azzi's phone dings with a notification. it's only because she recognizes the sound as her doordash chime that she checks her phone immediately. "food's here," azzi announces to the room, filled to the brim with lounging teammates. she swings her legs out of paige's lap to walk out of the apartment and down three flights of stairs to where the delivery driver is waiting.
paige continues scrolling tiktok from her spot slumped deep in the couch, flicking her eyes up in immediate annoyance when nika punches her shoulder for her attention.
"when're you gonna lock it down, twin?" she asks.
paige's face flattens even more. "this again," she mutters under her breath.
ice, with her magnificent hearing, perks up from the kitchen island. "yeah, p," she says. "when you gonna lock it down?"
paige is deeply unimpressed with their ganging-up-on-her skills and even more deeply tired of having the same conversation. "shut up, bruh," she says, loud enough that the whole room knows she's addressing it.
but since when has she been able to quell her friends' curiosity with anything other than answers?
"she likes you," jana drawls, locking her eyes on paige's with sharp determination. "you just gotta ask to make it official."
"wait, what're you so afraid of?" kaitlyn asks, sipping some hot chocolate she made herself. it's not even her apartment. "it's azzi. you guys are, like, soulmates."
"'m not afraid of anything," paige hisses. "just drop it, guys, she'll be back any second."
"you kissed her already, didn't you?" kk chimes in from her spot on the floor.
paige's face cycles through a record number of expressions in the brief second of silence she has before the room erupts in shrieks and accusations.
"you what??"
"when???"
"you didn't tell me??"
"paige!!"
"are you serious??"
"how do you know, kk??" nika asks.
kk flashes paige a sheepish smile that does nothing to placate the plots of murder swirling around in paige's mind. "well yesterday i came home and... it wasn't my fault, okay, they were so quiet i thought no one was home, but when i went into my room, the two of them--"
"shut UP, kamorea," paige snaps. she glances, panicked, at the front door. any second now, azzi would be back.
"you were FUCKING???" aubrey squeals.
"NO!!!" paige yells, jaw dropping in horror.
"no, no, no," kk assures her. "they were just cuddling in bed and, like, whispering to each other."
"oh," caroline says. paige can hear the disappointment in her tone, and she resents it. "that's normal."
kk shakes her head. "not their normal kind of cuddling. like, real close and intimate. like paige's arms--"
paige buries her face in her hands. "can we PLEASE stop talking about this," she begs.
she can tell by the sound of her intake of breath that nika is about to add something to the conversation (and paige's humiliation), but then the front door handle is turning, and everyone's heads are turning with it to see azzi step back into the apartment, two heavy plastic bags clutched in one fist.
azzi looks like a deer caught in headlights, eyes flicking from person to person, clearly unsettled by the way they’re all laser focused on her. "uhh..." she says. "what?"
"just copying paige," ice says, and paige groans.
"leave me the fuck alone," she mutters.
azzi pays the comment no mind, walking over to the kitchen island to put down the bags of delivery. "okay, well. lemon pepper here," she says, taking out one carton and putting it down on the surface as hungry teammates swarm the kitchen. "this one is cajun," azzi says. before she's even done unpacking the bags, ten hands have wings in them.
by 1 am, the last of their teammates have gone home or to bed, and paige and azzi are alone on the living room couch.
paige is laid out on top of azzi, ear pressed flush against her chest where she can hear her heart, and azzi is carding her fingers through soft, blonde hair.
paige's mind is running through the conversation from earlier, a frown forming and settling on her face. she lifts her head to look at azzi, her bottom lip jutting out in an unintentional pout.
"when you gonna let me ask you to be my girlfriend?" she asks.
azzi raises her eyebrows, caught off guard. "uh," she offers. "eventually."
paige wilts, her eyes going flat and unimpressed. "azzi," she says. azzi just looks at her. paige's face flickers with emotion again, and then she's pouting. "pleaseeeeee," she whines, voice going high and annoying in that way she only lets it around azzi. "i wanna be your girlfriend so bad," she says.
paige grins at the clear effect the confession has on azzi, the corners of her lips tugging upwards against her will. they sit in the aftermath of paige's words for a moment, hearts beating furiously against each other. then azzi sighs. "eventually," she says, looking away. "just not yet."
paige wiggles a bit on top of azzi. "why?" it's so hard to know what azzi is thinking sometimes, even for her. even for paige.
"i just..." azzi trails off, still not looking at paige.
"hey," paige says, and then she surges forward to press a kiss into azzi's cheek. she warms at the way azzi's breath hitches in pleasant surprise before pulling back. "just tell me what you're scared of."
azzi meets her eyes again, pursing her lips in adorable concern. paige really, really likes her.
"things will be different," azzi says. "and i like the way things are." she runs her hands over paige's arms, which she knows paige loves. "and i don't see what the rush is, anyway. i'm not going anywhere."
and i'm not seeing anyone else. neither of them would dare to. and neither of them even want to—that much, paige is sure of.
paige sighs. "but i wanna be your girlfriend," she repeats, her childish pout making a reappearance.
this time, azzi lets herself fully smile, dimple and all. "i wanna be your girlfriend, too, paige," she says softly. "eventually."
paige knows the conversation is over. she presses a kiss to azzi's other cheek, for balance, and settles her face into the space between azzi's shoulder and neck.
A/N: This is unedited and I’ve been pissed off all day. I hope you love it!!! xx Elle
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The rain was coming down in sheets as the girls made it to the doors closest to the athlete lot. Paige looked over at the brunette, brows furrowed. “You wait here,” she said, tugging her hood over her head. “I’ll pull my truck up, so you don’t have to get wet.”
Azzi’s brows raised as she watched the other girl running to the car. She felt her feelings for Paige deepen a little more – Jacob had never even thought about doing anything to help Azzi like that. And she knew that treatment was the bare minimum, but most of the times, he didn’t even do that.
Paige’s truck was an older one. Definitely not vintage, but it was clear that it had been restored. She wondered if Paige had done the work herself.
She got as close to the doors as she could, pushing the door open with one hand. Azzi pulled her sweater over her head and jogged the short distance to the car, careful to avoid any puddles.
The blonde waited for Azzi to buckle her seatbelt, then pulled away from the curb.
Azzi didn’t know what to do. She’d never been this close to someone she liked, and she knew her body was radiating her anxiety. Her body was tense as she clasped her hands in her lap. Her legs were tightly crossed, like she was trying to take up as little space as possible.
“Um,” she started nervously. “So what’s your favorite muffin flavor? Like since you said I made your favorite.”
“Oh, well, chocolate chip muffins are classic. But I’ve loved lemon poppyseed ones since I was a little kid.” Paige said warmly.
Azzi hummed to herself, cataloging that information, and hoping she could use it in the future.
“And sorry I was late today. We had to run extra sprints because someone couldn’t stop running his mouth today.”
Azzi's nose wrinkled. "Let me guess. Jacob?"
"Bingo." Paige drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, turning left out of the school parking lot. "He was talking shit during drills, and Coach made the whole team pay for it."
"That sounds like him," Azzi said quietly, and Paige caught the edge of something bitter in her voice.
They drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes, rain pattering against the windshield. Paige flicked the wipers on, watching them sweep back and forth in a steady rhythm. The roads were slick and dark, streetlights reflecting off the wet pavement.
"Where are we going?" Azzi finally asked.
"The lake," Paige said. "There's a spot my dad showed me when I was younger. It's quiet. Private. Good place to think."
Azzi nodded, relaxing slightly into her seat. "That sounds nice."
The drive took about fifteen minutes, winding through back roads until they reached the edge of the water. Paige pulled into a small clearing overlooking the lake, killing the engine. Rain drummed steadily on the roof of the truck, creating a cocoon of sound around them.
Paige glanced over at Azzi, "This okay?"
"It's perfect," Azzi said softly, looking out at the water. The surface was gray and rippled with rain, peaceful in its own way.
Paige reached for the muffin box between them, popping it open. "Alright, let's see what we've got here."
Azzi picked up up one of the cinnamon apple muffins, peeling back the wrapper carefully. She took a small bite, and her eyes immediately lit up.
"Oh my god," she said, covering her mouth. "These are so good."
Paige grinned, grabbing a lemon poppyseed one for herself. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Azzi took another bite, bigger this time. "The caramel apple filling is perfect. Not too sweet, and the cinnamon – " She shook her head. "I'm really proud of these."
"You should be. They look perfect," Paige said, biting into her own muffin. The lemon flavor burst on her tongue, tart and sweet at the same time. "Holy shit, Azzi. These are incredible."
Azzi's cheeks flushed pink, and she looked down at her lap. "Thank you."
Paige studied her for a moment, watching the way Azzi's fingers fidgeted with the muffin wrapper. "So why'd you make four different kinds anyway? That's a lot of muffins for one person."
Azzi was quiet for a beat, then sighed. "Baking is my anxious activity. When I'm stressed or can't sleep, I bake. It helps me think."
"You were anxious?" Paige asked, though she already knew the answer.
"Yeah." Azzi's voice was small. "I can't sleep well when I know people are angry with me. And I knew you were angry yesterday. I could feel it."
Paige's chest tightened. She set her muffin down on the dashboard, turning to face Azzi more fully. "I was angry," she admitted. "But not at you. Not really."
"You should be," Azzi said quickly, finally meeting Paige's eyes. The blonde's breath hitched as the tears she saw forming. "I should have said something at lunch. I should have defended you and your friends. What they were saying – what Jacob, and Tegan, and Chrissy, and Harrison, and all of them were saying – it was awful. And I just sat there."
"Azzi – "
"No, let me finish." Azzi's hands were shaking now, gripping the muffin wrapper tight. "I need you to know that I don't believe any of that. I don't think there's anything wrong with people loving who they love. I think love is beautiful, no matter who it's between. And I'm so, so sorry I didn't say that when it mattered."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and honest.
Paige felt something crack open in her chest – relief, maybe, or hope, or something she didn't have a name for yet. She'd been so scared that Azzi was just like the rest of them. So worried that her silence meant agreement.
But looking at Azzi now – at the tears gathering in her brown eyes, at the way her whole body was tense with the weight of her confession – Paige realized she'd been insane to even consider that.
"You really mean that?" Paige asked softly.
"I really mean that," Azzi whispered. "I love all people, Paige. I always have."
Paige swallowed hard, nodding. "Thank you for telling me."
Azzi wiped at her eyes quickly, letting out a shaky laugh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cry in your truck."
"Don't apologize," Paige said. "You're allowed to have feelings."
They sat in silence for a moment, the rain still drumming overhead. Paige picked her muffin back up, taking another bite to give herself something to do with her hands.
"Can I ask you something?" Paige said after a while.
Azzi nodded, reaching for a blueberry muffin. "Of course."
"Why are you dating Jacob?"
Azzi froze, the muffin halfway to her mouth. "What?"
"Jacob," Paige repeated, keeping her voice gentle. "You're kind, and sweet, and thoughtful. You bake muffins when you're anxious and you care about people and you're – " She stopped herself before she said too much. "You're a good person, Azzi. And Jacob is awful. He's homophobic and misogynistic and he treats people like shit. So why are you with him?"
Azzi set the muffin down, her shoulders sagging. "It's complicated."
"Try me."
Azzi was quiet for a long moment, staring out at the rain-soaked lake. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "My parents expect me to date a boy from church. Someone who shares their values, who comes from a good family, who they approve of. Jacob checks all those boxes."
"But you don't even like him," Paige said, and it wasn't a question.
"No," Azzi admitted. "I don't. Not really. But it makes my parents happy. It keeps the peace."
Paige felt a surge of frustration – not at Azzi, but at the situation. At the parents who cared more about appearances than their daughter's happiness. At the church that taught people to hide who they really were. They were just like her mom.
"Azzi," she started carefully. "Doing things just to keep your parents happy is going to lead you to a miserable life. You're going to wake up one day and realize you've spent years being someone you're not, and you're going to regret it."
"I know," Azzi said, and there were tears in her voice again. "I know that. But I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to be anything other than what they want me to be."
Paige reached across the center console, hesitating for just a second before placing her hand over Azzi's. "You start by being honest. With yourself first, and then with them. It's scary as hell, but it's worth it. I promise."
Azzi looked down at their hands, her fingers curling slightly around Paige's. "But I'm scared. What if they don't love me anymore?"
"Then they don't deserve you," Paige said firmly. "And you'll find people who do. People who love you for exactly who you are."
Azzi's breath hitched, and she squeezed Paige's hand. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For caring," Azzi said simply.
Paige's heart did something complicated in her chest, and she had to look away before she did something stupid. Because the way Azzi looked, sitting in her car, looking like her like that made her want to do something crazy, like lean across the console and –
No. Not going there.
She cleared her throat, pulling her hand back gently. "So, uh. What time do you have to be home?"
Azzi blinked, clearly thrown by the subject change. "Oh. Um. My parents are out of town for the next ten days, so I don't really have a curfew tonight."
"Ten days?" Paige raised an eyebrow. "Where'd they go?"
"I think a ministry conference in Atlanta," Azzi said, wrinkling her nose. "My dad's speaking at a few sessions."
Paige nodded slowly, an idea forming. "So you're home alone? No one waiting for you?"
"Just me," Azzi confirmed. "Why?"
"Come to dinner at my house," Paige said impulsively. "My dad makes the best spaghetti, and I think – I think it would be good for him to meet you. To see that you're not like your parents."
Azzi's eyes widened. "Oh. I – are you sure? I don't want to impose."
"You're not imposing," Paige said. "I'm inviting you. There's a difference."
Azzi bit her lip, considering. "What if your dad doesn't like me?"
"He will," Paige said with more confidence than she felt. "Just be yourself. That's all you need to do."
Azzi was quiet for another moment, then nodded. "Okay. Yeah. I'd like that."
"Yeah?" Paige grinned, relief flooding through her.
"Yeah," Azzi said, smiling back. "Let's do it."
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The drive back to Paige's house was shorter than the drive to the lake, but it felt longer. Paige's stomach was doing flips the entire time, second-guessing her impulsive invitation.
What if her dad was still in a bad mood from Sunday? What if he grilled Azzi too hard? What if he said something that made her uncomfortable?
But it was too late to back out now. They were already pulling into the driveway, and Paige could see the lights on in the kitchen.
"This is it," Paige said, killing the engine.
Azzi looked up at the house, clutching the muffin box in her lap. "It's nice."
"It's home," Paige said simply. "Come on."
They made their way to the front door, and Paige pushed it open. "Dad? I'm home!"
Bob appeared in the hallway, wiping his hands on a dish towel. His eyes landed on Azzi, and his expression immediately shifted – guarded, cautious.
"Dad, this is Azzi," Paige said quickly. "My tutor. I invited her to dinner. Hope that's okay."
Bob's jaw tightened slightly, but he nodded. "Sure. We've got plenty."
"Thank you so much for having me, Mr. Bueckers," Azzi said politely, stepping forward. "I brought muffins. I wasn't sure what kind you'd like, so I made a few different flavors."
She held out the box, and Bob took it, glancing inside. "You made these?"
"Yes, sir," Azzi said. "This morning."
Bob grunted, setting the box on the counter. "Well. Thank you."
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Paige shot her dad a look that said be nice, and he sighed.
"Dinner's almost ready," Bob said. "Paige, set the table. Azzi, you can wash up in the bathroom down the hall if you want."
"Thank you," Azzi said again, disappearing down the hallway.
The moment she was gone, Paige turned to her dad. "Please don't be weird."
"I'm not being weird," Bob said defensively.
"You're being weird," Paige insisted. "Just – give her a chance, okay? I'm telling you, she's not like her parents."
Bob's expression softened slightly. "I'm trying, kiddo. I am."
"I know," Paige said. "Just keep trying."
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Dinner dinner started off awkward.
Bob asked Azzi the standard questions – where she wanted to go school, what her grades were like, what she wanted to study in college. But there was an edge to his tone, like he was looking for something to be wrong.
"So your dad's a pastor," Bob said, twirling spaghetti around his fork.
"Yes, sir," Azzi said carefully.
"At the same church my ex-wife goes to."
"Oh, um, I think so."
Bob nodded slowly. "And what do you think about what they preach there?"
"Dad – " Paige started, but Azzi held up a hand.
"It's okay," she said softly. She turned to Bob, meeting his eyes. "I think some of what they preach is beautiful. The parts about love and grace and forgiveness. But I also think a lot of it is wrong. The parts about judgment and exclusion and hate."
Bob's eyebrows rose slightly. "That's a bold thing to say about your own father's church."
"It's the truth," Azzi said simply. "I don't agree with everything my parents believe. I think people should be allowed to love who they love and be who they are without fear of judgment."
The room went quiet. Paige held her breath, watching her dad's face.
Finally, Bob set down his fork. "You really believe that?"
"I do," Azzi said firmly.
Bob studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright then."
The tension in the room eased slightly, and Paige let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
"These muffins are really good, by the way," Bob said, reaching for one of the chocolate chip ones Azzi had left on the counter. "You make these from scratch?"
"Yes, sir," Azzi said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Baking is kind of my thing."
"Well, you're damn good at it," Bob said. "Paige, you should learn a thing or two from her. Your cookies always come out like hockey pucks."
"Hey!" Paige protested, but she was grinning.
Azzi laughed – a real, genuine laugh – and Bob's expression softened even more.
"So Paige tells me you've been helping her with her school work," Bob said, his tone warmer now.
"I have," Azzi said. "She's doing really well. She got a B on her last math quiz."
"I heard," Bob said, glancing at Paige with pride. "First time in a long time."
"She's smart," Azzi said earnestly. "She just learns differently than the way they teach in class. Once we figured that out, everything clicked."
Bob nodded slowly, and Paige saw something shift in his expression. He was starting to see it – what Paige had seen from the beginning. That Azzi was kind and genuine and nothing like the people at that church.
"You working on any projects at school?" Bob asked, leaning back in his chair.
"A few," Azzi said. "I'm in the middle of a research paper on Animal Farm for English. And I'm helping organize the church's youth group fundraiser next month."
"What's the fundraiser for?" Bob asked.
"We're raising money for a local women's shelter," Azzi explained. "A lot of the women there are escaping domestic violence, and they need resources – clothes, toiletries, things like that. We're trying to put together care packages."
Bob's expression softened even more. "That's good work."
"Thank you," Azzi said. "It's important to me."
They talked for another hour, the conversation flowing more easily as Bob's guard came down. Azzi asked about the truck, and Bob's whole face lit up as he described the restoration process. She listened intently, asking thoughtful questions, and Paige could see her dad warming to her more and more.
By the time they finished eating, Bob was smiling – really smiling – and Paige felt something settle in her chest.
"You're welcome here anytime, Azzi," Bob said as they cleared the table. "And I mean that."
"Thank you, Mr. Bueckers," Azzi said, her voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot to me."
Bob nodded, then glanced at Paige. "You picked a good one to help you, kiddo."
Paige's cheeks flushed, but she grinned. "Yeah. I did."
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The drive to Azzi's house was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The rain had finally stopped, leaving the streets slick and reflective under the streetlights.
When they pulled up to Azzi's house, Paige let out a low whistle. "Damn. That's a big house to be empty all the time."
Azzi looked up at the pristine white colonial with its perfectly manicured lawn and dark windows. "Yeah," she said softly. "It is."
Paige turned to look at her, and Azzi felt the weight of those blue eyes. "You gonna be okay here by yourself?"
"I'm used to it," Azzi said, and it was true. But tonight, for the first time in a long time, she didn't want to go inside. She wanted to stay in this truck, in this moment, where everything felt safe and possible.
"Thanks for tonight," Azzi said, her hand on the door handle. "For inviting me. For – for everything."
"Anytime," Paige said, and the way she said it made Azzi believe her.
Azzi hesitated, then pushed the door open. Paige helped her unload the bike, their hands brushing as they worked together. When everything was settled, they stood in the driveway for a moment longer than necessary.
"See you tomorrow?" Paige asked.
"Yeah," Azzi said, smiling. "See you tomorrow."
She watched Paige's truck disappear down the street before finally turning toward the house.
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Azzi went through her nighttime routine ne on autopilot – washing her face, brushing her teeth, changing into her pajamas. But her mind was somewhere else entirely, replaying everything Paige had said at the lake.
Doing things just to keep your parents happy is going to lead you to a miserable life. You're going to wake up one day and realize you've spent years being someone you're not, and you're going to regret it.
She stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection. The girl looking back at her was familiar – perfectly styled hair, modest pajamas, the cross necklace she never took off. But was this really her? Or was this just who her parents wanted her to be?
Azzi thought about Jacob, about sitting at that lunch table while he spewed hate. She thought about Chrissy and Teagan, about the youth group meetings where she smiled and nodded and never said what she really thought. She thought about the way her mother inspected her outfits every Sunday, the way her father expected her to be the perfect pastor's daughter.
She'd been playing a role for so long that she wasn't sure she knew who she was underneath it all.
But Paige saw something in her. Something real. Something worth defending to her own father.
Azzi touched the cross at her throat, then slowly unclasped it. She set it on the counter and looked at herself again. Without it, she looked different. Younger, maybe. Or just – less certain.
You start by being honest. With yourself first, and then with them.
Paige's words echoed in her head as she climbed into bed. The house was too quiet, too big, too empty. But for once, Azzi didn't mind the silence. It gave her space to think.
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She couldn't sleep. After an hour of staring at the ceiling, Azzi reached for her laptop.
She started with a simple search: best colleges outside of Texas.
The results flooded her screen – schools in California, New York, Massachusetts, Oregon. Places so far from home that her parents couldn't just show up unannounced. Places where no one knew who her father was or what he preached.
Azzi clicked through websites, reading about programs and campuses and student life. She looked at photos of diverse student bodies, of pride flags hanging in dorm windows, of people who looked free in a way she'd never felt.
Stanford had a beautiful campus and an excellent pre-med program. NYU was in the heart of the city, surrounded by art and culture and possibility. Michigan had a strong academic reputation and – she paused on this one – a really good football team.
She bookmarked pages, saved links, made notes in a document she titled "Future Plans" and password-protected immediately. Her parents checked her laptop sometimes, and she couldn't risk them finding this.
The fear was there – sharp and real. What would they do if she actually left? Would they cut her off financially? Disown her completely? Tell the entire congregation that she'd abandoned her faith?
But underneath the fear was something else. Something that felt like hope.
Maybe she didn't have to live this life forever. Maybe there was a way out.
Azzi closed the college tabs and opened Instagram, typing Jacob's name into the search bar.
She scrolled through his profile with clinical detachment. Photos of him at parties, at games, with his arm around various girls. She recognized some of them from school – cheerleaders, mostly. Girls who weren't her.
She clicked on his tagged photos, digging deeper. There had to be something here. Something her parents would find objectionable enough to approve of a breakup.
A photo from two weeks ago caught her eye – Jacob at a party, red solo cup in hand, clearly drunk. The caption read "wild night 🍺🔥" and there were at least a dozen similar photos in the comments.
Azzi screenshot it.
She kept scrolling. More party photos. A video of him doing a handstand with a tube in his mouth, shirtless, foam around his mouth. She wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but it looked ridiculous and messy. Comments from girls that were definitely flirtatious, and Jacob responding back with winking emojis and suggestive replies. A photo where he was clearly smoking something, though she couldn't tell what.
She screenshot everything, creating a folder on her phone labeled "Evidence."
It felt calculated and cold, but Azzi couldn't bring herself to feel guilty. She noticed something in one of the photos – Chrissy's nails, freshly manicured with a design that matched she had posted about two days prior. It was small, maybe nothing, but it planted a seed of doubt that wouldn't quite go away. And even if there was nothing there, Jacob was still a terrible person who said terrible things. If she could use this to get her parents to let her break up with him, she would.
She deserved better than this. She deserved to be with someone who actually cared about her, who saw her as more than just a prop to maintain his image.
Or maybe she deserved to be alone for a while. To figure out who she was without someone else's expectations weighing her down.
Azzi finally closed her laptop around two in the morning, exhaustion pulling at her bones. But despite everything – the weight of her parents' expectations, the relationship with Jacob, the desperate need to escape – she felt something light in her chest.
Paige was her friend again.
They were in a good place. Better than good, actually. Paige had invited her to dinner, had defended her to Bob, had shared her truck and her space and her trust. And Azzi had been honest in a way she'd never been with anyone before.
I love all people, Paige. I always have.
She'd said it out loud. She'd told Paige the truth, and Paige hadn't rejected her. Hadn't looked at her with disgust or disappointment. She'd just listened, and understood, and offered her hand.
Azzi pulled her blanket up to her chin, smiling in the darkness. She didn't fully understand why having Paige back mattered so much. Why the thought of those blue eyes and that easy smile made her heart do complicated things in her chest.
But it did matter. More than almost anything else right now.
And maybe that was enough for tonight.
Tomorrow she could worry about colleges and breakups and disappointing her parents. Tomorrow she could figure out how to be brave.
Tonight, she could just be happy that Paige Bueckers was her friend.
She fell asleep with that thought warming her from the inside out, and for the first time in weeks, she didn't wake up once.
A/n: Hi guys! I know this chapter is gonna be hard to get through and very upsetting but after this the worst is over!! Also this is unedited so ignore any mistakes! There’s one more chapter left in book one before book two starts! I love you all, thank you for the constant love and support! Lmk your thoughts! 🩷 Also…. If you wanna talk about book two there are some hints I might be willing to give away
Word count: 11k
Nika was pacing the floor of the communal area, her mind entirely consumed with getting back to Paige. She cornered the counselor who helped her weeks before in a quiet corner of the hallway.
"Take me back to Paige's room," Nika demanded under her breath, blocking his path. "Now."
The counselor went completely pale, looking around frantically to see if anyone was watching them. "I can't, Nika. She’s not in the isolation wing anymore. She got moved to a completely different part of the facility this morning. I'm not helping you anymore. It's too dangerous."
Nika didn't even blink. A cold, calculating smirk crossed her face as she leaned in closer. "That's fine. If you won't take me, I'll just go tell them about how you smuggled me into the isolation wing to see her. Let's see how fast you get fired and blacklisted from working anywhere ever again."
The counselor's jaw dropped, fear instantly overriding his hesitation. "You wouldn't."
"Try me," Nika whispered, her eyes dead serious.
Terrified of losing his job, the counselor swallowed hard and nodded. "Fine. Follow me. But you have two minutes."
He led Nika down a flight of concrete stairs into a lower unit, using his keycard to bypass the security on the doors. He pointed toward a small, dim room at the end of the hall. "That's her new room. Go. Quickly."
Nika hurried down the corridor and pushed the door open. The room was even smaller than the isolation cell, smelling faintly of damp concrete and chemical cleaner. Paige was laying flat on the thin mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling, looking completely dazed and hollowed out.
"Paige," Nika breathed, rushing to the side of the bed. She sat on the edge and immediately reached out, gently rubbing Paige’s pale face, trying to ground her. "Paige, are you okay? What did they do to you?" Nika leaned down, pressing a soft, deeply comforting kiss to Paige's forehead.
The touch seemed to bring Paige back to reality. Her eyes focused on Nika, and a fresh wave of helpless tears instantly spilled over her lashes.
"My parents came today," Paige choked out, her voice raspy and broken as she began to sob. "They met with my counselor... they read my letters. They told the counselor that Azzi and I were... that… they said we kissed and that I left marks on her."
Paige shook her head, a violent shudder wracking her shoulders as she gripped Nika’s sleeve. "I freaked out because they kept calling Azzi disgusting and saying I was sick. I yelled at them. I told them I hated them. So they dragged me down here. The counselor said this is for harder therapy...I'm so tired, Nika. I can't do this."
Seeing her friend completely break down made something shift in Nika's eyes. Instead of panicking, a sharp, fierce grin spread across Nika's face. She squeezed Paige's shoulders tightly.
"Hey, listen to me. Look at me, Paige," Nika whispered urgently, her voice buzzing with sudden adrenaline. "This is actually a good thing. This is going to make it so much easier for us to escape."
