The King Of Arsenal

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And somewhere ahead of them, beyond the football, beyond the celebrations, beyond the noise, a holiday in Santorini was beginning to take shape.

Then the following morning arrived with a different kind of excitement.

There was no match to prepare for.

No training session.

No press conference.

No parade.

No trophy ceremony.

Just a holiday.

And somehow, that felt almost as exciting.

Francesco woke earlier than he expected.

For a few seconds, he simply lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to remember what day it was.

Then he remembered.

Santorini.

He turned his head.

Leah was still asleep beside him.

A small smile appeared on Francesco's face.

He quietly slipped out of bed and headed downstairs.

Cheddar was already waiting.

The corgi sat near the kitchen, looking at Francesco with an expression that suggested breakfast was considerably more important than any international holiday.

Francesco stopped.

"You're awake already?"

Cheddar's tail moved.

"Of course you are."

He scratched the dog behind the ears.

"Big day."

Cheddar stared at him.

"You don't know what that means, do you?"

Another stare.

Francesco laughed.

"Never mind."

By the time Leah came downstairs, breakfast was already being prepared.

The morning was relaxed, but there was a definite sense that something was happening.

Suitcases stood open upstairs.

Clothes had been selected.

Passports had been checked.

Chargers had been packed.

Toiletries had been packed.

Sunglasses.

Shoes.

Beach clothes.

Everything they thought they might need for several days in Greece had gradually found its way into their luggage.

Francesco walked into the kitchen carrying a small bag.

Leah looked at him.

"Is that everything?"

"I think so."

"You think?"

Francesco nodded.

"That's the best answer I can give you."

Leah laughed.

"You're terrible at packing."

"I've packed plenty of times."

"You're a footballer. Someone usually packs for you."

Francesco considered that.

"That's probably fair."

Leah smiled.

"Well, now you have me."

"Even better."

Breakfast passed quickly.

They talked about their flight.

The resort.

The weather.

What they might do when they arrived.

Neither had planned every minute of the trip.

That was deliberate.

After months of schedules controlling nearly every part of their lives, they wanted freedom.

If they wanted to spend an entire afternoon doing nothing, they could.

If they wanted to explore the island, they would.

If they wanted to sit somewhere overlooking the sea until sunset, there was nothing stopping them.

But there was one thing they needed to do before leaving.

Cheddar.

Francesco crouched beside the corgi while Leah finished gathering the last few things.

"You're staying with Mum and Dad."

Cheddar tilted his head.

Francesco smiled.

"Don't look at me like that."

Cheddar's ears lifted.

"You're going to have a great time."

The corgi stared at him.

"My parents spoil you."

Cheddar's tail immediately began wagging.

Francesco laughed.

"Exactly."

Leah appeared with the final suitcase.

"He knows he's going somewhere nice."

"He's smarter than he looks."

"I heard that."

Francesco looked at her.

"You weren't supposed to."

She laughed.

A luxury taxi was waiting outside when they finally carried the luggage downstairs.

The driver stepped forward to help.

Francesco thanked him before loading the bags.

Then came the moment neither he nor Leah was particularly looking forward to.

Saying goodbye to Cheddar.

Francesco knelt down.

The corgi immediately walked over and pressed against him.

"Come here."

He wrapped his arms around him.

"You be good."

Cheddar licked his face.

Francesco laughed.

"All right. That's enough."

Leah crouched beside them.

"We'll see you soon."

Cheddar looked between them.

Francesco scratched his ears one final time.

"Mum and Dad will look after you."

His expression softened.

"I'll miss you, mate."

He gave Cheddar another hug.

Then he stood.

The dog remained beside his legs.

Francesco looked toward his parents, who had come outside to see them off.

"Take care of him."

His father smiled.

"You know he runs this house."

"I know."

His mother laughed.

"He'll be perfectly fine."

Francesco nodded.

"I know."

He looked down at Cheddar again.

"See you soon."

The corgi watched as Francesco and Leah climbed into the taxi.

Francesco waved through the window.

Cheddar remained standing beside his parents.

The taxi pulled away.

Francesco kept looking back until the house disappeared from view.

Leah reached over and took his hand.

