The King Of Arsenal

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(A/N: Also everyone I have a new novel named "From Couch To The Inquisitor", be sure to check it out and give some power stone)

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And in another fiercely contested North London Derby, they had done it through a mixture of youth, experience, tactical adjustment and one perfectly struck free kick from the three-time Ballon d'Or winner.

Then the days after the Carabao Cup quarter-final settled back into the familiar rhythm of a football season that seemed determined never to slow down.

There was little time to linger over the victory.

By the following morning, London Colney had already returned to its usual purpose. The players arrived in stages, some carrying coffees, others still looking slightly tired from the previous evening, but nobody needed reminding that another Premier League fixture was waiting.

The coaching staff divided the squad according to workload.

Those who had played significant minutes against Tottenham began with recovery work. Light cycling, stretching, mobility exercises and controlled movement allowed tired muscles to loosen without placing unnecessary strain on them. The medical and conditioning staff moved between the players, checking on small knocks and monitoring fatigue.

Francesco spent part of the session on the bike before moving onto the grass.

The cold air sat low over the training pitches.

He pulled his jacket tighter while listening to the instructions from the fitness coaches, then joined the rest of the squad for a series of controlled passing exercises.

The intensity gradually increased over the following sessions.

Fitness work was followed by possession drills. Wenger's staff arranged the players into compact groups, demanding quick decisions and sharp movement whenever possession changed hands. The emphasis was not simply on keeping the ball but on understanding what to do with it once it had been recovered.

There were tactical exercises.

Attacking patterns.

Defensive transitions.

Finishing.

Set pieces.

Small-sided games in which the players were given limited touches and forced to think before receiving the ball.

Francesco remained involved throughout, although Wenger continued to manage his workload carefully.

There was nothing unusual about it.

That was perhaps the remarkable part.

Only days earlier, he had stood beneath the lights in Paris holding the Ballon d'Or for the third consecutive time.

Now he was at London Colney arguing with Serge Gnabry over whether a shot had actually crossed the line during a finishing drill.

"It was in," Gnabry insisted.

"It hit the post."

"It went in off the post."

"It hit the outside."

Gnabry looked toward the nearest coach.

"He's blind."

Francesco laughed.

The coach shook his head.

"Both of you. Next ball."

That was football.

The glamour disappeared quickly.

The next match was always waiting.

Huddersfield Town

Arsenal returned to the Emirates for their next Premier League fixture against Huddersfield Town.

The stadium was full again, although the atmosphere carried a different character from the intensity of the North London Derby.

Arsenal started confidently.

They moved the ball patiently from the opening minutes, forcing Huddersfield to defend for long periods. Xhaka and Kanté provided stability behind the attacking players, while Özil continually searched for spaces between the visiting midfield and defence.

Francesco moved across the front line rather than remaining fixed between the centre-backs.

He dropped toward the ball.

Then he spun behind the defence.

He drifted toward the left before suddenly moving centrally.

Huddersfield struggled to decide whether to follow him or maintain their defensive shape.

The game remained tight, however.

Arsenal created opportunities without finding the breakthrough.

A header went over.

A shot was blocked.

Another effort was saved.

The longer the match remained goalless, the more important the next attack became.

Eventually, Arsenal found it.

The move developed patiently through midfield before the ball reached Francesco near the edge of the penalty area.

He took one touch to settle himself.

There was barely any room.

A defender stepped toward him.

Francesco shifted the ball onto his right foot and struck through the opening.

The shot stayed low.

The goalkeeper reacted late.

The ball crossed the line.

1–0.

Francesco turned away immediately, accepting the congratulations of his teammates as the Emirates celebrated the breakthrough.

Huddersfield tried to respond.

Arsenal had to defend.

The final stages became less comfortable than the scoreline suggested, but Arsenal refused to give the visitors the opportunity they needed.

When the final whistle arrived, the scoreboard still read 1–0.

Another three points.

Another decisive goal from Francesco.

It had not been spectacular.

It had not needed to be.

