Chapter 69 :

By the time they returned to their hotel, it was already 8 PM. The adrenaline from the racing track still lingered, but the exhaustion of the day was finally settling in.

Ananya flopped onto the bed, letting out a deep breath. "I can't believe you did that. I had a whole museum planned, and you took me to a racetrack instead."

Advay smirked, tossing his jacket onto a chair. "Did you have fun?"

She turned her head toward him, pretending to think. "…Maybe."

He chuckled. "Then I don't see the problem."

Rolling her eyes, she got up. "I need a shower after all that wind blasting in my face."

"Same," he said, stretching his arms.

After freshening up, both in comfortable clothes—Advay in a black t-shirt and track pants, Ananya in an oversized sweatshirt and shorts—they settled onto the couch, scrolling through the room service menu.

Ananya held the tablet. "Okay, we're getting pasta, garlic bread, and—"

"Grilled chicken," Advay added.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course. Mr. Athlete can't go one day without protein."

He smirked. "I have a reputation to maintain."

After placing the order, they flipped through the TV channels before settling on a movie—a Bollywood rom-com from the early 2010s.

"You've seen this before?" Ananya asked as she grabbed a forkful of pasta.

"No," Advay replied, stretching his legs out on the coffee table.

"Then watch properly. It's a classic."

"Sure," he said, but he was already half-focused on his phone, checking match schedules.

Ananya noticed and snatched the phone from his hands.

"Hey."

"No cricket tonight," she said, placing it far away. "Just eat and watch."

Advay sighed but let it go. As the movie played, they ate, laughed at the cheesy dialogues, and made sarcastic comments about the overdramatic scenes.

By the time the credits rolled, it was 11 PM. Ananya stretched, yawning. "Okay, this was fun."

Advay leaned back against the couch. "Not bad. A little unrealistic, though."

She smirked. "Says the guy who just drove a Ferrari at full speed on a private track today."

He chuckled. "Fair point."

As the TV screen went black, the only light in the room came from the faint glow of the city skyline outside. The air around them felt different—heavy, charged with something unspoken. Neither of them moved at first, but the usual banter and laughter had faded into silence.

Their eyes met.

Ananya parted her lips slightly as if about to say something, but before she could, Advay leaned in and kissed her.

It wasn't rushed, wasn't hesitant—just a natural pull, a moment that had been waiting to happen.

She eased into him, her hands finding their way to his neck as he pulled her closer. The warmth between them deepened, slow at first, then more urgent.

Their breaths mixed, hands exploring, fingers tracing over fabric. The tension melted into something else entirely.

Little by little, clothes fell away, lost in the quiet passion between them.

Neither of them spoke, but their bodies did, moving with a rhythm that needed no words. The night stretched on, the city lights flickering beyond the window, but for them, there was only this moment.

The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. The city outside was already awake, but inside, everything was calm, quiet, and peaceful.

Advay stirred first, blinking his eyes open, his body still relaxed. As he shifted slightly, he realized something—Ananya was still in his arms, her head resting against his chest, their bodies wrapped in warmth.

A few moments later, she slowly woke up, her eyelashes fluttering before her sleepy eyes met his.

For a second, neither of them said anything. Just staring, just feeling.

Ananya shifted slightly, realizing their closeness, but instead of moving away, she just smiled softly.

Advay, still half-awake, tightened his arms around her just a little, his fingers brushing against her back.

"Morning," she murmured, her voice still drowsy.

He smirked slightly, his voice lower than usual. "Morning."

The rest of their London trip went by in a blur, filled with new places, unexpected adventures, and moments neither of them would forget.

They visited Tower Bridge, standing at its glass walkway, looking down at the River Thames beneath them. Ananya, excited as ever, took pictures while Advay stood beside her, arms crossed, just taking in the view.

At The British Museum, Ananya was fascinated by the Egyptian mummies and ancient artifacts, but Advay? He wasn't as interested. "I could've just Googled all this," he muttered, making her roll her eyes.

They walked through the streets of Oxford, exploring the historic university town, where Ananya insisted on taking a picture in front of The Radcliffe Camera. "Imagine if you went to college here," she teased.