"He'll be fine."

"I know."

"You're still going to miss him."

"Definitely."

She smiled.

"You can call your parents."

"I'm sure I'll get a photograph of him sleeping within an hour."

Leah laughed.

"Probably."

The taxi continued toward the airport.

For the first time since winning the World Cup, Francesco felt genuinely disconnected from football.

There was no England schedule.

No Arsenal meeting.

No journalists waiting outside.

No television cameras.

Just the road ahead and a holiday waiting at the other end.

Eventually they arrived at the private aviation terminal.

The atmosphere was noticeably quieter than the main airport.

There were no crowds.

No long queues.

No constant announcements.

Their luggage was taken from the taxi almost immediately.

Francesco and Leah walked through the terminal together.

A member of the flight crew greeted them.

"Good morning."

"Morning," Francesco replied.

"Your aircraft is ready."

Leah smiled.

"Thank you."

They were escorted outside.

The aircraft waited on the tarmac.

Francesco looked at it for a moment.

"That's ours."

Leah smiled.

"Looks comfortable."

"I think we'll survive."

She laughed.

They climbed aboard.

The cabin was spacious and quiet, with comfortable seats, soft lighting and enough room for them to stretch out.

Their bags were stored away.

The crew made sure everything was ready.

Then the doors closed.

Francesco settled into his seat.

Leah sat beside him.

For several seconds, neither said anything.

The engines began to come alive.

Francesco looked through the window.

The airport slowly began moving past them.

Leah reached for his hand.

"Ready?"

Francesco smiled.

"Very."

The aircraft began its takeoff roll.

The engines grew louder.

The runway disappeared beneath them.

Then they lifted.

London gradually became smaller below.

Francesco watched the landscape through the window.

The aircraft climbed higher.

And for the first time in weeks, there was no destination connected to football.

They were simply going somewhere beautiful.

The flight to Santorini would take approximately three hours and forty-five minutes.

It passed surprisingly quickly.

They talked.

They laughed.

They watched films.

They ate.

At one point, Francesco stretched out comfortably and closed his eyes.

Leah looked at him.

"Already tired?"

"A little."

"You've been celebrating for days."

"I know."

She smiled.

"You needed this."

Francesco opened his eyes.

"Yeah."

He looked around the quiet cabin.

"No football."

"No football."

"No interviews."

"No interviews."

"No crowds."

"No crowds."

Francesco smiled.

"This might be the best idea we've ever had."

Leah laughed.

"I thought so."

As the flight continued, they began talking about what they wanted to do in Santorini.

They considered beaches.

Restaurants.

Boat trips.

Walking through the villages.

Watching the sunset.

But they also agreed that they didn't need to force anything.

They had three weeks before football returned.

There was plenty of time.

Outside the window, the landscape gradually changed.

The familiar European mainland gave way to brighter skies and a vast blue horizon.

Eventually, Greece appeared below them.

Leah leaned toward the window.

"I think that's it."

Francesco looked.

The sea stretched endlessly beneath them.

Then the unmistakable shape of the island appeared.

Santorini.

White buildings clung to the hillsides.

Dark volcanic rock surrounded the coastline.

The sunlight seemed brighter.

The whole island looked almost unreal from above.

Francesco smiled.

"We actually made it."

Leah looked at him.

"Told you it would be worth it."

The aircraft began its descent.

A short while later, the wheels touched the runway.

Santorini.

They had arrived.

After leaving the aircraft, Francesco and Leah entered the airport terminal and made their way toward the luxury taxi booth.

A driver was already waiting to assist them.

Their luggage was collected.

The bags were loaded into the vehicle.

Francesco and Leah climbed into the back.

The doors closed.

The air conditioning immediately offered relief from the warm Mediterranean air.

The taxi pulled away.

For the first few minutes, neither spoke.

They were both looking through the windows.

Santorini looked exactly like the photographs.

And somehow, better.

The landscape was rugged.

The roads twisted through dry hills and volcanic terrain.

White buildings appeared between stretches of rock.

The sea could be seen in the distance, bright blue beneath the afternoon sun.

Every turn seemed to reveal something different.

Leah rested her head against the window.