Paige blinked through her tears, confused. "What? How?"
"Think about it. Up in the isolation wing, you were surrounded by security, totally locked down. Down here, yeah it’s a strict unit, but there isn’t staff staring through a window at you every second," Nika explained rapidly, her eyes darting to the door to make sure the counselor was still watching the hall. "But we have to be together to pull it off. So here's the plan, I'm going to go right back upstairs, find my counselor, and tell her that Jordyn and I did things. I'll make up whatever I have to so they think I need to be down here.”
Nika gave Paige a reassuring, determined smile, wiping a stray tear from Paige's cheek. "They're going to send me straight down to this unit with you. And once we're both down here, Paige... we're getting the hell out of this place."
Paige let out a fragile, shuddering breath, her fingers tightening weakly around Nika’s sleeve.
"I feel so weak," Paige whispered, her voice cracking. "I’ve thrown up three times today. They brought a tray earlier, but I can't look at food. I can't eat. I’m just so tired. My whole body aches."
Nika’s expression softened into worry. She immediately shifted closer on the narrow mattress, wrapping an arm around Paige's shaking shoulders and pulling her into an embrace. She used her free hand to gently brush a stray lock of blonde hair away from Paige’s forehead.
"I know, P. I know you're exhausted," Nika murmured softly. "They are trying to break you, but you can’t let them do it to your body. You have to try and eat some dinner tonight. Even if it’s just a couple of bites, okay? You have to keep something down."
Paige buried her face into Nika's shoulder, her breath shallow and uneven. "I don't know if I have any strength left to fight them."
"Yes, you do," Nika insisted, her voice dropping into a firm, unyielding whisper right next to Paige's ear. "Think about Azzi. She needs you to be strong. She is out there right now waiting for you, loving you, and counting on you to make it back to her."
Paige let out a tiny, watery sob at the mention of Azzi, nodding weakly.
"Just hold on for a little bit longer," Nika promised, squeezing her tightly one last time before she had to get up. She looked down at Paige with absolute determination. "I’m going upstairs right now to cause a scene. I'll tell them whatever they need to hear about me and Jordyn, and I will be down here with you soon."
—
Later that evening, the door to the counselor's office clicked shut behind Nika. The room was bathed in the warm, artificial light of a desk lamp, a sharp contrast to the cold, stark concrete of the basement unit she had just visited.
Nika sat in the cushioned chair across from her counselor, letting her shoulders slump. She forced her eyes to look wide, watery, and completely overwhelmed, clasping her hands tightly in her lap to mimic a girl on the verge of a confession.
"Nika, you asked for an emergency session tonight," the counselor said, leaning forward with a gentle, encouraging smile. "What’s on your mind?"
Nika let out a shaky, rehearsed breath, looking down at her lap. "There’s... there’s something that’s been weighing on my heart lately. I can't keep carrying the lie anymore."
The counselor's eyes lit up slightly; this was the breakthrough they always wanted. She picked up her pen, leaning in. "You can tell me, Nika. This is a safe space for healing."
"When I first got here... during my intake, I lied about the extent of my sickness," Nika whispered, swallowing hard to force a tremor into her voice. "I told you it was just a crush, just a phase. But it wasn't. Back home, before I got sent here, I had a girlfriend."
The counselor leaned forward, jotting down a quick note. "And what was the nature of your relationship with her, Nika?"
"We were completely involved," Nika said, her voice dropping to a shameful, quiet murmur. "We couldn't keep our hands off each other. It was constant, and I hid it because I was so terrified of what you all would think of me. But I'm so tired of carrying the guilt. I'm so sick."
The counselor stared at her for a long, quiet moment, evaluating her. Then, she slowly placed her pen down and offered a sympathetic, nodding smile.
"I deeply appreciate your honesty, Nika. Admitting the truth, especially when it is painful and exposes the depth of your struggle, is always the very first step toward true correction," the counselor said. Her expression then shifted, turning grave and strictly professional. "However, because of the initial lie, and the sudden discovery of active, physical deviance, your current treatment plan is no longer sufficient."
Nika squeezed her hands tighter, doing her best to look terrified. "What do you mean?"
"Your behavior is more deeply rooted than we initially assessed," the counselor explained, pulling a fresh set of forms from her desk drawer. "Because of this, you need to be sent to a higher level of therapy. We are transferring you tonight."
A wave of triumphant relief washed over Nika's chest. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.
"Please," Nika whimpered, putting her hands over her face to hide the sudden spark of victory in her eyes. "Please don't lock me away down there."
"It is for your own good, Nika. Pack your things," the counselor said firmly, picking up the phone to call security.
Behind her hands, Nika let out a silent, breathless laugh.
—
The harsh fluorescent lights of the basement cafeteria hummed with a low, oppressive vibration. Paige sat at one of tables, staring blankly at a small bowl of chicken broth and a piece of dry toast. True to her promise to Nika, she was trying to eat, but her stomach was still in knots.
Suddenly, a metal tray slid onto the table right next to hers.
Paige gasped, snapping her head around, and her eyes instantly lit up. "Nika!" she whispered, a sudden, bright burst of genuine relief washing over her face.
Nika offered a tired but victorious grin, sliding onto the bench beside her. "Told you I’d make it down here," she murmured, leaning in close so her voice wouldn't carry to the guards stationed by the exit doors.
"I can't believe you actually did it," Paige breathed, her eyes shining with tears of gratitude. For the first time in days, the pain in her chest loosened. "I was so scared I’d be down here alone."
"Never," Nika said firmly, though her smile faded slightly as she looked around the grim, windowless room. The atmosphere down here was completely different; quieter, heavier, and thick with tension. "But... I'm not going to lie, P. I'm really nervous. Do you have any idea what the therapy is actually going to be like down here?"
Paige's shoulders slumped, her gaze dropping back to her untouched toast. "I don't know. My counselor said something about aversion therapy, I think... I think they’re going to try to make us hate the girls we love. I don't know if my head can take much more of them screaming at me."
"We just have to keep our heads down until we find a way out," Nika said, trying to sound brave, though her hands trembled slightly as she picked up her spoon. She stirred her soup in silence for a moment, her eyes turning distant and troubled.
"Paige..." Nika began, her voice dropping to a vulnerable, quiet whisper. "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course," Paige said, shifting so she was facing her friend. "What is it?"
"I feel so guilty," Nika confessed, her chest heaving with a heavy sigh. She stared down at her tray, her knuckles turning white. "I feel like I betrayed Jordyn by flirting with that guy. She trusts me. She's out there waiting for me, and I crossed a line. When we get out of here and I have to tell her... she is going to be so angry with me."
Paige's heart ached for her. She reached over, placing her hand gently over Nika's, squeezing it with as much strength as she could muster.
"Nika," Paige said softly, her voice filled with absolute sincerity. "You did what you had to do. You are surviving."
Nika bit her lip, a tear spilling over her lashes. "But it still feels wrong."
"She loves you," Paige insisted gently, wiping the tear from Nika's cheek just like Nika had done for her. "When we get out of here, she isn't going to care about some stupid counselor you had to trick. She is just going to be so incredibly happy and relieved that you're safe, and that she has you back. You didn't do it to hurt her. You did it to get back to her."
Nika let out a shaky breath, letting Paige's words soothe the sharp edge of her guilt. She nodded slowly, squeezing Paige's hand back. "Thanks, P."
The double doors of the therapy room swung shut, locking with a dull, motorized hum. Paige and Nika sat side by side in plastic chairs, their shoulders practically glued together. A counselor they hadn't seen before; an older woman with her gray hair pulled back into a bun so tight it seemed to pull the skin of her temples taut, sat behind a podium at the front.
Paige’s heart was hammering against her ribs. She gripped the edges of her seat, her knuckles white. Next to her, she could feel the tension radiating off Nika in waves. They were both waiting for the hammer to fall, expecting aggressive interrogation or worse.
The counselor adjusted her glasses, looking down at them with a mixture of cold pity and stern authority. She cleared her throat, the sound echoing sharply off the concrete walls.
"We must strip away the lies you have built around your behavior," the counselor began, her voice dropping into a bizarre, intense solemnity. "We must look at the physical reality of your deviance. I think we can all agree here... that a woman’s body is a highly dangerous vessel of temptation."
She leaned over the podium, her eyes wide as she grew oddly, intensely descriptive.
"The devil knew what he was doing," she continued, her voice dropping to a breathless whisper. "The soft, perfectly sculpted curve of a female shoulder. The delicate slope of her waist. The way a woman's collarbone catches the light, or the warmth of her skin when she is near... it is a trap. They are simply too alluring, too beautiful to resist, and you must guard your eyes from finding them attractive!"
Paige froze. Her mind, which had been braced for the worst, completely stalled out.
She stared at the counselor, her jaw dropping slightly. Wait, Paige thought, her eyes widening as she processed the words. Did she just say 'too beautiful to resist'? Is she... describing how much she likes women? The irony of this counselor standing at a podium accidentally explaining; in vivid detail, how incredibly attractive she found the female body was too much.
A bubble of hysteria rose up in Paige's throat. She tried to swallow it down. She clenched her jaw, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper, desperately trying to keep a straight face.
But then a tiny, muffled pfft escaped her nose.
The counselor’s eyes snapped directly to Paige. "Is something amusing?"
That was the breaking point. Paige’s shoulders began to shake. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hand over her mouth, but the mental image of this woman secretly pinning over shoulders was too hilarious. A breathless, high-pitched giggle spilled through her fingers.
"Paige," the counselor warned, her voice dropping into a harsh, offended register. "This is highly inappropriate. Your soul is at stake, and you are—"
"I'm sorry," Paige wheezed, her eyes watering as a full, genuine laugh broke through. She was laughing so hard her chest heaved. "I'm sorry, it's just... you described it... so beautifully..."
Nika turned her head to look at Paige, her eyes wide with shock. But as she caught on to what Paige was laughing at, and realized exactly how deeply the counselor had just told on herself, the absurdity of the situation slipped past Nika's defenses.
Nika let out a sharp, sudden snort.
"Nika!" the counselor barked, slamming her hand flat on the podium, her face flushing a deep, embarrassed red. "Silence!"
But the dam had broken. Nika buried her face in her hands, her shoulders rolling as she joined in, her loud, echoing laughter bouncing off the sterile concrete walls.
The counselor’s face hardened, the deep red blush on her cheeks fading back into a stern, defensive scowl. She slammed her folder onto the podium, the loud thwack finally bringing Paige and Nika’s giggles to a halt.
"Since you find the mechanics of temptation so amusing, Paige, let us bring the focus back to you," the counselor said, her voice dropping into a sharp, challenging edge. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the wood. "Tell me. What do you think your main temptation is? What is the root of your sickness?"
Paige wiped a stray tear of laughter from her eye, her breathing still a little erratic. The fear that usually paralyzed her in these sessions was completely gone, replaced by a strange, lightheaded calmness. She looked at the counselor, then shrugged slightly, her voice remarkably soft and honest.
"I don't think it's a temptation," Paige said, her eyes turning warm as her mind drifted right back to her room at St. Mary's. "And I didn’t think I liked girls, I just... I think I met my girlfriend, and she was kind, and so beautiful, and she made me feel safe and cared for. I just couldn't stay away from her."
Nika glanced at Paige, a soft, supportive look passing over her face.
The counselor blinked, clearly expecting an argument rather than a confession. She adjusted her glasses, clearing her throat as she quickly tried to steer the conversation back into her script.
"Well," the counselor said. "I appreciate your honesty, Paige. Truly. Awareness is a tool. But what you fail to see is that women are inherently manipulative. They will use the exact things you just mentioned; softness, feigned kindness, physical beauty, to snare you. They use those traits to wrap you around their finger, to corrupt your mind and isolate you from your family and faith, until you are entirely dependent on their validation."
Normally, a speech like that would have made Paige’s blood boil. She would have screamed, defended Azzi, and fought until staff dragged her out.
But right now? Paige couldn't even find it in herself to get mad.
She just sat there, staring at the counselor with a tiny, amused smirk playing at the corner of her lips. It was impossible to take the lecture seriously.
The counselor was right in the middle of explaining how "unregulated feminine energy leads directly to emotional instability" when a hand slowly rose from the group.
Sitting a few chairs away from Paige and Nika was a quiet, deadpan girl named Riley, who had been in the basement unit for a few weeks. She was staring at the counselor with a look of analytical concentration.
The counselor stopped mid-sentence, looking relieved to have an active participant. "Yes, Riley? Do you have a breakthrough you'd like to share regarding the nature of manipulation?"
Riley didn't blink. She leaned forward, her voice perfectly serious, hollow, and innocent. "No. I was just wondering... were you once a patient here?"
The room went dead silent.
The counselor’s mouth literally fell open. Her face transformed from clinical superiority to absolute, wide-eyed horror in a matter of seconds. "I—I beg your pardon?!" she sputtered, her tight bun practically vibrating with offense. "I have a master's degree in psychology! I am a certified—"
Beside Nika, Paige let out a violent, strangled snort. She immediately slammed both hands over her face, but it was useless. She doubled over in her chair, her forehead close to her knees as she shook with pure, breathless laughter.
Nika wasn't any better. She tried to disguise her laugh as a cough, but it mutated into a loud, wheezing cackle that echoed off the concrete walls. She buried her face in Paige’s shoulder, her tears spilling over as both of them just collapsed into each other, dying of laughter.
"Silence! Both of you, silence right now!" the counselor shrieked, her voice cracking, she was a deep, furious shade of red. "This is a serious therapeutic environment! Riley, go back to your room! Paige and Nika, if you do not control your disordered outbursts this instant, I will have the staff—"
But Paige couldn't even hear the threats. Her stomach ached, her lungs burned, as she cried real tears of amusement.
—
The cafeteria felt significantly less oppressive by the time lunch rolled around. Paige and Nika slid into their spot at the table, they were both vibrating with a loose, giddy energy.
"I literally couldn't breathe," Nika whispered the second they sat down, tearing off a piece of her bread and hiding her grin behind her hand. "When Riley asked that, I swear I saw the counselor's soul leave her body for a second."
Paige let out a quiet, breathless giggle, her cheeks flushing with color for the first time in weeks. She leaned across the table, her eyes wide and sparkling. "No, but think about it, Nika. It actually makes so much sense. The way she was talking right before that? Nobody describes a woman like that unless they’ve spent a lot of time staring at one."
"Oh, absolutely," Nika laughed, leaning in closer so their shoulders touched. "She definitely had a girlfriend. It was probably back in college, she had a roommate named like…. Eleanor."
"Eleanor!" Paige snorted, putting her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound as a staff member walked past their table. "Yes! And they probably studied together for hours, and now she’s taking all her heartbreak out on us because Eleanor moved to Paris and married an artist."
"Exactly! She's sitting up there trying to convince us a woman's neck is dangerous, when really she’s just mad that Eleanor didn't write her back," Nika joked, nudging Paige’s arm.
Paige smiled, a genuine, warm feeling spreading through her chest. She was still trapped in the facility, her body was still exhausted, and her parents had betrayed her; but sitting here, laughing with Nika, she didn't feel broken anymore. The facility hadn't won.
"Well, whatever happened to Eleanor," Paige whispered, taking a bite of her lunch and looking at Nika with profound gratitude, "I’m just glad Riley called her out. I don't think I'm ever going to be scared of her lectures again."
The loose, lightheaded happiness from lunch vanished the moment the cafeteria doors opened and a staff member called Paige’s name. Nika gave her hand a tight, encouraging squeeze under the table, but Paige could feel the familiar knot of dread tightening in her stomach as she was led down a completely unfamiliar corridor.
The guard pushed open the door to a small, windowless room. There was no podium or conference table here. Instead, a sterile, vinyl chair sat in the center of the room, facing a large television monitor mounted on the wall. Next to the chair was a metal cart filled with strange electronic equipment, wires, and a small glass of water.
A new counselor; a man with cold, unblinking eyes and a detached, clinical demeanor, stood by the cart, adjusting a set of dials.
"Sit, Paige," he said flatly, not even looking up.
Paige swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs as she walked over and sat down. The vinyl was cold beneath her. Before she could ask what was happening, the counselor stepped forward. He picked up two fabric bands lined with metal sensors and wrapped them tightly around Paige's wrists, securing the velcro with a loud, aggressive rip. The wires from the bands trailed back to the machine on the cart.
"What is this?" Paige asked, her voice trembling as she tried to pull her wrists back, but the bands held her arms firmly to the chair.
"This is the next stage of your behavioral restructuring," the counselor explained calmly, picking up a small remote control. "Your file indicates a severe, deeply ingrained physical and emotional fixation on another female. Standard talk therapy has failed to break the delusion. Therefore, we must rewire your brain's response system. We are going to pair your obsessive thoughts with a negative physical stimulus."
Paige's breath hitched. Aversion therapy. "Every time an image appears on the screen, you will be required to focus on it," the counselor said, stepping back behind the machine. "If your scan shows a positive emotional or physiological response, if your heart rate spikes in a way that indicates affection or desire, this machine will deliver a localized electric shock to your wrists. We will continue until your body learns to associate the fixation with pain."
"No," Paige whispered, a sudden panic exploding in her chest as she struggled against the wrist bands. "No, please, you can't—"
"Quiet," the counselor ordered, hitting a switch on the console. The machine let out a low, ominous hum, and the television screen in front of Paige blinked to life, casting a harsh, cold glow over her face. "Let us begin."
The television screen flickered, and the first image appeared. It was a generic photograph of a woman smiling, followed by a picture of two women holding hands on a park bench. Paige stared straight ahead, her chest heaving as she forced her mind to go completely blank, trying to keep her breathing steady.
Zap. A sharp, stinging jolt of electricity snapped against the skin of her wrists. Paige gasped, her muscles jerking involuntarily against the straps.
"Keep your focus on the screen, Paige," the counselor said coldly, making a notation. "Do not attempt to suppress your baseline vitals. The machine reads through the deception."
The screen flashed again, cycling through more photos; women embracing, women laughing together. Each time Paige felt a flicker of recognition or standard human empathy, the machine responded with another biting shock. Her wrists were already burning, the skin turning a raw, irritated red under the metal sensors. She clenched her teeth, tears of frustration prickling the corners of her eyes.
Then, the screen blinked.
Paige’s heart didn't just spike; it completely stopped.
Sitting right there on the screen, illuminated by the harsh, clinical light of the monitor, was Azzi. It was a candid picture of Azzi sitting on their bed in their old room, her curls falling loosely over her shoulders, looking up at the camera with that private, soft, beautiful smile she only ever gave to Paige.
The rush of love and longing that flooded Paige’s chest was instantaneous, and the machine punished her for it immediately. A violent, sustained shock ripped through her wrists, forcing her fingers to curl into tight, agonizing claws.
But Paige barely even felt the physical pain. An explosion of pure fury eclipsed everything else. Her mind flashed instantly back to her parents' cold, judgmental faces.
"Did they give that to you?!" Paige shrieked, her voice dropping into a guttural, furious tone that echoed violently off the concrete walls. "Did my parents give you that picture?! Did they?!"
The counselor didn't answer, his fingers moving calmly over the dials as the machine continued to hum, registering her explosive heart rate and sending another biting shock directly into her arms.
Paige thrashed against the vinyl chair, the straps digging deep into her skin, but she didn't care. She leaned as far forward as the restraints allowed, glaring at the counselor with a face twisted in absolute, protective rage.
"You are all sick!" Paige screamed, her voice cracking into a raw, powerful sob as she looked back at the image of her girl. "You are all completely sick in the head! How dare you use Azzi's picture for this shit?! You don't deserve to see her face!"
The machine jolted her again, a sharp, prolonged buzz meant to force submission, but Paige just bared her teeth, refusing to look at the screen. She stared directly into the counselor's cold eyes, her chest heaving violently as tears of rage ran down her face.
"Shock me!" Paige yelled, her voice vibrating with a terrifying, unbroken intensity. "Go ahead! Shock me all you want! It's never going to work!"
The counselor, completely unbothered by her defiance, reached over and twisted a dial on the console, turning the voltage up. "Let us see if your convictions hold when the reality of your sin is laid bare," he said flatly.
The television monitor blinked, cycling to the next image in the file.
Paige’s voice caught violently in her throat. The rage that had been sustaining her instantly fractured into something raw, agonizing, and entirely out of control.
It wasn't just a picture of Azzi. It was a photo from one of those quiet, perfect nights in their room. The lighting was soft, shadows dancing on the wall behind them. Paige had her hands gently cupping Azzi's face, her thumbs resting on her cheekbones, while one of Azzi’s arms were wrapped tightly around Paige's neck. They were caught mid-kiss, their lips pressed together with a tenderness that felt so sacred it hurt.
The machine registered the immediate spike in Paige's vitals and unleashed a massive, continuous current of electricity. The shock slammed through her wrists, violently locking her muscles and forcing a strangled gasp from her lungs.
But seeing that beautiful, deeply intimate memory dragged into the dirt of this cell made Paige go ballistic.
"No! Get out! Get your eyes off of us!" Paige screamed; a wild, animalistic shriek of pure hysteria and madness.
The pain didn't exist anymore. The restraint didn't exist. With a terrifying, adrenaline-fueled burst of panic and fury, Paige violently threw her entire body weight forward. The chair tipped over with a deafening crash, slamming onto its side against the linoleum. The sheer force of her momentum, combined with the angle of the fall, ripped the worn velcro straps completely off the armrests.
She was up in a second. Her wrists were bleeding where the metal sensors had scraped against her skin, but she didn't care. Paige lunged across the small room, entirely blinded by a psychosis of protective rage.
"Turn it off! Turn it off, you perverts! You sick, disgusting freaks!" she roared, her voice tearing to shreds as she threw herself at the television monitor, violently smashing her fists against the frame, trying to rip the screen right off the wall. "That's ours! You don't get to look at how she loves me! You don't get to see that! You don't get to have us!"
"Security to Aversion Room 3!" the counselor shouted, slamming his back against the wall in genuine terror as he scrambled to get away from her. "The resident has completely destabilized! Security!"
Paige whipped around, her hair tangled wildly across her face, her eyes wide, bloodshot, and entirely devoid of reason. She was hyperventilating, sobbing, and screaming at the top of her lungs, her words echoing like gunfire off the concrete walls.
"You think this is going to make me forget how she feels?!" Paige yelled, her chest heaving violently as she stepped toward the counselor, pointing a shaking, bloody finger at him. "I hate you! I hate all of you!"
—
The steel door opened abruptly, Nika, stepped out immediately.
"Hey, you," the staff member barked, pointing a finger at Nika. "Grab the first-aid kit from the duty desk and go into Bueckers' room. Staff said to clean her up. She made a mess of herself in aversion."
Nika’s heart dropped into her stomach. Clean her up? She didn't know what that meant, and the cold, detached way the staff member said it made her blood run cold. She didn't ask questions, though. She grabbed the plastic medical kit and practically bolted into Paige’s room, the door slamming shut behind her.
The room was dimly lit, and the smell of copper and sweat hung heavy in the air. Paige was sitting on the edge of the narrow mattress. She wasn't yelling anymore. In fact, she looked completely hollowed out; her shoulders slumped, her hair tangled wildly around her face, her eyes staring blankly at the concrete floor.
Then Nika saw her arms. Paige's wrists were raw and actively bleeding where the metal sensors had been violently ripped from her skin.
"Oh my god, Paige," Nika breathed, dropping the first-aid kit onto the bed and rushing to her knees in front of her. She gently took Paige’s hands, her fingers trembling as she looked at the wounds. "What happened? What did they do to you?"
Paige didn't look up right away. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was incredibly quiet, raspy, and completely checked out, as if she were speaking from a million miles away.
"Nika..." Paige whispered, her blank eyes slowly shifting to focus on her friend. "If they call your name... if they tell you to go to aversion therapy... you have to refuse. Don't let them take you in there. Just fight them. Force them to drag you somewhere else, but don't go into that room."
"Paige, you're shaking. Look at me," Nika urged, opening the kit and pulling out antiseptic wipes and gauze. She began to gently dab at the blood on Paige's right wrist, trying to be as soft as possible. "What is in that room? Why are your wrists like this?"
"They have a machine," Paige said, her voice completely flat, devoid of the rage she had felt just an hour ago. She was weak now, her body entirely spent. "They strap you down and shock you. They... they want to pair the pain with what you love."
Nika paused, her eyes widening as she wiped away a fresh layer of blood. "They tried to shock you when you thought about Azzi?"
"They had pictures, Nika," Paige murmured, a single, helpless tear falling, though her face remained completely expressionless. She looked so fragile, sitting there while Nika wrapped clean white gauze around her arm. "They had a picture of her in our dorm room. They kept shocking me, and I was screaming at them... and then they put up a photo of us. Of us kissing. In our room."
Paige let out a tiny, hollow breath that sounded almost like a broken laugh. "My parents gave it to them. I flipped the chair, tore the straps off, and I smashed the machine. I yelled at them."
Nika stopped wrapping, her chest tightening with a mixture of pride and absolute horror. She looked up at Paige’s pale, empty face, then down at the bloody gauze.
"It didn't work," Paige whispered, her eyes drifting back to the floor, her voice barely audible. "It's never going to work. But I'm so tired, I feel like my chest is completely empty."
"Hey," Nika said softly, catching Paige’s chin gently with her hand to make her look up. She finished taping the bandage secure on the second wrist. "You protected her. You fought for her, P. They didn't break you." Nika squeezed her hands tightly, her own eyes fierce with determination. "And I promise you, we are getting out of here soon."
Nika sat on the edge of the mattress as Paige slowly rolled onto her back, her strength completely gone. The adrenaline that had carried Paige through her outburst in the aversion room was entirely spent, leaving her looking smaller and more fragile than ever.
With a shaking, bandaged hand, Paige reached beneath the collar of her shirt and pulled out her locket. She brought the cold metal up to her lips, closing her eyes tightly as she pressed a desperate, lingering kiss to it.
"I can't do it, Nika," Paige sobbed, her voice cracking into a raw, breathless whisper. She let her arm fall back onto the bed, the locket resting against her chest. "My whole body hurts, and my brain... my brain can't handle it anymore. I’m so weak."
Nika shifted closer, her heart breaking as she watched her friend completely unravel. She reached out, gently smoothing the tangled blonde hair away from Paige’s forehead.
"You're not weak, P," Nika murmured softly, trying to inject as much strength into her voice as she could. "Look what you just did. You fought them off. You smashed their machine."
"But that was just today," Paige choked out, staring blankly at the ceiling as the tears kept flowing. "They are just going to push me harder tomorrow. They’re going to bring in something worse. They aren't going to stop until there's nothing left of me. I can't keep fighting a whole building, Nika. I'm going to lose her. They're going to make me lose my mind."
Nika didn't say anything right away. She just leaned down, wrapping her arms around Paige’s shaking shoulders, pulling her close to let her know she wasn't alone.
"They aren't going to break you, because I'm not going to let them have enough time," Nika whispered fiercely into her hair, her jaw tightening with determination. "Just lie still, rest your body, and let me worry about the everything else."
—
The click of a key turning in the lock broke the dead silence of the night. Paige barely stirred, her body still entirely spent from the afternoon, but her eyes fluttered open as a nurse walked into the dim room. Without a word, the nurse forced two small pills into Paige's hand and held a paper cup of water to her lips. Too exhausted and weak to fight, Paige swallowed them. Within minutes, darkness dragged her under, heavier than any normal sleep.
When she woke up, her head was spinning with a blinding, chemical fog.
She blinked against a searing, white light. The familiar concrete walls of her room were gone. She was back in the aversion room, but this time, they had prepared for her. Heavy, thick leather straps were locked tight around her chest, ankles, and her arms, pinning her completely flat and motionless against a chair. She couldn't even twitch her fingers.
"Let's try this again, Paige," the cold voice of the counselor echoed from the shadows behind the monitor. "Without the theatrics."
