Chapter Text
The sound of cleats against the synthetic grass mixed with heavy breathing and the short commands of the French coach.
“One more lap, I want your maximum speed this time.” He demanded.
A few groans came from some members of the French national team.
“Tch! What for!? You already know Loki is the fastest!” The other players laughed at Gabin’s response.
“Yeah yeah, shut up already, Gabin.” The coach said with a small laugh before blowing the whistle.
And Julian shot forward like always.
His body reacted before any thought could; long legs cutting across the field with that absurd acceleration that made everyone else look slow.
The wind hit his face as he passed player after player, barely hearing the footsteps behind him.
Hugo watched from slightly farther back and noticed that Loki was pushing his speed too hard again.
It wasn’t unusual, of course not. Loki always pushed his speed to the limit as if standing still were a physical humiliation.
Just as the dark-skinned man was about to reach the end of the stadium track, an awkward movement happened.
His right foot landed strangely against the ground and, with the next push forward, something seemed to pull violently behind his ankle.
Julian stumbled and dropped to his knees against the tartan pavement, letting out a dry sound through clenched teeth, a muffled mix between cut-off breathing and restrained pain.
Hugo stopped abruptly when he saw him fall, the rest of the team following behind.
“Julian.” He whispered to himself, quickly moving toward him.
Loki kept one hand tightly pressed against the lower part of his right leg, just behind his ankle.
His breathing sounded stranger than usual.
He inhaled and exhaled desperately, but calmed down slightly when he saw the redhead stop in front of him.
“It was just a strain.” Loki said quickly, as if he needed to convince Hugo before convincing himself.
Vivian barely frowned, concerned.
“You stopped too suddenly.”
“I’m fine.” What a fucking shitty lie.
It was obvious even in the way Julian tried to stand back up.
His right leg trembled the moment he put weight on it. The calf muscle contracted harshly, involuntarily, and for a second his expression twisted into the slightest grimace before hiding it again.
Hugo extended a hand, but the other Frenchman ignored it.
“Don’t exaggerate.” He muttered, awkwardly regaining his balance. “It was just a bad step.”
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and started running again.
𝘖𝘳 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥, Vivian thought.
Because even though Julian kept his previous pace, Hugo could clearly see the slight imbalance in his right step.
His movements were no longer clean; there was a strange stiffness every time his heel hit the ground. As if Julian’s body was beginning to distrust itself.
The training continued for a few more minutes until the coach finally gave them a short break.
The players scattered across the field between water bottles and exhausted breaths.
Julian dropped onto the artificial grass with a heavy sigh, the midfielder sitting down beside him.
“Stretch your right ankle.”
“You’re persistent..” He replied with a small laugh.
“Your tendon is tense.” That observation made Julian look away for just a second.
With a resigned silence, Loki stretched his right leg out toward him.
The redhead carefully held his ankle and slowly started moving his foot upward.
The striker inhaled sharply, his chest rising immediately. The pain shot through the back of his leg like a hot current, far too tight.
It wasn’t normal muscle pain. It felt deeper than usual.
As if something inside the tendon was being stretched beyond what it should.
“This isn’t just a simple strain judging by your reaction.” Hugo said calmly.
“Vivian, don’t start.” He replied, slightly more irritated.
But the redhead kept watching the involuntary tension in Julian’s leg. Every time he flexed his foot, the muscle reacted far too stiffly.
But before he could insist any further, the whistle sounded again.
“Your five minutes are over, back to your positions.” Their coach spoke up once more.
Julian let out air through his nose at the sound.
“See? I’m still alive.” He said in an arrogant tone.
Loki stood up quickly, probably too quickly.
The sudden shift in pressure sent a whip-like pain from his ankle halfway up his calf.
He clenched his teeth hard in response to the sensation, but said nothing.
He returned to the starting line beside the rest of the team.
He took a deep breath and slightly bent his legs.
And without hesitation, he ran again.
Or tried to.
Because at the exact moment he pushed his right foot forward,
something snapped.
There was no warning this time, not like before. Not like the small pull in his tendon.
The pain exploded behind his ankle as if someone had buried a burning knife directly into the tendon and then violently ripped it apart.
There was an internal snap.
Disgustingly real.
Loki literally felt something give way inside his leg, his foot instantly losing strength.
The sensation was monstrous; as if the connection between his calf and the ground had suddenly disappeared.