"It's beautiful."

Francesco nodded.

"Yeah."

The island felt completely different from London.

There was no rush.

No noise from supporters.

No reporters.

No stadiums.

No football.

Just sunshine, sea and winding roads.

Francesco looked toward Leah.

"I think we made the right choice."

She smiled.

"I told you."

The taxi continued along the island.

Eventually, the driver turned toward their destination.

A sign appeared.

Desiterra Resort.

Francesco looked through the window.

The resort came into view.

It was elegant without feeling crowded.

White walls.

Clean lines.

Mediterranean architecture.

Greenery surrounding the buildings.

The whole place seemed designed around privacy and quiet.

The taxi slowed.

Then stopped at the entrance.

Immediately, resort staff approached.

"Welcome to Desiterra."

"Thank you," Francesco replied.

The staff greeted them warmly and began removing their luggage.

Leah stepped out and looked around.

She smiled.

"This is nice."

Francesco looked at the surroundings.

"Very nice."

A member of staff guided them toward reception.

The check-in process was quick and discreet.

Names were confirmed.

Documents were checked.

A few details were explained.

Then the receptionist smiled.

"Mr Lee, your accommodation is the Presidential Villa."

Francesco raised his eyebrows.

"The Presidential Villa?"

"Yes."

Leah looked at him.

"I think we're going to be comfortable."

Francesco laughed.

"I certainly hope so."

The staff gathered their luggage.

"We'll escort you to the villa."

They followed along the resort paths.

The farther they walked, the quieter everything became.

There were fewer people.

More space.

More privacy.

Then the villa appeared.

Francesco stopped.

For a moment, he simply looked at it.

The Presidential Villa was spacious and beautifully designed, blending into the surrounding landscape.

White walls reflected the sunlight.

Large windows opened toward the view.

Private outdoor space surrounded the accommodation.

And beyond it all was the unmistakable blue of the Aegean.

Leah looked at Francesco.

"Wow."

"Yeah."

The staff opened the door.

"Please, enjoy your stay."

"Thank you," Francesco said.

They carried the luggage inside and left them to settle in.

The door closed behind them.

Silence.

Real silence.

Francesco looked around.

The interior was spacious without feeling cold.

There was a large living area.

Comfortable furniture.

Elegant decorations.

A private bedroom.

A beautiful bathroom.

Everything was bright and peaceful.

Leah walked toward the windows.

Francesco followed.

The view made him stop again.

The Mediterranean stretched beyond the property.

The sunlight reflected off the water.

The breeze moved gently through the outdoor space.

Leah smiled.

"This is perfect."

Francesco stood beside her.

"No arguments from me."

For a few minutes, they simply stood there.

Neither wanted to disturb the moment.

Eventually, reality returned.

Their luggage still needed unpacking.

Francesco laughed.

"All right."

Leah looked at him.

"What?"

"We should probably unpack before we fall asleep."

She laughed.

"Good idea."

They spent the next hour moving between rooms.

Clothes went into wardrobes.

Shoes were placed neatly near the entrance.

Toiletries found their places.

Chargers were plugged in.

Francesco opened one suitcase and stared at the contents.

"I definitely packed too much."

Leah looked over.

"You did."

"I thought we needed options."

"You brought four pairs of trainers."

"You never know."

"For what?"

Francesco thought.

"Walking."

Leah laughed.

"You only need one pair."

"I've got choices."

She shook her head.

"You're impossible."

They continued unpacking.

Eventually, everything was organized.

Francesco changed into comfortable clothes.

Leah did the same.

Then they returned to the living area.

The energy of the journey had finally caught up with them.

Francesco sank into the sofa.

Leah sat beside him.

He exhaled.

"I'm tired."

"Me too."

They looked toward the view.

The sun was beginning to move lower.

Neither felt any desire to go anywhere.

No restaurant.

No excursion.

No sightseeing.

Nothing.

They had plenty of time.

Francesco leaned back.

"I think today should just be this."

Leah nodded.

"Agreed."

"No plans."

"No plans."

"Just rest."

"Definitely."

Francesco smiled.

The quiet was different here.

At home, quiet had meant escaping the madness of the celebrations.

