.

His fingers brushed against her cheek. A simple, careful movement.

And then—

He leaned in.

Pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Barbara's breath caught, and her heart stilled.

It wasn't thoughtless—it meant something more than just a meaningless gesture of affection.

Tristan pulled back ever so slightly, but his fingers remained faintly cupping her cheek.

Barbara's lips parted—no words formed.

Because this wasn't just a kiss.

It wasn't something to joke or laugh about later.

It meant so much more: care. Love. Trust.

It meant he wasn't here to play games.

And neither was she.

Barbara finally let out a slow, unsteady breath.

Tristan's thumb grazed her jaw briefly, before he pulled away completely, leaning back against the bench.

The space between them wasn't much.

But it felt like miles.

"That...probably didn't help, did it?" Tristan asked looking at up, tooking a deep breathe.

Barbara let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. "Not even a little."

Tristan grinned, nudging her knee playfully. "Well, at least now I know you're awake."

Barbara rolled her eyes but made no effort to fight the smile that had crept onto her lips.

They sat there, leaning into each other, enjoying the warmth the other provided.

Then—

Barbara's stomach betrayed her.

Her eyes flew open, horror etched on her face.

Tristan stilled.

Read lat𝙚st chapters at fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓ Only.

Then—

Laughed.

He threw his head back, his mirthful laughter filling the quiet that had enveloped them.

Barbara groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my God."

Tristan leaned his head back against the bench, trying, and failing, to stifle his chuckles. "Well, at least now I know you didn't eat today."

Barbara peeked at him through her fingers, cheeks flushed. "I was busy."

Tristan scoffed. "Busy doesn't mean skipping meals, Barbara."

Barbara let out a dramatic sigh, stretching her arms over her head. "Alright, Dad."

Tristan ignored the jab, pushing himself off the bench, and held his hand out for her to grab. "Come on; we're getting food."

Barbara blinked at him. "Right now?"

"Yes, now." He pulled her up effortlessly. "Before you pass out again."

Barbara narrowed her eyes, her voice teasing. "You act like I'm on the verge of death."

Tristan arched an eyebrow. "You just slept on a park bench for two hours, and your stomach sounds like it's preparing for war. Tell me I'm wrong."

Barbara opened her mouth—

Closed it.

Then let out a resigned sigh.

"Fine. But I'm picking the place."

Tristan played with his keys. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Palvin."

Barbara rolled her eyes, but she was already smiling letting Tristan guide her.

..

Barbara had barely stepped into Tristan's car before he was smiling like an idiot.

She eyed him warily as she buckled her seatbelt. "Why do you look like you're about to say something annoying?"

Tristan hummed, tapping on his phone screen. "Oh, nothing. Just checking something real quick."

Barbara narrowed her eyes. "Tristan."

Without a word, he turned the phone toward her.

And there it was.

Her.

Completely knocked out on his shoulder, mouth slightly open, his arm wrapped around her—plastered all over Twitter.

Barbara's stomach dropped. "Oh my God."

"Guess how many likes this has?" Tristan asked, laughing, barely holding it together.

Barbara snatched the phone from his hands. "Tell me you're lying."

..

@PLUpdates: Tristan Hale refuses to move for three hours while Barbara Palvin sleeps on him. What a man. ❤️🔥 (1.3M likes, 750K retweets)

@mozart111r: Lads, if your girl isn't looking at you like Barbara looks at Tristan when she wakes up, she's not the one. (750K likes, 400K comments)

@ModelUpdates: Barbara Palvin sleeping on Tristan Hale for two hours >>> any couple we've ever seen. (1M likes, 600K shares)

@nanami: This is what true love looks like. Football is nothing compared to this romance.

Barbara let out an actual gasp. "Over a million likes? TRISTAN."

Tristan burst out laughing. "You're famous, Barbara."

"Omg, you should have woke up; how am I going to show my face to the world now?" Barbara shouted, covering her face with her hands.

Tristan smiled at her reaction, waiting for her to get over her embarrassment.

Barbara groaned. "I cannot believe I'm a meme."

Tristan shrugged, amusement still written all over his face. "Hey, you're not just a meme. You're a viral sensation."

Barbara sighed dramatically. "I swear, if anyone I know sends this to me—"

Her phone buzzed at the perfect timing.

..

[ A/N: Pretend, all of the text messages between Anita and Barbara is in Hungarian, I forget to change it. ]

Anita Palvin: OMGGGGGG BARBARA HAHAHAHA YOU'RE ACTUALLY TRENDING—TEXT ME LATER! WE GOTTA TALK!

Barbara threw her phone into her lap. "Great. Just great."

Tristan chuckled, reaching over to tug at the brim of her hat—the one that used to be his. "Could be worse."

Barbara arched a brow. "How?" She was genuinely curious how it could get worse.

Tristan grinned. "You could've drooled on me."

Barbara whipped her head toward him. "I DIDN'T, DID I?!"

Tristan paused for dramatic effect. "No... but you just freaked out, which makes this even funnier."

Barbara shoved his arm. "I take back every nice thing I ever said about you."

Tristan just laughed, shaking his head. "Sure you do."

Barbara crossed her arms, still slightly sulking. "Okay, I'm picking where we eat."

Tristan snorted. "Yeah, that's cute."

"Excuse me?" Barbara asked frowning at that statement.

Tristan gave her a side glance, his expression smug. "Baby, I'm pretty sure this is your first time in Leicester. Let the hometown boy handle this."

