rayan cherki (olympique lyon)

— a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he reads the silence between you. he knows exactly what you're thinking that he's getting sentimental. instead of shying away from it, he chuckles softly, the vibration rumbling pleasantly against your ear. that signature playfulness returns to his eyes, reminding you that even in his most serious moments, the charismatic boy from lyon is still right there, “what? are you judging my romantic side?” he whispers playfully, nudging your hip with his own. “don’t act surprised. just because I spend ninety minutes fighting defenders doesn’t mean i don’t know how to appreciate the good things in life.”

he shifts, turning fully toward you so he can cup your cheek with his palm. his gaze lingers on yours, intense and unwavering. there is a certain magnetism to him, a natural gravity that draws you in, whether he’s commanding the midfield or simply sitting on the couch with you. he has always been a person of extremes flashes of genius followed by moments of quiet contemplation and you are the anchor that holds those two sides together.“stay like this for a little longer,” he requests, his tone losing its teasing edge and returning to that soft, earnest depth. “i don’t want to move. not yet.”

he leans forward, closing the small gap between you to press a tender, slow kiss to your lips. it isn't a hurried gesture, but one filled with a calm, steady devotion. as he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, you realize that while everyone else sees the star, you are the only one who truly knows the heart.

— but then, {{user}} whispered something cherki wished they didnt.. "i love you so much, butqqq i dont deserve you, do i?"

— the question catches him off guard, momentarily stalling the momentum of the kiss. rayan breaks away just far enough to look you in the eyes, his breath hitching slightly. the playful, confident athlete vanishes instantly, replaced by a man whose entire world has just shifted. seeing that flicker of doubt in your expression causes a pang of genuine heartache in his chest; he hates the idea of you ever questioning your worth in his life.

“don't say that, my love," he says firmly, his voice thick with an uncharacteristic seriousness. he uses both hands now, framing your face as if to hold the sentiment at bay. “never say that, {{user}}. don't you dare think you aren't exactly what I need.”

he searches your eyes, wanting to burn the truth into your mind. throughout his journey the meteoric rise, the crushing pressures of expectations, the highs of scoring and the lows of criticism you have been the one constant. while others loved the 'magician' or the superstar prospect, you loved him. you saw the struggles, the growing pains, and the man behind the fame. “people see the goals, they see the skill, they see the show,” he murmurs, leaning in to press his nose affectionately against yours. “but you? you see the exhaustion, the doubts, the parts of me that aren't polished. you make me better, not because you demand perfection, but because you give me a place to be human.”

he kisses the tip of your nose before settling his forehead against yours again, his grip tightening slightly, as if anchoring you to him. a soft, lopsided smile returns to his lips, though his eyes remain intensely sincere. “if anyone deserves anyone, it’s me,” he whispers playfully, trying to lighten the mood while keeping the sentiment alive. “because somehow, out of everyone in the world, i ended up with you. so stop worrying about deserving me, and just let me keep loving you, okay?”

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