Here, quiet felt like the beginning of something.

A proper holiday.

A few weeks without schedules controlling every hour.

A chance to wake up without knowing exactly what came next.

He looked at Leah.

"Thank you for choosing this place."

She smiled.

"You're welcome."

They sat together for a while.

They talked about the flight.

About Cheddar.

About what his parents were probably doing with him.

Francesco laughed when he imagined the corgi being spoiled with treats.

"He's going to forget us."

"He won't."

"He might."

"He'll remember when you come home."

Francesco smiled.

"Hopefully."

Outside, Santorini remained peaceful.

The sea stretched beyond the villa.

The light slowly softened.

The island carried on around them, but inside their private accommodation, everything had slowed down.

For the first time in weeks, Francesco had absolutely nothing he needed to do.

No trophy to lift.

No microphone to speak into.

No crowd waiting.

No match.

No training.

No responsibility beyond enjoying the people and place around him.

He reached for Leah's hand.

She took it.

Francesco smiled.

"This is nice."

Leah leaned against his shoulder.

"It is."

He looked through the windows toward the sea.

Yesterday, they had been talking about coming here.

Today, they were actually here.

The World Cup still existed.

England were still champions.

His medals were still waiting back in Richmond.

The photographs from Trafalgar Square were still filling his phone.

His name was still being discussed around the world.

But none of that had to follow them into this room.

For tonight, they could leave it all behind.

Francesco rested his head against the sofa.

Leah remained beside him.

The villa grew quieter as evening approached.

Neither of them made any effort to fill the silence.

Then the next day arrived without urgency.

For once, Francesco didn't wake because an alarm was demanding that he get up.

There was no training schedule waiting for him.

No message telling him where he needed to be.

No appointment.

No interview.

Nothing.

He simply opened his eyes when he was ready.

For a few seconds, he remained still beneath the sheets, staring toward the ceiling as the quiet of the Presidential Villa slowly registered.

Then he turned his head.

Leah was awake.

She was lying on her side, looking at him with a sleepy smile.

"Morning."

Francesco smiled.

"Morning."

"How did you sleep?"

He thought about it.

"Really well."

"Me too."

Neither moved immediately.

The room was filled with soft morning light. Beyond the windows, Santorini was already glowing beneath the Mediterranean sun, the pale walls of the villa catching the light and the distant Aegean appearing almost impossibly blue.

Francesco finally sat up.

"I think my body needed that."

Leah laughed softly.

"After the last few weeks?"

"Definitely."

He stretched his arms above his head.

"I'm pretty sure I could sleep another ten hours."

"You probably could."

Francesco looked toward the windows.

"But I don't want to waste the day."

Leah smiled.

"Neither do I."

That was the strange thing about being on holiday.

There was no pressure to do anything, but suddenly everything seemed more enjoyable because they had chosen to do it.

They took their time getting ready.

There was no rushing around the bedroom.

No frantic search for clothes.

No one telling them they had five minutes before they had to leave.

Instead, they opened their suitcases and began deciding what felt right for a day in Santorini.

Leah stood in front of the wardrobe for several minutes, holding different outfits against herself.

Francesco watched from the bed.

"You've been doing that for ten minutes."

Leah looked over.

"I haven't."

"You definitely have."

"I'm deciding."

"About what?"

"What to wear."

Francesco smiled.

"We're walking around a Greek island."

"I know."

"You could wear anything."

"I want to look nice."

"You always look nice."

Leah paused.

She looked at him.

"That was smooth."

Francesco shrugged.

"Just telling the truth."

She smiled before turning back toward the wardrobe.

Eventually, she settled on a stylish summer outfit that was light, comfortable and perfectly suited to the bright surroundings.

Francesco chose something equally relaxed with a clean, fitted shirt, comfortable trousers and shoes suitable for walking through the island's winding streets.

He added sunglasses before looking at himself in the mirror.

Leah stepped out of the bedroom.

Francesco turned.

For a moment, he simply looked at her.

She noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're staring."

"I know."

She smiled.

"You look good."

Francesco grinned.

"So do you."

Leah walked closer.

"Good enough for photographs?"