Advay smirked. "I don't think they teach cover drives here."

One of the most memorable days was their visit to Old Trafford in Manchester, where Advay got a private tour of Manchester United's stadium. Being a football fan, he actually enjoyed this one, standing in the players' tunnel, imagining walking out to a packed stadium.

At Lake District, they took a boat ride across the serene waters, surrounded by mountains and greenery. Ananya, leaning against the railing, sighed happily. "This place is so peaceful."

Advay nodded, looking at the still water. "Yeah. No cameras, no noise. Just… quiet."

They also stopped by Edinburgh in Scotland, where they explored Edinburgh Castle, walking along the old cobblestone streets. "This city feels straight out of a movie," Ananya said, spinning around dramatically.

Advay chuckled. "Yeah, except the weather keeps switching every five minutes."

The trip was filled with small moments like these—late-night walks in London, trying British food (Ananya loved it, Advay was indifferent), shopping on Oxford Street, and just enjoying each other's company without any distractions.

On the last day of their trip, Advay had planned something special—he had managed to get VIP tickets for the biggest rivalry in English football—Liverpool vs. Manchester United at Anfield.

That morning, as they woke up in their hotel room, Ananya stretched and let out a small yawn. "So, where are we going today?"

Advay, already up and dressed, tossed something toward her. She caught it and unfolded a red Liverpool jersey.

She raised an eyebrow. "Wait… is this—?"

"Yep." He smirked, already wearing his own Liverpool kit, complete with the red jersey and scarf.

Ananya blinked. "You're making me wear a Liverpool jersey? In a stadium filled with crazy football fans?"

"Obviously," he said, rolling his shoulders. "It's Anfield. We support Liverpool today."

She sighed dramatically. "I can't believe you're forcing me into this."

"You'll live."

Grumbling, she pulled on the jersey, adjusting it in front of the mirror. "If I get caught up in a football riot, I'm blaming you."

Advay just chuckled, grabbing his phone. "Hurry up. We have a match to catch."

—

A few hours later, they arrived at Anfield, and the atmosphere was unreal. Thousands of fans filled the streets, chanting, waving scarves, and singing 'You'll Never Walk Alone' at the top of their lungs.

Ananya looked around, slightly overwhelmed. "This is… intense."

Advay, eyes fixed on the stadium, smirked. "This is Anfield."

They made their way inside to their VIP seats, right near the pitch. The players were warming up, and Advay was completely locked in, watching Liverpool's squad move around the field.

The game kicked off, and from the first whistle, the crowd was electric. Every pass, every tackle, every shot sent waves of noise through the stadium.

Liverpool scored first, and Advay jumped up, pumping his fist in the air, joining the sea of cheering fans. Ananya, still adjusting to the football madness, clapped along, laughing at how serious he was about it.

"You're enjoying this way too much," she teased, shaking her head.

"Of course I am," he grinned. "This isn't just football. This is war."

After the match, as Advay and Ananya were making their way out of Anfield, a staff member wearing a Liverpool FC badge approached them with a polite smile.

"Mr. Rai?"

Advay, still adjusting his Liverpool scarf, looked up. "Yeah?"

"The club would like to invite you to the locker room to meet the players."

Advay blinked, taken aback. "Wait… what?"

Ananya, standing beside him, grinned. "Oh, now this is interesting."

Still a bit surprised, Advay nodded, and they followed the staff member through the stadium tunnels. The deeper they went, the more it hit him—this was Anfield's inner sanctum, a place only players and staff usually had access to.

When they finally stepped into the locker room, the first thing that struck him was the sheer number of players who turned to look at him—and recognized him instantly.

Mohamed Salah, sitting with his boots off, grinned. "The man himself!"

Trent Alexander-Arnold nudged Jordan Henderson. "Told you he'd show up."

Even Alisson Becker, the towering goalkeeper, nodded in recognition.

Advay, who had expected to walk in unnoticed, was now the one feeling slightly out of place. Why did they all know him?