The screen blinked to life.
The images began to cycle, but this time, they didn't just let the photos sit there. As the candid pictures of Azzi alone in their dorm room appeared, followed by the deeply private photos of them kissing, the counselor began to speak over them in a low, relentless, clinical drone.
"Look at her," the counselor pressured, the machine delivering a steady, dull pulse of electricity to Paige’s wrists that felt like hundreds of needles pricking her skin. "Look at how she manipulates the camera. Look at the selfishness in her eyes. She doesn't love you. She used you to fulfill her own sick, disordered needs. She dragged you down into this filth and left you here to suffer the consequences while she's out there living her life."
The screen changed to the photo of them kissing on their bed; the memory Paige had tried so desperately to protect just hours before.
"This isn't love," the counselor’s voice cut through the fog in Paige's brain, dripping with cold disgust. "This is a parasite destroying a host. She is a sickness, Paige. She is the reason your parents don't look at you the same way. She’s the reason your siblings don’t have a big sister anymore. She is the root of every ounce of pain you are feeling right now. If she truly cared about you, she would have never touched you."
The continuous shocks buzzed against her raw skin, pairing the physical agony perfectly with the cruel, systematic destruction of her safest memories.
Paige was so entirely broken she couldn't even find the rage to scream anymore. The fury that had saved her that afternoon had been completely washed away by the medication and the relentless cruelty of the assault. She just lay her head back against the headrest, her throat tight, a quiet, broken sob escaping her lips as she stared helplessly at the screen. Her mind was too tired to fight the words, too weak to hold up the shield she had carried for so long, and as she watched Azzi's beautiful face twist under the counselor's criticisms, she felt a terrifying, hollow despair start to take root deep inside her chest.
The medication still held Paige in a tight, suffocating grip when the staff finally dumped her back onto the thin mattress of her room. The door locked with a definitive, echoing clang, plunging the tiny room into darkness.
Paige curled into a tight, trembling ball, pulling her knees up to her chest. The raw skin on her wrists throbbed with a dull, burning ache, but the pain in her mind was infinitely worse.
Desperate to survive the night, Paige pulled the hidden locket up to her lips, pressing it against her mouth until her teeth ached. She closed her eyes tightly and began to whisper into the dark, her voice a fragile, fractured thread.
"I love you," Paige breathed, her chest heaving with a quiet sob. "I love you, Paige. Don't listen to them."
She paused, swallowing hard, and closed her eyes even tighter, forcing herself to remember the exact cadence of Azzi's voice.
"I'm right here," Paige whispered back to herself, her voice shifting slightly as she tried to mimic Azzi’s soft, grounding tone. "I'm right here, P. They're lying to you. I would never leave you."
"It hurts so much, Azzi," Paige murmured in her own voice, a tear slipping down her nose. "My head hurts. They're trying to take you away."
"They can't take me," Paige whispered back, answering for the girl who wasn't there. "They aren't strong enough. Look at me, Paige. Just look at me."
In the pitch-black room, with her brain entirely fried from the shocks, the medication, and the psychological trauma of the day, the fragile line between memory and reality completely snapped. The room didn't feel like a prison anymore. The air felt warmer. The smell of copper and sweat seemed to fade, replaced by the faint, comforting scent of Azzi’s shampoo and perfume.
Paige blinked, her pupils dilated in the dark. Through the haze of her exhaustion, she didn't just imagine Azzi; she truly believed she was there.
She could feel the phantom sensation of a soft hand gently brushing the tangled hair away from her forehead. She could see the silhouette of Azzi’s shoulders sitting right there on the edge of the cot, looking down at her with those familiar, protective eyes.
"You came for me," Paige choked out, a sudden, overwhelming wave of relief washing over her broken features. She didn't feel weak anymore; she felt safe. She reached her bandaged hands out into the empty air, her fingers closing around nothingness, but to her shattered mind, she was holding onto the only person who mattered. "I knew you would. I told them you would."
"I'm always here, I love you so much, baby. Get some sleep." Paige's mind supplied for the illusion, her lips barely moving as she lay completely still, cradled entirely by the heartbreaking comfort of her own psychosis.
She pressed her cheek against the rough fabric of her pillow, convinced she was resting her head right against Azzi's chest. Shielded by the hallucination, Paige finally let her eyelids close, her breathing slowing down as she drifted into a deep, protected sleep, completely unaware that she was entirely alone.
—
The cafeteria was dead silent when Paige dragged her feet across the linoleum, holding her tray with weak, trembling hands. She looked completely hollowed out. Dark, bruised circles ringed her sunken eyes, her skin was a pale gray, and her hair was a tangled mess. She sat down next to Nika like a ghost, staring blankly at her food.
Nika’s heart twisted in her chest just looking at her. She reached out, immediately wrapping her hand around Paige's bandaged wrist, being careful of the raw burns underneath. "Paige... oh my god. Did they take you back there last night?"
Paige didn't look upset, though. In fact, a faint, terrifyingly vacant smile touched her cracked lips. She turned her hollow eyes to Nika, her voice a soft, airy whisper.
"Azzi came and visited me last night," Paige murmured, her expression completely detached from the bleak reality around them. "It was so nice to have her back. She sat right on my bed and held me. She told me she loved me. It made the pain go away."
Nika froze, the air leaving her lungs in a sharp gasp. She stared at Paige, her mind racing with absolute, pure terror. Azzi isn't here. Azzi is hours away. The realization hit Nika like a physical blow: the shocks, the medication, and the torture had completely fried Paige’s brain. She was hallucinating. She was breaking.
A cold panic erupted in Nika’s chest. We have to leave. We have to get out of this place immediately, tonight, she thought desperately.
But Nika looked at the fragile, glassy look in Paige’s eyes and knew she couldn't say that out loud. If she snapped Paige back to reality right now, if she tore down the one coping mechanism her shattered mind had built to survive, Paige might completely collapse. She didn't need a frantic escape plan thrown at her while she was this weak, she just needed to feel safe.
Nika forced her face into the softest, most reassuring expression she could manage, swallowing down the lump of fear in her throat. She squeezed Paige’s hand gently.
"That's... that's great, P," Nika said softly, her voice thick with a fierce, protective emotion. "I'm so incredibly happy she came to see you. I’m glad you have her back."
Paige nodded vaguely, leaning her head onto Nika's shoulder, letting out a small, contented sigh. Nika held her tight, staring over Paige's head at the staff by the door, her eyes burning with a dangerous, quiet resolve.
Nika waited until the post-breakfast transition, scanning the hallway until she spotted the counselor who had helped her track Paige down in isolation. He was carrying a stack of files, looking nervous as he avoided eye contact with the residents.
Nika stepped out of the line, ducking into a blind spot in the corridor near the staff supply closet. As he walked past, she reached out, grabbed his forearm, and yanked him into the cramped, dimly lit alcove.
"What are you doing?!" he hissed, his eyes darting frantically to the open door. "If someone sees us—"
"Listen to me," Nika cut him off, her voice a sharp, desperate whisper. She stepped into his space, her eyes fiercely locked onto his. "Paige is losing her mind. She's hallucinating. She's going to die down here if we don't get out, and I am not leaving her behind."
"Nika, I can't just open the doors," he stammered, pulling back. "The security protocols in the basement—"
"If Paige goes down, I’m taking you with us," Nika threatened directly, her voice dropping into a cold, unwavering register. "The second they bring me in for questioning, I will tell everyone exactly how you helped me see her in isolation. I’ll tell them how you helped me lie my way down here."
The counselor's face drained of color. He swallowed hard, his hands shaking against the files in his arms. He knew she meant it. "Tonight is impossible," he whispered urgently, leaning closer. "The head supervisor is on the night shift tonight. But... tomorrow night is different."
Nika kept her grip tight on his arm. "What happens tomorrow night?"
"Tomorrow is Wednesday. The night shift rotates," he explained, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "I’m scheduled to transport Paige to a midnight aversion session in the secondary wing. If you wait until then, I can falsify the transfer paperwork to include your name. I’ll bring you along as a peer restraint. I can use my badge to unlock the side exit near the parking lot. I’ll help you leave."
Nika stared at him, analyzing his face for any sign of a trap. He was terrified, completely compromised, and desperate to protect his own skin.
"Midnight tomorrow," Nika repeated, slowly letting go of his arm. "If you cross us—"
"I won't," he promised breathlessly, backing out of the closet. "Just... keep her quiet until then."
He slipped back into the hallway, disappearing into the crowd of staff. Nika stepped out a moment later, her chest heaving as she leaned against the concrete wall. They had a plan. They had a real, concrete way out.
But as she looked down the hall toward Paige's room, a cold weight settled into her stomach. Twenty-four hours. She just had to figure out how to keep Paige grounded, safe, and alive for another twenty-four hours.
The group therapy room felt suffocatingly small. A circle of residents sat in plastic chairs under the flat, humming lights, but Paige was barely present. She sat completely numb, her hands loosely folded over her wrapped wrists, staring blankly at a scratch on the linoleum floor. Her eyes were wide but entirely unfocused, fixed on a world only she could see.
The counselor ran a hand down her clipboard, her eyes landing on Paige. "Paige," she called out, her voice echoing coldly in the quiet room. "We were just discussing how accountability creates true freedom. What did you think about what your peer just shared regarding her own failures?"
Paige didn't move. The silence stretched so long that the other girls began to shift uncomfortably.
"Paige?" the counselor repeated, sharper this time.
Slowly, Paige’s head tilted up. Her face was empty and entirely stripped of her usual warmth. "I don't... it doesn't matter," she whispered, her voice incredibly raspy, barely carrying across the circle.
Nika, sitting three chairs down, gripped the edge of her seat so hard her nails dug into the plastic. Her stomach twisted into knots. The fact that Paige wasn't fighting back anymore was terrifying.
Hours later, the dinner bell rang, but Paige never made it to the cafeteria.
Nika slipped away from the line, ducking down the dim corridor and pushing open the unlocked door to Paige's cell. The room was dark, but the violent, muffled sound of retching instantly made Nika's blood run cold.
Paige was on her knees in the cramped bathroom corner, her small frame shaking violently as she threw up into the toilet. Her skin was a sickly, translucent white, slick with a cold sweat, and she was hyperventilating, her body completely rejecting the medication and the stress of the past forty-eight hours.
"Paige, oh god," Nika breathed, rushing to her side. She knelt in the dark, gathering Paige's tangled blonde hair back with one hand while gently rubbing her trembling back with the other.
Paige collapsed against the rim of the toilet, letting out a weak, pathetic sob. She was too exhausted to even wipe her mouth, her chest heaving as she closed her eyes against the blinding headache splitting her mind apart. "Nika... everything is spinning," she choked out, her voice a fragile, broken thread. "I feel so sick. I can't keep it down."
"I know, I know. Just breathe, P. I've got you," Nika whispered, her own eyes burning with tears as she grabbed a piece of rough paper towel, wetting it to press against Paige's burning forehead.
As she wiped the sweat from Paige's pale face, Nika looked at the raw, bandaged wrists and the exhaustion hollowed into her best friend's features. A fierce, desperate mantra started looping in Nika's own mind, the only thing keeping her from screaming down the hallway.
One more day. Just one more day. She adjusted the cool towel, pulling Paige close against her side to share her warmth. Just hold on for twenty-four hours, Paige. Tomorrow at midnight, we are running, and I am bringing you back to the real world.
—
The air in the unit was cold, but Paige was burning up, her body still fighting the residual nausea and the lingering toxins of the facility's medication.
She curled onto her side on the mattress, a violent shiver running through her frame. Her mind, pushed far past the brink of exhaustion, completely fractured once again. The concrete walls dissolved into the background as the trauma rebuilt her safer, gentler reality.
In the dark, Paige wasn't alone.
She could feel the distinct warmth of a blanket being pulled up over her shoulders, and then the comforting weight of a body settling onto the cot right behind her. To Paige's fried senses, Azzi’s arms were wrapping tightly around her waist, pulling her back against a warm chest.
"I've got you, P," a voice whispered in the dark. It was sweet, grounding, and completely real to Paige’s ears. "You're doing so good. I'm so proud of you for fighting for us."
A soft, broken sigh escaped Paige's lips. "It hurts so much, Azzi," she murmured into the empty room, her voice a fragile, slurred whimper. "I had to do another session today and they kept saying you don't love me. I could feel myself slipping away from you."
"They can't take you away from me," the phantom voice answered back, filled with a beautiful tenderness. "I love you more than anything. Just hold onto me. Close your eyes and listen to my chest. I'm not going anywhere."
In reality, the cot was completely empty.
Paige was entirely alone in the dark, her knees tucked tight to her chest. Her own hands, still wrapped in thick white gauze, were crossed over her chest, her fingers rhythmically rubbing her own arms and shoulders, trying to simulate the feeling of being held. She was stroking her own back, her lips moving silently as she supplied both halves of the conversation, her mind desperately working overtime to give her the comfort she needed to survive.
"You're safe now," Paige whispered to herself, her voice shifting to that softer, protective cadence as she rubbed her own trembling shoulders. "Your wrists will heal eventually. Just rest, baby. I'm right here. I love you."
Convinced she was tucked safely under Azzi’s chin, breathing in the imaginary scent of lavender and warmth, Paige finally let her eyes close.
—
The next morning, Paige sat in her own quiet world. She looked worse than the day before; her skin had a waxy, translucent look, and her eyes were wide, glassy, and completely detached from the room.
Nika watched her closely, her own heart hammering against her ribs. Twelve hours, Nika kept repeating to herself like a lifeline. Just twelve more hours until midnight.
Paige suddenly leaned across the table, a strange, breathless excitement animating her hollow features. "She visited me again last night, Nika," she whispered, her voice carrying an eerie, lightweight joy. "We were cuddling the whole night. She held me so tight. You have no idea how happy I am, I missed my girl so much."
Nika felt a cold shiver trace down her spine, but she kept her face carefully composed. She reached across the table and gently squeezed Paige’s bandaged hand. "I’m glad she was there to comfort you, P."
"But... she always leaves right after I fall asleep," Paige continued, her brow furrowing slightly as a flicker of confusion crossed her face. She looked down at her untouched breakfast tray, her voice dropping into an anxious, childlike whisper. "I don't know why she hasn't taken me with her yet. I told her how bad it is here."
Nika froze, her breath catching in her throat.
"Tonight, when she comes back, I'm going to tell her," Paige said, nodding to herself with a sudden, tragic certainty. A tear slipped down her pale cheek, though her glassy smile remained fixed. "I'm going to tell her to take me with her. I can't wait to go home, Nika. I'm telling her tonight that we have to leave."
Nika’s chest tightened with panic. Hearing Paige talk about asking an illusion to "take her away" sent a jolt of pure terror through her. Paige’s grip on reality was practically gone. If Nika let her wait for a hallucination that would never arrive, Paige would completely shatter by morning.
Nika gripped Paige’s hand tighter, leaning in close so their foreheads were almost touching, her voice fierce with a desperate, hidden truth.
"Paige, listen to me," Nika whispered urgently, her eyes locked onto her friend's vacant stare, trying to bring her back to reality. "You are going home. Okay? I promise you, you are leaving this place. Just hold on through today. Don't worry about tonight. You just have to trust me, okay?"
—
The door to the room clicked loudly, the sound cutting through the thick silence of the basement.
Inside, Paige was completely deep in her own world. She was sitting upright on the edge of the mattress, her eyes wide and fixed on the empty air right beside her. Her fingers were gently smoothing down the wrinkles of the blanket, her lips moving in a quiet, frantic whisper.
"We just have to wait a little longer," Paige murmured to the empty space, a frail, glassy smile on her face. "I'll tell them to go away. We're leaving tonight, right? I can’t wait to be back in our room."
The door swung fully open. The counselor stepped into the room, his face pale and sweating under the dim hallway lights, his hands trembling as he held his clipboard. Right behind him was Nika, her jaw set, her eyes burning with a desperate, sharp focus.
Paige blinked, the light from the hallway breaking her trance. She immediately threw her arm out over the empty mattress, as if shielding someone from view.
"Go away!" Paige cried out, her voice raspy and panicked as she glared at the counselor. "Leave us alone! Get out!"
The counselor took a panicked step back, his eyes darting to the hallway. "Nika, quiet her down," he hissed under his breath. "If the supervisor hears her screaming—"
Nika didn't wait. She rushed past him, dropping to her knees in front of Paige. She grabbed Paige's arms gently but firmly.
"Paige, Paige, look at me. Shh, be quiet," Nika whispered fiercely, her voice cutting through the panic in the room. She leaned in so close their foreheads almost touched. "Listen to me very carefully. Grab everything you brought here right now."
Paige's eyes floated wildly, trying to look past Nika's shoulder at the empty bed. "But I’m spending time with Az—"
"Azzi is taking you home," Nika interrupted, her voice dropping into deep certainty that snapped right through Paige's delusion. Nika squeezed her hands tight, looking directly into her glassy eyes. "She’s waiting for you at home, Paige. We are getting out of here right now. But you need to stand up and come with me."
The word home seemed to spark recognition deep within Paige's fried mind. The vacant smile vanished, replaced by a sudden, desperate clarity. She nodded weakly, her hands shaking as she reached into her shirt to ensure the locket was secure before getting off the bed to grab her backpack, and then gripping Nika’s arm like a lifeline.
"Let's move," the counselor whispered frantically from the doorway, his keys jingling in his trembling hand.
The three of them stepped out into the dim hallway of the basement ward. The counselor kept his head down, holding his clipboard tightly against his chest, while Nika walked close to Paige’s side, keeping a firm grip on her elbow. Paige moved like a shadow, her steps slightly sluggish from the exhaustion, but her eyes were fixed straight ahead, clinging to the promise Nika had just made her.
They walked past the first intersection, blending in perfectly as if heading toward the secondary wing for the therapy. But as they reached the end of the hall, the counselor took a sharp, sudden left turn, leading them down a narrow hallway that pointed toward the facility's emergency exits.
Nika’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs, but she kept her face completely blank, marching forward.
At the end of the hall stood an exit door marked with a red security light. The counselor reached into his pocket, his fingers shaking as he selected a brass key from his ring. He slid it into the lock, turned it with a muffled click, and pushed the door open to the cool, crisp night air.
"My shift just ended," he whispered frantically, checking his watch. "My car is parked right in the first row of the employee lot. Walking out now looks completely normal. We just need to walk calmly. No running."
They stepped out into the dark parking lot. The fresh air hit Paige's face, and she let out a tiny, breathless gasp, her glassy eyes looking up at the open sky for the first time in months. They maintained a steady, even pace across the asphalt, matching the counselor’s steps until they reached a unassuming silver car.
He unlocked the doors with a quick beep. "Get in. Fast."
Nika pulled Paige into the backseat, and the counselor slid into the driver's seat, starting the engine without turning on the headlights until they cleared the main driveway.
"Get down on the floorboards. Lay completely flat," he ordered, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror as he pulled out onto the main road.
Nika pulled Paige down into the cramped space behind the front seats, pressing her back against the floor. She wrapped her arms tightly around Paige, shielding her body with her own. Paige didn't fight it; she just held onto her locket, her breathing shallow as the steady hum of the tires against the pavement signaled their growing distance from the facility.
For thirty agonizing minutes, nobody spoke. The car twisted through dark country roads before the glowing lights of a small, quiet town began to filter through the windows. The counselor pulled the car into the dark, shadowed corner of a gravel parking lot adjacent to a small train station.
He killed the engine and turned around in his seat. "We're here. You can get up."
Nika and Paige sat up, rubbing their cramped limbs. The counselor reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick envelope, handing it over to Nika. "There’s five hundred dollars in here, enough for two train tickets, food and a hotel for a few nights, as soon as they realize you’re gone you’ll be put on the missing persons list. You need to get yourself off of it as soon as possible, understand?"
Nika took the envelope, her fingers tightening around it. "Thank you," she breathed, a genuine wave of relief washing over her.
"Go. Don't look back," he whispered.
Nika grabbed Paige’s hand, opening the door. They stepped out into the cool night, the gravel crunching softly beneath their shoes as they walked calmly but quickly toward the glowing platform of the train station.
The air inside the small train station was warm and smelled faintly of old coffee and floor wax. Nika kept her arm hooked securely through Paige’s, guiding her toward the fluorescent glow of the ticket counter. Paige walked beside her in a daze, her eyes darting around the empty lobby, her fingers still nervously clutching the locket hidden beneath her shirt.
A tired looking clerk looked up from behind the glass partition as they approached.
"Two tickets to Washington, D.C., please," Nika said, her voice remarkably steady as she slid a portion of the cash from the envelope across the counter. "The next available train."
The clerk nodded sleepily, tapping at a keyboard before printing out two paper tickets. Nika scooped them up along with her change, keeping a tight grip on Paige as they walked out onto the platform. Within ten minutes, the low, powerful rumble of the tracks signaled the train's arrival. The metal doors slid open, and Nika guided Paige up the steps and into the quiet, dimly lit passenger car.
They found a pair of empty seats near the back. The train let out a deep hiss, and with a gentle jolt, it began to roll forward, slowly pulling out of the station and into the dark expanse of the night.
As the town lights began to fade through the window, the reality of what they had just accomplished seemed to finally break through the fog in Paige's mind.
Paige turned in her seat, her eyes suddenly welling up with tears. Without a word, she threw her arms around Nika’s neck, burying her face into her friend's shoulder. She held on with everything she had, her whole body shaking with a quiet, releasing sob.
"Thank you," Paige choked out, her voice raw but filled with emotion. She squeezed Nika tightly, her bandaged wrists resting against Nika's back. "I love you so much."
Nika wrapped her arms around Paige, holding her tight as the clicking of the train tracks filled the quiet cabin. For the first time in weeks, Nika let out a full, unburdened breath, resting her chin on Paige's head. "I've got you, P," Nika whispered softly into her hair. "We're safe now. We're going home."
—
The pale, weak light of a cold November morning filtered through the window, casting long, gray shadows across Azzi’s bedroom. She stirred under her blankets, the room freezing despite the radiator’s low hum. For months, waking up had been the hardest part of her day; the brief, cruel second of forgetfulness before the weight of Paige’s disappearance settled right back onto her chest.
A sharp vibration from her phone on the nightstand broke the silence.
Azzi rolled over, squinting against the screen's glare.
Caroline: Azzi, are you awake?
Caroline: I need you to go get Ines and bring her into your room. Tell me the second you guys are together. Please.
Azzi sat up quickly, her heart skipping a beat. A cold wave of dread washed over her. Caroline’s texts were never like this. Why would she need Ines? Why the secrecy?
Too anxious to reply first, Azzi threw off her blankets, her bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. She practically ran down the short hallway to Ines’s room, knocking urgently before slipping inside. Ines was still half-asleep, rubbing her eyes in confusion as Azzi grabbed her arm.
"Ines, get up. You need to come to my room right now," Azzi whispered, her voice tight with panic.
"What? Azzi, what's going on?"
"I don't know, just come on."
Azzi pulled a bewildered Ines back into her bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them. They sat side by side on the edge of the mattress. With shaking fingers, Azzi unlocked her phone and typed out a reply.
Azzi: Ines is in my room. What’s going on?
An agonizing minute passed. The bubble indicating Caroline was typing appeared, disappeared, and appeared again.
Then, two images came through in rapid succession.
Azzi tapped the first photo. It was a digital flyer, bordered in stark, official red lettering: MISSING PERSONS REPORT. Underneath, looking out from a photo taken about a year ago, was Paige. Her bright smile, her familiar eyes; all of it slapped next to a cold list of physical descriptors and a contact number for the state police.
Azzi’s breath hitched, a high, strangled sound escaping her throat. "No..." she whispered. "No, no, no."
She swiped to the second image. It was another missing persons report, identical in format. But the face staring back was a girl Azzi had never seen before in her life. Dark hair, sharp features, intense eyes. The name printed in bold letters at the top read: NIKA MÜHL.
Before Azzi’s brain could even begin to process the name, a final text from Caroline popped up at the bottom of the screen.
Caroline: They went missing together. I'm so sorry Azzi.
The phone slipped from Azzi's hand, clattering uselessly against the mattress.
"Azzi? What is it? Let me see," Ines pleaded, her voice rising in panic as she reached for the phone.
Azzi couldn't answer. She couldn't breathe. The room felt like it was spinning violently out of control. Wherever Paige had been all this time, she was gone now, lost somewhere with a stranger named Nika.
Azzi’s hands flew to her face as a violent, gut-wrenching sob tore through her chest. She collapsed forward, her forehead pressing against her knees as she completely broke down, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Ines reached down and picked up the phone, her fingers trembling as she looked at the illuminated screen. The two missing persons reports stared back at her. She gasped, a cold dread instantly wrapping around her chest as she stared at Paige’s familiar, bright smile next to the bold red letters, and then at the dark-haired girl, Nika, who had vanished right alongside her.
"Oh my god," Ines breathed, her voice cracking as the sheer weight of the horror sank in. She dropped the phone onto the mattress and immediately threw her arms around Azzi, pulling her close. "Azzi, oh my god. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."
Azzi clung to Ines’s shirt, her fingers clawing at the fabric as if she were trying to keep herself from completely spinning off the edge of the earth. She was hyperventilating, her chest heaving with violent, ragged gasps as the dam broke, and she dissolved into a devastating, uncontrollable sob.
"My baby..." Azzi wailed, the sound raw and entirely broken, echoing painfully against the walls of the bedroom. "Ines, my baby is gone. Where is she? Where did she go?"
"Shh, I've got you. Just breathe, Azzi, please breathe," Ines whispered fiercely, rubbing Azzi's back as she rocked her back and forth, her own tears beginning to spill over.
"Look at the report," Azzi choked out, her voice rising in a panicked, hysterical spiral. She shook her head violently, burying her face into Ines's shoulder, her tears soaking through the fabric. "That town... that's hours away from her house! Why was she all the way out there? She’s not safe, Ines. Who is Nika? Why were they together?"
Azzi was an absolute mess, her entire body shaking so violently that her teeth chattered. The months of not knowing where Paige had been had suddenly culminated in this terrifying, active nightmare.
"We're going to find her," Ines promised desperately, squeezing Azzi as tight as she possibly could, trying to be the comfort her friend so desperately needed as Azzi sobbed herself raw in the dark. "We're going to figure this out, Azzi."
"I can't be here," Azzi choked out, her voice rising in a panicked, breathless spiral as she tried to pull away from Ines’s embrace. She was hyperventilating, her hands clawing frantically at her own hair. "Ines, I need to go home. I can't just sit here!"
"Azzi, stop, look at me," Ines pleaded, grabbing her hands. "Just breathe, please, just try to calm down for a second so we can think."
"I can't calm down!" Azzi sobbed, her face completely wet with tears as she shook her head violently. Then, she stopped, her eyes landing on her phone lying on the bed. A desperate, fragile look crossed her face. "My phone. Ines, grab my phone."
Ines immediately snatched it up. "Okay, okay. I have it. What do you need?"
"Go to my voice memos," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking as a fresh wave of grief washed over her. "Go to the very first one. Play it. Just... please, hold it up to my ear."
Ines quickly swiped through the screen, finding the app and tapping the very first recording in the list. She gently leaned forward and held the speaker of the phone directly up to Azzi's ear.
A quiet static hummed for a second, and then, Paige’s voice filled the space between them. It was warm, clear, and so vibrantly alive that it felt like a ghost had just stepped into the room.
“Hi, baby,” Paige laughed softly through the speaker. “You’re probably never even gonna hear this because this seems like a weird app to use, but you’re in the shower right now and I’m just sitting on your bed bored out of my mind, so... I figured, why not record something for you?”
Azzi squeezed her eyes shut, a soft, broken whimper escaping her lips as she pressed her head closer to the phone.
