God Of football-Chapter 1001 - 18[2]

The last wisp of the car that had just moved out of the house settled outside in the compound, and for a moment, Izan just stood there in the kitchen, listening to it.

Then he reached for his phone on the counter.

The screen lit up with a cascade of notifications he hadn’t bothered checking earlier, but before he could open anything, something nudged against his shin, and the nudging turned into a series of scratches.

He looked down and saw Miko was sitting beside his leg, pawing at him gently, careful enough that her claws didn’t catch his skin.

Izan raised a brow, wondering what could be the reason before settling on one a moment later.

"They should’ve fed you before they left," he said, smiling a little as Miko barked once, softly.

He bent down and slipped his arms under her, lifting her up in one smooth motion.

Even though she wasn’t particularly heavy, he let out a dramatic huff as he stood up straight, and that caused Miko to bark again, louder this time, like she had taken offence.

"Alright, alright," Izan laughed. "Sorry."

He carried her across the living room and into one of the smaller side rooms just off it.

Technically, it was meant to be where Miko stayed.

Her bed was there, along with a few toys scattered across the rug, but she had long since decided the rest of the house was far more interesting.

Izan picked up one of the plush toys and tossed it lightly onto the floor.

"Stay there a second."

Miko looked at the toy, then at him, then trotted after him anyway.

He shook his head, amused, as he moved through the hallway and into the pantry and cold storage room beside the kitchen.

The air there was cooler, with the shelves neatly lined with everything the house ever needed.

He grabbed the bag of dog food and came back out into the kitchen, particularly the corner where Miko’s bowl sat exactly where it always did.

He poured some food in without looking too closely at first, but then his eyes narrowed.

The bowl looked... scrappy.

Like it had already been cleaned up recently and by something sloppy, like a tongue.

Izan crouched slightly and turned his head toward Miko.

"What’s this?" he asked as if he could get a reply from the dog.

And to no one’s surprise, he did.

Well Kinda.

Miko padded forward, leaned down, and licked the inside of the bowl with exaggerated enthusiasm, making sure it was the cleanest it could get, all while Izan stared at her before he laughed under his breath and shook his head.

"You’re clever. Have some for your effort."

He poured a small portion of food in anyway.

"No more," he added firmly, pointing at the bowl after that.

"You’re going to have to run it off if you get too fat."

Miko wagged her tail, entirely unconcerned and with that sorted, Izan finally wandered back into the living room and dropped onto the couch.

Now he opened his phone properly.

The notifications exploded across the screen.

Mentions and Tags.

Messages.

DMs.

Instagram.

Twitter.

Everywhere.

Hundreds of birthday wishes had already stacked up overnight, and with all the time in the world, he scrolled slowly, taking them in one by one.

Henry from Saint Laurent had posted a sleek black-and-white photo of himself together with Izan and a caption wishing him a brilliant year ahead.

Lamine Yamal had sent a message with three fire emojis and a laughing face, while Pedri had written something simple and heartfelt.

One message that felt out of place was Jude Bellingham trolling him as he had sent a voice note that started with, "You’re getting old," before dissolving into laughter.

The brands followed too.

Adidas, Koenigsegg, Nikon, Seiko; a few to name.

Each one with polished posts celebrating him turning eighteen.

Further down, Arsenal’s official pages had posted their own tribute—photos from matches, training sessions, celebrations, each one accompanied by captions thanking him for what he had already given the club.

Izan leaned back into the couch, smiling quietly.

Then he noticed another message, this time from Arteta.

He opened it, and the only message that had come through had a picture attached to it.

In the image, Saka stood beside a cooler of balloons filled with water or some sort of liquid in the dressing room, holding a roll of tape and a marker, mid-scheming expression frozen on his face.

The caption beneath it read:

"This is why I let you take the day off."

Izan laughed, and the next message was from Saka himself.

Saka: Where are you?

You’re late.

Izan shook his head and typed back.

Find somewhere else for your pranks.

The conversation alone was enough to make him laugh again.

From the floor beside him, Miko lifted her head, ears twitching at the sound and hours later, the house filled up again as the women returned from their day’s endeavours.

Dinner had been Izan’s suggestion.

Nothing extravagant; just somewhere warm where the five of them could sit, talk, and enjoy each other’s company.