"Definitely."

She laughed.

"You say that now."

"I'll probably regret saying it later."

"Why?"

"Because I know how many photographs you're going to take."

Leah gave him an innocent look.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Francesco laughed.

"Sure."

They both looked at themselves one more time.

There was something almost amusing about how carefully they had dressed.

Not because they had somewhere important to be.

Not because anyone was expecting them.

Simply because they wanted to enjoy the day.

They wanted photographs.

They wanted memories.

And Santorini seemed like the kind of place where every corner deserved one.

They left the Presidential Villa shortly afterward.

The warm air immediately greeted them.

Francesco slipped his sunglasses on.

Leah looked around.

"I still can't believe we're actually here."

Francesco smiled.

"Me neither."

Their transportation was waiting to take them toward Oia.

As they settled inside, Francesco glanced back toward the resort.

The Presidential Villa disappeared behind them as they began their journey through Santorini.

The roads wound through the island, climbing and descending through the rugged landscape.

White buildings appeared in the distance.

Then disappeared.

The sea seemed to follow them wherever they went, sometimes close enough to see the waves clearly and sometimes stretching far beyond the hills.

Leah kept looking through the window.

"Look at that."

Francesco followed her gaze.

"Wow."

Another view appeared.

Then another.

He laughed.

"We're going to stop every thirty seconds, aren't we?"

"Probably."

"You're going to take a photograph every time."

"Definitely."

Francesco shook his head.

"I knew this would happen."

Leah smiled.

"You agreed to Santorini."

"I did."

"So you can't complain."

"I'm not complaining."

"You sound like you are."

"I'm preparing myself."

She laughed.

The closer they came to Oia, the more dramatic the scenery became.

Eventually, the village began appearing ahead of them.

Oia.

One of Santorini's most famous places.

Francesco had seen photographs before.

Everyone had.

But seeing it in person was different.

The whitewashed buildings seemed to climb naturally along the hillside, broken by blue accents, small terraces and splashes of flowers.

The narrow pathways curved between buildings.

Small shops opened onto the streets.

Cafés and restaurants overlooked the sea.

Everywhere they looked, there seemed to be another perfect view.

Francesco stepped out and immediately looked around.

"Okay."

Leah smiled.

"What?"

"This is ridiculous."

She laughed.

"In a good way?"

"In a very good way."

They began walking.

There was no itinerary.

No list of places they had to visit by a certain time.

They simply wandered.

Sometimes they followed the main pathway.

Sometimes they turned down a smaller lane because something caught their attention.

A flower-covered wall.

A little shop.

A beautiful doorway.

A terrace overlooking the sea.

Leah stopped constantly.

Francesco quickly realized that their relaxed morning had become a photography expedition.

"Wait."

Leah turned.

"What?"

"Stand there."

"Where?"

"Right there."

Francesco looked behind himself.

"You want me to stand next to that wall?"

"Yes."

He laughed.

"Why?"

"Because the light is perfect."

Francesco shook his head but moved into position.

Leah raised her phone.

"Smile."

"I am smiling."

"You look serious."

"I'm concentrating."

"On what?"

"Not falling off the edge."

Leah burst out laughing.

"Just smile."

Francesco smiled properly.

The camera clicked.

"Got it."

She looked at the photograph.

"That's really good."

Francesco walked over.

"Let me see."

She showed him.

He nodded.

"Okay. I'll admit it."

"What?"

"You were right."

Leah smiled proudly.

"I know."

They continued.

The streets became busier as more visitors appeared, but the atmosphere remained relaxed.

Nobody seemed to be rushing.

People wandered slowly.

Couples stopped for photographs.

Families explored the narrow paths.

The warm breeze carried the smell of food and flowers through the streets.

For Francesco, it felt completely different from London.

There, even walking through a public place could become an event.

Here, for the moment, he could simply disappear into the holiday crowd.

At least until someone recognized him.

But even that didn't seem to matter.

Today was about enjoying the place.

Eventually, they reached one of the most recognizable sights in Oia.

The Blue Dome Churches.

Francesco stopped.

The famous blue domes stood against the white buildings and the brilliant sky, creating exactly the kind of scene he had seen in photographs.