“I was just looking at you before you went in, and I don't know, I just wanted to say that you are so beautiful, Az. Like, actually insane. I’m the luckiest girl in the world,” Paige’s voice continued, lighthearted and sweet, completely untainted by the nightmare of the last few months. “You’re so smart, and you have the prettiest smile, and I love you so much. Even when you make me carry your bookbag across campus. Seriously, what do you even keep in there? I love you anyway, though.”
Azzi let out a shattered, wet laugh through her sobs, her chest aching so violently she could barely draw breath. She could picture Paige sitting on her mattress, talking into the phone with that stupid, beautiful grin on her face.
“You’re probably gonna turn the water off soon, so I should stop rambling. I love you, baby. Can’t wait to kiss you when you get out.” The recording paused for a brief second, and then Paige made a soft, exaggerated kissing sound right into the microphone “Mwah.” before the audio cut to silence.
Azzi completely collapsed against Ines, her forehead burying into her friend’s shoulder as she cried harder than she ever had before, her heart breaking into a million pieces over the voice of the girl she loved.
With her chest aching and her mind spinning out of control, Azzi reached for her phone with trembling fingers. Her parents had no idea she even had a phone here; it was strictly against academy rules; but in this moment of absolute terror, those restrictions didn't matter. She was stripped bare, reduced to a frightened, desperate child who just wanted her mother.
She typed in her mom’s number and pressed the phone to her ear, her breathing coming in shallow, ragged gasps as the line rang.
"Azzi?" her mom's voice answered, her tone instantly filled with a mix of surprise and immediate concern.
"Mom," Azzi gasped out. The word came out as a broken, choked-up sob. "Mom, please. You have to come get me."
"What's wrong? Why are you crying like that?" her mom asked. Her voice wasn't cold or disapproving; instead, it was warm and deeply worried.
Azzi completely disintegrated on the line, her voice rising in a high, frantic wail that sounded incredibly small.
"I can't be here, Mom! I can't stay here anymore!" Azzi begged, clutching the phone hard. She sounded so helpless, reaching out for her mother the way she used to when she was little. "Please, just come pick me up. I need to come home. Please, Mom. I need you. Just come get me, please..."
Hearing the tone of her daughter's voice, Katie didn't ask questions about the forbidden phone or press for details. The maternal instinct to protect her child completely took over.
"Azzi...breathe. It's okay. I’m right here," her mom said, her voice soft, soothing, and entirely focused on comforting her. "Listen to me. Pack up whatever you need to. I am getting in the car right this second. Just stay inside and keep yourself safe until I get there, okay?"
"Okay," Azzi whispered, a tiny, fragile breath of relief escaping her lips. "Thank you, Mama."
"I'll see you soon, honey. I love you," her mom said gently before hanging up.
Azzi let the phone slide onto the bed, pulling her knees back to her chest and leaning heavily against Ines as she cried, waiting for the long drive home to begin.
—
With her mom on the way, Azzi’s panic shifted into a frantic, hyper-focused energy. She pulled a suitcase from the closet and began packing, but she wasn't just grabbing her own clothes.
She went straight for the items Paige had left behind during their time together. She carefully folded Paige’s clothes, still holding onto the faint, fading scent of her, and packed them at the very bottom of the bag. She gathered a stray notebook full of Paige’s drawings, Paige’s sheets, and a soft gray blanket they had shared on cold nights. Only after Paige’s things were completely safe inside did Azzi pack a suitcase of her own things.
By the time she finished her hands were still shaking, and her eyes were red and swollen from crying.
Azzi carried her suitcase down the quiet, polished hallway toward the main office to officially check out. Ines walked right beside her, carrying her second suitcase, offering a quiet, steady presence.
When they entered the office, Azzi’s mom, was already standing near the front desk. She looked anxious, her eyes instantly locking onto Azzi’s pale, tear-stained face.
Before Katie could even speak, sister Margret stepped out from behind the desk. She looked at Azzi with a profound, gentle sadness in her eyes.
"Oh, Azzi," she said softly, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on Azzi's trembling shoulder. "We saw the news report this morning. We are so, so incredibly sorry."
Azzi’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of tears welling up in her eyes. She just nodded mutely, unable to find her voice.
"We completely understand why you need to go home and be surrounded by your family right now," the sister continued, turning her warm gaze to Katie, then back to Azzi. "We are praying for her, dear. We pray she is found safe and sound, and that you get to see her again very soon. May god watch over both of you."
"Thank you, Sister," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking as she wiped a tear from her cheek.
Katie stood by the door, a look of deep confusion crossing her face. She had no idea who this missing girl was, what report the nun was talking about, or why her daughter was so utterly devastated over it. But as she looked at Azzi; who seemed so small, fragile, and completely broken, Katie chose to set her questions aside. This wasn't the time to interrogate her.
Katie stepped forward, taking a suitcase from Ines’ hand. She wrapped her free arm tightly around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her close against her side.
"Let's go home," Katie said gently, offering a polite nod to the sister and Ines as she guided her sobbing daughter out into the crisp November air toward the waiting car.
—
The six-hour drive back home was a quiet, agonizing stretch of highway under the pitch-black November sky.
Azzi curled up in the passenger seat, pressing her forehead against the cold glass of the window as the headlights of passing cars blurred through her tears. She was miserable, her chest aching with a hollow, physical pain. She sobbed until her throat was completely raw, then she would quiet down into a silent, shaking state of shock, only for the reality to crash over her again, starting the cycle of weeping all over again.
Katie sat in the driver's seat, keeping her eyes fixed on the dark road ahead. She didn't press for answers. She didn't ask who the missing girl was, or what had happened to break her daughter so completely. Hearing the grief radiating from the passenger seat, Katie knew that any questions would only push Azzi over the edge. So, she just let her cry, the quiet hum of the heater and the soft, rhythmic clicking of the turn signals the only sounds accompanying Azzi's heartbreak.
By the time the car finally pulled into their familiar driveway, it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. The neighborhood was dead silent, frosted over with a thin layer of late-autumn chill.
Katie killed the engine, got out, and gently opened the passenger door. Azzi was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that she could barely stand. Her limbs felt like jello. Katie grabbed the suitcases from the trunk with one hand and wrapped her other arm securely around Azzi’s waist, guiding her up the front steps and into the quiet warmth of the house.
They walked up the stairs to Azzi's bedroom. The room was exactly as she had left it; safe, familiar, and still.
Katie dropped the bags by the closet and turned down the blankets on the bed. She helped Azzi slip off her shoes and gently guided her onto the mattress. As Azzi curled onto her side, pulling her knees tight to her chest, Katie pulled the thick comforter up over her trembling shoulders, tucking her in securely.
For a moment, Katie just stood by the edge of the bed, looking down at her daughter. Azzi looked so incredibly young in the dim light, her eyelashes still wet, her face pale and spent.
Katie reached down, gently smoothing a stray curl away from Azzi's forehead.
"We’ll talk about what happened in the morning," Katie whispered, her voice soft and entirely devoid of judgment. "Just try to sleep now. I'm right down the hall."
She gave Azzi's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, turned off the bedside lamp, and quietly stepped out, closing the door behind her to let the quiet safety of home wrap around her broken daughter.
Took me a bit of time, but chapter 11 is nearly done (just have the end scene to write and the proofread to do!)
So as always, here's your snippet!
The chapter songs are Rivers And Road by The Head And The Heart and (honorable mention cause i can't put it on spotify 🥲) Pure by Mac Miller – unreleased (you can listen to it on SoundCloud or youtube i think)
Hi everyone! Honestly, I didn’t think I would finish this story, but I was so positively overwhelmed by the love you showed for part one that I knew I had to write this. I hope Pt. 2 lives up to your expectations!
(P.S. This chapter is much better paced than the first one since I am finally done writing exams and no longer in a time crunch! I might even go back and edit part 1 soon!)
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Azzi raised her hands and pushed Paige, shoving her just a little bit harder than she actually needed to, desperately trying to hide the sudden trembling in her fingers. Paige was too close. Azzi felt like she was drowning in her; her scent, her voice, her proximity. And getting to the living room far from Paige seemed like a good way to try to float again. So Azzi started stepping away. But maybe Azzi wasn’t as desperate to be saved as she thought, because Paige easily grabbed her wrist, and Azzi let herself be pulled back into deeper waters.
“They're for you, Az,” Paige murmured. She spoke in that rare, quiet tone she only used when she stripped away all her usual dramatics and loud exclamations. It was just soft, raw, and completely pure.
Azzi felt her breath stop. She wasn’t just too close to Paige anymore; together, they were hovering right on the edge of a truth that had remained unspoken for the past few months. There was something going on between them, something more than just acquaintanceship, rehabilitation work, or friendship. Azzi liked being around Paige more than any of those labels should grant. Every Tuesday she fixed her clothes and touched up her makeup before she would head down to the clinic floor at 6.00. She stopped packing her healthy meal prep lunches so that she’d have an excuse to go out for lunch, and if she ended up eating with a certain blonde it was just purely coincidence.
But, Azzi also knew two other very important things. The first being that everyone liked being around Paige. Everyone, whether they’d admit it or not, wanted Paige’s attention. Everyone wanted to bathe in her sunlight. Even Caroline, who constantly complained about the crumbs Paige left on the physio beds, could never manage a convincing scowl when Paige smiled at her. So, Azzi had rationalized that what she was feeling was just the inevitable, unavoidable effect of the classic Paige charm. This theory was certainly supported by the second thing Azzi knew: all of her past relationships were with men, and so Azzi Fudd is definitely not a lesbian.
"Caroline told me about UConn," Paige whispered, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. "I’m so damn proud of you. I literally cried while she was telling me."
Azzi stared at her for a fraction of a second. Paige is crying, Paige Bueckers who Azzi has only seen cry once in the entirety of the past nine months is crying, is crying for Azzi.
‘Ah’ Azzi thinks, a sudden realization hitting her, ‘maybe Paige is drowning too.’
Her need for distance completely dissipates, replaced by the need to be as close as possible, to grab Paige's body and consequently give her something she can float with. She throws her arms around Paige’s neck, pulling her in so tightly she hinders her own breathing.
"Loser," she whispered into Paige’s ear, her voice thick with emotion. "Can't believe you cried" and she really can't believe that she cried or that she’s crying again.
When did this happen? When did they get close enough, when did they start caring so much? Was it in the 5 minutes they got during each of the appointments? Or was it in their shared lunches? Or maybe their more recent texting? Or maybe it was four years ago, when she met a beautiful stranger who spilled ketchup on her favourite jacket in a trashy bar.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Paige, open the door!”
The sudden, aggressive pounding on the front door shattered the silence. They broke apart instantly, blinking against the sudden rush of cool air between them.
Azzi wiped her face quickly, her heart hammering against her ribs as she looked toward the entryway. “Were you expecting someone?” Azzi asked.
————————
Paige wasn’t expecting Azzi to show up at the middle of the night (though she’s definitely not complaining that she did), and she sure as hell was not expecting Zoe to be standing outside of her door black out drunk. Or High. Well whatever sent her to the stars, she was definitely there. She looked like she could barely stand straight. For the first time since knowing her, Paige actually thought Zoe looked like she genuinely needed one of her stupid wellness retreats.
“Zoe,” Paige said, her voice dropping into a tense, but baffled tone. “What are you doing here?”
“Paige I need help” said Zoe while stumbling across the threshold, she walked past Paige and face planted directly onto the living room couch.
Paige closed the front door slowly. ‘What is my life right now?’
“Zoe what’s going on? What happened? Why are you so drunk… or high?
“My life is over…” Zoe wailed, rolling over to stare at the ceiling with wide and glassy eyes. “My dad found out about my offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. I was moving funds from the company to finance this crystal-infused matcha start up…and apparently, it’s illegal”
Paige blinked, her jaw dropping. “Illegal? Like…a tax loophole”
“Illegal like money laundering, Paige!" Zoe gasped, sitting up dramatically. “My dad didn't want to send me to jail, but he fired me. He took away my black card, froze my checking accounts, and I can't even open my penthouse doors. My code doesn’t work anymore. I just spent my last dollars on cheap tequila.”
Azzi slowly walked out of the kitchen, her arms crossed, staring at her former business partner in absolute disbelief. “Wait. You got caught money laundering?”
Zoe’s head snapped toward the kitchen, finally noticing her. “Azzi! Thank god you're here.” Instead of being shocked to see her ex-partner at her ex-girlfriend's apartment at 11:00 PM, Zoe just pointed a desperate finger at her. “Can you help me? Do I… do I have any more equity left in Revite? Anything at all?”
“The equity you sold three months ago?” Azzi deadpanned. “No, Zo. You sold it all. You signed the paperwork.”
Zoe let out a sigh, slapping her hands against her forehead. “Oh my god, this is a nightmare.” Her face suddenly turned a slight shade of green, and she gripped her stomach. “Excuse me for a second, I need to go to the bathroom and puke my guts out.”
She scrambled off the couch, running a hand over her face as she stumbled toward the hallway bathroom, slamming the door behind her. A second later, the sound of retching echoed down the hall.
Azzi stood frozen in the center of the living room. Slowly, her head turned toward Paige.
Paige was already staring back at her, her blue eyes wide, her hands hovering awkwardly at her sides. The heavy, romantic tension that had been suffocating the kitchen just five minutes ago was completely vaporized, replaced by sheer absurdity.
Azzi let out a breath, her voice a flat, stunned whisper. “I worked with a money launderer.”
Paige’s shoulders began to shake as a breathless laugh bubbled up her throat. “I dated a money launderer.”
They stared at each other for one more silent second before both of them completely lost it. Paige clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her wheezing laughs, bending over at the waist, while Azzi covered her face, her shoulders shaking with silent, hysterical laughter.
“She laundered money for matcha,” Paige hissed through her fingers, her eyes watering all over again.
“Crystal-infused matcha!” Azzi whispered back.
Azzi left shortly after. The apartment had felt too crowded, and she felt like she needed to give Paige and Zoe some space.
By the time she unlocked the door to her own place, the adrenaline had faded. She pulled out her phone, staring at the screen for a long moment before finally sending a text.
Azzi: yyou survive the criminal?
The reply came almost instantly.
Paige: barely. she threw up agaan :(
Paige: she’s stayin in the guest room. says shes gonna be here for like a muonth until she can sell her stock in some other randim company and get her footing back.
Azzi stared at the bubbles as they popped up and vanished.
Paige: az? you still awake?
Azzi didn't reply. She tossed her phone onto the nightstand, sliding into bed and staring up at the dark ceiling. The silence of her room felt deafening compared to the chaos that was Paige's apartment.
She lay there, the wheels in her mind turning relentlessly, tracking backward through the years.
It was easy to laugh at Zoe now, to joke about the crystal-infused matcha and the Cayman Islands, but as Azzi stared into the dark, a wave of reality hit her. Zoe wasn't a bad person. In fact, when Azzi was at her absolute lowest, right after her second injury at UConn, Zoe had been the only one who looked at her and saw potential. Every investor in New York had slammed the door in Azzi's face when she tried to pitch Revite. They saw a twenty-something girl with a ruined knee and a pipe dream.
But Zoe had listened. Zoe had been interested, and Zoe had signed the check that breathed life into Azzi's dream.
I owe her everything, Azzi realized, the thought sinking like a stone in her stomach. Revite wouldn't exist without Zoe. And now, Zoe was in a genuinely hard position, stripped of her family's wealth, her job, and her home.
Azzi rolled onto her side, swallowing hard. It didn't matter if Paige and Zoe were completely over. It didn't matter if they weren't in love anymore, or if Paige had been looking at Azzi with an intensity that made her knees weak. Zoe was her friend, her co-founder, the person who saved her career. Stepping into Paige's space, letting herself feel whatever was blooming between them…it just wasn't right.
And besides, she was lying to herself if she thought she even fit Paige's type.
The last person Paige Bueckers had chosen to date was Zoe Fernandez. Zoe was high-fashion, high-maintenance, and apparently, a white-collar criminal. Compared to all that, Azzi was, well, boring. She was absolutely, nothing like Zoe.
Azzi still didn't entirely understand how Paige and Zoe had come to be together in the first place, but the fact remained: Zoe was the standard. There was no way Paige could ever look at Azzi the way she had looked at a girl like Zoe.
Azzi closed her eyes, letting out a long, shaky breath into the quiet room. Her phone screen stayed dark. Azzi needed ease, questioning her sexuality, questiong her feelings for Paige, and questioning the complication of Zoe; was nowhere near easy. So she pushed her phone further from her and pulled up her blanket.
It was better this way. Whatever unsaid truth had been hovering between her and Paige in that kitchen, it had to stay unsaid. There could never really be anything between them.
————————
“I’m telling you, I’ve officially lost my goddamn mind,” Paige groaned, dropping her head into her hands.
She was sitting on the bench at the edge of the practice court, her tennis racket abandoned beside her. Across from her stood Nika, her performance coach and long-time friend. After nine grueling months of physical rehab, Paige was finally back on the court training with Nika again.
Nika crossed her arms and looked down at Paige with a mix of irritation and amusement, truly a rare combo only Nika could manage. “You’ve also lost all fucking your talent apparently, you haven't been able to hit baseline all morning, whats going on?”
“It’s Azzi,” Paige confessed, her voice muffled by her palms. She finally looked up, her blue eyes wide and frantic. “I think I scared her off, Nika. She’s being so dry. It’s been five days. Five days of one-word texts. I feel literally schizo.”
Nika raised an eyebrow. “Azzi? Rich, hot, muscle mommy, beautiful physio angel sent from the heavens, CEO, Azzi?”
“Yes! And she probably thinks I’m an actual psychopath now,” Paige cried, gesturing wildly. “She was in my apartment when Zoe showed up.”
Nika blinked. “So? Didn’t she work with Zoe, she already knows her.”
“That’s the problem! Azzi had to be around Zoe because they were business partners, but I actually chose to date her. Azzi must think my taste in women is a literal biohazard.”
Nika let out a soft snort, twisting her racket on the court floor. “To be fair, P… Zoe was a lot. Even before her whole white-collar crime era. What were you thinking?”
“I don’t even know,” Paige muttered, slumping back against the bench. She stared blankly at her sneakers, trying to rationalize a relationship that now felt like a completely different lifetime. “At the time, it just made sense. Zoe was pretty. Zoe was rich, so she had her own things going on and she didn't suffocate me by obsessing over my career or treating me like a celebrity.”
“And she didn’t want to be public either,” Paige continued, her voice dropping into a quieter, defensive tone. “Cause she was convinced she was 99% straight and didn’t want the media thinking she was lesbian. Some of the media is still somehow entirely convinced that I’m basically straight too because Zoe wanted everything completely locked down. We always just did our own thing. We barely saw each other because of my travel schedule and her weird ass life. Half the time, it didn’t even really feel like we were together anyway. It was just easy when we were in the same city; we got to fuck without having to worry about NDAs and that was it.”
Nika nodded slowly, listening intently. She had been there for the entirety of the Zoe timeline, watching from the sidelines, the relationship was just so outlandish she hadn’t really developed an opinion on it, and like Paige just sort of acted like it didn’t exist.
“I don’t know what to tell you dude…you need to find a way to talk to Azzi and remind her you aren’t crazy if she isn’t tryna make conversation on text”
“So you want me to corner her”
“Basically yeah, show up somewhere she can’t dodge you”
————————
Azzi stared at her laptop screen. For the last five days, her entire existence had boiled down to a single, brutal exercise in self-restraint: limiting her responses to Paige.
Every time her phone buzzed, a stupid, involuntary spark would catch in her chest. She’d look down, see a text from Paige about some absolute nonsense or memes. She’d count to ten, and then press down on the delete key for an embarrassing amount of time to erase the long reply she already wrote, and type a single, dry sentence instead.
Keep the boundary. She’s your ex-client. She’s Zoe’s ex. She doesn’t like you. You are probably not lesbian.
"Az, please save me," Caroline groaned, leaning dramatically against the doorframe of Azzi’s office. She was holding a stack of files in her hands, looking thoroughly miserable. "I have a date this Friday with this guy, right? But I haven't been on a date for so long dude, and I don’t want dinner to be awkward. So do you wanna go on a double date to make it less painful for your best friend, whom I know you love and care for, and often say you would do anything for"
Azzi blinked, a sudden, desperate thought flashed through her mind. Maybe if she went on a date, she wouldn't have to go through the daily humiliation ritual of overthinking about Paige.
"I'll go," Azzi said grittingly.
Caroline froze, she stepped forward closer to Azzi like it was her vision deceiving her rather than her hearing, her eyebrows practically shooting into her hairline. "Wait. What?"
"I'll go with you," Azzi repeated, more sure now, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, trying to sound completely nonchalant. "It’s probably good for me to go out and about sometimes. But don’t get too excited, this will probably be the last time."
"Don't get too excited about what?"
Azzi’s heart dropped to where her ass met her desk chair.
Paige was standing right behind Caroline in the doorway, holding a tray of two iced coffees. She looked bright and beautiful.
————————
Azzi Fudd is so gay. She is so incredibly gay, specifically she is so deeply, and embarrassingly gay for Paige Bueckers.
It had been nine whole months of this torturous, slow-burn nonsense, and they still weren’t together. Ever since Paige’s rehab program technically ended last week, Azzi had been moping around the upper office all day. She didn't come down to the clinic floor anymore, she didn't help out with stretching, and worst of all, she had stopped bringing the daily iced coffees.
Caroline had watched enough "your daily $7 coffee could pay for your car down payment" financial freedom videos on TikTok to realize she had to take immediate action. She needed her daily caffeine fix subsidized by Azzi Fudd; who was her best friend, yes, but also her boss, and significantly wealthier than her.
So, Caroline had sought out the most annoying, finance-bro type guy she could find on Hinge, knowing he would certainly have an equally annoying best friend. Boom. One dinner with them, and Azzi would remember she actually completely hates men, causing her finally run into Paige’s arms.
It was a great plan, but it was going even better than expected. First of all, Caroline didn’t even have to beg Azzi much to agree to the setup. Actually, she hadn’t had to beg at all.
And now, the universe had delivered a perfect bonus: Paige was standing right here, holding coffee, looking like a deer that didn’t know it was about to be run over. Caroline’s inner demon, who definitely watched too many Spanish soap dramas, rejoiced. It was time to rub Azzi’s upcoming date all over Paige’s face, and speed up her confession.
Caroline turned around, flashing Paige a massive, innocent smile. “Oh, nothing! Just that Azzi’s letting me set her up on a blind double date with a guy this Friday!” She looked back and forth between them. “I think it’s a great idea, right? Unless... anybody has any particular reason why Azzi shouldn’t go?”
Paige’s jaw tightened for a fraction of a second. She looked at Azzi, her blue eyes flashing with a mix of hurt, panic, and sheer disbelief. But instead of cracking, Paige’s defense kicked right back in. She slapped a smirk onto her face, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
“Azzi should definitely go,” Paige said, her voice dripping with artificial amusement as she walked past Caroline and placed the iced coffees onto Azzi’s desk. “I mean, honestly? I think it would be hard for her ass to score a date on her own anyway.”
————————
“Nika, I need you to kill Caroline!” Paige yelled into the phone, the moment she burst through the doors of the clinic.
“I’m a performance coach, Paige, not a hitman. But honestly I could totally see that as like a true crime episode you know, like a tennis racket serial killer, but anyways what the fuck did Caroline do to you?”
“She ruined my life!” Paige groaned, dropping into her car seat and dropping her forehead to her steering wheel. “I went into the clinic. I had coffee. I was literally two seconds away from asking Azzi to grab lunch with me, and Caroline drops a fucking bomb. She set Azzi up for a double date.”
“Okay? And what did you do?”
“I panicked, Nika!” Paige cried, throwing her hands in the air. “Caroline looked right at me and asked if anyone had a reason why Azzi shouldn’t go out with some random guy. And instead of saying something normal, my stupid mouth opened and I told them Azzi should definitely go because it would be hard for her to score a date on her own.”
Nika let out a sharp crack of laughter, shaking her head. “Oh, you’re an idiot. I told you to go there to make her think you weren't a weirdo, not make her think you’re a douchebag.”
“It’s not funny!” Paige muttered, her chest heaving as the adrenaline faded into raw, heavy frustration. “I was hurt. I don’t want to see anyone but Azzi, and she’s just out here volunteering to go out with men? I’m so confused. I was so confident she liked me even if she was a little weirded out recently. She was definitely looking at me in a typa way in my kitchen? She was holding me to, like the full on lesbian U-Haul hug. I know she feels it too. So why the hell is she fucking around and playing games with me?”
Nika let out a slow breath. “Maybe she’s straight, Paige, you never know.”
“No,” Paige said instantly, her tone deadpan, dropping any trace of her usual dramatics. “She definitely isn't straight. There is zero percent chance she is straight.”
Nika raised an eyebrow, that Paige could somehow sense through the phone. “Well, does she know that?”
————————
Azzi was going to kill herself. Actually, no, she was going to kill Bradley, and then she was going to kill herself. Not in a romantic, star-crossed, Romeo-and-Juliet kind of way. More like a ‘you are actually the worst person on the planet and I am doing the global population a massive favor by removing you from it’ kind of way.
They were forty-five minutes into dinner at a ridiculously loud, overpriced restaurant that Azzi could be enjoying if Bradley had not stopped talking about his macro-nutrients once.
“See, the thing about raw egg whites in the morning,” Bradley said, leaning across the table, “is the bio-availability. If you’re not tracking your metabolic rate before your fasted cardio, Az, you’re basically wasting your time in the gym.”
“Fascinating,” Azzi deadpanned, staring at her untasted salmon like she hoped it would magically come back to life and flop on her plate to provide her with some sort of entertainment.
Across the table, Caroline was not doing any better with Bradley’s friend, Chad. Chad was currently showing Caroline a video of his personal record deadlift on his phone, making loud grunting noises right there at the restaurant table for no reason. Caroline’s face had completely lost all its usual mischief, she looked, exhausted, and deeply, deeply regretful.
Azzi kicked Caroline hard under the table. Caroline gasped, her eyes snapping up.
“Bathroom,” Azzi mouthed, her eyes shooting daggers. “Now.”
“Hey, we’re just gonna go to the bathroom for a sec,” Caroline said smoothly, practically scrambling out of the booth.
The second the heavy wooden door of the bathroom clicked shut behind them, Azzi turned around, crossing her arms. “Caroline these aren’t just finance bros, they’re finance bodybuilding bros, this is a whole nother level of douchebagness, what the hell were you thinking?"
Caroline collapsed against the marble sink, burying her face in her hands. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I swear his Hinge profile said he worked in capital ventures! I didn't know they were also competitive bodybuilders, Azzi, I swear to god!”
“The man asked the waiter if the kitchen could weigh his broccoli,” Azzi hissed.
“Let’s just go back out there, pretend I got a fake text from my landlord about a pipe bursting or something, and dip. Deal?”
Azzi let out a long, defeated sigh, rubbing her forehead. “Fine. Let’s go.”
They walked back out into the dimly lit, chaotic restaurant corridor. Azzi was so busy mentally rehearsing the excuse they came up with in the bathroom that she didn't notice the freshly mopped tile right near the kitchen doors. There was no yellow caution sign.
Her foot hit the slick sheen of water that probably had some remnants of soap left which made it extremely slippery.
Snap.
A sudden, agonizing burst of white-hot pain shot straight up her left leg. Azzi’s eyes widened, a sharp gasp catching in her throat as her balance completely vanished. She barely caught the edge of a nearby service station with her hand before she landed completely on the ground, her right ankle rolling completely inward.
“Oh, nice,” Caroline whispered, immediately leaning down and grabbing Azzi’s arm. She was smiling, keeping her voice low for the passing waiters. “Commit to the bit, I love it. Tell them you think you broke it so we can leave right now.”
Azzi was hyperventilating, the color completely draining from her face as she clutched the edge of the station tighter. A cold sweat broke out across her forehead. “Caroline,” she choked out, her voice raw and strained. “I’m not acting. I really can’t walk. I can't move it.”