And they did. They weren’t going to get to do it all too much, and so they took advantage of the break and the moment, talking and reminiscing about their lives.

And now the evening had come and gone.

The car rolled through the gates of the Hampstead property, gravel crunching softly beneath the tyres as Izan pulled into the driveway.

He switched off the engine.

Inside the car, Komi leaned forward from the back seat.

"I think I’m a little tipsy," she admitted with surprising seriousness.

Izan smirked a bit, remembering his warning about her drinking too much at the establishment earlier.

She opened the door before anyone could respond and walked toward the house with determined dignity.

Miranda stepped out next, but before following, she reached into the back seat and handed Izan a small, elegant box.

"Happy birthday," she muttered casually.

Then she turned and headed inside as well.

Hori was already halfway up the steps when she glanced at the box in Izan’s hands.

"Oh, it’s that time," she said before disappearing through the door.

That left Izan and Olivia alone in the cool night air.

They didn’t rush inside.

Instead, they walked over to the wooden bench that had been installed on the lawn weeks earlier.

"So," she said after a moment they had sat down, "you’re finally an adult."

That made Izan look at her a bit suspiciously, though in a joking manner.

"You’re saying that like you’re planning something bad."

Olivia burst out laughing, and while she laughed, Izan opened the box Miranda had given him.

Inside, a sleek black case rested neatly against velvet lining.

The name embossed across it read:

Gold & Wood.

He opened it, and the first thing inside was a small card with just a number written in elegant italics.

119

Peaking his curiosity, Izan slowly took the second lid off to reveal some glasses.

Izan lifted the glasses out carefully, and beautiful was the term he could give them.

They were minimalist, almost understated at first glance, but the nose bridge shimmered with tiny diamonds set into the frame.

It looked and was luxurious to say the least.

While inspecting it, he let out a slow breath through pursed lips.

"Miranda went all out."

He pulled out his phone again and snapped a picture.

"What are you doing?" Olivia asked.

"Curious."

He ran the image through a quick search.

The result popped up almost immediately.

Gold & Wood 119 Diamond Glasses — $30,000

Olivia raised one eyebrow at that before laughing at Izan’s shocked expression while he shook his head, smiling.

"She didn’t have to."

Still, he slipped them on and turned toward Olivia.

"Well?"

She rolled her eyes, knowing he was fishing for compliments, and she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

"You’d look good in a sack."

He laughed, but while he did so, Olivia also reached into her bag and pulled out a smaller box.

Not wanting to look into his sea of eyes, she felt his arm and then handed it to him gently.

"Happy birthday, mi amor."

Izan glanced at her with a smile, but Olivia refused to look back at him.

Finally giving up, Izan opened the box and inside was a thin, rounded metal piece designed to clip into hair.

"Palladium," she muttered when she saw Izan turning it over in his hands.

"For your hair," she added as he turned it over one last time and saw his initials were engraved into the metal and beside them, two small words.

To Greatness.

Olivia shifted slightly, suddenly looking nervous.

"I always..." she began quietly, beginning to make an excuse.

"Whenever I see your hair loose, it does something to my chest. Like it scratches in a good way."

She laughed awkwardly.

"So I had that made. You can use it instead of the rubber bands."

She hesitated.

"It’s... good for you. And for my heart."

Izan didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek before breaking into a short fit of laughter and then looking back at Olivia.

"Thanks, love."

He pulled the band from his hair and let the dark strands fall freely for a moment before sliding the palladium clip into place.

Even in the thickness of his hair, the metal caught the faint glow of the garden lights, and Olivia stared at him like a deer caught in headlights.

She couldn’t help it.

He looked ridiculous in those diamond glasses that really accentuated his clear blue eyes, and with the new hair clip, he somehow still looked more like something of a comic or a novel.

....

[MidA/N: I don’t know about that（⊙ｏ⊙）]

....

She scooted closer and rested her head against his shoulder.

"I love you," she said softly while Izan wrapped his hands around her bare shoulders.

"I’d do you," he muttered, suddenly breaking the intimate moment and causing Olivia to snap her head at him.

"What?" she asked, shockingly, while Izan rose to his feet with a chuckle before bolting into the house, only for Olivia, in her heels, to chase after him expertly a moment later.