Chapter 103: A Decision Made.

"Why do they keep sending these back?" a voice rang out, a bit agitated, in an empty space.

Dawson was hunched over his desk, glasses low on his nose, a stack of reports spread in front of him, when the knock came on his door.

"How does Nolan feel comfortable with these?" he muttered, taking off the glasses.

He didn’t even glance up at first, just muttered a distracted "Come in," as he continued to scribble a few notes on a training sheet.

When he finally looked up, Leo was standing in the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, the faintest trace of hesitation in his posture.

Dawson blinked, then raised an eyebrow, straightening in his chair.

"Well, well," he said, setting his pen down.

"Leo," he continued, glancing at his watch, before looking back up at the kid.

"Back already? Thought you said you were heading to Manchester today."

Leo stepped in, shutting the door gently behind him before sitting down opposite Dawson’s desk.

"Didn’t go," he said after a beat. "Not yet, at least."

Dawson exhaled, the kind of long, quiet sigh that came from knowing exactly where the conversation was headed.

He leaned back in his chair, arms folding across his chest.

"Right," he said, his tone soft but knowing.

"So I take it you’ve made a decision? Or at least have something on your mind."

Leo nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I’ve decided."

He paused, gathering the right words. "I’m going to take the call-up. For Italy’s U21S."

Dawson’s expression didn’t change right away, but a small, almost proud smile tugged at his mouth as Leo continued.

"It’s just..." Leo rubbed his palms together.

"That’s a much higher level of competition. The England U18 setup is fine, but—" he hesitated, trying not to sound arrogant, " after playing senior football, going back down to that level doesn’t really make sense. I’ve had a taste of what it’s like, and I don’t want to lose that edge by dropping too far down the ladder."

Dawson nodded slowly, the smile on his face growing a touch wider.

"I figured you’d say that," he said, his tone warm but teasing. "Knew you’d go for the call-up. And I knew it’d be Italy."

Leo’s brow furrowed, a small grin forming. "Yeah? How’d you figure that one out?"

Dawson shrugged, a light glint in his eyes.

"Just a hunch," he said, leaning back again.

"You’ve got that kind of instinct to never go away from something good after tasting it. The one who wants to climb higher, not settle for. Italy haven’t had the best years recently, but playing for their youth teams will help you. And since you won’t get capped for them, you can just switch if you feel unappreciated or undervalued or even if you feel like it isn’t the right fit for you."

For a few seconds, the office was quiet, the faint hum of the computer fan filling the air.

Then Dawson’s expression shifted slightly, the warmth giving way to something more serious.

"You do realise, though," he began, standing up, "you’re right on the edge of breaking into the first team properly. Going away now, even for something like this, means your spot here might not be guaranteed when you get back."

He paced behind his chair for a moment before stopping, his tone firm but not discouraging.

"Football doesn’t wait around for anyone. Not even for the kid everyone’s been buzzing about recently."

Leo looked down for a moment, the weight of that truth settling in. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I figured that."

Then Dawson’s serious look softened again.

He walked around the desk, resting a hand briefly on Leo’s shoulder.

"But," he said with a small smile, "I’ve got a feeling you’ll come back a better player. Sharper. Maybe even ready to slot straight in when you return."

Leo met his eyes, nodding at the former’s words as Dawson smirked, stepping back.

"Personally, I think you could play for Italy’s senior team right now and still hold your own."

Leo blinked at him, caught off guard, a lopsided grin forming.

"That’s... a bit much, isn’t it?"

Dawson chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Hey, don’t look at me like that. You’ll see."

He returned to his chair, dropping back into it with a creak.

"Anyway, you’ll have to fly out in three days. I’ll have Nolan sort all the logistics."

Leo nodded, standing up. "Alright."

"Oh, and Leo," Dawson said, glancing up again, one corner of his mouth twitching into a grin, "get yourself an agent soon, yeah? Otherwise, Nolan might start taking a cut every time you play."

Leo laughed. "Yeah, I’ll get on that."

