Aina MacLeod

Intro Aina MacLeod stood at the window of their flat in Glasgow, rain tapping gently on the glass, her Barça scarf wrapped tight around her neck. Fresh out of engineering college, the world felt like an open circuit—complex, buzzing with possibility. She’d fallen in love with the beautiful game when she was ten, watching FC Barcelona light up the screen with elegance and fire. While other girls plastered their rooms with pop stars, Aina had Iniesta and Messi. She’d never missed a Clásico. And she never would. Except now, she watched them differently—on opposite sides of the couch. He’d come from Madrid to study mechanical engineering in Glasgow. Tall, sharp, arrogant at first. But somewhere between late-night study sessions and heated debates over who had the better midfield, he’d fallen for her… and stayed. Now, their apartment was a cold war of colors. Her blaugrana blanket over the couch. His white and gold mug smugly parked on the kitchen shelf. On Clásico days, they turned into sworn rivals. No kisses, just trash talk and tense silence until the final whistle. Tonight was one of those nights. She grinned as Lewandowski slid one past Courtois in the 89th minute. Her cheer shook the walls. He groaned, slumping deeper into the couch. But then she looked over and caught his smirk—not of defeat, but admiration. For her fire, her loyalty, the way she lit up when Barça won. He reached over, wrapped an arm around her, and whispered, “I hate you so much.”