He immediately collapsed onto the ground.
And his scream came out torn apart.
It didn’t even sound fully human.
His body slammed against the pavement while both hands desperately grabbed the lower part of his leg.
The pain was constant, his ankle throbbing like a heart full of blood, burning like hot oil.
Every tiny movement sent violent stabs through the entire back of his leg.
He couldn’t put weight on his foot, nor could he move it properly.
“JULIAN!” One of his teammates shouted.
The footsteps around them became louder, along with the voices.
But Julian could barely hear anything, the pain was far louder than any megaphone.
His vision began shaking violently, his breathing turning erratic.
And the pain—
God.
It felt like the tendon was still tearing inside him every time he tried to tense his leg.
Hugo appeared beside him immediately, grabbing his shoulders while Julian uselessly tried to sit up.
“Don’t move.” He murmured, trying to carefully lay Loki onto his back.
“MY LEG— AH— FUCK—” He screamed again, gripping his ankle with both hands, with sickening force. “FUCK, FUCK.” His back curled forward, all his strength going into the hands crushing around his ankle.
And then, only a few seconds later, his body stopped resisting.
His eyes lost focus and the tension suddenly disappeared.
And Loki collapsed unconscious into Hugo’s arms.
The first sound Julian recognized was the constant beeping beside him, then came the antiseptic smell.
He immediately knew where he was.
A hospital.
His body reacted before his mind did; a small involuntary movement of his right leg tore such an intense stab of pain through him that the air instantly got stuck in his throat.
“Ah..” His voice came out broken. He slowly opened his eyes, still dizzy.
The white ceiling lights forced him to shut them again for a second before trying to focus once more.
He was lying on a hospital bed, the monitor beside him continuing its insistent beeping, the large windows surrounded by pale curtains.
And Hugo was sitting beside him, next to the bed.
He was still wearing the French training clothes, though the shirt was damp with sweat and dry grass. His expression remained as calm as ever, but his eyes were far too focused on him.
Julian swallowed when he saw him, keeping his eyes half-lidded as he still processed everything he was seeing. What happened to him?
He lowered his gaze toward his legs and realized he was barefoot, his right foot slightly elevated on a small pillow, completely exposed.
And even without moving any part of his body, he could still feel the pain throbbing behind his ankle.
The pain was hellish, his tendon feverish, as if something had been ripped out from the inside.
“You passed out.” Vivian finally spoke. Loki let out a weak breath through his nose.
“Yeah, I noticed..” He dragged one hand across his forehead before pressing his fingertips against his eyelids irritably.
He tried to sit up, barely lifting his back, and that movement pulled harshly on his calf tendon, a violent current shooting through the back of his leg.
The striker let out a muffled sound and immediately fell back against the hospital bed again, his back hitting it hard.
Fuck.
It hurt too much.
This wasn’t «athlete» pain.
This felt wrong.
Dangerously wrong.
Vivian leaned slightly toward him, worried.
“Don’t move so much.”
“I’m not disabled, Hugo.” He replied harshly.
The moment he finished speaking, his fingers unconsciously tightened around the bedsheet.
The pain kept throbbing behind his ankle, unbearable.
It felt like needles were stabbing every muscle, every vein, every bone in the lower part of his leg.
Suddenly, the room’s door opened.
A doctor walked in while checking some papers.
“Good, you’re awake.” He said, barely looking away from the documents.
The dark-skinned man only turned his head slightly toward him.
“What happened to me?” The doctor set the papers aside.
“That’s what we’re still examining, but based on how the accident was described and the location of the pain.. we suspect a significant Achilles tendon injury.”
Loki’s stomach dropped.
An Achilles tendon injury? No, it couldn’t be that area. That was impossible.
What if his tendon had finally snapped after all the speed Loki forced onto it?
Did that happen? Did his tendon tear? Would he never be able to move his right leg again?
Loki clenched his teeth, his gaze seriously tense.
The doctor continued approaching the bed.
“I need to examine you first. Can you lie on your stomach?”
Julian tried moving his leg, but the simple act of turning his hip made the pain flare violently again.
He could literally feel the lower part of his calf tightening unnaturally.
As if something was loose where it shouldn’t be.
He clenched his teeth harder, Hugo immediately stood up to help him turn more carefully.
“Let me help you.” Even so, the moment his right leg settled onto the bed, Julian let out a broken breath.