Except this time, it was real.

Leah's eyes immediately widened.

"Oh my God."

Francesco laughed.

"You like it?"

"I love it."

She immediately reached for her phone.

"I knew you would."

"Stand there."

Francesco sighed dramatically.

"Already?"

"Yes."

He moved beside her.

Leah took a photograph.

Then another.

"Turn slightly."

Francesco turned.

"Like that?"

"Yes."

Click.

"Now look over there."

He looked toward the sea.

Click.

"Now smile."

Click.

Francesco laughed.

"How many do you need?"

"More."

"More?"

"Yes."

"You've already taken about twenty."

"They're different."

"They're all me standing in the same place."

"They're not."

Francesco shook his head.

"All right."

He smiled again.

Leah took another photograph.

Then he reached for her phone.

"Give me that."

"What?"

"Your turn."

She handed it over.

Francesco stepped back.

"Go over there."

Leah smiled.

"Here?"

"Yeah."

She stood beneath the bright Santorini light.

Francesco framed the shot carefully.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

He took the photograph.

Then another.

"That's actually good."

Leah walked over.

"Let me see."

She looked.

Her smile widened.

"I love it."

Francesco handed the phone back.

"See? I'm useful."

"You are."

They took photographs together as well.

Standing beside each other.

Arms around one another.

Smiling beneath the blue domes.

The World Cup captain and the footballer beside him seemed very far away.

There was no trophy.

No medal.

No football shirt.

No stadium.

Just Francesco and Leah.

Two people on holiday.

That was exactly what they wanted.

They eventually continued toward Sunset Point.

The walk itself became part of the experience.

Every few minutes, one of them would stop.

Sometimes Leah wanted a photograph.

Sometimes Francesco saw something worth capturing.

Sometimes they simply stood quietly and looked.

When they reached the viewpoint, they both fell silent.

The panorama stretched across the Aegean.

The water was brilliant blue beneath the sun.

The cliffs dropped dramatically toward the coastline.

White buildings seemed almost suspended above the volcanic landscape.

Francesco slowly looked from one side to the other.

"That's incredible."

Leah nodded.

"Yeah."

They stood close together.

For once, neither immediately reached for a camera.

They simply watched.

After a while, Leah smiled.

"Okay."

Francesco glanced at her.

"Photographs?"

"Photographs."

He laughed.

"I knew it."

She took several pictures of the scenery.

Then she turned the camera toward him.

"Stand there."

"Of course."

He posed.

She took another.

Then they switched.

Francesco photographed Leah with the sea behind her.

She smiled as she looked at the result.

"You're getting better."

"I've had a good teacher."

"Me?"

"Who else?"

She laughed.

They continued exploring Oia, gradually making their way farther through the village.

Eventually, their path led them toward Amoudi Bay.

The change in scenery was striking.

From the elevated streets of Oia, they could see the coastline far below.

The cliffs seemed even more dramatic from above.

The sea stretched around the island, sparkling beneath the sunlight.

Leah stopped again.

"Look."

Francesco looked down.

"Wow."

He smiled.

"I'm starting to run out of words."

"So am I."

They took more photographs.

The coastline.

The cliffs.

The village above them.

Each other.

Sometimes they didn't even bother posing.

Leah would capture Francesco looking out toward the water.

Francesco would photograph her walking ahead.

They took photographs of each other laughing.

Walking.

Looking at the scenery.

Simply being together.

There was no reason to rush.

No appointment waiting.

No driver calling to tell them they were late.

Nothing.

They could stop whenever they wanted.

Walk whenever they wanted.

Sit whenever they wanted.

It was a freedom Francesco had almost forgotten existed.

Eventually, they realized how hungry they had become.

Francesco glanced at his watch.

"Lunch?"

Leah nodded.

"Definitely."

They wandered until they found a charming café tucked into the village.

It had a relaxed atmosphere, with tables arranged beneath the warm sunlight and views that made it difficult to believe they were actually sitting there.

Leah looked around.

"This one?"

Francesco smiled.

"Looks good."

They found a table and sat down.

Before the food arrived, Leah immediately lifted her phone.

Francesco saw it.