Barbara pretended to be offended. "That's NOT true."

Tristan raised an eyebrow.

Barbara opened her mouth—

Then closed it.

Tristan grinned. "Exactly."

Barbara sighed, flopping back against the seat. "Fine. Where are we going, then?"

Tristan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "Somewhere good. Somewhere nice."

Barbara huffed but didn't argue against it.

The moment Tristan pulled out of the parking lot, Barbara reached for the car's Bluetooth system.

Tristan swatted her hand away without looking. "Nope."

"Excuse me?" Barbara said dramatically placing a hand over heart.

Tristan glanced at her, amused. "You heard me. No hijacking my music or car."

Barbara narrowed her eyes, reaching for the screen again. "Tristan, we are not listening to whatever sad British indie-rock nonsense you've been playing all day."

Tristan scoffed. "First of all, it's not sad. Second of all, my music taste is elite."

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay. Let's test that." She jabbed a finger at the screen, connecting her phone before he could stop her.

A second later—

A pop song blasted through the speakers.

Tristan let out a groan. "Oh, come on, Barbara."

Barbara smirked, turning up the volume. "What's wrong? You don't appreciate the classics?"

Tristan shot her a flat look. "This is literally the most overplayed song in existence."

Barbara hummed, clearly unbothered, as she changed the song again.

"Fine, do what you want." Tristan said, sighing as he listened to her playlist.

..

Fifteen minutes later...

Tristan pulled into a quiet street lined with small, family-run restaurants.

Barbara glanced around. "Where are we?"

Tristan parked the car and looked over at her. "Best food in Leicester, nothing fancy. Just really good food. I actually haven't been here for a while since my debut."

She followed his gaze toward a tiny Italian restaurant tucked into the corner, its windows fogged up from the warmth inside.

Barbara smiled, turning back to him. "I trust you with this one."

"You should." Tristan replied back opening the door for her.

..

The moment they sat down, Tristan watched Barbara like a hawk.

Barbara immediately noticed.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked; it's not like she wasn't staring at him either; just a lot more subtle about it.

"Just making sure your eating, you know after all the work and busy month." Tristan replied, tooking a sip of water.

Barbara huffed, drumming her fingers against the table. "You are so dramatic."

Tristan arched a brow. "Oh, I'm dramatic?"

Barbara rolled her eyes. "Yes."

Tristan gestured at her. "Barbara, you literally passed out, in a park."

Barbara groaned. "I was just tired."

"You were starving."

"I was busy."

Tristan laughed at her respond. "Busy people still eat, you know."

Barbara pursed her lips, but before she could argue, the waiter arrived, setting a steaming plate of pasta in front of her.

Tristan barely looked at his own food before nodding toward hers. "Go on, then."

Barbara frowned. "What?"

Tristan leaned his elbows on the table. "Prove it."

Barbara narrowed her eyes. "Prove what?"

Tristan smirked. "That you can actually finish a meal without an excuse."

"You act like my dad, your 19 for god's sake." Barbara said with an incredulous laugh. "You are unbelievable."

Tristan shrugged, taking a sip of water. "It got me here with you so it must be doing something right."

Barbara picked up her fork, holding his stare as she deliberately twirled the pasta around it before taking a slow, exaggerated bite.

Tristan grinned. "Good girl."

Barbara nearly choked. "Tristan."

Tristan bit into a piece of bread, completely unfazed. "What?"

Barbara pointed her fork at him. "You know what."

Tristan just laughed, shaking his head watching her ate in peace with no worries.

Barbara felt it immediately, her fork freezing mid-air. "Okay, what is it?"

Tristan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his lips twitching like he was holding back a joke. "Nothing."

Barbara narrowed her eyes. "No, not nothing. You've been staring at me for a full minute. What?"

Tristan shrugged. "Just wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"If you're gonna admit this is better than whatever overpriced pasta you had in Milan."

Barbara let out an incredulous laugh, shaking her head. "You cannot be serious."

Tristan grabbed his own fork, twirling a bite of spaghetti onto it. "I'm very serious. Leicester's got food, Palvin. And you—" He pointed at her with his fork. "Are a food snob."

Barbara gasped. "I am not a food snob!"

Tristan arched an eyebrow. "You literally turned your nose up at my suggestion before we even got here."

Barbara huffed. "That was before I knew where we were going! I thought you were gonna take me to a pub or something."

Tristan placed a hand over his chest, feigning offense. "Wow. No faith in me at all."

Barbara smirked, stabbing another bite of pasta. "I don't know, Tristan. Milan has a pretty strong track record. Italians invented this food."

Tristan scoffed. "Doesn't mean they own the best version of it." He pointed at her plate. "If this was in Milan, it'd cost triple the price, and you'd get half the portion."

Barbara rolled her eyes but didn't argue. Because... okay, maybe he had a point.

But she wasn't about to admit that.

Instead, she straightened in her chair, chin lifting slightly. "Fine, if you're such a local expert, tell me—what's the real best food in Leicester?"

Tristan didn't even hesitate. "Curry."

Barbara blinked. "Curry?"

"Yep." Tristan took a sip of his drink, looking smug. "Leicester's famous for it. We've got some of the best Indian food in England."

Barbara leaned forward, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "We're eating Italian right now."

Tristan grinned. "You needed a win after passing out on me for three hours. I figured I'd let you start with something familiar. And I didn't know any Hungarian restaurants around here."