Sometimes the most important contribution was simply the one that separated victory from a frustrating afternoon.

The squad returned to Colney soon afterward and began preparing for Southampton.

There was no extended celebration.

The season was moving too quickly for that.

St Mary's Stadium

Southampton provided an entirely different challenge.

From the opening stages at St Mary's, the match seemed to possess a nervous energy that never disappeared.

Arsenal scored.

Southampton responded.

Arsenal attacked again.

Southampton refused to retreat.

Danny Ings quickly became one of the central figures in the contest, finding space and attacking every opportunity that came his way.

Francesco contributed for Arsenal, finishing one of their attacks to put his side among the goals.

But the match refused to settle.

Alexis Sánchez added another for Arsenal, using his movement and sharpness to exploit an opening that had appeared in the Southampton defence.

Serge Gnabry then completed Arsenal's scoring.

Three goals.

Three different moments in which Arsenal looked capable of finally taking control.

Yet Southampton kept coming.

Ings struck again.

His second goal brought the hosts back into the contest and immediately changed the feeling inside the stadium.

Arsenal tried to regain control through possession, but Southampton were playing with the desperation of a side that knew the match remained within reach.

The final stages became chaotic.

Players were tiring.

Spaces opened.

Both teams were beginning to defend through instinct as much as structure.

Arsenal attempted to see the game out.

Southampton pushed numbers forward.

Then came the late equalizer.

Charlie Austin found the opportunity he needed and finished.

3–3.

For several seconds, Arsenal's players simply looked toward one another.

There was still time to search for another goal, but Southampton had momentum.

Arsenal pushed.

Southampton defended.

Neither side found the decisive seventh goal.

When the referee finally ended the contest, six goals had been scored and neither team had managed to separate itself from the other.

Francesco walked toward the tunnel alongside Alexis.

"That was exhausting," Alexis said.

Francesco exhaled.

"Yeah."

Gnabry caught up with them.

"At least we scored three."

Alexis glanced at him.

"And conceded three."

Gnabry considered that.

"Less impressive."

Francesco laughed despite himself.

The result was disappointing.

But there was little time to dwell on it.

Back at London Colney

The squad returned to training with the Southampton draw behind them.

Recovery came first.

Then fitness.

Then the tactical work shifted toward Burnley.

The coaches worked on attacking movements against a compact defensive block, while the midfielders practiced circulating possession without becoming impatient.

The forwards spent additional time finishing.

Francesco remained after one session to work through several attempts with Giroud and Gnabry.

Giroud finished one and turned toward Francesco.

"Your turn."

Francesco scored.

Giroud nodded.

"Not bad."

"Not bad?"

"You've had worse."

Francesco smiled.

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

The next Premier League match was at home.

Burnley were coming to the Emirates.

And Arsenal intended to respond.

Arsenal vs Burnley

The difference was evident from the beginning.

Arsenal played with purpose.

The passing was crisp.

The movement was coordinated.

Burnley struggled to keep Arsenal's attacking players from finding positions between the lines.

Francesco eventually broke the deadlock.

The Emirates responded immediately.

The goal settled Arsenal rather than making them careless.

They continued pressing for another.

Gnabry found it.

His finish made it 2–0, and Arsenal's control became increasingly obvious.

Burnley attempted to push forward, but every time they committed numbers, Arsenal found space behind them.

Özil added a third.

The German's finish was composed, almost casual, but the result was the same.

3–0.

Arsenal were in complete command.

As the second half progressed, Wenger began thinking about workload again.

He looked toward the bench.

Francesco had done his part.

The manager called him over.

"You've done enough."

Francesco nodded.

At the next stoppage, he made his way toward the touchline.

Giroud stood ready.

They exchanged a quick handshake.

"Finish it," Francesco told him.

Giroud smiled.

"I'll try."

The substitution was made.

Olivier Giroud entered the pitch in Francesco's place.

And not long afterward, he delivered.

A well-worked Arsenal attack reached Giroud inside the area.

