Nathaniel - Close Enough To Feel Everything.

Once the club settled down, we met at The Old Millers Pub next to the hotel where the miller once lived. As I open the heavy oak door with its glass-in-lead Mill display, I’m greeted by the hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and creaking floorboards.

The scent of oak, leather, and a smoky hearth lingers under ornate chandeliers, casting an ember glow over the timeless scene.

I climb the spiral staircase, passing brick walls lined with Eldermoor memorabilia, to reach the mezzanine.

I’m the first to arrive, taking my seat at the table’s end, leaning back against cracked leather. Emma follows with ginger-spiced cider; Markus and Jay close behind, squeezing in next to me.

The others arrive, filling the booth. Freya slides closer to make room for Leo, her coconut body butter exotic against the pub’s backdrop and glowing under candlelight.

I can't help but take advantage of breathing it in, taking me back to a time when she left it lingering in my sheets.

“So, Leo,” Kaiden says, sitting across from me, swirling his mug, “I heard about your training camps. Impressive.”

"Kids get to train with professional coaches," Leo replies, his eyes flickering proudly.

Over the course of three years, the training weekends expanded, being held only in the fall and spring, when kids had two weeks off. I always clear my schedule to help, as we all do. It’s not about recognition, but giving back our love for the game.

"Ever thought of building on that?” I ask, sipping cider.

"Actually..." He narrows his eyes, staring into the mug. "What if we did more than a training weekend? What if we created something that changed how the next generation sees soccer—a week-long experience these kids would remember forever?"

Excitement leaves me speechless, and I can’t help but smile. I see Leo’s vision: Eldermoor as a place where soccer is reborn, children running through the fields.

"That's amazing," I say, my excitement obvious.

"How can we help?” Freya asks, matching my excitement.

Leo describes his vision, opening it to Eldermoor and teams from other countries—a once-in-a-lifetime experience for players and volunteers alike.

"I can build the website and stir up social media," Gemma offers. She freelances in the ICT sector, so it’s a perfect fit. I can already imagine her pouring all that energy into it.

Chiming in, I volunteer, "The Sport Clinic can provide First Aid, and I'd like to host a seminar about preventing sports injuries." I only realised I had said the last part after it was out.

Leo’s expression shifts from shy to overwhelmed as everyone offers to help make his dream real.

Freya brushes away a lock of her hair, accidentally touching my cheek and leaving me wishing for more. I see Kaiden pause, watching Freya and me, then emptying his mug. "Our bakery will pitch in by supplying bread, and if you have any other way I can help, let me know," she says.

As the evening wears on and conversations turn quieter, Freya squeezes my thigh under the table, granting me a promising smile as she rises. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Kaiden’s gaze lingering a second too long

As the evening wears on and conversations turn quieter, Freya squeezes my thigh under the table, granting me a promising smile as she rises. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Kaiden’s gaze lingering a second too long. Not on her face. Lower. To where her hand lingers a second too long. My jaw tightens before I can stop it.

He straightens in his seat, mug paused halfway to his lips, eyes narrowing just slightly as he tracks the space between us. He lets out a slow breath, jaw flexing, then looks away, draining the last of his drink.

Strolling through town at night was a soothing experience. The sky was obsidian; stars blazed so intensely that streetlights seemed pointless.

A brisk wind sliced through, sharpening the air. I shoved my hands deep into my sweater pockets, savouring warmth as it crept back into my fingers.

Just as I found my rhythm, my smartwatch lit up. I stopped, tapped the small screen—a message from Freya.

I can’t sleep. Are you home?

I voice-typed my reply into the watch, sent it, and hurried home.

Back at my apartment, the plain rooms greeted me. It wasn’t luxurious—just functional.

I washed up, tamed my hair, and inspected my teeth, brushing and rinsing with mouthwash. A splash of cologne and I felt ready.

The bell rang three times before I opened the door, grinning. Freya pressed two fingers to my lips. “Let’s not talk, not yet,” she said, brushing past and closing the door.

Later, in my bedroom, we stayed in bed longer than planned—her leg around my waist, hair tangled on my chest, her fingers tracing my jaw. Freya glanced up, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “It’s nice, just the two of us right now.”

I shot her a sideways look, teasing her but letting a bit of frustration seep in. "Yeah, the group's always together lately. Feels like none of us has our own lives anymore."

She smiled softly. "It’s not such a bad thing, is it? Not everyone has friends like that. Honestly, I like it—a lot. Back in the city, friendships were just surface-deep."

Freya's eyes gleamed, a sly grin growing. "Guess what? I know something you don't."

I glanced at her, already guessing the gossip. Leaning in, I lowered my voice. “If it’s Gemma knocking Markus’ teeth with that fierce tongue of hers…” I paused, watching her reaction. “I’ve seen the evidence.”

Freya slammed her hands on my chest, her laughter growing sharper until it faded, and an edgier energy settled in. Warmth faded as reality drifted between us. The shared amusement vanished, leaving awareness raw and heavy with something unspoken.

My hand tangled in her hair, and a familiar uncertainty clouded my thoughts. I measured every word I wanted to say, fearing that asking too much would ruin what I tried to rebuild. Would the smallest wrong move send her drifting away? I kept my voice soft, not knowing if it would even reach her ears. "Freya, what are we?"

Her hand slipped from my cheek—a retreat more eloquent than words. Coldness pricked the air as distance replaced comfort. When her gaze finally returned to mine, her voice steadied, hushed but certain. “I don't know.”

I straighten myself, pressing my back against the headboard. My fingers knot in my hair, tugging at the roots. “I hate not knowing where we stand. You say you forgive me, but everything feels off—like it’s out of my hands."

Freya keeps her gaze on me, she joins, pulls up the sheet to cover her exposed skin. For a moment, she hesitated, her arm hovering in the empty space before landing on my leg. ​ "This—" I gestured at the space between us. "This not knowing is wearing me down." ​ "It's not easy for me either, but I'm here, aren't I?" Her voice cracked as she tugged the sheet higher, eyes shining with unshed tears. Her vulnerability edged into the silence. "Why can’t we just stay like this?"

She cupped my jaw, drawing me in, her lips quivering as they found mine. I felt her words in the tremor. "This in-between is all I can manage."

Her honesty hit me like a weight, stirring a knot in my chest and sweeping away certainty. I wanted to promise her everything, but I hesitated—not sure what I wanted myself. Not yet.

I need something I can control.

I swallowed hard, forcing calm over the storm inside me. When I pulled her closer, her body softened instantly against mine, heat settling between us.

“I can try,” I breathed, letting myself fall straight into her eyes before kissing her — fierce, hungry, like I’d been holding my breath for weeks.

I couldn’t stop. Not now.

My hands slid beneath her lower back, lifting her toward me as my mouth left hers, trailing down her neck. I dragged my tongue slowly across her collarbone, feeling her arch up in response.

Her fingers slipped under the pillow, searching for something to hold on to as I moved lower, my lips tasting every inch of her skin.

When I glanced up, my mouth against the soft curve of her chest, her head was tilted back, lips parted.

“Oh, Nate…” she moaned, her hands flying into my hair, gripping tight, holding me exactly where she wanted me.

Her voice filled the room, shaking whatever control I had left.

I couldn’t stay there — I wanted more, needed more.

Gently, I caught her wrists and guided her hands above her head, pinning them softly against the sheets. Her eyes met mine, glazed with want.

“Let me take care of you,” I whispered.

She lifted her chin, reaching up for a kiss.

“Then don’t stop.”

As if I ever could.

❤️ Maliyka ❤️