Barbara groaned, covering her face. "Can we please stop talking about that?"

"No chance." Tristan rested his elbow on the table, chin propped in his palm. "Do you know how many people saw you drooling on my hoodie?"

Barbara's head snapped up. "I did not—"

Tristan pulled out his phone, unlocking it and scrolling through Twitter. He turned the screen toward her.

@PLUpdates: Tristan Hale, footballer. Barbara Palvin, supermodel. One bench nap that shook the world.

@Mozart111r: Can we talk about how comfortable she looks? Like, full REM cycle. Man's probably built like a pillow.

@ModelUpdates: Forget fashion. This is Barbara's greatest runway performance. She is COMMITTED to that nap.

Barbara groaned dramatically, dropping her head onto the table. "I hate the internet."

Tristan chuckled, flipping his phone back over. "Nah, I love the internet, it's great."

Barbara lifted her head just enough to glare at him. "I like the internet when it's about you. Not when it's about me sleeping in public."

Tristan grinned. "Well, you should get used to it."

Barbara frowned. "What does that mean?"

Tristan leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. "You're part of my world now, Barbara."

She exhaled slowly, then tilted her head. "You're part of mine too, you know."

Tristan's expression shifted slightly, like he hadn't expected her to say that.

But then, he smiled.

"I know."

And just like that, Barbara's nerves settled.

They were still at the table, plates mostly cleared, but neither of them seemed in a rush to leave.

Barbara sat back, sipping the last of her drink, while Tristan lazily twirled his fork between his fingers, watching her with that same amused expression he'd had all night.

"What?" she finally asked, narrowing her eyes.

Tristan smirked. "Nothing."

Barbara scoffed. "You stare a lot for someone who has nothing to say."

Tristan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I'm just observing."

Barbara raised an eyebrow. "Observing what, exactly?"

Tristan shrugged, but there was something smug about it. "That you like it here."

Barbara hesitated for half a second too long. "I—"

Tristan grinned. "See?"

Barbara groaned, rolling her eyes. "I like food, Hale. That doesn't mean I'm suddenly moving to Leicester."

Tristan feigned disappointment. "Damn. And here I was, planning our future."

Barbara let out an exaggerated sigh. "Should've known you'd be a delusional footballer."

Tristan chuckled, crossing his arms. "Let me be delusional than."

Barbara pursed her lips, trying not to smile. She did like it here.

She liked this.

The quiet restaurant, the comfortable banter, the way everything felt so easy with him.

Tristan stretched his legs out under the table, bumping her foot lightly. "So, what's next?"

Barbara frowned. "Next?"

Tristan nodded. "Yeah. You're not jet-lagged enough to pass out again, and I'm not dropping you at the hotel yet."

Barbara arched a brow. "Oh, you're not?"

"Nope." Tristan responded as he stacked the plates.

Barbara studied him for a second, then leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. "Alright, hometown boy. What's your grand plan?"

Then—without answering—he pushed back his chair, standing up. And signaling a waiter.

Barbara blinked. "Wait—where are we going?"

Tristan reached for his jacket, paying for the food.

"C'mon." Tristan called out.

Barbara crossed her arms. "Not until you tell me where."

Tristan sighed dramatically, walking around to her side of the table. He leaned down slightly, voice dropping. "Do you trust me, Palvin?"

Barbara narrowed her eyes. "I like to think so."

Tristan grinned. "Then let's go."

With that, he grabbed her coat, handing it to her before walking toward the exit like he had no doubt she'd follow.

She did follow.

..

Tristan pulled the car onto a quiet street as they were exploring the city and have a good time with the sun coming down.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting warm streaks of amber and violet across the city.

Barbara sat in the passenger seat, knees tucked up, arms wrapped around them, staring absently out the window.

Tristan let out a slow breath, fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. Then, without looking at her—

"Alright." His voice was even, steady, but there was something else underneath it. "Let's talk about it."

Barbara turned toward him, meeting his gaze. "Talk about what?"

Tristan didn't answer right away. He just looked at her—really looked at her, like he was searching for something.

Then—

"Barbara." His tone softened slightly, but the weight of it remained.

Barbara sighed, brushing a hand through her hair before resting her chin on her knee. "Okay. Fine. We'll talk."

Tristan raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Or do I need to wait for you to fall asleep on me again?"

Barbara rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite to it. "Shut up."

Tristan huffed out a quiet chuckle, but it faded quickly. His fingers curled around the steering wheel, knuckles flexing.

"Why are you really here?"

Barbara inhaled slowly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her coat as she chose her words carefully.

"Because I wanted to see you."

Tristan studied her like he was trying to decipher whether she meant it. "That's it?"

Barbara hesitated. "Is that not enough?"

He exhaled through his nose, leaning back against his seat, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you think this is casual?"

The question hit her like a punch to the chest.

She swallowed hard.

There it was.

The thing they had both been avoiding.

Barbara bit her lip, feeling her pulse hammer in her ears. "No."

Tristan nodded slowly. "Neither do I."

Silence settled between them.

Barbara exhaled. "I don't know what we are."

Tristan turned fully toward her now, his elbow resting against the center console. "You don't?"

Barbara met his gaze, her heart pounding against her ribs. "Do you?"

His eyes flickered across her face, studying her, memorizing her.

And then, finally—

"I know I want you to be mine."

Barbara felt her breath catch.