He controlled the ball, created enough space and finished.

4–0.

The Emirates enjoyed the goal.

Giroud raised a hand toward the supporters before turning back toward his teammates.

Arsenal saw the remaining minutes out professionally.

Burnley never found a way through.

When the final whistle arrived, the scoreboard showed exactly what Arsenal wanted.

Arsenal 4–0 Burnley.

Francesco watched the final minutes from the bench, applauding when Giroud scored and standing when the whistle confirmed the clean sheet.

It had been a comfortable afternoon.

Four goals.

None conceded.

Another Premier League victory.

The football continued.

So did the training.

Another recovery session followed.

Another morning at Colney.

Another tactical exercise.

Another day in which the players moved from one responsibility to the next.

But eventually, even the relentless football calendar gave Francesco something different to think about.

Christmas.

Christmas Eve

One morning, Francesco woke naturally.

For a few seconds, he simply stared at the ceiling.

Then he reached for his phone.

The date appeared on the screen.

He blinked.

Christmas Eve.

He lowered the phone and smiled.

"Already?"

Leah, still beside him, stirred.

"What?"

Francesco turned toward her.

"It's Christmas Eve."

Leah opened one eye.

"I know."

"You knew?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't tell me?"

She smiled sleepily.

"I assumed you'd eventually work it out."

Francesco laughed.

Football had consumed so much of the calendar that Christmas had somehow arrived almost unnoticed.

But there was no match today.

No tactical meeting.

No flight.

No training session waiting at Colney.

For once, the day belonged to them.

By late morning, Richmond began changing.

Boxes emerged from storage.

Leah carried several into the living room while Francesco brought another stack down from upstairs.

Cheddar followed them.

He investigated every box as though the contents required his personal approval.

"Move," Leah told him gently.

Cheddar looked at her.

Then he walked directly toward another box.

"Cheddar."

The corgi stopped.

Francesco laughed.

"He's helping."

"He's inspecting."

"Important distinction."

Leah opened the first container of ornaments.

Soon the living room began filling with colour and small reminders of Christmas.

Decorations were placed along shelves.

Ornaments were arranged carefully.

The rooms gradually gained a warmer appearance.

Francesco carried decorations toward another part of the mansion while Leah adjusted the arrangement in the living room.

They worked naturally together.

There was no elaborate plan.

They simply moved through the house, noticing what needed to be done and helping each other.

Cheddar, meanwhile, remained determined to participate.

At one point he wandered beneath a decoration Leah had just positioned.

His tail brushed against it.

The ornament swung.

Leah froze.

"Cheddar."

The dog looked back innocently.

Francesco covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.

"Don't."

"I didn't say anything."

"You're laughing."

"I am absolutely not."

The ornament tipped.

Francesco caught it before it fell.

Leah shook her head.

"See?"

"I saw."

"Your assistant nearly destroyed it."

"He's not an assistant."

"What is he, then?"

Francesco looked at Cheddar.

"Quality control."

Leah laughed.

Later, while Francesco was arranging decorations along one of the tables, Cheddar wandered into the room again and somehow managed to move a small pile of ornaments with his nose.

Two rolled beneath the furniture.

Leah stared at him.

Cheddar sat down.

Francesco crouched to retrieve them.

"You're doing a lot of work today."

Cheddar blinked.

Leah smiled.

"He thinks we're decorating for him."

"Maybe we are."

"No."

"Fair enough."

The hours passed without either of them noticing.

The mansion slowly became unrecognizable compared with the ordinary days of football schedules and recovery sessions.

Christmas decorations appeared throughout the rooms.

The living spaces became warmer.

Small ornaments occupied shelves and tables.

The house smelled faintly of whatever Leah had prepared while they worked.

There were moments when they stopped simply because they were tired.

Francesco would sit for a few minutes.

Leah would join him.

They would look around at what they had accomplished.

Then one of them would notice another box waiting to be opened.

And the process would begin again.

