"No way—"
"WHO IS THAT—?"
"Oh my god—"
Knauff physically fell off the bench laughing.
Larsson pointed at Lukas like he had just discovered the final clue in a crime drama. "So that's where Germany's Golden Boy was last night."
Lukas merely exhaled.
"Yes," he said simply. "I'm dating her."
Silence.
Then:
Chaos.
"WHAT'S HER NAME??" "HOW LONG??" "IS SHE FROM DARMSTADT??" "DOES SHE LIKE FOOTBALL??" "WHAT DOES SHE THINK OF ME—"
"Nope," Lukas said immediately, holding up a hand like a traffic officer. "No extra details."
"Awww come on," Bahoya groaned. "At least show us her Instagram."
"I'm good," Lukas replied, unfazed.
Koch chuckled quietly beside him — proud that Lukas handled attention the same way he handled defenders: calmly, without losing balance.
Trapp smiled too — captain's approval, subtle and grounded.
"Alright, enough teasing," he said, voice warm but firm. "If he says she's his, she's his. Let him have his peace."