Because holy shit.

He had just said it.

Tristan kept going.

"I don't want this to be some temporary thing. I don't want to just be the guy you talk to between fashion shows." His voice was calm, steady—but there was a quiet intensity there now. "I don't want to be just another name in your life, Barbara."

Barbara's fingers tightened in her lap.

Because damn it—she felt the same way.

But saying it out loud?

That was terrifying.

She had done the casual flings once, and dear god was that hell, looking at you, Justin Bieber

He must have noticed the hesitation in her face because his tone softened.

"But I told you before," he murmured. "I'd give you all the space and time you needed."

Barbara's chest tightened. She knew she was ready. She didn't want to take things slow, she never did. She just had to be brave here enough to admit it.

Slowly, she reached up, adjusting the brim of the blue cap still sitting on her head—his hat. She toyed with the fabric between her fingers before finally whispering—

"I don't want it to be temporary either."

Tristan exhaled sharply, like he had been holding his breath for too long.

Then—before she could overthink it, before she could let fear ruin this—

Barbara lifted her gaze to his, steady and sure.

"So... let's do this."

Tristan blinked, his lips parting slightly. "Do what?"

Barbara's lips curved into a small, knowing smile.

"Us."

And just like that—

That was all he needed to hear.

Tristan's fingers twitched at his side before he finally reached for her.

And Barbara?

Barbara let herself be pulled closer.

His fingers grazed her wrist first, featherlight—like he was still making sure this was real.

Barbara's breath hitched slightly.

His hand slid to her waist, pulling her in, closing the space between them.

Their knees bumped.

And then—

He kissed her, soft and slow.

Barbara melted against him instantly.

Her hands slid up, resting against his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.

Tristan deepened the kiss, just slightly, his fingers tightening against her waist.

He tasted like mint and something else she couldn't name.

Barbara tilted her head, pressing closer, letting herself sink into it.

Tristan pulled back first.

Just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

Their breathing was uneven, the air between them warm.

Barbara's eyes fluttered open slowly, her gaze meeting his.

Tristan held her there, his thumb tracing gently over her cheek, like he was memorizing the way she felt beneath his touch. He exhaled, his voice lower now, almost amused. "You okay?"

Barbara let out a quiet, breathless laugh, shaking her head. "No, you just made my day a hundred times worse."

Tristan's lips twitched, his nose brushing against hers in the softest tease. "Guess I should apologize, then."

Barbara's fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, her breath hitching slightly. "Are you going to?"

Tristan hummed, like he was thinking about it. Then—"Not a chance."

Barbara bit her lip, fighting a smile.

Tristan inhaled deeply, his fingers skimming along her jaw. "You still sure about this?"

Barbara didn't even hesitate.

She nodded

"Yeah."

Tristan smiled. "Good."

And just like that—

Everything changed between them.

..

Neither of them moved for a while. Thank God, Tristan made his tints even darker.

The street outside was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights, the world around them slowing to a hush. But inside Tristan's car, inside this little bubble they had created, things still felt charged.

Barbara was still sitting sideways in the passenger seat, legs curled up, fully facing Tristan. He was leaned back slightly, one arm draped over the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh—but his attention? His attention was all on her.

His eyes traced the delicate lines of her face, the way her hair framed her cheekbones, the way her lips still looked slightly flushed from their kiss.

Tristan glanced at his phone, checking the time. "So... what's the plan? You going back to your hotel?"

Barbara hummed, stretching her legs out slightly. "I think so. Unless you're kicking me out."

Tristan scoffed, shaking his head. "Kicking you out? Barbara, if I had my way, you'd be staying with me."

Barbara smiled, tilting her head. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Tristan tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. "But my parents are home, and I'm not in the mood to deal with my mum's interrogation."

Barbara laughed softly, easily imagining it. "Oh God, she'd ask so many questions. Yeah, I don't wanna met your parents so early.

Tristan sighed dramatically. "You have no idea. She's been waiting for something like this."

Barbara arched an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Oh? So you bring a lot of girls home, then?"

Tristan shot her a flat look. "Don't start."

Barbara grinned, but before she could push it further, Tristan reached out—his fingers brushing against hers before slowly slipping between them, his palm warm against hers.

Barbara stilled for a second, caught off guard by the sudden touch. But then? She relaxed. It felt nice.

Tristan ran his thumb over the back of her hand, watching her carefully. "You sure you'll be okay at the hotel?"

Barbara nodded, but her voice was softer now. "Yeah. It's not like I won't see you tomorrow."

Tristan smiled at that. "Damn right you will."

..

Leicester was quiet at this hour. Most of the city had settled in for the night, but them?

They weren't even close to being tired.

Or at least—Tristan wasn't.

Barbara had spent the last few days flying across the world, barely sleeping, then spent two hours knocked out on his shoulder at the park. But even now, even with exhaustion tugging at her limbs, she still wasn't ready to say goodnight.

Not yet.

Tristan's fingers absentmindedly played with hers, tracing lazy circles over her knuckles, his grip firm but gentle.

Barbara exhaled through her nose, watching his movements before finally meeting his eyes. "You're very touchy."

Tristan grinned, not the least bit apologetic. "I think I've earned it."

Barbara laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, you think?"

Tristan shrugged, still playing with her hand. "I mean, I did let you drool on me for two hours."

Barbara groaned, pulling her other hand free just to cover her face. "We agreed to stop talking about that."