At one point, Leah looked at Francesco while he struggled with a decoration that refused to sit properly.

"You've scored in World Cup finals, won Champions Leagues and somehow won three Ballon d'Ors."

Francesco glanced at her.

"Yes?"

"And this is defeating you."

He looked down at the decoration.

"It has a design flaw."

Leah laughed.

"Of course."

"I blame the manufacturer."

"Obviously."

Eventually he managed to position it correctly.

"There."

Leah nodded.

"Very impressive."

Francesco bowed slightly.

"Thank you."

By late afternoon, the work was nearly finished.

They stepped back and looked around.

The mansion had changed completely.

What had begun as a collection of boxes and loose decorations had become a proper Christmas home.

Francesco stood beside Leah, his arm resting comfortably around her shoulders.

Cheddar wandered through the room.

He paused beside one of the decorations.

A small piece of ribbon had somehow become attached to his collar.

Leah noticed first.

She pointed.

"Look."

Francesco looked down.

Cheddar seemed completely unaware.

He smiled.

"Evidence."

"Evidence of what?"

"That he helped."

Leah shook her head, laughing softly.

"He's going to leave evidence everywhere."

Cheddar walked away, the ribbon still attached.

Francesco watched him go.

"He already has."

Leah leaned against him.

For once, there was nowhere they needed to be.

No stadium.

No dressing room.

No training pitch.

No tactical board.

Just their home, their decorations, the quiet of Richmond outside the windows and the approaching Christmas morning.

The football world could wait for a day.

The trophies could wait.

The headlines could wait.

Tonight, none of that mattered.

Francesco looked around the decorated mansion and then at Leah.

"Looks good."

She smiled.

"It does."

Cheddar settled nearby, surrounded by the faint traces of the work he had repeatedly interrupted.

A ribbon here.

A displaced ornament there.

A small mess that would need fixing tomorrow.

Leah noticed another decoration slightly out of place.

She sighed.

"Cheddar."

The corgi lifted his head.

Francesco laughed.

"Leave it."

"Why?"

"It's Christmas."

Leah looked at him, then at Cheddar.

She smiled.

"Fine."

And so they left it.

The mansion stood warm and bright around them, ready for the holiday.

After weeks of matches, travel, training and relentless football, Christmas Eve had finally brought them somewhere quieter.

Francesco and Leah remained together in the decorated home, with Cheddar resting nearby and his unmistakable traces scattered among the decorations.

Then Christmas morning arrived quietly at Richmond.

There were no alarms demanding that Francesco get out of bed.

No training schedule waiting on his phone.

No coach sending instructions.

No team bus.

For the first time in what seemed like weeks, there was nowhere he needed to be.

The house was already warm when Francesco finally came downstairs, and the decorated Christmas tree stood in the corner of the living room exactly as they had left it the previous evening. The ornaments caught the soft morning light, while a few wrapped presents sat beneath the tree.

Leah was already there.

She had changed into comfortable Christmas clothes and was standing near the tree with a mug in her hands.

Cheddar was lying nearby, looking considerably more interested in the possibility of breakfast than Christmas itself.

Francesco smiled.

"Merry Christmas."

Leah turned.

"Merry Christmas."

Cheddar lifted his head.

Francesco looked down at him.

"And Merry Christmas to you."

The corgi blinked.

Leah laughed.

"I don't think he understands."

"He understands food."

"That he definitely understands."

They spent a few quiet minutes simply enjoying the morning before Leah suggested they take a photograph.

Francesco agreed immediately.

They positioned themselves beside the Christmas tree, with the decorations clearly visible behind them.

Cheddar, naturally, refused to cooperate at first.

He wandered away just as they were getting ready.

"Cheddar," Leah called.

The corgi stopped.

Francesco crouched slightly.

"Come here."

Cheddar looked between them before finally walking back.

"There we go," Leah said.

They settled together, Francesco beside Leah while Cheddar sat in front of them.

The photograph was taken.

Nothing about it was elaborate.

There were no cameras from a magazine.