Caroline’s smile dropped instantly. Her eyes darted to Azzi’s foot, which was already beginning to visibly swell against her flats. “Oh shit. Oh, shit. Okay. Okay, don't move.”
After settling her on a nearby chair, Caroline scrambled back to the dining room, and came back with the most logical, but equally disgusting solution. Bradley and Chad loomed over Azzi, both looking like handsome squidward in a tight polo shirt.
“We got a downed athlete!” Bradley announced loudly, causing three tables of diners to turn around. He looked down at Azzi with intense, professional seriousness. “We need to transport her to a vehicle immediately. Chad, remember we have to preserve our posture.”
“Right,” Chad grunted, stepping into position. “Can’t strain the erector spinae. Friday is lower-body hypertrophy day.”
Before Azzi could even open her mouth to protest, the two bodybuilders hoisted her up between them. Because they were terrified of compromising their lifting form or throwing out their lower backs (which was impossible since they were built like Dwayne the Rock Johnson), they refused to just carry her like normal human beings. Instead, they lifted her completely flat like a starfish over their heads, holding Azzi like the finale lift from Dirty Dancing.
Azzi was suspended six feet in the air, floating above the restaurant, staring helplessly at the ceiling tiles while Bradley and Chad power-walked her past the bar.
“Keep your core tight, Az!” Bradley yelled up at her. “Don’t let your pelvis tilt!”
From five feet behind them, a distinct CLICK-FLASH went off.
Azzi snapped her head around, horrified. Caroline was walking backwards toward the exit, her phone held high, a look of guilt mixed with comedic disbelief on her face as she captured the entire moment on camera.
“Caroline, I will fire you!” Azzi screamed from the ceiling. “I swear to god, delete that right now!”
“It’s for the clinical file!” Caroline yelled back, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “It's medical documentation!”
When they finally got back to Azzi’s apartment, Azzi was lying flat on her living room couch, biting down on a throw pillow to keep from crying.
Caroline’s playful demeanor was entirely gone. She was in full Lead Physical Therapist mode, her hands gentle but incredibly precise as she carefully handled Azzi’s foot.
“Well?” Azzi wheezed, pulling the pillow away from her face. “Give it to me straight, doc.”
Caroline let out a long, sympathetic breath, sitting back on her heels. “It’s bad, Az. You have a Grade 3 ankle sprain.”
————————
It was now the next day. Azzi was trapped on her bed, staring blindly at the wall, desperately needing the glasses she had left on her desk at the office. The contacts she wore to her date last night were her last.
She absolutely refused to call Caroline. Caroline started looking so guilty last night after she fully processed what happened to Azzi, and it was suffocating; she had spent hours pacing around the living room, aggressively fluffing Azzi’s pillows and apologizing. Plus, Azzi literally could not look at her face without vividly visualizing Bradley, Chad, and the Dirty Dancing lift. The trauma was too fresh.
And it wasn’t like she needed an excuse to call Paige, but Paige really was the only other person besides Caroline who had the security code for her personal office.
Azzi opened FaceTime. The phone buzzed once before Paige’s face filled the screen.
“Hey,” Azzi muttered.
Paige squinted at the screen. “You look rough.” She didn’t say it in a mean way, just honestly, just noticing.
“You look ugly,” Azzi said meanly, her defenses immediately flaring up.
Click.
Paige hung up.
Azzi let out an irritated breath, rolling her eyes as she immediately hit the FaceTime button again. Paige answered on the third ring, her expression completely blank now.
“I need you to do something for me,” Azzi said, getting straight to the point.
Paige leaned back against her chair's headrest, feigning deep thought. “Hmm… let me think about it… yeah, no.”
“Why are you being mean?”
“I’m not being mean.”
“Yes, you are,” Azzi insisted, frowning.
“Because…” Paige started, stopping herself before the words could completely leave her mouth. She couldn't exactly admit out loud that she was still feeling sour and wallowing in self-pity over the whole blind date situation. She cleared her throat, shifting her gaze away from the camera. “Whatever. What do you need me to do?”
“I left my glasses at the office. Can you pick them up for me and drop them off at my house?”
Paige let out a dramatic, breathy laugh, her blue eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Yeah, for sure, definitely. Also, on the way, do you want me to fly to France and pick up a soufflé for you, too?... Why the fuck can’t you get your own glasses?”
Without a word, Azzi flipped her camera and slowly tilted her phone camera downward, panning past her sweatpants to reveal her right leg that was purple and swollen around her ankle.
“Because of this.”
Paige’s entire demeanor shifted in a millisecond. She leaned so close to her camera Azzi saw her forehead in high definition. “What the fuck did you do to your leg?”
“Grade 3 ankle sprain, and back up from the camera please” Azzi said, reversing the camera back to her face. “Can you get my glasses or not?”
“Yeah. I’ll grab them.”
Exactly twenty minutes later, Azzi was sitting on her couch when a loud, thud-thud-bang started, it sounded like it was coming from downstairs directly below her, near her living room wall. Right where the window was.
Azzi stared at her bedroom door in disbelief. No. Paige wouldn’t.
Thud.
Yes, Paige definitely would.
Azzi picked up her phone. The moment Paige picked up her call, Azzi started. “So, I heard someone aggressively banging at my window. That isn’t you, right? I should probably be calling the police, right?”
“What the fuck, don’t call the police!” Paige’s voice came through the speaker, sounding completely out of breath. “Of course it’s me. I’m trying to get in!”
“Why didn’t you just call me to ask where the spare key was?” Azzi asked, rubbing her temples.
“Bro, are you a fucking grandma? Why would you have a spare key outside your house?” Paige yelled over the wind.
“Because I don’t want dumbasses climbing through my window! Get down before you get hurt. I didn’t fix your leg for nine months just for you to get injured doing idiotic shit.”
“Fine! Where's the key?”
Azzi bit the inside of her cheek, a highly specific, evil thought forming in her brain. “It’s underneath the second big stone from the porch. Wait… actually, maybe the fifth one. But it could also be the seventh. Actually, maybe eleven or thirteen, too.”
“Wow. Thanks for such a specific answer,” Paige muttered sarcastically.
Azzi hung up the phone with a satisfied click, leaning back into her pillows.
Outside, Paige let out a heavy sigh, looking down at the landscaped path of large stones lining Azzi’s front walkway. She dropped and squatted down, looking at the rocks.
Paige decided to trust her gut. She skipped the second stone entirely and went straight for the fifth one, tipping the heavy rock over. Nothing but dirt. She frowned, moving back to the second. Empty. She crawled on her knees to the seventh, then the eleventh, aggressively lifting them up, her fingers getting completely coated in dark, damp soil.
She was currently digging around the base of the thirteenth stone, a streak of dirt wiped across the front of her pristine white t-shirt, when a voice broke the quiet afternoon air.
“Hey, Paige.”
Paige snapped her head around, still on all fours. Standing on the sidewalk was Miranda, Azzi’s next-door neighbor. And right beside Miranda was Cookie; the extremely small, chihuahua that Azzi frequently dog-sits. Cookie immediately let out a high-pitched, annoying bark. Paige hated Cookie because the dog was single-handedly responsible for at least four canceled hangouts over the past year, and even when she would convince Azzi that she would just come over and help her dogsit, Cookie was always fighting Paige for Azzi’s attention. Honestly, she didn’t even know how the dog managed to compete (and often win against her), chihuahuas were objectively ugly, and the spawn of the devil.
Paige gritted out a smile. “Hey, Miranda!”
Miranda blinked, looking at Paige’s mud-stained hands and knees. “Whatcha doing there?”
“I was… checking the structural integrity of the soil for the stones,” Paige lied smoothly, slapping her hand against the dirt. “Yeah. There’s a lot of… integrity here.”
“Ohh.”
“Yeah,” Paige sighed, standing up and wiping her hands on her pants. “Um, actually, Azzi is in a pickle. She’s stuck inside with a really bad ankle sprain, and I’m trying to get in, but I couldn’t find the spare key.”
“Ohhh, the spare key!” Miranda smiled warmly, clapping her hands together. “I actually picked it up a while ago to put her delivery inside when she went to Connecticut. I totally forgot to give it back! Here, let me just grab it from my kitchen.”
Paige froze.
What was the chance Azzi Fudd knew exactly where that key was and had done this entirely on purpose.
Miranda hurried back a minute later, dropping the silver key into Paige’s palm. “I hope Azzi’s okay!”
“Yeah… she will be,” Paige muttered, her voice dripping with incoming vengeance, before she remembered something, “Hey, Miranda?”
“Hmm?”
“You don’t happen to remember… which stone the key was under before you took it? Just so I know where to put it back when I'm done.”
Miranda tapped her chin. “Ahh, it was the fifth one.”
She had been right. Her gut had been completely right. Paige knew Azzi.
“Perfect. Thanks, Miranda,” Paige smiled tightly, turning toward the front door.
Azzi was lying on her bed, her injured leg propped up on a pillow. The second Paige walked into her line of sight, Azzi’s eyes darted straight to the massive, dark soil stain spreading across the front of Paige’s white shirt. Azzi’s lips twitched violently, her cheeks flaring as she fought back a massive, victorious smile.
“The key wasn’t under the stones,” Paige said, her voice dangerously calm as she stopped at the edge of the bed. “But I ran into Miranda. She said she had the key.”
Azzi’s fake-innocent eyes widened. “Ohhh, right. I completely forgot she took it.”
“Yeah, right…” Paige deadpanned, tossing the glasses case directly onto Azzi’s stomach. “You’re such a bitch.”
“Hey! I’m injured,” Azzi protested, snatching the glasses and placing them securely on her nose. She looked up at Paige through the lenses, her dark eyes gleaming. “You have to be courteous to the patient.”
“Where was the courtesy when I was injured?” Paige countered, crossing her arms.
“Well, you’re the one who calls me a princess,” Azzi smirked, leaning back into her pillows with absolute satisfaction. “So I deserve special treatment.”
“Whatever, bro,” Paige muttered, slumping down into the armchair across from the bed, she didn’t want soil to get on Azzi’s sheets. “How did the princess even break her back…or, I guess, her ankle…then?”
Azzi’s smirk instantly vanished. Her face went entirely blank. Slowly, she turned her head away from Paige, burying her mouth and nose directly into the plush fabric of her throw pillow, letting out a muffled, incoherent grumble.
“What?” Paige asked, leaning forward, her blue eyes narrowing. “I couldn’t hear you while you were eating the pillow.”
Azzi pulled her face out of the pillow just enough to look at her, her voice flat and stubborn. “I said, I’m not telling you.”
“Ohh, okay then,” Paige said, getting up from the chair, taking two short strides and snatching the glasses off of Azzi’s face. “You don’t get your glasses.”
“What?” Azzi’s head snapped up.
“What, what?” Paige mocked.
“Bro, just give them to me.”
“Okay, just tell me how you got hurt.”
Azzi glared at her through her now blurry vision. “Why do you care?”
“I ended my photo shoot early to pick up your damn glasses,” Paige pointed a dirt-stained finger at her, “the least you can do is tell me how the fuck you fucked up your leg.”
Azzi let out a long, defeated groan, burying her face in the pillow one last time before rolling over to face the room. “It was on the stupid double date.”
Paige’s chest tightened, a sour, bitter taste flooding her mouth. The double date. She immediately pictured some ultra-pretentious, candlelight dinner at a place that required a suit jacket. She imagined Azzi wearing heels since that’s the reason she probably fell. Paige hated this random dude even more now. In fact, she immediately started plotting petty revenge. Maybe she’d pull the classic unlimited pizza ordering prank on his apartment. But then again free pizza isn’t really a punishment. ‘What if I order fifty pizzas to his house, and instead of getting mad, he donates them all to a homeless shelter? Then Azzi’ll think he’s like the male version of Mother Teresa, and they’ll get married and make heterosexual, non-IVF babies, and I’ll jump off a cliff.’
Paige forcefully shook the thoughts out of her head, keeping her face blank as she waited for Azzi to continue.
“The two guys Caroline set us up with, Bradley and Chad, they were so annoying,” Azzi said, her voice dripping with exhaustion. “Caroline and I went to the bathroom, and we were talking about how to get out of the mess. When I got out, I slipped and twisted it. Caroline thought the fall was part of my grand plan to get away from them, but then she realized I actually fell.” Azzi’s lips twitched, a look of pure, lingering trauma crossing her face. “And then… Bradley and Chad picked me up by my legs and shoulders and literally hauled me over their heads to carry me to the car, cause they didn’t want to hurt their erector spinae.”
Azzi reached for her phone, tapping the screen a few times before turning it toward Paige. “Caroline took a picture.”
Paige stared at the screen. There was Azzi, looking completely miserable, floating six feet in the air, held up by two men who looked like actual brick walls.
The silence lasted for exactly one second before Paige completely lost it. She fell back into the armchair, howling with laughter, her feet kicking out as she clutched her stomach. “Oh my god! No way! No fucking way, Az!”
“It wasn't funny!” Azzi yelled, though her own cheeks were flushing red. “I was a human barbell, Paige… and stop rubbing dirt all over my chair!”
After a solid two minutes of breathless wheezing, Paige finally wiped a tear from her eye and calmed down. She looked at Azzi, her expression softening as her stomach rumbled, reminding her of the time.
“Did you eat?” Paige asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t put weight on it for the next week,” Azzi muttered, gesturing to the ice pack. “So I can’t cook right now. And I can’t exactly carry delivery up and down the stairs on my own.”
Paige frowned. “So were you just planning on starving today?”
“No, Carol’s gonna come in like two hours after she finishes work and she’ll bring me food.”
Paige wanted to say, ‘you should’ve called me, I’d bring you food on time for as long as you’d need me to.’
“It’s already two o’clock,” Paige said, standing up and grabbing her car keys out of her pocket. “I’ll go grab food. What do you want?”
Azzi blinked, and then blinked again, and then “hmmmm’d” for at least five minutes, but Paige knew better than to interrupt her; Azzi was the most indecisive person she knew. Finally, “Hmmm. Maybe that Thai place on Kenmare?”
“Kk. You want the fried rice, right?”
“Yeah, the green curry one.”
Paige made a face like she smelled rotten eggs, while heading toward the door. “Of course you’d order the greenest option.”
“Wait before you go, grab some clothes from my closet and change, you’re so dirty”
Thirty minutes later, the front door clicked open again. Paige marched back into the house wearing Azzi’s white shirt and grey sweatpants, the spicy aroma of Thai food trailing behind her. She walked into the bedroom, setting the takeout containers on the nightstand.
But as Paige started opening the lids, she noticed Azzi had a strange, conflicted look of hesitation on her face.
“What?” Paige asked, pausing. “What is it? Are you not craving this anymore? Because I can go get something else, it’s just going to take more time. So can you please try to have a few bites of this so you aren't starving by the time I come back?”
“No, no, it’s not that,” Azzi said softly, looking around the bedroom. “It’s just… I’ve been in bed all day. It would be nice to sit on the couch, or literally anywhere else. And I guess I also don’t want to risk dropping food all over my bedsheets.”
“Yeah, shit, sorry…” Paige blinked, rubbing the back of her neck. “I totally forgot about that. For sure, let’s eat on the couch.”
“Okay,” Azzi said, shifting her weight. “Can you pass me my crutches?”
Paige let out a soft snort and puffed out her chest, stepping up to the side of the bed. “Bro, you don't need crutches when you have me.”
Before Azzi could protest, Paige crouched down on the floor right next to the mattress, turning her back to Azzi and tapping her own shoulders. “Ok, hop on.”
Azzi stared at the broad expanse of Paige’s shoulders, her heart doing a sudden, dangerous patter against her ribs. “Paige, you can’t carry me. I’m heavier than you.”
“Bruh, don’t worry, I’m fine,” Paige laughed, shaking her head. “Plus, I’ve been bulking and I’ve gained like twenty pounds, so that’s like… at least fifteen pounds of pure muscle. Come on, get on.”
Paige was an idiot. But Azzi still hesitated for a fraction of a second. The smell of the food was amazing, her ankle throbbed, and Paige was right there, solid and steady. Slowly, Azzi shifted forward, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck and crawling onto her back.
Paige gripped the back of Azzi’s thighs, locking her in place, and stood up with a grunt.
“You good?” Paige asked softly, her head tilted slightly back toward Azzi.
Azzi buried her face slightly into the crook of Paige’s neck. “Hmmm,” Azzi murmured, tightening her grip just a little bit more.
Holy shit, Paige was holding Azzi.
This was probably the closest they had ever been. Azzi was radiating heat where her chest pressed firmly against Paige’s back, and she felt even warmer where Paige gripped the backs of her thighs. Being this close, Azzi's signature coconut-vanilla scent washed over Paige. It was the exact same fragrance Paige caught hints of whenever they walked close together, the same perfume she had asked to take home from her photoshoot last month and may or may not have been spraying on her own pillow every night before going to sleep.
A sudden thought hit Paige: if she could sleep next to the real Azzi, she would never need to spray her pillow again. She could have the real thing right beside her, the authentic warmth that her pillowcase could never replicate, because the perfume was only perfect when it was on Azzi's skin.
Paige mentally shook herself. She needed to lock in. She absolutely could not drop her right now, especially if she ever wanted the opportunity to carry her like this again.
Paige rose up, and in that instant, Azzi remembered something she often forgot: Paige was a professional athlete. Paige was six-foot-one of lean muscle. Paige was strong. Really strong.
Azzi felt Paige’s back muscles contract beneath her chest, heard the low, quiet grunt that came from deep within Paige’s torso, and felt the sudden, firm pressure of Paige's fingers gripping her thighs. Azzi felt butterflies, but this time she let the feeling happen. She was already tired and exhausted with her injury, and being against Paige like this was the comfort she had unknowingly been looking for since she fell. So no, she didn't tighten her stomach like she normally did when she felt like this around Paige, hoping to stop the movement of whatever was fluttering inside of her. Instead, she found herself wishing her staircase had an infinite number of steps, just so she could stay close to Paige like this a little longer.
So much for trying to get rid of her feelings.
When they reached the end of the staircase, Azzi noticed a suitcase by the front door.
“What’s that?” Azzi asked, nodding her head toward the entryway.
“It’s a surprise for later,” Paige murmured, carefully pivoting toward the living room. “First, let’s get you comfy on the couch and fed.”
True to her word, Paige set her down with surprising gentleness and laid out the food. But when Paige proudly pulled a container of plain chicken tenders out of the takeout bag, Azzi just stared at them, baffled. Paige was such a kid. She watched everything on her iPad, drank hot chocolate instead of coffee, and somehow managed to order chicken tenders from literally any restaurant she visited, regardless of the cuisine.
Azzi decided to intervene. She scooped up a massive portion of her own food. “Paige, if you don’t try new things, you won’t know if you like them. Come on, take a bite.”
“Bruh, I don’t want any of that green stuff,” Paige complained, turning her nose up.
“Paige!” Azzi glared at her with full authority.
“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were my Mom.”
“Fine. If you want to act like a kid, you’re going to get treated like a kid,” Azzi deadpanned. She gathered a generous amount of rice onto her spoon and leveled it at Paige’s face. “Here comes the choo-choo train, bitch.”
Before Paige could duck, Azzi clamped her left hand firmly around Paige’s jaw and shoved the spoon straight into her mouth.
Paige’s eyes widened in sheer shock. She sputtered, fighting back a cough as she aggressively forced herself to swallow the bite. But surprise, surprise, it didn’t taste bad at all. In fact, it was pretty good.
“You mean the choke-choke train!” Paige gasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her blue eyes watering. “What the fuck, Azzi?”
“It was good, wasn’t it?”
“It was okay, I guess,” Paige muttered. She chewed thoughtfully for a second before her face suddenly lit up, her eyes snapping back to Azzi. “Wait, Azzi! I just realized something!”
“What?”
“It’s called a ‘choo-choo train’ because they want the person to chew-chew!” Paige pointed excitedly at her own mouth, making exaggerated, chomping motions. “Get it? Chew-chew?!”
Azzi blinked, “Oh, shit. I actually never thought of that.”
“I know.” Paige instantly puffing out her chest, using a ridiculously posh, sophisticated British accent. “You must admit, I am quite the intellectual.”
Azzi couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. Deciding to humor her, she cleared her throat and tried to reply with her absolute best, equally terrible British impression. “You truly are a scholar, Ms. Madison Bueckers. And with that massive intellect of yours, would you please offer me the reason as to why there is a suitcase currently residing at my front entrance?”
“Ahh, a fascinating query!” Paige countered smoothly, gesturing with her chicken tender. “You see, while I was out procuring our edibles –our nibbles, if you will–” Azzi snorted loudly into her rice “I realized just how entirely helpless you are. Quite comparable to a sad, shivering little dog on the street, really. And that thought ruffled my feathers entirely the wrong way. How could I leave a lady in such distress? Thus, I halted my journey, sped back to my own estate, and hastily packed my belongings. All so that I might temporarily lodge with you at your home.”
Azzi completely dropped the accent, her jaw hitting the floor. “WHAT?”
Paige’s theatrical posture melted instantly. She dropped her gaze to her lap, her normal voice returning as she nervously rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move in for the week. You know... so I can help you. Look after you.”
Azzi stared at her, her face blanking into a deadpan expression. “Look after me? Paige, I wouldn’t even trust you to take care of a plant.”
“Bro, what? I helped you look after Miranda’s dog like ten billion times. And I’m literally the only reason Cookie is still breathing after you tried to straight-up murder her!” Paige sneered.
Azzi opened her mouth to argue, but stopped herself because, unfortunately, it was completely true. Paige was good with Cookie, and she was also entirely responsible for saving Azzi from a lawsuit. A few weeks ago, Azzi had been eating a double-chocolate muffin, and Cookie had been staring up at her with such longing, pathetic puppy eyes that Azzi had actually broken off a piece to give to her, completely forgetting that dogs couldn’t eat chocolate. Paige had literally swatted it out of her hand mid-air before it could hit the floor.
For however childish Paige could be, she was also incredibly dependable. She was responsible.
Azzi watched her as she attacked another chicken tender, and a quiet wave of appreciation hit her. Paige had shown up to her grueling rehab appointments every single day with a massive smile on her face, entirely intent on keeping everyone else’s spirits up. Azzi knew the sheer volume of pressure Paige was under. She knew how ruthlessly the media prodded into her personal life, and she knew exactly how devastating it was to suffer a career-threatening injury right at your absolute peak.
But Paige always smiled.
Sometimes, Azzi wondered if little Paige had smiled like that, too, back when the basketball was taken from her hands and replaced with a tennis racket. Or, more accurately, when little Paige had voluntarily dropped the basketball and picked up the racket, because even as a kid, she already understood what she had to do. Not just for herself, but because of what she owed her family.
It was in quiet moments like these that Azzi was sharply reminded that Paige was older than her. That one singular year between them suddenly felt like a decade. Sometimes, Paige just seemed so entirely solid. So strong, so steady, so dependable.
Azzi looked at her and felt a sudden, distinct pang of regret that Paige had ended up in an individual sport. It was a genuine shame she had never gotten to play basketball, or any team sport, really. Because Paige would have made the absolute best captain. She would have been the best teammate, the exact kind of player every single person would want in their corner when the game was on the line. Azzi wanted her in her corner. She wanted Paige here, living with her. But then she remembered.
“Isn’t Zoe living with you right now?” Azzi asked, her voice dropping as she looked up at Paige. “You can’t just leave your own apartment and move in here.”
“Bro, I don’t even talk to Zoe,” Paige countered instantly, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t even see her most days. She just stays locked in the guest room, and all I hear is her aggressively yelling on the phone about auctioning off her vintage Chanel bags. Honestly, this is probably good for me, too. I was starting to feel suffocated in my own place.”
Azzi searched Paige’s face, looking for any sign of hesitation, but found none. She let out a long, slow sigh, the last of her defenses officially crumbling.
“Ok, fine. We can be roommates, I guess,” Azzi grumbled, though she couldn't completely stop the tiny bit of relief from seeping into her tone. She pointed a finger at Paige. “But you have to stop bringing up Miranda's dog. You literally promised you wouldn't.” As she spoke, Azzi instinctively glanced around her own living room, shifting her eyes toward the corners of the ceiling as if hidden cameras were recording them, waiting for a reality TV crew to pop out from behind the curtains and incriminate her for the muffin incident.
Seven days later
Living with Paige for the past seven days in one word has been easy.
Paige was a surprisingly good cook. Azzi couldn't help but think back to their first morning together when Paige had asked her how she liked her eggs. Now, eggs were a deeply sacred subject to Azzi; her daily morning omelette was easily one of the things she looked forward to the most, but she had long since accepted that absolutely nobody could replicate the exact, hyper-specific way she liked it.
So, her expectations had been low on that first day when she sat on the kitchen counter, and carefully talked Paige through the steps.
But on the second morning, Azzi woke up to the savory, buttery aroma of vegetables. She called out for Paige, who jogged upstairs and carefully carried her down to the kitchen. When Azzi took her first bite of the omelette, she froze. It was good. Like, really good. There was a perfect ratio of vegetables, everything was diced to the exact right size, and not a single edge of the egg was overcooked.
When a baffled Azzi asked her how she made it so perfectly, Paige had just rubbed the back of her neck, sheepishly admitting it was actually her third attempt of the morning, and that she had forcefully choked down the first two burnt trials so they wouldn't go to waste.
It was the same for the rest of the week. Paige consistently woke Azzi up with breakfast. Then, the second she came home from her grueling tennis practices with Nika, she immediately whipped up a lunch for Azzi that managed to be both healthy and taste even better than what Azzi usually made for herself. Caroline always brought over dinner for the both of them because she still felt guilty about the injury. Azzi found herself missing Paige’s flavours whenever she ate dinner. Paige cleaned up every single dish without being asked, while Azzi, her assistant, sat next to her on the counter to dry the dishes with a towel and stack them beside her so Paige could put everything away.
Most importantly, Azzi found that she could be entirely, brutally honest with Paige whenever she needed help moving around. Experiencing a disabling injury usually made Azzi feel incredibly anxious, but with Paige, it never felt like being trapped in the window seat of an airplane, where you'd rather suffer in silence and dehydrate yourself just to avoid bothering the strangers sitting next to you to get to the bathroom. Azzi never felt like an inconvenience. Because Paige, in all her steady, attentive care, never made her feel like one.
They were equals. Regardless of the fact that, at the moment, one of them needed significantly more help than the other, throughout the entire time they had known each other, it always felt like they stood on completely even ground.
Azzi had recently started to notice how naturally this balance appeared in their everyday lives. Every afternoon, when Paige would finally stumble back into the apartment after a grueling training session, Azzi would be waiting right there on the couch for her. The second Paige was out of the shower, Azzi would pat the cushion in front of her so as to signal Paige to sit down so Azzi could massage her. So what if her ankle was completely messed up? Her arms and hands still worked perfectly, and nobody on the planet knew the specific mechanics of Paige’s body, or her lingering injuries, better than Azzi.
They were equals at night, too. After dinner, they would settle onto the couch together. Paige would be locked into a show or a basketball game on her iPad or the TV, while Azzi sat beside her, lost in a book. Without a single word ever being exchanged between them, the volume of the screen always seemed to exist at a magical, perfect equilibrium: just loud enough for Paige to enjoy, but quiet enough to respect Azzi’s reading.
They were equals in their care, and their love for each other. Azzi knew now with absolute certainty that this feeling was completely un-platonic for her, but she still couldn’t fully decipher Paige. The mere thought that Paige might turn around and do all of this, the burnt omelets, the carrying, the endless, gentle attentiveness, for any regular schmegular Joe or Nancy made Azzi want to physically vomit.
But Azzi wasn't the only one spiraling. Earlier that afternoon at the indoor courts, Nika had watched Paige stretch out a tight shoulder and offered to help.
“If you want, I can massage your shoulder,” Nika had said.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Paige had replied instantly, not even thinking. “If it really hurts, Azzi’ll just massage it later.”