Tristan chuckled, easily prying her hand away so he could see her face again. "Did we, though?"

Barbara huffed. "You are so annoying."

"Oh please, stop saying that." Tristan said back, playing with her hands,

Barbara rolled her eyes but didn't argue.

She glanced out the window, biting her lip. She should go back to the hotel. Should call it a night, get some rest.

But the thought of leaving felt... wrong.

Tristan must have noticed, because he squeezed her hand lightly, voice dipping lower. "What's on your mind?"

Barbara sighed, turning back to him. "I don't know."

Tristan tilted his head slightly, watching her closely. "Do you want me to take you back?"

Barbara hesitated.

Then—

"Not yet."

Tristan's lips twitched, fighting back a knowing smile. "No?"

Barbara shook her head.

Tristan exhaled through his nose, rubbing slow circles into her palm. "Then tell me what you do want."

Barbara studied him.

The way his fingers played with hers like it was second nature. The way his voice had softened, the teasing gone.

The way she knew that whatever she asked for—he would do.

She swallowed, then finally said, "Just... stay here a little longer?"

Tristan didn't even hesitate.

"Yeah, okay."

And so, they stayed.

They just sat there.

For ten whole minutes.

Barbara stared straight ahead, out the windshield, watching the dim glow of the hotel entrance lights reflect against the pavement. But she wasn't really looking at it.

Not when he was sitting right there.

Tristan was the first to break.

He turned toward her, leaning slightly against the driver's seat, his voice quiet. "You really don't want to leave, do you?"

Barbara swallowed, her fingers tightening around her sleeve. "No."

Tristan studied her, gaze flickering down to her lips before meeting her eyes again. "Good."

Barbara barely had time to process it before he was leaning in.

And this time, she didn't hesitate.

She met him halfway.

His lips brushed against hers—soft, careful at first, like he was still making sure this was okay.

But then—

Barbara's hand found his hoodie, fingers curling into the fabric, pulling him closer.

Tristan exhaled sharply, tilting his head, deepening the kiss. His fingers reached up, tracing along the curve of her jaw before slipping into her hair, his touch featherlight but firm.

Barbara melted. Because God, this felt good.

Tristan's thumb brushed against her cheek as he pulled back slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against hers.

Tristan didn't let go of her right away.

Even as Barbara rested her forehead against his, even as their breath mingled in the cool night air, he stayed close—close enough to feel her warmth, close enough that neither of them were really in a rush to pull away.

"So..." Tristan murmured, his thumb brushing absently along her wrist. "Are you actually going inside, or are you gonna stall until I suggest something else?"

Barbara tilted her head, lips curving. "That depends."

Tristan raised an eyebrow, curiosity lighting his eyes as he glanced over at Barbara. "On what?"

Barbara leaned her head lightly against the headrest, considering for a moment. Her eyes sparkled softly, a playful challenge in her gaze. "I don't know... Maybe a club, or something?"

Tristan exhaled softly through his nose, a quiet laugh escaping him. He shook his head gently, eyes lingering warmly on hers. "Really?"

Barbara shrugged, a small, uncertain smile touching her lips. "I mean, we could... unless you've got something else in mind?"

Tristan tapped the steering wheel gently, his gaze drifting forward briefly before returning thoughtfully to her face. "I don't like clubs, plus I'm pretty sure both of us would prefer not being on that The Sun tomorrow."

And with that, he put the car into drive, the hum of the engine filling the quiet night.

The streets of Leicester blurred past, city lights flickering across the dashboard. Barbara sat with her knee pulled up, watching him as he drove, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other resting lazily against the gear shift.

She tilted her head. "So, you really don't like clubs?"

Tristan didn't even hesitate. "Nope."

Barbara frowned slightly. "Like, at all?"

"Not my thing."

Barbara studied him quietly for a long moment, taking in his profile. It wasn't exactly shocking—not really. She'd scrolled through countless photos of Tristan online before, skimming through press coverage, fan blogs, Instagram tags. Now that she thought about it, there really weren't any pictures of him drinking. No shots of him stumbling out of clubs, no tabloid stories about late-night escapades with teammates.

For someone as famous as he was, it was incredibly rare.

She tapped her fingers gently against her knee, curiosity tugging at her.

"So... no drinking either?" Barbara finally asked, voice gentle, a bit uncertain.

Tristan shook his head casually, eyes fixed calmly on the road ahead. "Nope."

Barbara blinked softly, surprised. "Like... ever?"

He glanced at her briefly, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. "Why? Is that a dealbreaker?"

She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "No, it's just... unexpected."

Tristan's expression softened slightly, shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug. "I grew up watching people get carried away with that stuff. Friends, teammates, even strangers. I just never really saw the appeal."

Plus he was dealing with his own demons in his first life, he was good.

Barbara nodded thoughtfully, biting her lip gently as she processed that. It made sense, actually—and she admired him for it.

Tristan stole another brief glance at her, noticing her thoughtful expression. "You enjoy it, though."

Barbara raised a curious eyebrow. "Enjoy what?"

"Parties. Clubbing," he clarified, voice gentle, non-judgmental. "All that stuff."

She tilted her head slightly, considering his words carefully before nodding softly. "Yeah... I do. Sometimes."

Tristan nodded once, calmly, as if he'd expected that answer. "That's fine."

Barbara narrowed her eyes slightly, curiosity piqued. "You say it like you expected me to apologize for it."