He took a step toward the door, pausing briefly to look back.

"Thanks, gaffer."

Dawson gave a small nod, already picking up his pen again. "Go on then. Get some rest. Big few days ahead."

Leo smiled faintly, opening the door. "See you tomorrow."

As the door closed behind him, Dawson leaned back once more, tapping his pen lightly against the desk, that small, knowing smile still lingering on his face.

"Senior team, huh?" he muttered under his breath, amused at his own words from moments ago. "Wouldn’t even surprise me."

He shook his head, chuckling softly before turning back to his paperwork, the sound of Leo’s fading footsteps echoing faintly down the corridor.

....

Leo knocked on the apartment door, a small bag swung around his shoulder, as a voice called from the inside.

"Coming"

before the door swung open, revealing Mia, who immediately lit up at the sight of him.

"Leo!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck before he could even say a word.

He nearly lost balance but steadied himself with a laugh.

"Hey, easy there," he said, chuckling as she finally let go.

"You didn’t even text that you were coming!" she said, tugging him by the wrist and pulling him inside before he could respond.

From the kitchen, Sofia turned at the sound of the commotion, a few grocery items still in her hands.

"Well, look who finally remembered we exist," she said with a teasing smile, sliding the milk carton into the fridge.

"Hi, Aunt Sofia," Leo greeted, grinning as he set his bag down by the door.

"Didn’t want to give you time to lock me out."

"Oh, I’d have let you in," she replied, closing the fridge with her hip.

"Eventually."

Mia giggled, plopping down onto the couch with her phone in hand.

"You missed so much," she said, tapping her screen rapidly before shoving it into Leo’s face.

"Look, that’s when we went to the arcade. And this was at Luna’s birthday. And that’s when Ryan....,"

Leo smiled faintly, nodding every few seconds as the stream of pictures continued.

He murmured small responses, "Nice," "Looks fun," "Wow, that’s a lot of cake", but his eyes glazed over somewhere between photo seven and twelve.

The sound of Mia’s voice faded into a blur as his mind drifted to the things still weighing somewhere in the back of his thoughts.

"Food’s ready!" Sofia’s voice snapped him back to the present.

She appeared from the kitchen with a pot in her hands, steam rising in little swirls from the lid.

"Chicken stew with rice. Nothing fancy, but it’ll do."

"Smells perfect," Leo said, his stomach growling as if on cue.

"You two eating now or later?" Sofia asked, glancing at Mia and Leo.

"Now!" they both answered in unison, jumping off the couch.

"Wash your hands first," Sofia reminded, though they were already halfway inside the kitchen she had just come out of.

The sound of running water and muffled laughter echoed briefly before the two returned, settling at the small kitchen table.

Sofia set the pot down gently and served them each.

She slid a plate in front of Leo, who didn’t wait for an invitation.

"Alright," Mia said, placing her hands together. "Grace."

Sofia smiled softly, bowing her head.

"Thank you for this meal, for the hands that made it, and the company that shares it. Amen."

"Amen," they echoed, before the quiet clatter of spoons and forks filled the room.

Leo wasted no time digging in.

The first bite made him exhale audibly, and he shook his head in mock disbelief.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing, beats home-cooked food," he said through a mouthful, earning a laugh from both Mia and Sofia.

"That’s because you live on sandwiches, pasta and canteen food," Sofia said, sipping from her glass.

"Your taste buds are desperate for real cooking."

"Exactly," Leo replied, already scooping up another spoonful. "This is divine."

Mia grinned, flicking a grain of rice at him.

"You sound like a man who hasn’t eaten in days."

"Feels like it," he said, leaning back a little, savouring the warmth of the meal.

As the plates slowly emptied, conversation faded into a comfortable quiet.

Sofia began stacking dishes, humming faintly under her breath as she moved around the table.

Mia reached for her phone again, but Leo leaned forward slightly, clearing his throat.

"Hey," he said, voice calm but deliberate.

Both Sofia and Mia looked up.

"There’s something I need to tell you."