Nika had just rolled her eyes, letting out a loud snort. “Bro, you are so whipped. But fine, I won’t keep your gay ass away from your wife. It’s your last day with her, after all.”
“Bro, why are you saying it like one of us is going to die?” Paige had snapped back defensively.
But inside, Paige did feel like she was going to die. The seven days were officially over. What if Azzi expected her to just pack her suitcase, load up her car, and quietly go back to her own apartment?
Later that evening, the reality of the timeline finally crashed into the living room. Azzi was sitting behind Paige on the couch, her thumbs digging firm, precise circles into Paige's shoulder blades.
“Carol came by to check on me while you were at practice,” Azzi mentioned casually, her fingers working through a knot.
Underneath her, Paige’s entire back locked up, her muscles tightening up and undoing all of Azzi’s hard work. “Oh, yeah? What’d she say?”
“She said I’m good to start putting full weight on it now.”
Paige could have played it safe. She could have said, 'Oh, okay, I guess I'll head home tomorrow then.' But Paige wasn't about to let Azzi go. She didn’t want to live away from her, and frankly, she didn't think Azzi wanted to live away from her either.
She was helplessly, entirely in love with Azzi Fudd. And she wasn't blind, she had seen the way Azzi looked at her while they were brushing their teeth together in the bathroom last night. She had felt the heavy, breathless silence in the room as Azzi’s eyes slowly traced the lines of her body, lingering on the veins in her forearms, moving up to her collarbone, and dropping to her abs since Paige was just wearing a sports bra. Azzi wanted her. Paige knew it. So, fuck it.
Paige relaxed her shoulders under Azzi’s hands, and in a casual, but sure voice said, “Good. Then you can finally start helping me with washing the dishes instead of freeloading off me, and taking advantage of the fact that I’m in love with you.”
Azzi’s thumbs froze mid-press on Paige’s shoulder blades.
For a second, the living room went entirely still. Azzi’s brain scrambled to process what Paige had just said, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of Paige's shirt. Helping with the dishes. Not 'glad you're healed, I'll go pack my shit.' Not 'let me know if you need anything else before I head out.'
Paige wasn't leaving.
A sudden, overwhelming rush of relief flooded Azzi’s chest, so intense it almost made her dizzy. And then Azzi processed the rest of her words: Paige loved Azzi.
Paige loved Azzi.
Well of course Paige loved Azzi.
But Paige was in love with Azzi.
Paige loves Azzi, and Azzi finally knows exactly how.
She gave a hard, intentional shove directly into the knot on Paige's left shoulder, eliciting a sharp gasp from the blonde in front of her.
“Freeloading?” Azzi echoed, her voice dropping into a flat but watery scoff. “Excuse me? I am a renowned medical entrepreneur providing you with elite, luxury-tier physical therapy on a daily basis, Madison. Do you have any idea what my hourly rate is?”
She shifted her weight on the couch, leaning forward so her breath brushed right past Paige’s ear.
“If we’re tallying up the invoice for the last four days, you actually owe me about four thousand dollars. So, if anything, you're the one freeloading off of me and taking advantage of how in love with you I am by using my couch as a physio bed.” She slapped Paige’s shoulder lightly. “But fine. If you want your princess to break her back doing chores, I guess I can wash the dishes. But I am absolutely not touching the pans you burn your test-omelettes in.”
Paige slowly turned around on the cushion, her eyes wide, glassy, and fixed entirely on Azzi's face.
“You love me,” Paige said, her voice cracking slightly as a few tears threatened to spill over her lower lashes. “Not just like me. You’re in love with me.”
Azzi looked at her, the playful armor completely dissolving as she felt her own chest swell. She let out a soft, breathless laugh.
“What did you expect?” Azzi whispered, reaching out to wipe a stray tear from Paige's cheek. “You made it so easy to (fall in love).”
————————
Paige and Azzi fell a lot. Paige had fallen right on her face, incredibly embarrassingly, the very first day she met Azzi. Paige had fallen again when her knee blew out. And Azzi had fallen on a terrible double date, all because she was desperately trying to get over Paige.
But this time, they fell together. And this time, falling felt a whole lot more like flying.
A/N, first project, and i hope you guys love it !!!!! I’ve never written any story especially not a fanfic so pls be gentle.
====================================
Paige POV
The first sound that pierced the quiet morning was Hazel singing.
Not softly.
Not hesitantly.
But boldly, like a star on stage.
I opened my eyes to the fearless voice of a four-year-old, belting out a song she’d probably heard only once but already claimed as her own, mangling the lyrics with such confidence it was impossible not to smile.
The ceiling above me was familiar. The sunlight slipping through the curtains was familiar. The tiny hand wrapped tightly around my arm, as if I might vanish if she let go, was familiar. I liked it this way.
This was the only place where I didn’t feel like everyone was watching.
Not Paige Bueckers.
Not the Dallas Wings star.
Not the face on billboards and magazine covers.
“Mommy?”
I opened one eye.
Hazel leaned over me, curls a wild mess from sleep, wearing dinosaur pajamas but looking way too serious for it.
“Yeah?”
“Are you awake?”
I stared.
She stared back.
“Hazel.”
“What?”
“You just asked if I was awake... while I was answering you.”
She paused, then grinned.
“Oh.”
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped.
That was Hazel.
Four years old and somehow already able to erase every stressful thought the moment she walked into the room.
She climbed onto the bed and made herself comfortable right away, sprawled across my stomach like she owned the place.
Technically, she didn’t, but she sure acted like it.“Big day,” she announced. I raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She sat up. “Because we’re going to the fancy art place.”
“The fashion and art exhibition.”
“Yeah. The fancy art place.”
I nodded. “Right.”
Hazel narrowed her eyes. “You have to wear your fancy clothes.”
“I was planning on it.”
“And I get to wear mine.”
“That was your idea.”
“I know.”
She said it like I should already know.
I watched her run to her closet, unaware she was the only one who could boss me around and get away with it.
Most saw me as an intimidating athlete, the competitor, the woman who performed under pressure without blinking.
Hazel saw none of that.
To her, I was the one who made animal-shaped pancakes, checked for monsters under the bed, sang bedtime songs badly, and always came home.
And honestly? That mattered most.
====================================
By the time we were ready to leave, I’d already received six emails, three texts from my agent, and a reminder from the Wings about “maintaining a positive public presence.”
Which meant: Smile. Be charming. Don’t cause trouble.
I understood. Being a pro athlete meant every moment could be a headline. A bad game sparked debate. A look became attitude. A private opinion turned controversy. Unfortunately being a star player only made things worse.
I’d spent years learning control. But events like this were different.
Basketball was simple. The court didn’t care who your parents were, your money, or your followers. You either performed or didn’t. The scoreboard never lied.
These rooms were different. Everyone smiled, complimented, acted happy. But everyone was watching everyone.
I hated that. Not because I thought I was better—I wasn’t. I just knew how it felt to be seen as the version they created: the athlete, the success, the contracts, the trophies.
They didn’t see the woman who sometimes ate standing because she was too tired to sit, the mom who packed extra snacks for Hazel’s changing mind, or the person behind the name.
“Mommy.”
I looked down. Hazel stood there in her outfit—miniature velvet blazer, serious face, confidence. The only thing breaking the image? Bright red ballet flats. Completely her.
I wore black for practicality. Hazel wore red because every outfit needed “something happy.”
She looked up. “Do I look fancy?”
I crouched to fix her blazer. “You look beautiful.”
She smiled. “Like you?”
I paused. Hazel never understood why people felt awkward receiving compliments. She gave them freely.
“No,” I said softly. “Better than me.”
She seemed satisfied. And honestly, it was true.
====================================
The exhibition was exactly what I expected. It was beautiful,expensive,and overwhelming. The kind of environment anyone would ether shine or die .
The building seemed designed to remind everyone money existed. Marble floors gleamed under hundreds of camera flashes. Massive artworks covered the walls. Designers, executives, celebrities, and athletes wore clothes worth more than some cars.
From the moment I stepped in, I felt the attention. I was used to it, but that didn’t mean I liked it.
“Paige!”
The first camera flashed before I’d taken ten steps. Then another. And another. “ look here!“ another one yelled
I gave the smile I’d mastered, the friendly and professional, just right personality. That's what UConn media training will do to ya.
A reporter approached.
“Paige, how does it feel being one of the biggest names in basketball right now?”
I nodded politely. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.” Safe. Always safe.
“And who’s your little guest?”
The reporter looked at Hazel. My arm tightened around her.
“My daughter.”
The reporter smiled. “She’s adorable.”
Hazel waved. “Thank you.”
I almost laughed. She had no idea what she was thanking them for—only that adults liked politeness.
We moved further inside. I kept Hazel close, not because I feared something bad, but because people forgot she was a child.
To some, she was just another detail in the Paige Bueckers story—a cute addition.
But she wasn’t a story.
She was my daughter.
And I would protect her from anything, even a room full of people who thought they knew me.
====================================
I noticed him before he approached. That was usually how it worked. People thought they were subtle. They weren’t.
The sports executive standing near the entrance had been watching us for several minutes. Not me but Hazel.
My expression didn’t change, but I remembered his face.
Years of being around media had taught me one thing: pay attention.
People always show you who they are before they say it out loud.
And unfortunately, he was about to prove me right.
The executive waited until I was alone enough to approach. That was the kind of person he was. Someone who knew exactly when a conversation would look less embarrassing for him.
He walked over with a smile that never reached his eyes.
“Paige.”
I turned.
“Hello.”
He extended his hand. I shook it because that was what you did in rooms like this. Professional. Polite. Controlled.
“Congratulations on everything you’ve accomplished,” he said. “The Wings are lucky to have someone with your level of influence.”
There it was. The compliment before the request. The kindness before the transaction.
I gave him a small nod. “Thank you.”
His eyes moved past me. To Hazel. The smile changed to something more subtle.
“And this must be your daughter.”
Hazel looked up at him. “Hi.”
He looked back at me. “I wasn’t aware children were attending tonight.”
The words were polite. The tone wasn’t.
My shoulders tightened slightly. “She’s with me.”
“I understand that.” He glanced around the room. “It’s just that these events are designed to maintain a certain atmosphere.”
I stared at him. “What atmosphere?”
He hesitated. People always hesitated when they had to explain what they really meant.
“The sponsors, the executives, the artists… it’s a very professional environment.”
I looked down at Hazel. She was holding onto my jacket sleeve, completely unaware someone was making her feel like she didn’t belong.
That was the part that bothered me.
Because Hazel was four. She didn’t know about reputation. Status. Or that some people thought they were more important than others.
She only knew she’d spent an hour picking out her red ballet flats because they made her look like a princess.
And someone was looking at her like she was a problem.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
The executive relaxed slightly, probably thinking he’d won.
He shouldn’t have.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, “that you believe a child being here affects the quality of this room.”
His smile disappeared. The air shifted.
Someone might aswell give me my flowers. I wasn’t yelling. I wasn’t causing a scene. Although I didn’t need to.
My entire career had been built on discipline. On control. On knowing exactly when to push and when to stop.
But there was a line on of limits. Everyone has one. Mine was Hazel and bad refs.
“Paige,” he said quietly, lowering his voice. “I think you’re misunderstanding me.”
“No.” I looked directly at him. “I think I understand you perfectly.” The minion is looking at me like I’m still wrong.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
The vibe started to shift. I could hear people chatting in the background but everyone always notices when tension has entered the room.
The executive looked uncomfortable now. Good. Because I was done making myself smaller to make others comfortable.
“Perhaps security could—”
“Could what?”
A voice interrupted. Calm. Smooth. Confident.
The executive stopped. So did I.
I turned and for the first time that night, I forgot about the cameras.
The woman walking toward us looked like she belonged in a completely different world—not because she was trying to, but because everyone else moved around her without realizing they were making space.
She wasn’t rushing or searching for attention. Attention found her. Her dress was impossible to miss. It was elegant, expensive, more like a piece of art than clothing.
But the first thing I noticed wasn’t the dress. It was her expression: calm. Not nervous, impressed, or intimidated—just calm.
That was rare, especially here, everyone is always trying to compare and compete among themselves. It’s honestly so exhausting.
I recognized her a second later. Azzi. The model who seemed to appear everywhere without trying to be seen.
I’d seen her on magazine covers, advertisements, social media—usually surrounded by people, usually smiling, but this was different. There was something sharper underneath, something I hadn’t expected.
She stopped between me and the executive—not dramatically, not like she was trying to make a statement, just enough to form a barrier.
The executive immediately shifted his posture. Interesting.
“You were saying?” Azzi asked softly, her voice making it worse.
He cleared his throat. “This is a misunderstanding.”
Azzi smiled—a beautiful, dangerous smile.
“I’m sure you believe that.”
The room went quiet. She looked at him like she was reading a document she already understood with fire in her eyes.
“I would suggest,” she continued, “that before you decide who belongs in a room, you consider who built the room you’re standing in.”
His face tightened.
“I don’t think you understand the situation.”
“No,” she said after a pause. “I understand it very well.”
She glanced briefly at Hazel, then back at him.
“You saw a child and decided she was inconvenient.”
He opened his mouth, but she didn’t let him speak.
“That’s an interesting choice, considering your company’s entire public image is built around supporting athletes and families.”
The confidence in her voice was different from mine. Mine came from experience; hers came from power.
She wasn’t threatening him. She was reminding him that she didn’t need to.
“I would hate for tomorrow’s headlines to be about how one of your executives treated a player’s child at a charity event.”
The executive’s expression changed because he understood.
She wasn’t just famous—she had influence. Real influence. The kind that makes people reconsider their decisions.
“I think we’re done here,” Azzi said politely. Somehow, the polite tone made it final.
The executive left. No argument. No last comment. Nothing. Maybe she should teach me a few tricks. I bet I can use this method for refs.
I watched him disappear into the crowd, then looked at the woman standing beside me—Azzi.
For the first time all night, I didn’t know what to say. And I hated that.
I was good with people. I knew how to do interviews confidently, negotiate smartly, and how to handle pressure.
But this woman had walked into a situation she had nothing to do with and completely changed it.
“Thank you,” I finally said.
She looked at me, and for a moment, I expected the polished celebrity smile everyone got.
Instead, her eyes softened.
“It wasn’t anything.”
It was. She just didn’t think so.
Before I could respond, Hazel tugged gently on my jacket.
“Mommy.”
I looked down.
“What?”
Hazel was staring at Azzi very seriously.
The tension that had filled the room disappeared completely. Hazel had that effect.
She looked at Azzi’s dress, then at her own shoes, then back at Azzi.
Her eyes widened.
“Your dress matches my shoes.”
Azzi looked down and for the first time since she walked over, she looked surprised.
Hazel lifted one foot, showing off her bright red ballet flat.
Azzi laughed softly—a real laugh, not the kind people gave for cameras.
“You’re right.”
Hazel nodded.
“I picked them.”
“I can tell.”
Hazel smiled, then without hesitation added, “You’re really pretty.”
Something changed.
The woman who had just controlled an entire room without raising her voice disappeared.
Azzi’s expression softened completely. She looked at Hazel like she was the only person there.
Then, without caring about the expensive dress she was wearing or the marble floor beneath her, she lowered herself down until they were eye level. “ well I think you even more pretty “
I had seen people perform kindness before. That was one of the things I hated most about rooms like this.
Everything had a purpose. Every smile. Every compliment. Every handshake.
People were always aware of who was watching, but Azzi didn’t look like she was performing. She didn’t look around to see if anyone noticed. She didn’t care about the cameras.
She just cared about Hazel.
And somehow, that caught me off guard more than anything else she had done.
“What’s your name? ” Azzi said softly.
Hazel tilted her head.
“Hazel”
Azzi smiled.
“That’s a beautiful name.”
“I know.”
I looked away quickly so Azzi wouldn’t see me trying not to laugh.
That was Hazel. No hesitation. No filter. No understanding that sometimes people softened their words to be polite. She believed everything she said.
Azzi seemed to love that.
“I like your flats,” Azzi told her.
Hazel looked down proudly.
“They are very soft and comfy when I run.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
She leaned closer like she was sharing a secret.
“But Mommy says I can’t run inside.”
Azzi glanced up at me.
A small smile tugged at her lips. Connecting her eyes with mine
“She sounds very responsible.”
I crossed my arms.
“Someone has to be.”
Hazel immediately pointed at me.
“Mommy is serious. Sometimes”
Azzi laughed.
And I hated that I noticed how different she looked when she did. The woman who had been standing across from an executive, completely untouchable, suddenly looked warm.
Real.
Like the person everyone else saw was only one version of her.
Interesting.
I wasn’t used to people having layers. Most people showed you exactly what they wanted you to see. Azzi seemed different.
“Can I ask you something?” Hazel asked.
Azzi nodded.
“Of course.”
“Are you a princess?”
The question caught Azzi off guard. Her eyes widened slightly. Then she smiled.
“No.”
Hazel looked confused.
“But you’re wearing a pretty dress.”
I glanced away.
Because somehow that made perfect sense. Azzi looked down at her dress. Then back at Hazel.
“Well, maybe for tonight.”
Hazel nodded, satisfied.
“Okay.”
A quiet moment settled between them.
Just minutes ago, I was ready to walk out of this event, surrounded by people who cared more about appearances than people.
And now I was standing there watching a woman in a designer gown sit on a marble floor and talk to my daughter about shoes.
Maybe I had been wrong. Not about everyone. Definitely not everyone. But maybe about her.
“Azzi?”
The voice came from behind us. The softness disappeared instantly. Not completely. But enough. A woman with a headset and a tablet approached quickly, followed by two security guards.
Her expression was the kind I recognized.
stress.
The kind that comes from trying to keep a schedule together.
“Your ribbon-cutting starts in two minutes.”
Azzi blinked.
For a second, she looked like she forgot the entire world existed outside of Hazel. Then she looked back at the woman.
“Right.”
The professional version returned. It was subtle, but I noticed. The warmth stayed in her eyes, but her posture changed. Her shoulders straightened. Her expression became polished. The woman everyone expected appeared again. That was probably the version the world knew.
The model. The millionaire. The person who belonged in rooms like this.
Azzi stood.
Gracefully. Effortlessly. Like she hadn’t just been sitting on the floor in a dress worth more than my car.
She looked at Hazel first.
“Bye, Hazel.”
Hazel waved.
“Bye.”
Then Azzi looked at me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
There was something strange about it. Like there was a conversation happening that neither of us knew how to have. Finally, she gave me a small, polite nod.
“Excuse me.”
That was it.
No dramatic goodbye. No attempt to exchange numbers. No reason to stay.
She turned and disappeared into the crowd. Almost immediately, cameras surrounded her. People called her name. The world opened back up around her. And I stood there watching.
“Mommy?”
I looked down.
Hazel was looking up at me.
“Yeah?”
“Azzi is nice.”
I looked back toward where she disappeared.
Azzi.
Her name sounded strange in my head. Like I wasn’t supposed to remember it. But I did.
“She is.”
Hazel smiled.
“I like her.”
I nodded.
“Yeah.”
And I hated how easily I agreed. Because I didn’t know her. Not really. I knew she was famous. I knew she could silence an executive with a few sentences. But that wasn’t what stayed with me.
What stayed with me was the way she looked at Hazel.
Like my daughter wasn’t an inconvenience. Like she wasn’t a distraction. Like she was important. Most people looked at me and saw everything I had achieved. Azzi had looked at Hazel and saw the person I loved most.
That meant something.
I didn’t know what.
And I wasn’t interested in finding out. At least, that was what I told myself. Because I didn’t have time for distractions. I had a team depending on me. A daughter depending on me. A career I had fought too hard to build. I didn’t need complications.
Especially not beautiful ones wearing expensive dresses and walking into my life like they belonged there.
I picked Hazel up, adjusting her against my hip. She rested her head on my shoulder.
“Mommy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we see Azzi again?”
I looked toward the crowd one last time.
She was gone.
Completely swallowed by cameras and people. I should have forgotten about her. That would have been easier. But something about Azzi bothered me. Not in the way most people did. Usually, I could figure people out within minutes. What thier intentions, weakness, and lies.
Azzi was different. I couldn’t tell if she was the most genuine person I had met in years—or the best actress. And for some reason, I wanted to know which one.
I walked out of the exhibition carrying my daughter, surrounded by lights, cameras, and a world that still didn’t feel like mine.
synopsis: sometimes love is waiting patiently at the end of a road you never planned to travel. and the person who helps you survive your darkest days becomes the reason you start looking forward to brighter ones.
cw: angst & illness … sorry in advance
wc: 2k
chapter fifteen:
Azzi smiles as she steps out of the shower onto the cool tile, water still dripping from the ends of her hair as she wraps a towel securely around herself. The bruise climbing up her thigh is already blooming into something ugly and purple, a souvenir from a reckless Chicago attacker who’d come in late and hard. She’s sore, sure, and she has an early-morning flight back to Washington looming over her, but underneath the fatigue there’s a lightness she hasn’t felt in a long time.
They won pretty decisively.
With home-field advantage on the line, the victory feels like a turning point. After months of setbacks, injuries, and too many quiet doubts she never voiced, something is finally clicking again. She feels sharp on the field, and the coaching staff hasn’t exactly been subtle about how relieved they are to have her. And for once, Azzi believes it too.
She towels off slowly, savoring the moment, when the familiar high-pitched ring of an incoming FaceTime call cuts through the quiet hotel room. Her smile widens instantly.
She slips on a Nike sports bra, abandons the towel, and grabs her phone before flopping back onto the stiff hotel bed, tugging the thick comforter over her bare legs and settling in.
“Hey!”
“Hey, hun. Congrats on the win! You looked great out there,” Nora says, her face lighting up the screen.
Even through the pixels, Azzi can see how exhausted her girlfriend is. The slight heaviness beneath Nora’s hazel eyes. The way her shoulders sag just a bit, like the weight of a brutal double shift in the ER hasn’t quite left her body yet. And still, she’s smiling like Azzi just won the whole damn league.
It’s moments like this that make everything feel possible. Like her life is finally aligning in a way she once stopped believing it could—soccer, friends, family. And now, a relationship that doesn’t feel like it’s constantly slipping through her fingers.
After nearly three months with Nora, she’s almost let go of her fear of commitment.
Almost.
Sometimes, it’s easy. Like when Nora shows up to her games and waits patiently for the crowd to thin so she can sneak a quick kiss without cameras catching it. It’s easy when she wakes up early on game days to find breakfast made, and fresh lilies nestled in a vase on her kitchen table. It’s easy when her post-game massages start professional and end… decidedly not. When she hosts dinners for the Bueckers’, cooking so Paige and Emma can breathe for a few hours. Or when she calls in the middle of a shift just to say she’s thinking about her.
It’s in all those small, consistent things that Azzi feels herself falling harder than she meant to.
And still, doubt creeps in.
When Nora comes home late, slips into bed and murmurs apologies with soft kisses into her shoulder, Azzi wonders if she’d really been at work. When a call comes later than expected, or not at all, her mind jumps ahead to familiar endings. To Lucina. To promises that dissolved without warning, and she silently wonders if Nora is secretly planning her exit.
She knows it’s unfair, and honestly, knows she should probably be in therapy to address these issues. Alas. Nora hasn’t given her a reason not to trust her. If anything, she’s the one nudging toward more, toward a future Azzi still isn’t sure she knows how to picture. But she wants this to work. Desperately. She tells herself that if she just holds on long enough, those last walls will come down on their own.
“Why, thank you, doctor,” Azzi teases, letting her gaze dip pointedly to the undone button on Nora’s red blouse. She knows exactly why it’s open. “You look pretty damn good yourself.”
She takes her time looking, raising an eyebrow as she takes in the sharp angles of Nora’s square jawline, the way her olive skin seems to glow under the warm light of her bedroom. The doctor’s lips curve into a smirk, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Maybe you can get a better look when you get back tomorrow,” Nora says, her tone playful and teasing.
Azzi groans dramatically, already impatient, but a grin tugs at the corner of her mouth. She glances around, noting that her roommate is gone, and vaguely remembers the midfielder mentioning dinner plans with her family after the game. That buys her time.
“Can I at least get a sneak preview?” Azzi asks.
She watches as Nora bites her lip, fingers trailing slowly up her stomach before undoing another button. Azzi swallows hard when the lace of a pink bra comes into view—the one. The one that wrecks her every time.
“Had to be that bra, huh?” she whines.
Nora just chuckles, clearly enjoying every second of this torment.
“Such a tease.”
“Aw, don’t be mad,” Nora coos, the teasing lilt in her voice making Azzi scowl even more. “I promise I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, okay?”
Azzi pouts half-heartedly, fully aware it won’t work. Nora, unlike everyone else, is immune to her normal pout.
“Fine,” Azzi grumbles, shifting slightly beneath the comforter, pressing her thighs together. “But I’m hanging up now so you can get some sleep, since you definitely won’t be getting any tomorrow night.”
Nora’s smirk turns knowing, her gaze flicking downward before returning to Azzi’s eyes. “Sounds good, champ. I’m heading to bed. I just pulled a double shift and then stayed up late to watch some hot girl on the Spirit kick ass.”
Azzi hums, tapping her chin while pretending to think. “Hmm. What number is she? Maybe I can put in a good word for you.”
She laughs when Nora flips her off.
The doctor fights back a yawn, and Azzi sighs, reluctantly letting her off the hook. “Go get some sleep, beautiful. I can’t wait for tomorrow.”
Nora smiles one last time, that familiar soft curve of her lips that always makes Azzi feel like she’s standing on steadier ground. Just as Azzi reaches to tap ‘end,’ Nora tilts her phone downward, flashing her for barely a second, but enough to sear itself into Azzi’s brain.
“You tease!” Azzi groans, heat pooling low in her stomach as she slides a hand between her legs, desperate for some kind of release from the tension coiling there. After going over a year without getting laid, she’d almost forgotten how sharp the ache could get. How consuming. And now, with Nora, it’s all rushing back at once—want and need and anticipation tangled together.
Nora just laughs before the screen goes dark.
Azzi ends the call and tosses her phone onto the bed in front of her, hand still resting between her legs as she exhales shakily. She leans back against the pillows, spreading her legs to get more comfortable, eyes drifting shut as she tries to ride out the lingering buzz under her skin, focused on the image Nora flashed her. A soft sigh slips from her lips as she rubs her fingers over her clit.
Then a faint voice crackles through the speaker.
"Az?"
Azzi’s eyes fly open.
Panic detonates in her chest as she scrambles upright, yanking the comforter up to her chin like it can somehow undo the last ten seconds of her life. Her heart is slamming against her ribs, heat flooding her face as she fumbles for her phone in the mess of blankets pooled on the bed and stares at the screen in horror.
“Paige, what the hell?” she shrieks, wondering how the hell she accidentally accepted the FaceTime call.
On the other end, Paige lets out a nervous chuckle, dipping her head slightly as if she can hide her blush that way. She avoids direct eye contact, which somehow makes it worse. Azzi can’t tell how much Paige saw, if anything, but she can see the office behind her, the glow of a massive monitor, and realizes with a sinking feeling that if Paige did get a view, it was probably crystal fucking clear. And even if she didn’t, the audio alone was incriminating enough.
Paige shrugs, trying and failing, to play it off. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
This is it. This is officially the most mortifying moment of her life.
Worse than when her dad walked in on her and her first girlfriend mid–make out session in her childhood bedroom. Worse than accidentally catching her weight training coach and assistant coach hooking up in the high school locker room. Possibly even worse than walking in on her brother and his “friend” during that surprise visit last year.
Paige snickers at her obvious distress. “Hey, we all do it.”
Azzi shoots her a glare sharp enough to cut glass.
The grin immediately disappears from Paige’s face. She lifts her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I was just calling to say congrats on the win. You looked great out there for ninety.”
Azzi is still reeling, cheeks burning, stomach twisted in knots. “Thanks,” she mutters.