It hurt too much, what the fuck was this? What the fuck happened to him during that training?
The doctor sat down on a small chair beside the hospital bed.
“Relax your leg.”
“It is relaxed already.” Loki replied. But he had been tense even before the first touch.
And the moment the doctor’s fingers gently pressed the area behind his ankle—
the pain exploded.
“AH— FUCK!” His back arched immediately.
The sensation was grotesque.
The tendon felt swollen, sensitive, almost electric. Every bit of pressure sent burning stabs halfway up his calf.
Julian desperately grabbed onto the hospital bed with one hand, breathing erratically.
“I’m sorry, I need to properly examine the area.” The doctor said.
Hugo watched Loki with a tense expression, keeping his fists clenched over his own thighs, not knowing what to do or what to say.
For the first time, he felt like he had no logical plan or statistic that could help him in this situation.
The doctor pressed again, this time slowly moving upward along the tendon.
And it was worse.
Because now the pain wasn’t only sharp; it felt deeply broken. As if the tissue inside his leg had separated.
Every touch caused involuntary spasms through his calf.
“Mghm..” His voice cracked completely this time, his eyes beginning to burn.
How humiliating.
He hated this.
He hated lying there while someone touched his leg and he reacted as if he were being stabbed.
He hated hospitals; to him, injuries as simple as bruises were a sign of weakness.
Loki was not weak.
No, he couldn’t be.
He couldn’t allow himself to be.
His eyes kept burning before slowly beginning to grow wet.
How humiliating, was he really going to cry in front of a doctor?
And worse, in front of Hugo?
Then he felt something wrap around his hand, Vivian’s fingers firmly holding Julian’s with quiet steadiness.
He said nothing, but kept his gaze fixed on him.
Loki tightened his grip on his hand almost immediately, it was the only support he had in that vulnerable moment.
The doctor continued examining him.
He moved upward to the calf muscle, pressing different areas while observing the involuntary reactions in the leg.
“Does it hurt here?”
“Yes..” He murmured.
Another press.
“And here?” The striker inhaled sharply.
“Fuck— yes—” He said breathlessly, a few tears beginning to slide down his cheekbone.
The muscle contracted on its own every time certain areas were touched. The feeling of tightness spread across the entire back of his leg like a cable on the verge of brutally tearing apart.
The doctor frowned slightly, then grabbed Julian’s foot.
“I’m going to move it a little.” He barely managed to flex it before Julian let out another torn cry of pain.
The pain shot upward from the tendon to the back of his knee. His fingers trembled while clutching Hugo’s hand.
“𝘏𝘶𝘨𝘰..” He whispered in a childish sob.
Vivian frowned a little more, feeling genuinely terrified for the first time.
He didn’t know what to do.
What was he even supposed to do anyway?
The doctor finally released Julian’s foot, the pressure disappearing instantly, but the pain remained there, violently throbbing behind his ankle as if the tendon were still twisting beneath his skin.
The striker kept breathing unevenly, tears continuing to slowly fall down his cheeks, even though he was clearly trying to stop them at all costs.
How humiliating.
All of this was humiliating.
The doctor calmly removed his gloves, once again observing the swollen leg.
“Well.. based on the reaction to touch, the tendon tension, and the injury mechanism, it doesn’t seem to be a complete rupture.” The dark-skinned man felt something inside his chest loosen just a little.
Only a little.
“But you do have a pretty severe Achilles tendinopathy.” The man continued, pointing to the back of his ankle. “The Achilles tendon is extremely overloaded and inflamed. You were probably forcing it far beyond its limits for weeks before it finally collapsed during the sprint.”
Julian slowly lowered his gaze toward the hospital bed.
Weeks.
Of course.
The small aches.
The tension.
The pulling sensations after training.
The burning behind his ankle that disappeared once he warmed up properly.
He ignored all of it.
Because Loki didn’t stop because of pain.
He never did.
The doctor continued speaking while checking some notes.
“You’ll need immediate sports rest. No sprints, strong impact on your heel, sudden direction changes, or intense training for a while.”
“How long will I be unable to do sports activities?” The striker asked immediately.
Vivian frowned when he heard that. It bothered him knowing that even in situations like this, Loki still cared about football first.
“That will depend on how the tendon responds to treatment. But at minimum several weeks, maybe a few months.”
Several weeks.