No formal clothing.

No photographers waiting for a perfect angle.

Just Francesco, Leah and Cheddar beside their Christmas tree.

Francesco looked at the picture afterward.

"I like it."

"So do I."

He opened Instagram and posted it.

The caption was simple.

Merry Christmas🎄🎄🎄

It did not take long.

The notifications began almost immediately.

Likes appeared one after another.

Then comments.

Arsenal supporters sent Christmas wishes.

Friends from football left messages.

Teammates joined in.

Some were sincere.

Some were jokes.

A few simply consisted of Christmas emojis.

Gnabry was among the first.

"Christmas without training. Enjoy it while it lasts."

Francesco laughed.

Another teammate replied beneath him.

"Let the man rest."

Then came a message congratulating Francesco and Leah and wishing happiness to their family.

Another supporter wrote that the photograph was one of Francesco's best posts of the year.

The number of likes continued climbing.

Leah glanced over his shoulder.

"You've been awake for five minutes and you're already reading comments."

Francesco put the phone down.

"Fair point."

"Good."

He smiled.

"Although Gnabry's comment was funny."

"Of course you noticed that one."

Before Francesco could answer, the sound of a car arriving outside drew Cheddar's attention.

The corgi stood immediately.

Leah looked toward the entrance.

"They're here."

Francesco followed her.

A few minutes later, the front door opened and Mike and Sarah walked inside.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas!"

Francesco greeted his parents warmly.

Sarah immediately looked around the mansion.

"Oh, this looks beautiful."

Leah smiled.

"Thank you."

Mike removed his coat and looked toward the tree.

"You two did all this yesterday?"

"Most of it," Francesco said.

Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"Most?"

Francesco glanced toward Cheddar.

"Somebody contributed."

Mike looked at the corgi.

Cheddar wagged his tail.

"I see," Mike said. "Very important work."

Leah laughed.

Not long afterward, another arrival brought David, Amanda and Jacob to the mansion.

The house became noticeably livelier.

Christmas greetings were exchanged at the door.

Coats were taken upstairs.

People carried food into the kitchen.

Conversations began almost immediately.

Sarah and Amanda found themselves talking together while Leah helped arrange some of the food. Mike and David settled into an easy conversation, occasionally interrupted by Jacob, who seemed to have several stories he wanted to tell.

Francesco moved between everyone, making sure nobody needed anything.

Cheddar was equally busy.

But unlike the previous evening, when his curiosity had repeatedly interfered with decorations, today he simply moved from person to person.

He received attention from Sarah.

Then Amanda.

Then Jacob.

Then he wandered back toward Francesco.

Jacob looked at him.

"He's definitely enjoying this."

"He's getting spoiled," Francesco replied.

Mike smiled.

"He's family."

That seemed to settle the matter.

The morning gradually became afternoon.

Food was shared.

Christmas wishes were repeated.

People talked about old memories, recent events and ordinary things that had nothing to do with football.

That was what Francesco enjoyed most.

Nobody was asking him about trophies.

Nobody wanted to discuss the Ballon d'Or.

Nobody cared about his latest goal.

For a few hours, he was simply Francesco.

Their son.

Their brother.

Leah's partner.

The man sitting at home on Christmas Day.

Eventually, the television was turned on.

The Premier League was showing Manchester City against Manchester United.

The four men in the room which is Mike, David, Jacob and Francesco are became noticeably more interested.

Leah noticed.

"Oh no."

Francesco looked at her.

"What?"

"Football."

Mike laughed.

"It is Christmas."

"And?"

David gestured toward the television.

"It's City and United."

Jacob sat forward.

"We should watch this."

Leah looked at Francesco.

"You agree?"

Francesco smiled.

"It's still Christmas."

She shook her head.

"I knew you'd say that."

The match began.

For the next couple of hours, the four men followed it closely, occasionally commenting while the rest of the family continued talking around them.

Manchester City were in strong form.

That was obvious from the beginning.