A small smile touched Tristan's lips, eyes still fixed comfortably ahead. "People are different. You like it, I don't. That's all there is to it."

Barbara paused, gently shifting in her seat, uncertainty evident on her face. She finally spoke, voice softer now, careful. "It doesn't bother you?"

Tristan glanced sideways at her, brow furrowing slightly. "Why would it?"

Barbara hesitated again, fingertips nervously brushing against her knee. "I don't know. I guess it's just... unusual. I'm used to guys getting possessive about stuff like that."

Tristan let out a soft breath, shaking his head gently, a slight edge of humor touching his voice. "I'm not those guys."

Barbara laughed quietly, warmly. "No," she said softly. "You're really not."

He tapped his fingers gently against the steering wheel, eyes thoughtful. "Barbara, you know you can have fun without me, right?"

She studied him curiously, tilting her head slightly. "Yeah?"

Tristan nodded softly, sincerely. "Yeah."

Barbara exhaled quietly, her fingers tapping lightly on her thigh again. "Maybe," she murmured, hesitating. "But wouldn't that be a little unfair?"

Tristan glanced over briefly, confusion clear on his face. "Unfair?"

Barbara bit the inside of her cheek before facing him fully, resting her elbow against the center console. "You don't drink. You don't party. I'd feel guilty going out without you."

He frowned slightly, puzzled. "Why?"

She paused, searching for the right words. "Because I'd be doing something you wouldn't."

A quiet laugh escaped Tristan, soft and gentle. He shook his head slowly, eyes warm as they met hers. "Barbara, I don't drink because I don't want to. Not because I expect you to do the same."

Barbara opened her mouth slightly, beginning to protest. "Yeah, but—"

He gently interrupted, voice calm yet firm. "Do you really think I'd ever try to control what you do?"

Barbara fell quiet, lips parted softly as she studied his sincere expression.

Tristan glanced at her once more, his voice steady and genuine. "You're your own person. I'm not here to change you."

Barbara exhaled softly, her chest felt, she could feel her face heating up. A quiet smile touched her lips, and she turned slowly back toward the window, absorbing his words.

After a moment, Tristan spoke again, his tone playful, eyes glancing at her from the corner. "But, you know..."

Barbara lifted an eyebrow slightly, a teasing suspicion entering her voice. "Here we go."

He continued smoothly, ignoring her sarcasm completely. "If you do end up going out, I'll be expecting a FaceTime call at some point."

Barbara laughed quietly, glancing back at him with amused disbelief. "Oh?"

Tristan nodded calmly, eyes back on the road, voice gently teasing. "Just to make sure you haven't wandered off."

Barbara shook her head softly, a tender amusement lighting her eyes. "See, you are a little possessive."

He glanced at her briefly, his expression quietly sincere. "Nah."

Barbara's brows rose in playful skepticism. "No?"

Tristan's lips curled slightly, voice softening as he replied quietly, earnestly. "I just like knowing you're safe."

Barbara pressed her lips together gently, warmth blossoming in her chest. Because, damn it, he knew exactly how to make her heart skip.

She watched him for a moment longer before finally turning back toward the window, smiling to herself.

Yeah. She wasn't going to regret this.

..

Barbara wasn't expecting an arcade when Tristan pulled up and parked the car.

Bright neon lights flickered across the dark pavement, bathing the small crowd gathered outside in shades of blue, pink, and purple. Barbara glanced out the window, eyebrows rising slowly in mild surprise, before turning toward Tristan with a questioning look.

"An arcade?" she asked, curiosity clear in her voice.

Tristan shoved his hands casually into his pockets, a quiet amusement playing in his eyes as he glanced at her. "What? Did you think I'd take you on some romantic riverboat cruise?"

Barbara let out a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly. "Honestly, I was expecting something a bit cooler."

He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, feigning deep offense as he looked at her. "Excuse me—this place is a Leicester classic. Show some respect."

Barbara rolled her eyes fondly, fighting back a smile as she reached for the door handle. "Alright, alright. Let's see what you've got."

Tristan slipped a handful of arcade tokens out of his hoodie pocket, jangling them playfully in his hand as he held the arcade door open for her.

"I hope you're ready to lose," he said, a teasing confidence warming his voice.

Barbara scoffed lightly, tilting her chin up with mock defiance. "Oh, you're so going down."

That was how it started.

Moments later, Tristan slid comfortably into the seat of a brightly lit arcade racing game, instantly choosing a blue sports car on the selection screen—of course.

Barbara settled into the seat next to him, taking her time as her gaze deliberately drifted across the available vehicles. Her lips curved into a playful smile as she selected the most ridiculous-looking car available: a bright pink convertible covered in flame decals, complete with heart-shaped rims.

Tristan glanced sideways at her choice, eyebrow raised skeptically. "Seriously?"

Barbara leaned forward slightly, clearly enjoying his mild irritation. "Aw, scared?"

He huffed quietly, amusement breaking through his faux irritation. "Of you? Never."

The countdown flashed brightly across the screen.

3... 2... 1... GO!

Barbara was decent—but Tristan's athlete's reflexes showed instantly. He maneuvered through tight turns and pulled off smooth drifts like he'd spent hours practicing this exact moment.

Barbara's jaw tightened slightly, determination shining in her eyes as she gripped the wheel firmly, trying her hardest to close the gap.

"You definitely practice this in your free time," she muttered, eyes glued to her screen.