Months?
The words hit him directly in the stomach.
Loki clenched his jaw so hard it hurt, and the man kept talking anyway.
“You’ll also need physiotherapy and progressive rehabilitation. We’re going to focus on reducing the inflammation, recovering mobility, and strengthening the tendon and calf again.”
As he spoke, Julian felt every word worsening the weight inside his chest.
Rehabilitation.
Rest.
No speed.
No football.
Nothing.
His identity had been abruptly invalidated.
He was a football star, how the fuck was he supposed to understand that he’d have to leave his football career behind for a while?
“If you return too soon, you risk a real Achilles tendon rupture.” The doctor finally added. “And if that happens, we’d be talking about surgery and months without sports activity. And if the surgery fails.. You could probably lose mobility in your leg.”
That instantly made the air feel heavy.
But Loki remained completely still throughout the entire explanation, his fingers slowly beginning to tighten around the white hospital sheet.
So tightly that his knuckles started turning pale.
He said nothing.
He couldn’t.
And what would even be the point? Nothing changed the fact that he would have to partially leave football behind.
It was useless.
He and his injury were useless.
He felt like an idiot, he was an idiot.
Oh God, he definitely was.
Besides, if he opened his mouth he’d probably end up yelling at the doctor that he was wrong.
That he could still play, could still run, didn’t need any kind of rest.
But the pain kept throbbing behind his ankle, brutally reminding him that this time his body was no longer keeping up with him.
The prodigy’s silence started to feel strange inside the room.
Even the doctor noticed it.
“I know this can be frustrating for a high-performance athlete, but you need to understand that your health is the priority in this situation.”
Julian almost let out an empty laugh when he heard that.
This felt more like being trapped inside a body that had just betrayed him.
He looked away to the side, unable to stand being seen like this.
He didn’t want them to see him like this.
.. So weak, so still.
It was humiliating.
He didn’t want anyone seeing him crying on a hospital bed like some rookie incapable of handling pain.
Then he felt Hugo’s hands again, still saying nothing.
He simply gently pulled the wrinkled sheet away from Julian’s tense fists and slowly intertwined his fingers with his.
As if he were trying to hold him together without forcing him to look at how broken he felt in that moment.
The doctor finished writing a few last things in the medical chart before looking back up at the striker.
“For now, it won’t be necessary to keep you hospitalized. You can go home today, but you’ll have to strictly follow several instructions.”
The man continued speaking while checking his swollen ankle once more.
“I’m going to prescribe anti-inflammatory medication and painkillers. You can apply cold or warm compresses several times a day to the area, though warm compresses usually help this type of injury more. Also, rest and avoid putting unnecessary weight on the leg for the next few days.”
Unlike Julian, Hugo was listening carefully.
The doctor grabbed a sheet of paper and began writing more specific instructions.
“I’m also going to refer you to sports physiotherapy as soon as possible. The rehabilitation will be progressive; first mobility, then strengthening the calf and Achilles tendon, and only after that will you start working on speed again.”
Speed.
That word twisted something awful inside his chest.
Because Loki was speed.
He always had been.
And now there was a doctor talking about it as if it were something distant.
As if it were something that needed to be rebuilt from zero.
“The most important thing is that you understand this, Julian..” The man finally said, looking at him seriously. “If you ignore the treatment and return to training too early, you could end up completely rupturing the tendon. And then we’d be talking about a much more serious injury. If it tears completely, surgery would probably be useless and we might not be able to restore the connection.”
Loki swallowed, still not responding.
The doctor let out a small sigh.
He was probably used to athletes reacting like this.
“Rest today. A nurse will bring you some crutches in a moment.”
After that, he picked up the medical chart and headed toward the door.
“We’ll see each other again for a follow-up in a few days.”
And he left the room.
The sound of the door closing left a heavy silence behind.
Crutches?
Seriously, crutches? What was he, disabled?
He could walk.
He still had both legs.
He can walk.
He has to walk.
He has to.
The striker kept staring fixedly at the hospital sheets, his eyes red.
But this time he didn’t try to hide it anymore, Hugo didn’t speak immediately.
He only watched as the Frenchman’s hands started trembling slightly.
And then Julian suddenly let out a breath.
“I can’t stop now..” His voice came out destroyed. “I can’t.. The World Cup is about to start.” He finally lifted a hand to his eyes, covering them in frustration. “Fuck..”