They moved the ball quickly and confidently, attacking with the sort of quality that had kept them firmly in the upper reaches of the table.

For Francesco, the match carried another layer of interest.

City had refused to disappear from the title race.

Week after week, they had remained in second place, continuing to chase Arsenal.

They had not allowed the gap to become psychologically comfortable.

Every Arsenal victory seemed to receive a response from Manchester City.

Every dropped point offered them another opportunity.

Mike leaned forward as City built another attack.

"They're still pushing."

Francesco nodded.

"They haven't gone away."

David looked at him.

"That's what you'd want if you were them."

"I know."

Jacob smiled.

"You don't sound worried."

Francesco shrugged.

"It's December. There's a long way to go."

Mike nodded.

"Still, they're good."

"They are."

The discussion remained casual.

Nobody was pretending to be a coach.

They simply watched.

City attacked.

United defended.

The family conversation continued around them.

Sarah occasionally glanced toward the television before returning to her conversation with Amanda.

Leah passed behind the sofa carrying plates.

She looked at the screen.

"Who's winning?"

"Still level," Francesco answered.

"Good."

She continued walking.

Jacob laughed.

"She doesn't care."

"I care," Leah called from the other room.

"You just don't care who wins."

"That too."

The first breakthrough eventually came from Manchester City.

David Silva found the net.

Mike reacted immediately.

"There it is."

Francesco nodded.

"Good finish."

City had the lead.

Manchester United tried to respond.

Anthony Martial eventually found an equalizer, bringing the match back level.

The room reacted differently.

Jacob leaned back.

"Okay. That's more interesting."

David nodded.

"They won't let City have it easily."

Francesco watched carefully.

He was not emotionally involved in the result.

That was perhaps what made it easier to appreciate the football itself.

He could see why City had remained close.

Their movement was sharp.

Their players continued making intelligent runs even when United attempted to disrupt their rhythm.

Mike looked at Francesco.

"You still think Arsenal have another gear?"

Francesco smiled.

"We'll see."

"You have to say that."

"I don't have to say anything."

Jacob laughed.

"He's avoiding the question."

Francesco pointed toward the television.

"Watch the match."

The game continued.

Manchester City eventually restored their advantage through Sergio Agüero.

The room responded again.

Mike nodded slowly.

"That's the difference."

David watched United attempt to respond.

"They've got time."

Francesco remained relaxed.

"They'll keep attacking."

They did.

But City continued finding openings.

Eventually, İlkay Gündoğan completed Manchester City's scoring.

3–1.

The final stages were played with increasing urgency from Manchester United, but City defended their advantage.

When the referee finally blew the whistle, the score remained unchanged.

Manchester City 3–1 Manchester United.

Jacob leaned back.

"Well."

Mike nodded.

"They're still coming."

David looked toward Francesco.

"That makes the league interesting."

Francesco kept his eyes on the television for another few seconds before smiling.

"It does."

There was no frustration in his voice.

He had not played.

Arsenal had not lost.

It was simply information.

Another result.

Another reminder that Manchester City remained committed to the chase.

Mike looked at the final score.

"They've got quality."

Francesco nodded.

"They do."

"And they don't seem to be giving up."

"They won't."

Jacob grinned.

"So Arsenal have to keep winning."

Francesco looked at him.

"That's usually how football works."

Jacob laughed.

"Fair enough."

The conversation slowly moved away from football.

Sarah began asking whether everyone wanted dessert.

Amanda started helping clear some plates.

Leah returned to the room and looked at the group.

"Finished?"

Mike nodded.

"City won."

"I gathered that."

David smiled.

"Three-one."

Leah looked toward Francesco.

"Happy?"

Francesco shrugged.

"It's Christmas."

She smiled.

"Exactly."

The television remained on in the background, but nobody was watching it as closely anymore.

The football had provided something to talk about, especially for the four men who had followed Manchester City's performance with genuine interest, but the day was about much more than the league table.

Food remained on the table.

Cups were scattered around the room.

Christmas decorations filled the spaces around them.