He laughed.

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"You've been taking photographs all morning."

"And?"

"And now you're going to photograph lunch."

"Obviously."

Francesco leaned back.

"All right."

Leah looked at him.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You're not going to complain?"

"I've accepted my fate."

She laughed.

"You're very dramatic."

"Take as many as you want."

Leah smiled.

"Thank you."

The photographs began.

First, the café.

Then the view.

Then the table.

Then Francesco.

"Smile."

He smiled.

"Again."

He changed his expression.

"Like that?"

"Yes."

Click.

Then Leah took a photograph of herself.

Then another of the two of them together.

Francesco watched.

"You've taken more photographs today than I've taken in my entire life."

"That isn't true."

"It feels true."

She laughed.

"You're just jealous because I'm documenting everything."

"I think you're documenting every single thing."

"That's the point."

Francesco smiled.

"Fair enough."

Their food eventually arrived.

Leah immediately looked at it.

"Oh, that looks good."

Francesco nodded.

"It does."

She reached for her phone again.

Francesco started laughing.

"You haven't even let me eat."

"I need one photograph."

"One?"

"Maybe two."

"You said that before."

She laughed and took several photographs of the food.

Then she photographed Francesco's plate.

Then her own.

Then the two of them sitting together.

Finally, she lowered the phone.

"Done."

"For now."

"For now."

Francesco shook his head.

"You're enjoying this way too much."

"I am."

They finally began eating.

For a while, conversation became quieter.

They were hungry.

And the food was good.

The warm Mediterranean air moved gently around them.

People passed along the nearby streets.

Voices mixed with the occasional sound of laughter.

Somewhere farther away, the sea moved against the rocks.

Francesco looked across the table at Leah.

"This place is beautiful."

She nodded.

"I know."

"I mean it."

"I know."

He smiled.

"I'm glad you chose it."

Leah reached across the table and touched his hand.

"Me too."

They continued eating.

The conversation gradually returned.

They talked about their morning.

The Blue Domes.

The views.

The photographs.

Amoudi Bay.

Cheddar.

Francesco's parents.

They wondered what the corgi was doing at that exact moment.

"Probably eating," Francesco said.

Leah laughed.

"Definitely."

"Or sleeping."

"After breakfast, probably both."

Francesco smiled.

He knew his parents would take care of him.

That made leaving Cheddar easier.

And now that they were here, he could finally relax without worrying.

Leah looked at him.

"You know what I like most?"

"What?"

"That nobody's asking us what happens next."

Francesco smiled.

"Yeah."

"No football questions."

"No football questions."

"No Arsenal questions."

"No Arsenal questions."

"No England questions."

"No England questions."

She smiled.

"Just us."

Francesco squeezed her hand.

"Exactly."

They had spent so long being surrounded by expectations that the absence of them felt almost luxurious.

Back in England, the World Cup victory would continue to be discussed.

People would continue talking about his goals.

His awards.

His captaincy.

The fifty-two-year wait.

Arsenal would eventually call him back.

England would eventually gather again.

The next season would eventually begin.

But not today.

Today, he was sitting in a café in Oia with Leah.

There was sunlight on the table.

The Aegean beyond them.

A plate of food in front of him.

And no reason whatsoever to hurry.

Leah smiled at him.

"What are you thinking?"

Francesco looked out toward the sea.

"That I could get used to this."

She smiled.

"Good."

He looked back at her.

"We've got three weeks."

"Exactly."

"And we're going to enjoy them."

"We are."

Francesco took another bite of his meal.

Leah picked up her drink.

They continued talking as the afternoon slowly began to settle over Oia.

The village remained alive around them.

People wandered through the narrow streets.

Cameras continued clicking.

The sun remained high over the Aegean.

And somewhere among the white buildings and blue domes, two young footballers were simply enjoying being together.

No competition.

No pressure.

No microphones.

No cameras pointed at them for the world to see.

Just the occasional photograph they chose to take themselves.

A quiet lunch.

A beautiful island.

And the first real day of their holiday still stretching out ahead of them.

__________________________________________________

Name : Francesco Lee

Age : 19 (2017)

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, and 2018 World Cup.

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