imbalance | trent alexander-arnold¹

twelve.

"Okay, but on one condition," she remained silent, awaiting his verdict.

When Trent tapped his lips twice, she let out a throaty laugh at his child-like actions. "Are you be serious right now, Trent? We literally went on our first date last night."

"So? Please, I know I want this but I don't want to do it if you're not comfortable with it," Trent said with soft eyes.

Her frail heart almost cracked at his heartfelt words. Although she wasn't one to trip over the mention of boys, Wynter never allowed herself to fall for men ever so aimlessly, even if they displayed such charm and interest towards her. However, within her lifetime, she'd only found herself involved with two guys and as amazing as they were (or how she viewed them at the time), she believed that it was unfair to compare them with the man that she laid in bed with.

Trent held so much care within his words and Wynter appreciated it. It clearly showed her that he wasn't attempting to simply just woo her over in that way and rush into something in which he didn't even know was going to end up. Instead, he valued to set the cornerstone of their slowly-forming relationship before he moved into the much more complex parts of it.

A serene smile appeared on her lips as she glanced at Trent who awaited her response. Her fingers travelled up from his torso where they first laid to finally halt by his jawline, causing a content groan to slip out of Trent's mouth. He leaned into her touch and just as their lips were meant to cross, the french girl turned her face and so Trent's lips missed the plump target and ultimately landed on her cheek.

When he processed everything that happened within the last few seconds, the scouse groaned into his pillow as Wynter let out a loud, joyous laugh as she got out of bed.

"Winnie, you can't be serious right now!"

She walked over to one of her drawers and drew out sweatpants along with a hoodie. "Sorry, T. I'm going to be late if I don't start to get ready now. I'm pretty sure my mom's also sending someone to get me so I need to be ready by then," Wynter popped her trademark smile before she entered into her bathroom in a rush.

. . .

After Trent departed from Wynter's place, he decided to head over to his parents' house since he had nothing better to do. He was also informed the day before that his brothers would be in attendance so he knew for sure that his early afternoon would surely be an eventful one.

Now in new, fresh clothing than earlier on, Trent knocked on the door of his childhood home. Faint voices from the other side of the door reached his ears as he patiently waited. What felt like an eternity, the door was finally opened by his mom, whose face lit up at the sight of her son. She quickly gave him a warm hug, making him laugh at his mom's actions. "Trent, sweetheart, perfect timing that you're here! Also, congrats on the winning the match you had yesterday. You played so well. Come in inside."

"Thanks, mum."

The pair chatted amongst themselves as they headed towards the kitchen where everyone else seemed to be situated. Upon seeing his family members, Trent greeted them all individually—hugs and handshakes being exchanged amongst the family. After they all fell into conversations with each other while they downed the delicious food made by the woman of the household.

As he finished up the food he ate, Trent felt a pair of glaring eyes of him. He glanced up and witnessed Tyler who sent him a smirk. "What?"

"Don't say what. You know exactly what I'm talking about." Tyler scoffed.

"No, seriously. I don't know what you're talking about. You could literally be talking about anything, Ty. Be specific."

"Alright then, since you seriously don't know." Tyler rolled his eyes at his brother's behaviour. "Where were you last night? I thought you planned to stop by the house after your match." He questioned.