Tristan laughed, shaking his head slightly. "Babe, I actually have a life."

She groaned lightly as Tristan edged ahead just before the finish line, his victory flashing dramatically across both their screens. He leaned back triumphantly, arms raised above his head as if he'd just scored a winning goal in front of thousands.

"Too easy," he declared, a playful arrogance dancing in his eyes.

Barbara scowled softly, sinking deeper into her seat. "I hope you crash in real life."

Tristan let out a loud laugh, surprised by her sudden aggression. "Jesus, that's harsh."

She muttered quietly under her breath, pretending to glare at him. "Should've sideswiped you when I had the chance."

A few minutes later, Tristan rolled up his sleeves, calmly flexing his arms as he stepped toward the basketball game.

Barbara folded her arms across her chest, shaking her head with affectionate disbelief. "Oh my God. You're so dramatic."

He glanced over his shoulder, turning the basketball slowly in his hands as if savoring the moment. "I'm just appreciating this."

She watched silently as Tristan lined up his shot and sent the ball sailing smoothly through the net.

Perfect swish.

Barbara exhaled softly, shaking her head again. "Show-off."

He tilted his head toward her slightly, curiosity sparking his eyes. "Jealous?"

Without responding, Barbara stepped forward and confidently took a ball. She lined up her shot calmly, perfectly mirroring his previous one.

Tristan's brows rose slightly in mild surprise. "Alright, you might actually be decent."

Barbara glanced sideways, eyes brightening with quiet pride. "Might?"

The competition quickly heated up. Gentle nudges, teasing comments whispered right as the other prepared to shoot—each distraction carefully timed. Tristan leaned a bit too close, subtly throwing her rhythm off.

Barbara, refusing to back down, stepped close, whispering just loud enough for him to hear, "Hope you miss."

Tristan's shot bounced off the rim.

Barbara's laughter echoed brightly as she stepped away, triumphant.

He turned toward her, pointing accusingly. "That was evil."

Barbara shrugged lightly, smiling with quiet satisfaction. "All's fair in love and basketball."

Ultimately, Tristan managed to finish one point ahead. Barbara groaned in exaggerated annoyance, eyes narrowing playfully. "Ugh, rematch."

Instead, Tristan stepped closer, gently slipping an arm around her waist, pulling her against him comfortably. "Nah, I like this victory too much."

She rolled her eyes gently, a reluctant smile spreading as she leaned into his warmth, accepting defeat graciously—for now.

When they stepped back outside, the cool night air met them softly, the arcade's energetic buzz still lingering warmly between them.

Barbara tilted her head back, breathing deeply. A quiet smile softened her face. "Okay, fine... I'll admit it. That was fun."

He looked over at her warmly, satisfaction shining clearly in his eyes. "Told you."

She glanced at him quietly for a moment, warmth evident in her expression. "You know, I don't think I've ever had a date quite like this."

His expression gentled, curiosity mixed with uncertainty as he watched her carefully. "Good different, or bad different?"

Barbara playfully bumped her shoulder against his, eyes sparkling as she answered softly, warmly sincere, "Good different."

Tristan exhaled, watching her for a long moment before reaching for her hand. His fingers slid between hers.

Barbara's breath hitched slightly.

Tristan leaned in, his voice lower now. "So... since I won, do I get a prize?"

Barbara arched a brow. "A prize?"

Tristan nodded, shifting closer. "Yeah. Something small. Nothing crazy."

Barbara smirked, tilting her chin up. "Like what?"

Tristan lifted a hand, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, his fingers trailing lightly down her cheek.

"A kiss would be nice."

She could play this cool. She could tease him. She could make him wait.

But—

She didn't want to.

Instead, she reached up, tugging lightly at the front of his hoodie, pulling him in.

Their lips met, slow and unhurried.

Tristan kissed her like he had been dying to, like he had been waiting for this moment all night.

And Barbara?

Barbara kissed him right back.

..

The streets of Leicester were quiet, the gentle flow of the River Soar reflecting the dim, golden glow of the streetlights as Tristan and Barbara walked slowly side by side. The lively energy from the arcade had faded into something calmer now—just the soft hush of their footsteps and the cool, peaceful night around them.

Barbara hugged her arms gently around herself, glancing upward at the sky before letting out a quiet breath.

"Okay," she admitted softly, a gentle warmth in her voice. "I'll admit it... that was fun."

Tristan glanced sideways at her, a quiet satisfaction brightening his expression as he tucked his hands casually into his hoodie pockets. "Told you."

They walked on in easy silence for a few moments, neither of them eager for the night to end just yet.

Eventually, they stopped near a small bridge overlooking the quiet water. Tristan hesitated only briefly before gently reaching out, drawing Barbara closer without a second thought.

Barbara didn't hesitate either. She moved into his embrace easily, her arms sliding around his waist as she rested her face softly against his chest. She breathed him in slowly, deeply. He felt warm and familiar—safe.

Tristan exhaled quietly, pressing his lips softly against the top of her head, lingering there.

"I don't want this to be temporary," he murmured gently, voice just loud enough for her to hear.

Barbara's fingers curled softly into the fabric of his hoodie, holding on just a bit tighter.

"It's not," she whispered, voice steady and quietly sure.

Tristan gently pulled back just enough to see her clearly, his hands sliding slowly up to rest warmly on her shoulders. He studied her carefully, his gaze tender but serious—like he was memorizing every detail of her expression, making sure she truly meant it.