Ananya, standing beside him, smirked, whispering under her breath. "Look at you, getting recognized by football royalty."

Before he could even react, Virgil van Dijk—Liverpool's defensive rock—walked up to him, towering over him by a few inches.

"You look surprised," Van Dijk said, offering a handshake.

Advay shook his hand, still not entirely sure what was happening. "I just… wasn't expecting this."

Van Dijk chuckled. "You underestimate yourself, mate."

Advay raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

The Dutch defender smirked. "You think we don't watch cricket? You think we don't know who Advay Rai is?" He gestured around the room. "Almost everyone here has seen your batting clips."

Salah nodded. "That shrug celebration after your hundred? Ice cold, man."

Alexander-Arnold grinned. "Your straight drives? That's footballer-level precision right there."

Advay shook his head with a smirk, still processing the moment.

Van Dijk patted him on the shoulder. "You're bigger than you think, bro. Start getting used to it."

Ananya, watching all of this unfold, simply crossed her arms and smirked. "So, are you finally going to admit that you're famous?"

Advay exhaled, half-smiling. "I'll think about it."

Advay, still taking in the surreal moment, suddenly remembered something. "Wait, can you guys sign a jersey for me?"

The Liverpool players nodded instantly, looking around the locker room for a fresh jersey. One of the staff members checked the shelves, but after a few moments, they came up empty-handed.

Jordan Henderson shrugged. "Looks like we're out of extras right now."

Advay thought for a second before casually pulling his own Liverpool jersey over his head and handing it to them. "It's fine. Just sign this one. I have a spare outfit I bought earlier."

The moment he removed his jersey, the locker room went dead silent.

Several players stared at him, blinking in disbelief.

Alexander-Arnold looked at Virgil van Dijk, then back at Advay. "Wait… what?"

Mo Salah, mid-signature, paused and blurted out, "Bro, are you SURE you're just a cricketer?"

Andy Robertson, laughing, pointed at his stomach. "What are the eight packs and those muscles, man? What is this?"

Even Alisson, usually calm, shook his head. "You play cricket or train like a boxer?"

Advay, slightly confused, looked around. "What?"

Van Dijk chuckled. "Mate, I swear, some of us don't even have abs like that, and we play football."

Salah shook his head. "This guy looks like he belongs on a Champions League team, not a cricket pitch."

The players laughed, and Ananya—who had been standing quietly—was grinning hard, barely holding back her amusement.

She leaned in, whispering, "See? Even footballers think you're overpowered."

Advay just rolled his eyes, smirking slightly as the players started signing his jersey, still shaking their heads in disbelief.

After the players finished signing the jersey, Advay and Ananya thanked them, still a little amused by their reaction.

Van Dijk grinned. "Don't forget what I said—stop underestimating yourself."

Salah gave Advay a fist bump. "And keep scoring those hundreds, man. We're watching."

Before leaving, one of the staff members offered to take a picture with the whole squad. Advay and Ananya stood in the middle as the Liverpool players gathered around, some making playful gestures, others still shaking their heads at how ripped Advay was.

After the photo was taken, they said their final goodbyes and headed out of the stadium.

—

On the drive back to the airport, the city lights of Liverpool flashed past, and Ananya leaned back in her seat, stretching her arms. "Okay, I'll admit it… that was pretty cool."

Advay, staring out of the window, suddenly asked, "Should I buy Liverpool FC?"

Ananya, mid-sip of water, almost choked. "WHAT?!"

He turned to her, completely serious. "I mean, I have the money."

She stared at him, mouth slightly open. "Advay, this isn't buying a Ferrari or booking a private racing track. This is Liverpool Football Club—one of the biggest teams in the world!"

He shrugged. "Yeah. That's why I asked."

Ananya facepalmed. "I swear, sometimes I forget how absurdly rich you are."

He smirked. "So, yes or no?"

She groaned. "Oh my God, you're actually considering it."

He chuckled. "Just thinking about it."

Shaking her head, she looked at him and muttered, "You're ridiculous."

He just smirked, looking back out of the window, as the car continued its journey to the airport.