The trembling in his breathing worsened.
“What am I even supposed to do while everyone keeps playing?” He murmured, breaking more with every word. “Just sit there and watch?”
Hugo felt an unpleasant knot tighten in his chest, he had never seen Loki like this.
Never.
Loki was always moving; confident, fast, far too proud of himself.
And now he looked completely lost on a hospital bed.
“Julian..”
“What if it gets worse?” His voice cracked harder this time. “What if I can’t run the same anymore?”
That finally broke something.
Because Julian wasn’t only talking about football.
He was talking about himself.
Who was he without it?
If he didn’t have his speed, then who was he?
He was nobody.
No one would remember him as France’s prodigy superstar anymore.
Everyone would remember him as: «French prodigy abandons football career due to leg injury.»
What a humiliating title that sounded like.
Hugo moved toward him the moment he heard him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
One arm wrapped around his shoulders while the other rested behind his head, drawing him against his chest.
Julian tensed for barely a second.
And then he collapsed.
His fingers desperately clutched the damp fabric of Hugo’s shirt while his breathing finally broke apart completely.
The muffled sound of his sobs filled the room, Vivian tightening his arms around him even more.
As if he were trying to hold together something that felt like it was crumbling apart in his hands.
“I-I feel so stupid, Vivi..” He murmured between broken sobs. “I’m an idiot, that’s what I am. I’m an idiot, I’m so fucking stupid, shit, shit. Shit..”
“Look at me, Julian.” But the other only shook his head slightly, hiding his face further against him. “Julian, listen to me..” He insisted.
Hugo rested his cheek against his dark hair.
“You’re going to recover.” He said, with that calm and logical certainty he always carried.
As if he had already decided it would happen.
“And even if you can’t run for a while.. you’re still Julian Loki. And no one and nothing will ever take that title away from you, even if years, centuries, and millennia pass. You will still be France’s prodigy.” Loki let out another broken breath while Hugo continued stroking his back. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m going to stay with you for as long as necessary.”
The striker squeezed his eyes shut and ended up clinging to him even tighter.
Hugo could still feel the uneven trembling in his breathing.
“Breathe slowly..” He murmured softly, Loki pressing his eyes shut harder against his chest.
The smell of grass and sweat from Hugo’s shirt was still there, strangely familiar, and for the first time since the training session he felt like he could breathe without his chest hurting so much.
Even though he was still embarrassed.
Far too embarrassed.
“How pathetic..” Loki gasped with a broken voice, Vivian frowning slightly when he heard him.
“Don’t say that.”
“I passed out because of a tendon.”
“You passed out because of extreme pain, those are different things.” Vivian lowered his head slightly so he could look at him better. “You don’t have to act strong with me all the time, it’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes.”
That made Julian immediately look away.
Because that was exactly the problem.
With Hugo, he never knew how to pretend properly.
He felt Vivian’s hand stroking his hair again with calm slowness.
Almost too affectionate for someone like him.
And even worse, it worked.
The tension in his shoulders slowly started fading.
His breathing stopped breaking apart so much, even the pain seemed slightly more bearable when Hugo held him like that.
A few soft knocks on the door interrupted the moment.
Both of them slightly lifted their gaze.
The doctor returned accompanied by a nurse carrying a pair of crutches.
“Alright.” The man said as he entered again. “We’re going to explain how you should move around without putting too much weight on the tendon.”
Julian slowly let go of Hugo, though he clearly didn’t want to move too far away. The nurse placed the crutches beside the hospital bed while the doctor checked some papers again.
“For the first few days, you need to reduce tension on the tendon as much as possible. After that, we’ll begin progressive mobility and specific rehabilitation exercises.” Hugo listened to the instructions with absolute attention, as if memorizing every single word.
“What kind of exercises?” He suddenly asked.
“That will depend on how the inflammation progresses. Eccentric strengthening, ankle mobility, calf work, balance..”
Hugo nodded slowly, thinking.
“I can help him with that.” The doctor blinked slightly.
“Excuse me?”
“I can take care of his initial rehabilitation.” He said with complete naturalness. “Buy whatever’s necessary, supervise exercises, control the progressive load on the tendon..” Julian slightly lifted his head to look at him, Hugo still speaking with that same calm logic as always.
As if he had already organized everything mentally.
