"Right, isn't that romantic of me?" He said with a bit of a grin as Gael snuggled against him, and he wrapped his arm around him once Gael had settled on the right channel.

"They won't be for long," he said lazily. "Messi's been in good form this week." And Valencia didn't have many world-class players to speak of this season. He stroked his hand idly over Gael's side. "It's the Latin temperament which, I believe, you like some of the time, cariño."

Still, as much of a fan as he was, he'd also been dosed with painkillers for both his shoulder and his leg, and even football couldn't keep his attention for long, especially with Gael leaning softly against him like he was. Barça had managed to kill Valencia's lead before Carlos' eyes fell shut and his breath evened out a bit, but not very long before.

He wasn't sure how long he was out, but he woke to a sensation of falling and sliding against mud and grass that had him sitting upright in bed and hissing out a breath of pain when it pulled at his shoulder. Carlos rubbed his face with his good hand before looking over at Gael. "How long was I asleep?"