The tree stood behind the seating area, still carrying the same ornaments Francesco and Leah had arranged the previous day.

Cheddar wandered between the guests before eventually settling down near the sofa.

Sarah reached down and scratched behind his ears.

He immediately relaxed.

Jacob looked at him.

"Convenient."

"He knows where the attention is," Leah said.

Francesco smiled.

"He's learned."

The afternoon gradually softened into evening.

Nobody seemed eager to leave.

Conversations drifted from one subject to another.

There were stories from years earlier.

Small family jokes.

Plans for the coming days.

Memories that made everyone laugh.

Francesco sat beside Leah, listening more than speaking.

Every now and then he looked around the room.

His parents were there.

Leah's parents were there.

Jacob was there.

Leah was beside him.

Cheddar was resting nearby.

The Christmas tree remained illuminated in the background.

It was an ordinary family gathering in many ways.

And perhaps that was precisely why Francesco appreciated it so much.

His life was rarely ordinary.

Football had taken him around the world.

He had played in enormous stadiums, lifted trophies in front of tens of thousands of supporters and stood beneath the brightest lights the sport could offer.

But none of those moments could replace this.

A table filled with family.

A house full of conversation.

Christmas decorations around the room.

People laughing without caring about the next fixture.

For one entire day, there had been no need to rush anywhere.

No suitcase waiting by the door.

No team transport.

No training session.

No match.

Just home.

Francesco leaned back into the sofa and looked toward Leah.

She noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're staring."

He smiled.

"Just enjoying it."

Leah understood immediately.

She rested her head lightly against his shoulder.

Across the room, Mike and David had started another conversation.

Jacob was telling Sarah something that had apparently happened earlier.

Amanda was laughing.

Cheddar stood up, stretched, and wandered slowly across the room before settling somewhere closer to the Christmas tree.

The house remained alive with quiet conversation.

Outside, Christmas evening had settled over Richmond.

Inside, the lights from the tree reflected softly across the room.

Manchester City's 3–1 victory over Manchester United remained another piece of football news in the background, another reminder that the league leaders were being pursued and that the season still had a long road ahead.

But tonight, Francesco did not need to think about that road.

Tomorrow would bring football again soon enough.

For now, he had Leah beside him, both families gathered under the same roof, and a Christmas Day that had unfolded without the usual demands of his extraordinary career.

__________________________________________________

Name : Francesco Lee

Age : 20 (2018)

Birthplace : London, England

Football Club : Arsenal First Team

Championship History : 2014/2015 Premier League, 2014/2015 FA Cup, 2015/2016 Community Shield, 2016/2017 Premier League, 2015/2016 Champions League, Euro 2016, Premier League Champion 2016/2017, FA Cup 2016/2017, 2016/2017 Champions League, 2017/2018 Carabao Cup, Premier League 2017/2018, FA Cup 2017/2018, Champions League 2017/2018, 2018 World Cup, and 2018/2019 Community Shield.

Season 17/18 stats:

Arsenal:

Match: 25

Goal: 28

Assist: 1

MOTM: 0

POTM: 0

England:

Match: 2

Goal: 2

Assist: 0

MOTM: 0

Season 17/18 stats:

Arsenal:

Match: 59

Goal: 76

Assist: 6

MOTM: 7

POTM: 0

England:

Match: 11

Goal: 14

Assist: 1

MOTM: 7

Season 16/17 stats:

Arsenal:

Match: 55

Goal: 87

Assist: 5

MOTM: 14

POTM: 1

England:

Match: 1

Goal: 1

Assist: 0

MOTM: 0

Season 15/16 stats:

Arsenal:

Match Played: 60

Goal: 82

Assist: 10

MOTM: 9

POTM: 1

England:

Match Played: 2

Goal: 4

Assist: 0

Euro 2016

Match Played: 6

Goal: 13

Assist: 4

MOTM: 6

Season 14/15 stats:

Match Played: 35

Goal: 45

Assist: 12

MOTM: 9