Paige leans back in her chair, clearly enjoying this far too much. “I’m guessing you accidentally accepted my call…”
Azzi drags a hand down her face, finally letting out a breathy laugh she’s been holding in. “Yeah. I was just on the phone with Nora. I cannot believe that just happened. I’m so sorry.”
Paige smirks. “Oh, trust me, I’m not the traumatized one here.”
Azzi shakes her head. Of course Paige is loving this, reveling in her discomfort. Azzi narrows her eyes at her, then decides to change the subject before Paige can milk this any further.
“So, you watched the game?”
Paige nods, some of the awkwardness finally fading.
“And before you ask, that was definitely not a foul,” Paige says, crossing her arms.
Azzi straightens instantly, indignation flaring. “I know! That was such bullshit!”
She knows exactly what Paige means. The soft challenge just outside the box that had the ref already reaching for his pocket before Azzi could even open her mouth. She’d barely brushed the girl.
Paige fights back a grin. “That girl totally dove.”
“Right?!” Azzi snaps. “I got all ball.”
There’s something teasing in Paige’s expression now, something a little too amused. Azzi narrows her eyes.
“You’re mocking me.”
“I would never,” she deadpans.
Before Azzi can launch into a full rant, Paige’s expression changes. The humor drains from her face, brow furrowing as she lifts a hand, signaling Azzi to wait.
“Em?” Paige calls, her voice suddenly tight. “Oh my God, Emma. What’s wrong?”
Azzi’s breath catches.
Seconds crawl by agonizingly slow as Paige shoves back from her desk and disappears out of frame. Muffled voices echo faintly through the speakers, indistinct and frantic, and Azzi leans forward instinctively, gripping the edge of her laptop like she can will the camera to follow.
Her chest feels tight. Her pulse pounds in her ears.
“Paige?” Azzi calls, panic creeping into her voice.
There’s no response. She barely breathes, staring at the empty screen, every horrible possibility flashing through her mind at once.
Then Paige reappears, face ghostly pale, eyes wide with terror.
“I have to go, Az. The baby is coming!”
The screen goes black before Azzi can say a single word.
She just sits there, staring at her reflection in the darkened screen, heart slamming violently against her ribs. Her stomach twists, dread settling deep and heavy.
Emma isn’t due yet.
It’s too soon.
Azzi swallows hard, gripping her phone like it’s the only thing anchoring her to reality.
All that’s left is silence, a black screen, and the terrifying unknown.
A/N: In light of Tash and Izzy’s recent behavior (they’ve both been annoying me a little), the new ideal couple will be AT and DB. Alsoooo, the next part will be posted after the Sparks game! It’s already written (mainly bc it was originally part of chapter five, but I got new ideas), but it still needs to be edited. Anywho, I hope you love it!!! xx Elle
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Azzi woke up early the next morning – not on purpose, but she couldn’t sleep for more than ninety straight minutes, and at 4:07, she was up for good. She’d never been able to function when she knew people were angry with her, and this situation with Paige was no different.
During their session yesterday, Paige looked completely checked out and uninterested. She couldn’t believe that her expression morphed into something sad after she left.
She kept replaying what DiJonai had texted her.
She looked like someone kicked her puppy.
Paige was sad, and it was all her fault.
She’d been ignoring the hateful things that people from their church said about gay people since she realized that she was a lesbian, and that she was made that way. So the things Jacob, Silas, Harrison, Teagan, and Chrissy had been saying didn’t phase her – she just sat at the table and let her mind drift.
But Paige probably thought she felt the same. And Azzi couldn’t even blame her. Jake was her boyfriend and Chrissy and Teagan were supposed to be her best friends. Anybody would assume that they held similar views, even though Azzi was just waiting for graduation, so she could hopefully never have to speak to any of them again.
Anyway, Paige had a more than valid reason to be upset with her. She thought that Azzi hated who she was, that she looked down on her family, and that she though Paige was broken.
So, Azzi was awake trying to do anything that could make it a little better for the blonde. And while she knew that coming out to Paige would help her see that Azzi didn’t hate her, she definitely wasn’t ready for that yet.
Which brought her to where she was now.
Azzi had been raised to be the perfect little southern housewife, which meant she was an amazing baker. It also helped that baking was one of her favorite stress relievers.
After she realized that she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep, Azzi rolled out of bed, stepped into her house shoes, and padded downstairs to the kitchen.
As neglectful as Azzi’s parents were, the obscene amounts of money her dad made while having his hate speech tour meant that they had a gourmet kitchen – it was her favorite part of the house.
Her body moved on auto pilot, and by six am, there were four different flavors of muffins on her kitchen counters. She’d started with cinnamon muffins with a caramel apple filling and vanilla glaze. They had been her favorite comfort food since she learned how to cook for herself. But then, she got worried that Paige wouldn’t like apples, so she made her tried and true blueberry muffins. After that, she was on a roll – she could’ve made the lemon poppyseed muffins blindfolded with her hands behind her back. Then she finished her bake-a-thon with some classic chocolate chip muffins.
By the time she broke out of her baking haze, there were forty eight muffins in neat rows across her island. Paige was not going to eat all of those muffins by herself.
She packed three of each into a cardboard cupcake box. She saved two cinnamon apple and lemon poppyseed ones for herself and packed the rest to deliver to the front office so teachers could have some once they arrived.
She was quick and methodical as she wiped down her kitchen. It needed to look like no one had ever opened a cabinet, or her mom would check the security cameras and fuss at her.
Once she was finished with everything, Azzi was left with only thirty minutes to get ready.
She rushed to get ready, picking a pastel yellow dress with daisies embroidered onto the lightweight fabric. She found a soft cream-colored cardigan to match, and in her rush out the door, she didn’t have time to find any shoes except for her white converse.
Azzi used a couple of bungee cords from the garage to secure the large boxes on the back of her bicycle and set off for school.
She coupldn’t help but feel a little nauseous during her ride. What if Paige didn’t forgive her? What if she never wanted to speak to her again? What if she couldn’t change the blonde’s mind and show her who she really is.
God, please just tell me what to say.
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Paige got to school before anyone else. Well, Coach was always there are six am, but he didn’t count – no one was really sure if he ever went home during the season.
Anywho, she drove her truck to school, for the first time ever(!!), and because of the time, finding a parking spot in the athlete lot was simple.
Paige didn’t love lifting, but she couldn’t deny the way her brain went empty when she was solely focused on counting reps. It didn’t hurt that she liked the way she looked when she bulked up.
In between her sets, she thought about everything that she’d heard at lunch the day before.
Maybe she was being too hard on Azzi. It wasn’t like she said anything – it didn’t even look like she was paying attention to what they were saying. But still, she was friends with them. She was dating one of them.
Paige could never date a homophobic person. Well, obviously she couldn’t because she’d only be dating another girl. But…she could never date a racist person. That was also obvious though, because she had never liked anyone who wasn’t Black. Either way, Paige would never date someone who discriminated against other people.
You don’t date people with different core beliefs than you. So that meant that since Azzi’s best friends and her boyfriend were homophobic, she was too.
Coming to that realization flooded Paige’s frame with more anger.
She can’t believe she ever though Azzi was different. If it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, obviously, it was a fucking duck. But Paige just had to assume she was a fucking goose or some shit.
She upped the weight of the dumbbells and cranked out another set of rows. She finished her workout with three sets of pull ups. The way her arms shook helped her work out the rest of her rage, and she’d made up her mind.
She would still attend the tutoring sessions – Azzi was the only person who had made her feel smart in a year – but she wasn’t going out of her way to be kind and welcoming like she had before. Azzi didn’t deserve that.
Paige padding into the locker room, letting the hot water be a balm for her tired muscles as she washed the sweat from her skin.
After wringing the water from her hair and pulling her black sweatsuit back on, Paige walked back to the football locker room to get her backpack and stuff.
She sighed as she started her trek down the hallway – she really didn’t wanna be at school today.
The sound of wet suctioning made her head snap up in disgust.
She was met with the annoying sight of Jacob Gibson licking into some girl’s mouth. And based on the pin straight, red hair, he wasn’t making out with Azzi.
Before she could stop herself, her brain clouded with anger for her tutor. She swallowed down her frustration and painted on the smuggest smirk she could muster.
“I thought adultery was a sin.”
She reveled in the way his entire body tightened like a coil. He ripped away from the girl, and they both turned to look at the tall blonde with wide eyes.
Paige wasn’t shocked to see that the girl he was kissing was none other than Azzi’s best friend, Chrissy Montgomery.
“It’s only adultery if you’re married,” Jacob spat, like that made it any better.
Blue eyes narrowed as she looked at the pathetic people in front of her. “Is that supposed to make it better?”
“Well it’s better than being a homosexual, Paige. I don’t think you have any room to be criticizing us.” The ginger sneered.
She couldn’t believe they thought they were better than her because they were sneaking around Azzi’s back. “I’m not hurting anybody with loving who I love. But how would your girlfriend feel if she knew what you were doing, Gibson?”
“Like she’d believe a faggot like you. She’d never trust a sinner over her best friend and her boyfriend.” Jake ranted.
“God can forgive us. We’re not going to be living in sin like this forever. Jake is going to break up with Azzi soon. But you?” Chrissy’s face was red with fury and disgust. “You’ll never be forgiven by the Lord. If I were you, I would repent instead of focusing on us.”
Paige rolled her eyes, choosing to say one more thing, then walk away from them instead of wasting her breath on bullshit. “See, I know God loves me how I am. And I know He has a bigger problem with you all spewing hate and doing something that you know is gonna hurt someone else.”
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Paige had been thinking about the interaction with Jacob and Chrissy all day. It didn’t surprise her that they were bad enough people to cheat on their partners. What did surprise her is how much she cared about it.
And she didn’t care because of what they were doing. Not really. She cared because of who it would affect. And as annoyed as she was with Azzi, she couldn’t deny that the girl didn’t deserve that.
At lunch, she saw the brunette sitting in between Chrissy and Jacob, and it took everything in her to keep walking.
Instead, she put her head down and booked it to her friends. She tossed her tray onto the table and plopped into her seat.
“Uh, you good, P?” Jackie asked in the quiet tone she always used.
The blonde didn’t answer, choosing to just squeeze the packet of mayo on the dry bread the cafeteria had provided. The table fell silent as Paige ignoring her friend.
“Excuse me, Blondie. You don’t hear Jackie talking to you?” Nai questioned, calling her out, the way she always did. “What’s up with you? You’ve been off the last couple days.”
Paige sighed lowly. She couldn’t ignore her mother – she’d make it a big deal. “On Sunday night, my dad found out that Azzi was tutoring me.”
“Wait, what?” Jackie interjected.
DiJonai waved her off, eyes still locked on Paige. “I told you over the weekend, but you wanted to fall asleep instead of listening to me. Continue P.”
“Well my dad thinks that Azzi’s like her parents and stuff, and I was trying to tell her that she wasn’t. And I was gonna invite her to dinner this weekend, so that he can see that she’s not like that. But then yesterday I heard everybody at her lunch table saying a bunch of homophobic shit, and it pissed me off.”
DeWanna sat up straighter. “Seriously? What did Azzi say?”
Paige sighed, running her hands down her face. “She didn’t say anything. They were saying all this homophobic shit, and she just sat there. She didn’t even defend us. Like they were talking about y’all not having dads, and they said things about my dad, and she just stared at her lunch.” She was getting angry all over again.
The table fell silent – it wasn’t often that their golden retriever of a friend ever expressed her frustration like this. And while a couple of them had something to say, no one knew how to approach it without setting her off.
“Are you sure Azzi feels the same way, Paige?” DB questioned. When she was met with a cold glare from the blonde, she rushed to continue. “I’m just saying because in class, Azzi has told me how cute Alyssa and I are. And I don’t think she would just say that just because.”
“Yeah, well it doesn’t matter. How are you gonna defend her when she didn’t even defend us to her friends?” Paige’s brows her high on her forehead. She couldn’t believe they were sticking up for Azz like this.
Until Alyssa, the always wise one, added her two cents. “I want you to think about how that would’ve been received, P. Like yeah, she could’ve said something, but it was her against five other people.”
“Yeah,” Nai added. “Think about how her parents would react if they knew she was sticking up for gay people. You saw what they made your mom do when you came out, and she wasn’t even supporting you. Azzi would probably be cut off!”
Paige thought about the points they were making. Azzi really was one of the nicest, most liked people at Hays es County High, and there was a reason for that. She didn’t discriminate against anyone, like ever. And her parents would probably do more than cut her off if they found out she was an ally. And Azzi was also –
“Do you think it might help to just…” Jackie’s low voice trailed off. “Talk to her about it?”
The blonde sighed deeply because she was right. She would do it today after practice. She wouldn’t make her wait like she did the day before. She was going to simply as Azzi and let her respond.
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Azzi was nervous again. She wasn’t sure what kind of energy Paige was going to come in with that afternoon. She actually wasn’t sure if the blonde would make any appearance at all.
So instead of the perfectly organized and color-coded display she normally put together, all that was on the table were two copies of The Crucible and the box with the muffins in them. She thought about writing an apology card, but she didn’t think she would react well if Paige threw it away in front of her.
Once 5:45 rolled around, Azzi sighed and started packing up. Paige was livid yesterday – she didn’t know why she thought today would be any different.
Her head was down as she walked toward the library doors. She just couldn’t believe she blew it. She knew Paige would never return her feelings, but she was hoping that they could at least be friends. But she ruined it with her inability to stand up to her “friends,” and now Paige was going to fail and she’d probably hate her forever. God, she couldn’t believe she was so we –
The “oof” came out of her mouth before she could control it. The box she’d tucked against her side had tumbled to the floor, and she was thankful she had half a mind to tape the box shut that morning, because the culinary masterpieces were safe inside.
Strong hands held tightly to her hips, keeping the tall brunette upright. They were nice hands – large, veiny, and still gripping her firmly.
Wait, hands?
Azzi looked up, mouth parted a bit in shock. “You – you’re here,” she cringed inwardly at the way her voice cracked a bit.
Paige’s head tilted to the side a bit. “Of course I’m here.”
“Well, its 5:45, so I didn’t think you were coming.” She replied, breaking eye contact. She picked up the muffin box and stepped back, putting a little distance between the two of them.
Paige sighed, “I have to come to tutoring, Azzi. It’s mandatory. But even if it wasn’t, the sessions are helping, so I’d be here anyway.”
“Oh.”
The older girl moved around her tutor, heading to the back of the library for their table. “You coming?”
Azzi just stood by the door for a few more seconds. She didn’t understand why Paige was being so nice and talkative when Azzi knew she was still upset with her. But she wasn’t going to sit there and question why she was back to her normal self.
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Paige could see the confusion painted on Azzi’s face, and for a second, she felt a little bad. It was obvious that she’d expected Paige to be as rude and dismissive as she was yesterday, or even not show up at all.
She’d spent the rest of the day thinking about what her friends had said about Azzi not really having a choice, so she decided to do some research before making up her mind.
She stopped walking abruptly and turned around – Azzi was still by the door.
“On second thought, you’re already packed up, so how bout we skip tutoring today?” She asked, signature smirk across her lips. The way Azzi’s shoulders dropped and her lips tugged down in defeat almost broke Paige’s smolder. “Maybe we can go to Bianca’s for dinner?”
Instead of an answer, Azzi walked up and practically shoved the box into Paige’s abdomen. “I made these for you.” She said, staring at the white cardboard. Her voice was low, like she was scared to speak, and Paige’s heart clenched a little. “There’s cinnamon apple, lemon poppyseed, blueberry, and chocolate chip. I wasn’t sure what you would like. I did try to ask DiJonai though, but she seemed even more angry with me than you. So I – ”
“Breathe, Azzi.” Paige interjected, cutting off her rambling.”
Brown eyes snapped up to meet blue, and both girls froze.
“How about we eat these in my truck, hmm?” She started. “It started raining a little bit ago, and there’s no use in you getting soaked on your way home.”
Azzi’s eyes widened even further. “Um, well, I don’t think my father would approve of me getting in a car with someone he doesn’t know.”
“Well, I’m not gonna tell your dad,” She started, playful smirk returning. “Are you?”
The girl’s mouth opened, then slowly closed. “Um, I guess I don’t have to. But I thought you were upset with me.”
Paige held up the box with a wide grin. “You made me my favorite muffins, and besides, I owe you an explanation about yesterday.”
The blonde shifted the box to one hand and held the other out.
“What do you say, princess?”
Azzi’s eyes darted from the outstretched hand to those beautiful blue orbs, and back.
She didn't hesitate for long. Her smaller hand fit perfectly into Paige's, and the blonde felt her stomach flip at the contact. She didn't let herself think too hard about why that was, or how soft Azzi's skin was, or the way those brown eyes had gone wide and uncertain.
Instead, Paige just squeezed gently and tugged her forward with easy confidence, pulling them through the library doors and toward the heavy doors. The cool rain hit them immediately, but Paige didn't let go.
She couldn't have if she'd tried.
They walked toward the truck through the downpour, her hand still wrapped around Azzi's smaller one, and all Paige could think about was how she'd spent the whole day wrestling with herself, trying to figure out if Azzi deserved a second chance.
And standing here, rain soaking into her hair, Azzi's hand warm in hers, Paige had her answer.
islanders in paradise chapter three: I've already found my person ୨ৎ
. ۫ ꣑ৎ . synopsis: paige and azzi have both came to the conclusion that they have found what they were both looking for in a partner.
. ۫ ꣑ৎ . contains: azzi and paige being parents for 24 hours, they also argue like a married couple. nonsexual intimacy (I love), emotional intimacy, paige and azzi go on their first date, azzi being in love with paige's arms, a few heated make outs, dumb drama, funny comments, suggestive language, azzi letting her freakiness show, grinding
wc: 10.5k
. ۫ ꣑ৎ . authors note: just a little recap this is the third week of the islanders being in the villa. please, leave a comment or go to my inbox to tell me your thoughts. Sorry about the wait, it took me forever to find the motivation to write this chapter also @hoes4pazzi styled paige and azzi 🙂↔️ and I like half assed edited this so I’ll go back and read over it again tomorrow!
Azzi woke up earlier before any of the other islanders. she walked out of the bedroom and made her way down to the kitchen and started to grab all of the ingredients she needed to prepare Paige’s breakfast.
The rays of the Monday morning sunlight reflected onto Azzi’s face. She took her time preparing Paige’s food, wanting it to look aesthetically pleasing. Once she was done she grabbed the plate and the vanilla iced coffee she had made for Paige and headed up to the room.
When Azzi walked through the bedroom door most of the islander were already out of bed—except Paige. The blonde girl had the white covers over her head, blocking the sunlight from her face as she slept. Azzi could hear a faint sound of snoring coming from underneath the covers while she walked closer to the bed.
“Honey, you gotta get up,” Azzi said softly. Her voice went unheard from the sound asleep girl.
Azzi rolled her eyes and placed the plate and the drink on their side table. She grabbed at the covers and pulled them off of Paige. “No-, don't do that,” Paige whined. Her lip was scrunched up upset that the light was now hitting her face.
“Paige, you have to get up. I made you breakfast.”
Paige slowly started opening her eyes at Azzi’s words. “Breakfast?” she asked, moving her head off of the pillow to sit up.
The brunette nodded her head. “Yes, remember I told you yesterday I would make you breakfast.” Azzi handed Paige her plate of food as she talked. She sat at the edge of the bed, watching Paige take a bite into the pancakes.
Azzi’s eyes searched Paige’s face, “do you like it?” she asked, biting her lip hard as she waited for a response.
“What’s your ring size again?” Paige asked after she swallowed her food.
Azzi tilted her head to the side. “Why do you want to know my ring size?”
Paige grinned. “Because I need to wife you up. This shit is bomb,” she said with a moan. Paige cleared the whole plate of food and then started to work on her coffee.
Azzi let out a small giggle and shook her head. She waited patiently as Paige finished her coffee. Azzi was caught completely off guard when the blonde tried leaning in. She put her hand out to stop Paige.
“Don’t get me wrong I really wanna kiss you but you still haven’t brushed your teeth.”
The blondes back straightened up at the beginning of Azzi’s sentence. “Oh, you really wanna kiss me, huh?” Paige teased and wiggled her brows playfully. She quickly got out of bed and ran to the bathroom to do her oral hygiene routine.
Azzi laughed at how Paige ran back to her a few minutes later and launched herself at her. “Damn-,” she grunted when her back made contact with the bed. Paige pressed kisses all over Azzi’s face and eventually connected their lips after a few kisses.
The kiss was soft and light. Paige had pulled away before she got lost in the kiss and decided to deepen it. “Thank you so much for the breakfast. I loved it and no one has ever done that for me before.” she mumbled, pressing another kiss on the corner of Azzi’s mouth.
“You’re welcome.”
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The day dragged by slowly. Azzi and Paige were in the kitchen away from the beaming sun. “I can’t believe you like that shit,” Paige groaned and shook her head.
“Cottage cheese is good for you Paige. You know, eating healthy stuff is not gonna kill you,” Azzi mumbled.
Paige’s nose scrunched. “No, I actually think this could kill me.”
Azzi rolled her eyes. “Just take a bite, I promise it’s good.” She said, holding up the spoon filled with cottage cheese up to Paige’s mouth.
The blonde’s lips rolled out. Despite her comments she opened her mouth and allowed Azzi to feed her. The second the cheese hit her taste buds she took the spoon out and leaned over to the sink.
Paige spit the stuff out of her mouth and made a dramatic gagging sound. The brunette rolled her eyes watching the whole thing go down. “You're so dramatic,” Azzi grumbled.
Paige rinsed her mouth out with water. When she was done, she finally looked up at Azzi who had the spoon—that was just in her mouth—now in hers. She blushed instantly at the sight.
Her blue eyes watched the way Azzi’s lips had wrapped around the spoon. Paige’s breath hitched when their eyes met. Get a grip Bueckers, Paige thought to herself.
Their moment was ruined when Makayla screamed from across the yard. “I got a texttt,” she squealed.
“What does it say?” An islander who was sitting on a beanbag shouted.
Makayla looked down at her phone. “Islanders, it's time to test your connections with your partners for this challenge. Today, you guys will be parents for 24 hours and the couple who does the best will earn themselves a date away from the villa 🤰🏝️.” She read off.
“Wait, so are we gonna get those robot babies? Like the ones who have a computer inside of them and grades how we take care of them.” Paige asked when she and Azzi finally made it over to Makayla.
“That’s what it seems like,” Makayla mumbled.
Azzi let out a groan. “Fuck, this is like my worst fear,” she pouted. The thought of being a mother made her want to puke. Don’t get her wrong, babies are cute but the thought of going through motherhood just irked something inside of her.
Paige turned her head over to Azzi. “Why do you say that?” She asked.
The brunette shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve always had this weird fear of having and taking care of a baby.”
“Welp, I guess today is the day you get over your fear. But on the bright side you have me to help you.” Paige smirked.
Azzi gave Paige the biggest fake smile ever. “I’m so excited.” The sarcastic tone in her voice made Paige pinch her side softly.
Just when Paige was about to ask a question, Kenzie showed up with her clipboard in her hands. “Alright everyone, go find the person you are coupled up with and stand there. It's time to pass out the babies.”
Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist. Her chin was on the top of the brunette’s head as she waited for it to be their turn. “Here you go,” Kenzie said, giving the two girls two realistic baby robots.
The brunette’s eyebrows frowned. “Wait, we have to take care of two of them?” she said as she held both of the babies in her arms.
The blonde gasped loudly. “Why do you sound disappointed? Azzi these are our kids. Don't say that around them." Paige reached out to take one of the babies from Azzi’s arms. She covered its ear with her free hand acting as if the baby could hear what they were talking about.
Azzi let out a sigh. “Really?” she groaned out. She cradled the other baby that was still in her arms making its head rest against her chest.
Paige nodded her head. “Yes, really. Now come on, we gotta go get the supplies to take care of our children.” She said, Paige didn't give Azzi time to say anything back; she just led the way and walked over to the other production workers.
An hour later, Paige and Azzi found themselves sitting under a cabana. Paige had on a baby carrier that held Ava—the name Paige insisted on naming the baby when she realized it was a girl. Azzi sat beside her holding their other baby girl and feeding her with a bottle.
“You know, you are really taking this whole parenting thing very seriously,” Azzi said. Her eyes dropped down watching as Paige patted Ava’s back.
Paige turned her head over to Azzi. “What if I'm taking it seriously because I want us to win that date.” She rasped out and grinned hard at her own words.
Azzi rolled her eyes. She ignored the way her cheeks burned at Paige’s words and how she felt a fuzzy feeling in her chest. “You're so damn cheesy,” she groaned. Azzi hates to admit it but the sight of Paige taking care of a fake baby is really doing something to her.
“Don’t curse around our children ma.” Paige snapped for the tenth time in a five-minute span.
“They can’t even hear us.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “I don’t need my children growing up and using that language. The moms will talk Azzi, and I don’t want to be one of those parents they talk shit about every day.”
Azzi blinked. “Paige, this is literally a challenge. What are you talking about?” A full blown pout was on Azzi’s face.
Before Paige could answer Azzi, Ava stared crying—loudly. The blonde sat up and started patting Ava's back again. "Shh, honey. Calm down, you don't need to do all of that," she said softly.
Paige used her free hand to grab a bottle out of the backpack beside her. Ava immediately shut up when Paige put the bottle in her mouth. Azzi just watched the whole scene in front of her.
"You would be a good mom," Azzi mumbled out.
The blonde blushed at Azzi's words. She smirked at Azzi and gave her a playful wink. "Oh, but I'm the cheesy one," Paige teased.
"Paige," Azzi whined. "I was trying to be nice," she huffed out. Her eyes widened when Carl—the other baby they were taking care of—started crying.
"Fuck-," Azzi cursed underneath her breath. She ignored Paige snapping at her about her language as she tried looking for another bottle.
The brunette started panicking when Carl didn't stop crying when she put the bottle in his mouth. "Paige, he won't shut up," she whined, not knowing what else to do.
"have you changed his diaper yet?"
Azzi froze at Paige's question. fuck, she thought. How could she forget about that? She turned over to look at and rolled her eyes up at the blonde.
"Oh no. You got that, I'm not doing it," Paige laughed. Azzi didn't even have to bribe her or say anything.
Azzi groaned in defeat. "Just say that you don't like me," she mumbled out. It took everything in her to not laugh at how she sounded.
Paige rolled her eyes. "Don't even try to pull that card," she said as she patted Ava's back to burp her.
The brunette held Carl with one of her arms while her other hand dug through the backpack beside Paige. "Fuck-, did we run out of diapers?" she asked the blonde beside her who was watching her.
"Probably. These babies shit like crazy." Paige grumbled.
"Oh but you can curse but I can't?"
Paige tilted her head to the side and kissed her teeth. "We can argue later. Carl is still crying."
Azzi hated to admit that Paige was right. She laid out a blanket on the couch beside Paige. Azzi carefully placed Carl down on the blanket. "Watch him for a second," she told Paige.
She ran over to the booth that was in the middle of the grassy field. Azzi grabbed a couple of diapers and whips and ran back over to Paige. She quickly changed Carl's diaper and threw away the older diaper and used whips.
Paige just watched her with a loving smile. "What?" Azzi said with her eyebrow arched. Paige had been staring at her this whole time and she had no idea why she was.
"Nothing, you just look so beautiful right now." Paige said. She held her arm for Azzi to snuggle into her side which she did.
Azzi dug her head into Paige's neck. "You look so silly with that baby sling on," she whispered with a small laugh.
Paige's mouth dropped a little. "Whatever," she grunted. Paige leaned the side of her head onto Azzi's making their temples touch. "I low-key think we are doing good at this whole parenting thing," she added. Her eyes watched as the other islanders scrambled around and the sound of different babies crying.
The brunette laughed and leaned further into Paige. "Yeah, you're right." she mumbled.