Then, slowly, he leaned forward again.

His lips brushed softly against her forehead, the kiss lingering just long enough to send a gentle warmth spreading through her chest. Barbara closed her eyes briefly, savoring the quiet sincerity of the moment.

When she opened her eyes again, Tristan was still watching her intently, eyes gentle but questioning.

Barbara laughed softly, shaking her head with affectionate disbelief. "So... are you always this smooth?"

Tristan's lips curved into a quiet, genuine smile. "Only for you."

Barbara exhaled a quiet laugh, eyes sparkling as she looked away, cheeks slightly warm. "You're honestly too much sometimes, you know."

He tilted his head slightly, amusement clear in his voice. "I know."

Barbara sighed dramatically, leaning comfortably into his side again. "Yeah, yeah."

They lingered there for a little while longer, wrapped up in the quiet intimacy of the moment, until eventually they found their way back to the car.

By the time Tristan pulled into The Gresham Aparthotel, the streets were nearly empty, quiet, the occasional passing car a distant hum. Neither of them moved to leave the car just yet.

Barbara stretched out her legs slowly, tipping her head back gently against the seat, eyes softening thoughtfully as she stared at the ceiling. "I don't want to go inside yet."

Tristan tapped his fingers lightly against the steering wheel, voice gentle as he replied simply, "So don't."

Barbara let out a soft laugh, turning her head toward him slightly, meeting his gaze in the quiet darkness of the car. "I can't just sit in your car all night."

Tristan looked at her for a long moment, his voice quieter, softer now—almost like a whisper. "You could."

Barbara swallowed softly, her pulse quickening slightly at the way his eyes held hers. She bit gently at her bottom lip, quickly forcing away thoughts she wasn't quite ready to entertain yet.

..

Tristan followed Barbara quietly into the hotel, her suitcase hanging casually from one hand as they moved toward her room.

Barbara swiped the key card, the electronic lock clicking softly before she pushed the door open. She paused in the doorway, turning back to face him, gently leaning her shoulder against the frame. Her eyes were soft, playful yet slightly unsure.

"So," she murmured quietly, her voice gently teasing, "is this where we say goodnight?"

Tristan stepped closer slowly, his eyes warm yet quietly intense as he rested his arm lightly above her head against the doorframe.

"That depends," he said softly, voice dropping to something lower, quieter.

Barbara lifted an eyebrow slightly, curious but already knowing the answer. "On?"

Tristan leaned in slightly, just enough for their faces to be mere inches apart, his voice almost a whisper. "On whether you're actually gonna let me leave."

Barbara's gaze flicked up to meet his, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she tilted her chin upward gently, her fingers finding their way into the front pocket of his hoodie. She tugged lightly, invitingly.

And Tristan—without hesitation—leaned in fully, closing the remaining distance to kiss her softly, gently, unhurriedly.

Barbara instantly melted into him, her hands sliding up to curl softly into the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. The kiss gradually deepened, growing warmer, their bodies pressed comfortably against each other. Tristan's fingers gently grazed her lower back, steadying her there as they lingered in the moment.

When they finally broke apart, Barbara exhaled softly, slightly breathless, eyes meeting his in a quiet, hopeful question. "You sure you don't want to stay?"

Tristan laughed softly under his breath, gently brushing his thumb across her jawline, eyes sincere and gentle. "I want to. But if I do, I'm probably not leaving."

Barbara bit her lower lip gently, heart fluttering quickly in her chest. She exhaled slowly, fingertips nervously playing with the hem of his hoodie. "Fine," she whispered softly, smiling gently. "You win."

Tristan let out a quiet laugh, stepping back slightly, eyes brightening playfully. "Shocking."

Barbara rolled her eyes softly but still reached for his hand once more, giving it a gentle, lingering squeeze.

Then—

Before Tristan could even turn away—

Barbara suddenly grabbed the hem of his hoodie and tugged it quickly over his head.

Tristan blinked rapidly in surprise, laughing softly in disbelief. "Wait—"

Barbara quickly slipped it over her own head, pulling it down until it hung loosely around her slender frame, sleeves partially covering her hands. She looked up at him innocently, eyes bright and playful. "Mine now."

Tristan stared at her for a beat, shaking his head slowly, amusement clear in his expression. "You can't be serious."

Barbara lifted the collar of the hoodie toward her face, inhaling dramatically but softly, eyes sparkling warmly. "Mm. Smells like you."

Tristan exhaled sharply, running a hand slowly through his hair, unable to hold back his smile. "You know, you're awful."

Barbara smiled sweetly, stepping slowly back into the hotel room, watching him from beneath her eyelashes. "Whatever you say, babe."

He laughed quietly, shaking his head with affection as he took a slow step back, holding her gaze for another heartbeat longer. "Yeah, yeah."

Finally, Tristan turned toward the elevator, moving down the hall slowly.

Barbara lingered by the doorframe, leaning comfortably against it, his hoodie fitting her as if it had always been hers.

As he reached the elevator, she shouted just loud enough softly into the quiet hallway, just loud enough for him to hear:

"Goodnight, Tristan."

Tristan paused, "Goodnight, Barbara." Tristan shouted back before entering the elevator.

At this single moment, they each knew—without a doubt—they had fallen for each other.

..

8309 word count, not counting this end section.

Also let me know if you guys would be interested in a discord serve, that Patreon members are so I would like to hear your guys thoughts as well.

Peace