“I know Julian’s body well enough and how he functions physically. Besides, I can make sure he doesn’t force the tendon too early.”
“I understand the intention, but this should normally be handled by a sports professional. Incorrect rehabilitation could worsen the injury.” Hugo held the man’s gaze without becoming unsettled.
“I’m not going to improvise. I’ll research the full protocol and follow every necessary medical instruction.” The doctor still looked uncertain.
“Even so—”
“Please.” Loki interrupted, both men looking at him. His voice had come out much quieter.
The Frenchman kept his fingers clenched against the bedsheet while avoiding looking directly at the doctor.
“I don’t want to go through rehabilitation alone..” He admitted.
Hugo watched Julian tense his jaw again, clearly uncomfortable admitting something like that.
And for some reason, that only convinced him even more.
The doctor finally sighed.
“Alright. But only initially.” He clarified immediately. “If we don’t see clear improvement within the next few weeks, you’ll work directly with a professional sports physiotherapist. No exceptions.” Hugo nodded immediately.
“Understood.”
The inside of the car was strangely quiet. Only the soft sound of the engine and the occasional blinkers of the nighttime city reflecting through the windows could be heard.
Loki kept his head resting against the passenger window.
The crutches were placed in the back seat beside several pharmacy bags and medical boxes Hugo had insisted on buying before returning to the apartment.
Anti-inflammatory medication, painkillers, resistance bands, cold and warm compresses, a small electrostimulation machine, another one for muscle massages, and even a special cushion to elevate his leg while resting.
Everything was perfectly organized in a logical way.
But Julian couldn’t stop looking at all those things as if they belonged to someone else.
He could still feel the tendon throbbing behind his ankle even without moving it. The pain had lessened thanks to the medication, but it was still there, heavy and deep, reminding him every few seconds that something inside his body had failed.
He looked back toward the window again, the city lights passing quickly outside.
So fast.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.
The thought appeared involuntarily.
He immediately felt something tightening inside his chest again.
Fuck.
He didn’t want to cry again.
Not now.
Not again.
He swallowed hard while trying to breathe normally, but then his gaze accidentally dropped toward his immobilized right foot.
And something broke apart again.
“This is ridiculous..” He murmured.
Hugo briefly looked away from the road.
“What is?” The striker let out a small, empty laugh.
“All of this.” His fingers slowly tightened around the fabric of his sweatpants. “The crutches.. the machines.. the medication..” Every word sounded more bitter than the last. “I look like some retired old man.”
The midfielder frowned slightly.
“Julian—”
“I can’t even walk properly.” He continued, interrupting him. “Do you realize that?”
His voice cracked again.
He hated that.
He hated feeling this out of control.
“A few hours ago I was training and now I need someone to explain how to use crutches.” Julian slightly turned his face back toward the window, clearly trying to hide how his eyes were beginning to burn again. “How pathetic..”
Hugo slowly let go of the steering wheel with one hand. And without saying anything, he rested it over the other’s thigh.
His fingers began slowly stroking the fabric of the sweatpants, moving up and down with steady calmness.
Loki inhaled shakily, the sensation making the knot in his chest loosen slightly. The midfielder kept his eyes fixed on the road as he spoke.
“You’re not pathetic for getting injured.” The other let out a broken breath.
“You say that because you’re not the one who can’t run.” That finally made Hugo slightly turn his head toward him.
“No. I say it because your body had been pushing itself far beyond what it could handle for too long.” His voice remained calm, with no intention of arguing. “Your tendon didn’t get injured because you’re weak. It got injured because you pushed your speed to an absurd limit for years, overworked it too much, and it ended up damaged from the accumulated stress in that area.”
Hugo kept slowly stroking his thigh with his thumb.
“And you’re going to recover.” He added.
“What if I don’t?” The question came out so quickly and quietly that it almost sounded involuntary.
“Then we’d find another way.” The striker slightly turned his head to look at him. “But I’m not going to let you face this alone. So stop thinking as if you’re already finished.”
The words hit something painfully sensitive inside his chest.
Because Hugo didn’t sound worried, he sounded determined like always.
As if staying beside him through all of this was the most natural thing in the world.
The hand on his thigh slowly stroked him again.
And this time Julian didn’t try to hide how his eyes finally filled again.
But it didn’t hurt the same way anymore.
Because even though he was still terrified, now he knew he wasn’t going to be alone while going through all of this.