late night in June

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CHAPTER XV


She dabbled the ball between her feet, slow, testing. It had only been minutes since practice ended, but the boys did not take long to clear the premise, even the unhurried ones with their waiting beau. They too left, soon enough. But she loitered.

"Oi!" Someone hollered at her across the distance. A guard making rounds stood at the edge of the tartan track, signing for her to leave. "The lights will turn off in a minute," he warned.

"I'm fine without," she smiled, disarming. She had approached him so she would not have to shout a reply.

"I may just be an old man spouting nonsense, but I didn't live this long, not knowing things—it's not sweet for girls to be alone, especially in the dark."

"I'm going to run for a bit. I promise to leave after."

Besides, it would not be entirely dark, it never is. There were lights everywhere: streetlamps leading up to the field, the lit buildings nearby, but she was not about to tell him that. Instead, "You must be busy, please don't mind me."

"You're asking too much—I make a living being nosy," gruff. "I'll keep one light on, and you'll leave in half-hour." Firm.

"I will. Thank you."

There was no reason to be ungracious by his kind offer. She did not realise she meant it until the day-like brightness dimmed after he was gone. But he kept one floodlight beaming as promised. She still could make out the entire stadium from end to end, but now the companion of night hovered over her. She could tell the stars apart too.

She wound back onto the field, the dewy grass prickled the skin around her ankle; the sky and the ground seemed endless here, vast with no edge for her to hold on to. She wondered if anyone felt they could run fast enough to escape it. She could drown into nothingness if she were to stare longer, but it was not sinister. Only a little strange hug for lonely souls.

She ran. The ball between her feet. Her measures were stilted at first, but soon, it was almost as easy as she remembered it to be. See, she used to play with avid boys obsessing over football when she was much younger, and they competed over everything—even something as petty as teaching her cool tricks when she barely could stop a ball with her hands. She got better because of them, of course. Good enough to be the first few picks for football games played during pe, and even though it had been a good while since, she realised there were things you just did not forget.

She dribbled along purposively now, the bristling grass immaterial, the looming darkness an afterthought. She zig-zagged towards the goalpost, exhilarated, imagining the faces of her childhood paladins in front of her; dodging them, almost could hear the echoes of their hooting praises too. She smiled, the ball hard on her toes.

She felt it, she swore she did. Except, when she blinked it was already rolling backwards, and she was only kicking air. The tackle was too fast; too smooth that she had not realised someone had taken the ball from her until it was gone. It was a steal.

She struggled against inertia, willing her body to turn. It was surprising to find a familiar face grinning at her just a little away. He was fresh from the showers, eyes glinting, and the ball he stole in the air with his fancy foot tricks. His mirth was contagious.

"That's not fair," she jogged towards him. "I didn't know I was playing against someone; I didn't have my guards up."

It was her excuse because she was no match for Jeon Jungkook—this was his turf. It had been stunning to see him play from the stand, but nothing quite prepared her to see his precise manoeuvres up so close. He was precise and graceful, a golden wraith dancing in moonlight as he teased the ball at her, his movements enamouring. He was enamouring.

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