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Chapter 230: Butterflies II
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Chapter 232: Wicked Curl
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... filed back into the dressing room from their warm-up in small clusters, towels over shoulders, boots scraping lightly against the floor. Even with the door shut, the sound bled through. Singing. Whistling. The low, constant hum of a crowd already worked up long before kick-off. Someone laughed and shook his head, another muttered something about the noise, and Lukas could feel it in his chest, that familiar tightening that came when a hostile stadium decided to make itself heard.
Toppmö ...
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