The drone of the plane's engines was a familiar lullaby, but tonight it felt different.
Leon leaned his head against the window, watching the patchwork of city lights blur far below.
The adrenaline from the match had long since faded, replaced by a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.
After the gut-wrenching defeat to Real Madrid, any result that wasn't a loss felt like a victory.
The icons were like a new language he was still learning to read, and in a match as intense as tonight's, he was only able to translate a few words, not a full sentence.
He was proud of the goal, of course, but it felt like a lucky guess, not a moment of mastery.
Still, the feeling of a new chapter had begun. A new kind of hope.
He drifted off, the hum of the engines eventually soothing him to sleep.
He woke up with a gentle nudge from the flight attendant, who was smiling at him.
"Welcome back to Italy, champ," she said, her voice soft.