"So…can I get a kiss now?" Paige asked. She just remembered that she didn't get a kiss earlier today.
Azzi rolled her eyes and grabbed the side of Paige's face with her free hand. "I guess," she mumbled before she interlocked their lips together. Paige groaned into the kiss and tilted her head to the side to deepen it.
Before Paige could run her tongue over Azzi's bottom lip, one of their babies started crying—again. Paige groaned and pulled away from Azzi's plumped lips. "Can't believe I just got cock blocked by my own child." She said, making Azzi laugh.
Later that night, Azzi and Paige stood beside each other in the bathroom. They both had on baby slings wrapped around their bodies. When they walked into the bedroom they both put Ava and Carl in the baby bassinet beside their bed and went to sleep.
During the night, Paige and Azzi both took turns getting up with the babies. Azzi almost wanted to cry when the blinds raised up and a faint 'good morning islanders' echoed throughout the room.
Even though they were taking turns, the babies kept crying every hour, along with every other couple's babies. Azzi had to put extra concealer under her eyes as she got ready. Ava was beside her feet in a bassinet. She was honestly being so quiet that azzi forgot she was there for a second.
A big smile stretched across her face when Paige walked into the room with breakfast. Azzi pressed a kiss onto Paige's check and happily took the plate of food. "Thank you so much honey."
Azzi ate the avocado toast quickly so she could get back to her makeup. Paige sat in the empty chair beside her, watching her in awe as she ran her hand up and down Ava's back.
The brunette ended up wearing a burnt red almost orange color strapless bralette. There was a bow tied just above her sternum. the strings of the bow hung low and stopped in the middle of her stomach. The material of the bralette was a lace that matched with her prominent tan lines. Instead of a skirt, which she usually ops for, she wore cutoff jeans that were short enough to just tease the swell of her ass. For accessories, Azzi wore pure gold rings, one on her left hand which connected, by a thin line of gold string, to a thin gold bracelet on her wrist.
Azzi replaced her belly button piercing to a dangling one. Three amber gems dangled from her lower belly button and stopped just an inch and a half below it. Her curls were styled into a loose bun. A few curls framed her face. Azzi wore her face somewhat bare today. The only thing she had on was concealer, mascara, and a little bit of lip gloss.
Finally, she paired the outfit with gold kitten heels. The straps of the heels wrapped around her ankle and topped just above it. Azzi got up from the chair and did a small spin for Paige. "Do you like it?" She asked, running her hands down the fabric of her shorts and lower.
Azzi finally looked up to look at Paige's face when she didn't get a response. Paige's mouth was dropped to the floor and her eyes were locked on Azzi's navel piercing. "You look divine." She eventually said when she was able to move her jaw to talk.
The brunette laughed at Paige's word choice. "That's a new word. I'm honestly surprised that you know it." she teased.
"I've been so bored recently I had to beg Kenzie to give me something to do. And she gave me a damn dictionary and said that 'I need to read it' whatever that means." Paige complained with an eye roll.
Azzi laughed and moved to wrap her arms around Paige's neck. "You're so cute," she said, giving Paige a big smile. Her eyes trailed down to get a good look of Paige's outfit up close.
Paige was wearing Timberland shoes and faded blue barrel jeans with her grey Calvin Klein boxers intentionally peeking out above the waistline. On top was a collared white shirt paired with a black tie that wrapped around her neckline and under the collar snugly, going just past the midpoint of her chest. But this time, surprising Azzi, her hair was down in waves and slightly smudged mascara shadowed her eyes.
The blonde's heart doubled in size at how Azzi's dimples popped out at her outfit choice. Just when Paige was about to lean in to close the gap between them a crying sound was heard. "I actually can't wait until this challenge is over. Our children keep cock blocking us," Paige grumbled underneath her breath.
Azzi let out a small laugh. She pressed a small kiss onto Paige's cheek and bent down to pick up carl who was still in the bassinet. They walked side by side out of the dressing room and down to soul ties.
For the next hour, they chatted about random things. Azzi mostly talked about the food she missed outside of the villa and how she wished she had a book right now. Paige mainly talked about how she missed playing basketball and how she wished that there was a basketball hoop right here in the villa.
Paige had jumped up in the air from excitement when her phone went off. She grabbed it and smiled big. "Guys! I got a textt!" she shouted. Her voice echoed across the field making the other islander run over to them.
"Read what it says," Azzi said. She was peaking over the blonde's shoulder, trying to read the message but the sunlight was making it hard to understand.
"Islanders, It's time to see which couple won the date. Please meet Ariana by the firepit." Paige read.
Everyone walked over to the firepit with their babies. Azzi was holding Ava while Paige was holding Carl. Everyone waited patiently for Ariana to make her way over to them.
Azzi's mouth dropped when Ariana started walking over to them. She let out a small whistle as the host made it closer to them. "You look gorgeous," Azzi complemented when she got closer to the pit.
Ariana grinned. "Thank you Azzi. You look beautiful. I love how that color looks on you." she complemented back.
The brunette waved her face acting as if her face was extremely hot. Paige watched the whole interaction with one of her eyebrows arched. "Again, should I be worried?" she mumbled out whispering it into Azzi's ear.
Azzi just grinned at Paige but didn't say anything. "Okay islanders, it's time to see which couple won the challenge." Ariana announced to the group.
There was a long and dramatic pause. Azzi bit her lip as she waited for the host to open her mouth again. Her free hand was interlocked with Paige's and her knee bounced rapidly.
"Azzi and Paige, you guys have won the challenge." Ariana finally said.
The couples around the two girls clapped. Paige and Azzi both had a big smile on their faces at the announcement. "Please, come join me up here," Ariana added.
Azzi and Paige stood up with their children and walked over to the spot Ariana wanted them to be in. "Your jetski is waiting for you at the dock." Both the girls turned their heads to the dock at Ariana's words. Paige was bouncing on the heels of her feet while Azzi had one of her arms wrapped around Paige's arm.
"Wait-, do we have to take the robot babies?" Azzi asked.
Ariana just laughed and shook her head. "Nope. You can hand the babies over." The host extended her arms out and took the two babies.
Azzi and Paige walked hand and hand to the dock. "Do you wanna drive?" Azzi asked when the jet ski was now in front of them. "Wait-, do you even know how to drive one of these things?" She added.
Paige shrugged her shoulders. "Nah-, I don't but it can't be that hard."
The brunette's heart fell to her stomach at Paige's words. "I'm actually terrified right now," she explained. Azzi watched as Paige hopped onto the jetski and patted the seat behind her with her hand.
"I promise everything will be fine. Just don't let go of me."
Just before Azzi was about to take a seat behind Paige, a realization hit her. "Wait, Paige. We need to put on a life jacket," she said. Azzi walked over to where the life jackets were.
Azzi grabbed the pink one and put it on. She walked over to Paige with a purple jacket in her hands and offered it to Paige. "Bro-, I don't need that shit." Paige complained.
The brunette rolled her eyes. "Paige, put it on. Please," she dragged out. Paige didn't give in until Azzi had rolled her bottom lip out and looked at her with pleading eyes.
Finally after a few minutes, they got situated onto the jetski. Azzi arms were wrapped around Paige's waist tightly as Paige drove them across the ocean. "Paige! Slow down," Azzi shouted when the blonde ramped up the speed.
Paige laughed. "This is so much fun," she shouted.
Azzi rested her forehead against the back of Paige's shoulder. "At least you are having fun," she grumbled. Azzi closed her eyes and didn't open them until they came to a stop.
She opened her eyes when Paige tapped on her leg. Azzi let out a small gasp when she saw it: it was another island that had rose petals leading to what had looked like a picnic by the water.
Paige took Azzi's hand and led her over to the white blanket that was spread out. The blonde moved the brown basket that had their food inside so she and Azzi could sit close together.
Inside the basket were two wine glasses along with a bottle of red wine. For their food it was two sandwiches along with some pineapple. They both ate in silence, listening to the waves crashing along the shore.
After they were done eating, Azzi's legs found their way into Paige's lap. She played with the blonde's blonde hair while Paige ran her hand up and down her thigh. "What makes you happy?" Azzi asked out of nowhere. Her brown eyes were locked on Paige's side profile as she waited for an answer.
Paige let out a small hum as she thought about the question. "I would say coaching. I loved playing basketball; my whole dream was to play in the WNBA. When I faced that bad injury and had to step back from something that I loved so much, It really took a toll on me. It took me a while to accept the fact that I wasn't gonna be able to play for the league and in general; it broke me. But, I found coaching and I love it so much. I love teaching my players and I love how even though I'm not actually playing the game I'm still coaching."
Azzi smiled at the way she could see Paige's mood lighten up as she kept talking. She scratched lightly at Paige's scalp and let out a small laugh at how Paige leaned into the touch.
"What makes you happy?" Paige asked.
"I would say helping others. I get a little rush of joy even if I'm helping someone with something little. It makes me happy when I see how happy they get when I help them."
Paige nodded her head in agreement. "What's one of your favorite memories?" she asked. The space around them was comfortable the faint smell of salt water and the sound of the waves were really peaceful.
The brunette let out a small giggle before she started talking. "One of my favorite memories is of me getting my dog when I was about fifteen. I remember I had to bribe my parents for months for me to get a dog. They ended up surprising me with one on my birthday and I started bawling my eyes out." there was a weird feeling in her throat as she spoke. Azzi didn't realize how much she had missed Stewie until now.
"Awe, that's so cute." Paige jumped in her spot a little when an idea formed in her head. "maybe Blue and Stewie can meet whenever we leave the villa." she said excitedly.
Azzi smiled so hard that both of the dimples on her face showed up. "I would love that." She said, leaning her body more onto Paige's.
"Alright, next question. What are your fears?" Azzi asked.
Paige looked up at the sky, admiring the light pink and blue colors as she thought to herself. "I would say ending up alone. That is one of my biggest fears." She turned her head to look at Azzi. "What is one of your biggest fears?" She asked.
"I was gonna say being pregnant, which is one of them. But my worst fear is never finding real love. I want to be with someone who loves me for me. Someone who I can wake up in the morning with and not stress about how I look because I would know that they wouldn't care about what I looked like. They would just be happy to be in my presence and with me. And I was honestly having a hard time finding that considering I went on a dating show," Azzi said, letting out a small and forced laugh.
When Azzi turned her head she was met with Paige's eyes. The blonde's eyes were now dark and her bottom lip was in between her teeth. "That was also one of my reasons for auditioning for this show," Paige said.
Azzi smiled. "Do you think you have found someone you like and are really passionate about?" Her voice was soft as she talked. Azzi's heart felt like it was beating out of her chest from Paige going silent.
Paige's eyes moved from Azzi's eyes to her plumped lips and back up to her eyes. "Yeah, I have." Her voice was filled with confidence.
Azzi's eyes sparkled at Paige's words. She was smiling so hard that her face was starting to hurt. "I think I found someone too," she agreed. Her voice was so light that paige could barely hear her.
The blonde's eyebrow arched. "You think?" She questioned. She tiled her head to the side a bit as her face inched closer to Azzi's
The brunette rolled her eyes. "I know," she corrected. "Now, shut up and kiss me already," she snapped. She was done with the little waiting game that was happening at the moment.
Paige laughed. She launched her head forward, leaving no space between them as she connected their lips. Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige's neck. She tugged Paige towards her, allowing her back to hit the blanket and for paige to hover over her.
Azzi wrapped her legs around Paige's waist, pulling the blonde even closer to where both of their fronts were touching. She let out a small moan when Paige's tongue swiped over her bottom lip asking for entrance.
She opened her mouth, allowing Paige's tongue to explore every inch of her mouth. Azzi's nails dug into Paige's back as the kiss continued to deepen.
When Paige pulled away, a string of spit allowed her lips that were connected to Azzi's lips. The blondes blue eyes looked up at Azzi's sore and swollen lips and then she looked back up Azzi's eyes.
She didn't even have to ask for another kiss; Azzi just tug her downward and interlocked their lips again. This kiss was more slow but still passionate.
Azzi pulled away with a laugh at how breathless paige was. She moved one of her hands to tuck a strand of hair that was in Paige's face behind her ear.
"So…are you still questioning on if you found someone?" Paige asked when she was finally able to catch her breath.
Azzi let out a groan. She rested her head more back onto the blanket as a sign of defeat. "You just ruined the moment," she mumbled.
Paige's eyes widened at her words. "Wait-, I'm sorry I was just kidding. Can I get another kis-"
The brunette cut her off. "No, because you ruined the moment." Her arms were now crossed over her chest. A pout formed on her lips and her eyes were narrowed as she stared at Paige.
"Bro-," Paige couldn't even finish her sentence again because Azzi interrupted her again.
"Don't call me 'bro.'" She snapped.
"Okay, I'm sorry. Princess, can I please get another kiss?" Paige begged.
Azzi bit her lip and eventually rolled her eyes. "I guess," she mumbled before she tugged Paige back down to her face.
—
COMMENTS UNDER EPISODE NINE OF ISLANDERS IN PARADISE:
Ilovecats: Paige getting mad at Azzi for cussing around their children while she did the same is actually so funny💀. 2m likes
pazzistan: I'm so happy that Paige and Azzi won the date. 800k likes
paigelover: no because can we talk about Azzi's outfit for this episode. My mouth dropped at the fit because of how gorgeous she looked🤭. 3m likes
↪️pazzistand replied to paigelover: my mouth watered I swear. 500k likes
random32: Kenzie giving paige a dictionary is so damn funny 700k likes
paigelover: i wished they showed us that interaction. I just know Paige was mad about receiving the dictionary. 500k likes
azziandpaige4life: did anyone else see the way Paige was looking at azzi when she showed off her outfit to her 2m likes
↪️unknown replied to azziandpaige4life: she's so down bad and it's literally so cute 300k likes
ilovepasta: awee paige and azzi making plans outside the villa is so adorable🥹 I don't think you guys understand how much I'm rooting for them. 5m likes
↪️azziissohot replied to ilovepasta: honestly, I think the producers should just give them the money alr. 4m likes
—
Azzi woke up in the morning to something pressing down on her stomach. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms above her chest. Azzi moved the comforter off of her body revealing a passed out Paige who was sleeping on her stomach.
She ran her fingers through Paige's messy blonde hair. Azzi stopped her hand when Paige started moving in her sleep. The blonde eventually lifted up her head and her tired eyes met Azzi's.
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" Azzi asked. She moved the loose pieces of hair out of Paige's face as she talked.
Paige nodded her head slowly. There was a small line of droll that ran from the side of her lip down to her chin. Azzi moved her hand and used her thumb to whip it away.
"I slept so good," Paige eventually said. Her voice was raspy. She moved off of Azzi and got up from the bed. She stretched her arms above her head and let out a groan that she couldn't control.
She smirked at how Azzi's face turned a faint pink color at the noise. "Do you want your usual for breakfast?" She asked.
Azzi nodded her head. "Yes please," she said and got out of bed as well. The two had parted ways after they got done with their morning routines.
The brunette found herself doing her makeup in the dressing room. Her curly hair was clipped back and out of her face as she set her makeup. Azzi touched up on her winged eyeliner and lip liner before she rammed through her closet to look for a bikini.
She ended up settling on a deep purple triangle bikini top. The straps of the top wrapped around her neck and pushed the curve of her boobs up. The bottoms were the same color and the straps rested directly on her hip bones.
Azzi styled her hair in the same bun she did yesterday with a few strands framing her face. She sat in her seat in front of her vanity mirror as she waited for Paige. Azzi's face lit up when Paige came into the room. Paige was wearing a bikini top similar to Azzi's but hers was a lighter purple. And same color trunks of course.
Paige had a plate and a cup in her hand that was filled halfway with orange juice. "I love your outfit," Azzi said once Paige got closer to her.
She watched as the blonde's cheeks turned a bright red color. "Thank you," Paige rasped out. She placed a small kiss onto Azzi's cheek and another one on the girl's lips.
Once Azzi was done with her breakfast, her and Paige walked down to the open gym. Azzi sat beside Paige watching as the blonde did pull ups. her eyes were focused on how Paige's arms flexed with every pull-up. The sunlight made Paige's arms look even more heavenly.
Azzi wanted nothing more than to feel up on Paige's arms. Her palms flexed a little, acting like she could already imagine how they would feel in her hands. Her thoughts started to become too overpowering she finally just gave in and got up from her seat.
She walked over to Paige who was now standing off to the side beside the machine. Her head was tilted away from Azzi looking off into the distance at the ocean while she drank from her water bottle.
The brunette reached out and grabbed at Paige's bicep. She bit her bottom lip until it stung. Her thumb ran over some of the small beads of sweat on Paige's tan skin and her eyes glistened with admiration.
Paige jerked her head to Azzi's direction. "Like what you see?" Paige said with a huge smirk on her face.
At first Azzi didn't respond; she just kept feeling up on Paige's muscle. "I love what I see. I had to get up from my seat and get a better view up close. And also get a feel." Azzi responded after a minute.
The blonde's nose scrunched as she leaned more towards where Azzi was standing. Paige's smirk deepened when she saw Azzi's body stiffen up when she leaned into whisper into the girl's ear.
"Keep it in your pants, Fudd." She teased before she pulled away.
Azzi let out a groan and pushed at Paige's shoulder. "That doesn't even make sense. I'm just touching your arm, nothing more." She pouted.
Paige just laughed and gave her a knowing look. "Be serious. You looked like you were about to jump my bones. The look that was in your eyes told a different story." She said, her tongue ran over her bottom lip. Paige's eyes didn't miss the way Azzi's eyes tracked the motion.
Before Azzi could defend herself, another voice joined in. "yeah, Az. You looked like you were about to devour Paige." Alex chimed in. Azzi turned her head to the direction of Alex's voice.
"I don't need your input," she snapped.
Paige laughed. she reached out to wrap her arms around Azzi's waist. "It's okay mama. Don't get upset. Shit, I mean, I would do it too if I were you."
Azzi rolled her eyes and moved out of Paige's grasp. 'You're so full of yourself," she grumbled. Azzi walked over to the pool with her arms crossed over her chest with a huge pout on her face. She ignored how she could hear Paige's steps from behind her, following her like a lost puppy.
She ignored Paige's comments as she sat in one of the lounge chairs by the pool. Azzi ignored Paige's presence a bit until she said: "I like when you look at me like that." That is what made Azzi turn her head over to where Paige was sitting which was right beside her.
"Like what?" Azzi said softly.
Paige shook her head a little. "Like I'm the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. or not really me, mainly just my arms." She flexed her arms a bit making Azzi's cheeks turn a dark cinnamon color.
"That's not true." Azzi mumbled underneath her breath. "It's not just your arms."
The blonde laughed and just launched herself at Azzi with no warning. "You like me," she sang softly. The side of her face was resting just above Azzi's heartbeat. The smile on Paige's face was sappy.
Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige's waist. "Of course I like you. I wouldn't be coupled up with you if I didn't."
—
COMMENTS UNDER EPISODE TEN OF ISLANDERS IN PARADISE:
@loveazandp: Azzi is so real for staring at paige's arms like that. 5m likes
@azziismygf: does anyone know if paige and azzi are closed off? 500k likes
@ilovecats replied to @azziismygf: no I don't think they are. 2k likes
@azziismygf: oh, that's weird. 200 likes
@ilovecats replied to @azziismygf: to me, it's honestly not. I feel like the feelings they have towards each other are real. But they have only known each other for three weeks. maybe they are taking it slow? (in a way) 300k likes
@paigesarms: paige and azzi give such golden retriever and black cat energy. 3m likes
@random replied to @paigesarms: I WAS JUST THINKING THIS!! 1k likes
@iloveanimals: I need to find a women who looks at me the way paige and azzi look at each other. 4m likes
@azziissopretty replied to @iloveanimals: REAL!!!! 200k likes
—
"Who's your favorite artist?" Paige asked. She was sitting with Azzi's legs in her lap. Her hand ran up and down Azzi's legs.
"I would say Olivia Dean is my favorite artist right now." Azzi said as she relaxed more into the cushion, she was resting her back on.
"that's a good one. What's your favorite song by her?"
Azzi let out a small 'hum' as she thought to herself. so easy to fall in love or a couple minutes. I had those two songs on repeat before I got to the villa." She was startled a bit when paige sat up straighter in her seat out of excitement.
"I love those songs too!" Paige agreed.
The brunette turned her head over to Paige and leaned it onto the blonde's chest. "Who's your favorite artist?" she asked. Azzi had closed her eyes for a second, taking in the calm atmosphere around them and how good Paige smelled.
"Drake." Paige said instantly without a thought.
Azzi rolled her eyes. "Well honestly that makes sense." she mumbled.
Paige's eyebrow arched at that. "What is that supposed to mean?" She asked. One of her hands was now resting on Azzi's waist.
"Nothing, It's just I can see you liking his music. That's all." Azzi explained. She sat up and got off of the coach they were sitting on.
She dusted off the dirt that she could feel on her skin. When she turned her body around, so her front was now facing Paige's, she was met with a bright red Paige. "You, okay?" Azzi asked. She was honestly worried because of how red Paige's face was at the moment.
Paige cleared her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine." she was everything but fine at the moment. Her breath was caught in her throat from Azzi's ass being all up in her face.
Azzi just raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. "let's go put some sunscreen on your face. I think the sun is making your face really red," she explained.
this has nothing to do with the sun, Paige thought. But either way she still allowed Azzi to drag her to the dressing room to apply a layer of sunscreen onto her face.
Well, shit. Maybe it was the sun a little bit, she thought when she instantly felt pain from Azzi touching her face. Paige let out a hiss and her jaw clenched together.
Azzi removed her hand from Paige's face like it was burned. "Are you okay honey?" She asked. She felt horrible that she accidently hurt Paige.
Paige just nodded her head. This time it didn't hurt as bad when Azzi went back to applying the liquid. Once Azzi was done, she placed a small kiss onto the side of Paige's neck.
"Let's go find something to put on your sunburn to make it better." Azzi said. She grabbed onto Paige's hand and led her to the kitchen.
"A kiss from you would make it better," Paige said. When Azzi turned around, she had a smug look on her face. Right when the two stepped into the kitchen, Mark had pulled Azzi aside to do one of her confessionals for the day.
"Sorry for interrupting," he mumbled as he and Azzi walked to the confessional room.
"You know, Paige was right. You do have really good timing. At least this timing. At least this time we weren't cuddling or worse." Azzi said with a shrug.
Azzi sat on the couch in front of the camera mark already set up. She waited patiently. She ran her hands up and down her thighs, watching mark get his stuff situated.
She cleared her throat when she got the go-ahead signal to start talking. "I find it cute when Paige is checking me out and freezes when she gets caught. Sometimes I act like I don't know what's going on but I do. And I know for a fact her face wasn't just red from being sun burnt." Azzi smirked as if she was proud of herself.
"Good job, do you want a prize from figuring that out?" Marks voice was filled with boredom and sarcasm.
Azzi pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. "Whatever," she mumbled underneath her breath.
After her confessional, she went out to find Paige. Azzi saw that she had moved from the kitchen to the gym area and was talking to Alex. When she made it over to them, she made herself comfortable in Paige's lap.
"Well hello to you too," Alex said. She had a grin on her face while her arms were wrapped around Jessica.
Azzi got herself situated in Paige's lap before she responded back. "Hi. Are you gonna tease me about yesterday again?" She asked, referring to when she got made fun of for checking Paige out.
Alex just laughed but before she could say anything Jessica grabbed her attention. Thank God, Azzi thought. She turned her head over to Paige and gave her a smile.
"Did you rub the aloe Vera on your face? I don't want your sunburn to get worse."
Paige grinned. "Yes mama, I did. Don't worry." She said, Paige wrapped her arms tighter around Azzi's body like she was gonna vanish any second.
Azzi nodded her head in approval. Her body jumped in Paige's lap when an alarm sound came from Paige's phone beside them. She reached over to grab it to view the message on the screen.
"Guys, I got a texxtt," azzi yelled.
She waited until the other islanders made their way over to the gym area to read out the text. "Islanders, I hope you guys are ready to get wet because you guys are about to learn more about your other islanders in the villa. Please, make your way over to Ariana who is already waiting for you." She read.
Her eyes looked up and she instantly met with Ariana's who was across from them and around the corner beside the villa. Azzi grabbed onto Paige's hand as they all walked together to greet the host.
"Hello, islanders," Ariana said with a big smile.
A collection of 'hi's came from the islanders. Everyone surrounded Ariana and a pool with a water slide. Behind the pool was an open bar that had already made drinks and a stack of cards.
"For this challenge, I will be splitting you guys up into two groups. One group will stand side by side in a line while an islander from the other group slides down this slide," Ariana took her eyes off of the group of girls to point at the slide behind her. "Into the pool," she added on.
"After you make it into the pool, you will go to the mini bar and grab a drink and a card. On the card it has a random fact about one of the islanders that are standing in the line. You will read out the fact and throw the drink onto the islander you believe the fact is about. There is going to be a line of removable tape at the bottom of the card that reveals which islander the fact was about which you will reveal after you have already made your decision."
Everyone nodded their heads in understanding Ariana's instructions. "Now, you couples are going to split up into two groups, so you guys are in the same team." Right after Ariana said that Paige along with other islanders made their way over to Ariana.
Now, Paige and Azzi were facing each other. Paige's hands were interlocked behind her back as she rocked on her heels. She watched as Jessica made her way up the stairs before sliding down the slide. She bit her lip anxiously as Jessica stood in front of her with a card and drink in her hand.
"This islander islander tells the truth but not the whole truth during any circumstance." Jessica read. After she read it, she instantly walked over to Elaine who was to the far right.
"Sorry," Jessica mumbled out before she threw the drink at her.
Elaine let out a gasp at how cold the drink was. Her body shivered a bit as Jessica removed the tape to reveal which islander the statement was about. "I was right," she said with a smile.
The next person to slide down the slide was Azzi. Paige licked her lips at the water that was dripping down her body which made her skin glisten. Azzi walked up and down in front of the line of girls with a card in her hand and a drink.
"This islander's love language is to annoy the person they like." Azzi read. When she looked up from the card she met Paige's eyes. She smirked and threw the drink onto Paige's body without hesitation.
"Damn, bro-. Did you have to throw it on my face?" Paige complained. Her hand ran down her face to whip it.
"Sorry, honey. It was the wind that did that. I was aiming for your stomach," she lied. Azzi wasn't even surprised when she pulled back the tape. "I knew I was right," she mumbled before she made her way back to her group.
The challenge went on for another ten minutes before the team's switched places. Azzi would be lying if she said she wasn't scared. She didn't know if Paige was just gonna throw a drink at her just to get back at her or not.
Everyone watched as Abby made her way down the slide and walked over to the bar. The second she made her way to the group standing in a line Azzi knew something was off. Her eyes narrowed at the girl as a smirk appeared on Abby's face.
"This islander has a past of taking other people's partners while they are in a relationship." She read. Abby smirked and walked down the line of people and stopped when she was now standing in front of Azzi. She didn't even say anything; she just threw the drink onto Azzi with a grin.
Azzi ran her hand down her face to whip away the liquid. Some of her curly hair stuck to the sides of her face and goosebumps appeared on her arms. She licked her lips and looked at Abby with an unfazed expression.
"Damn, you really thought you did something there." Azzi said with a shrug.
A few of the islanders—including Paige laughed while Abby groaned. "You're still mad about what happened in the past?" Azzi asked, referring to when Abby and Paige had that conversation about their 'relationship'.
Azzi had to hold back her laugh when Abby didn't answer her; she just walked away. The brunette rolled her eyes and looked at Paige who was already looking at her.
She forced out a smile and waved Paige off. Azzi mouthed, 'it's fine,' before she brought her attention back to the person who was sliding down the slide now.
After the challenge, Azzi and Paige made their way over to soul ties. They both laid beside each other on their stomachs and stared off into the view in front of them. "What was that whole interaction between you and Abby about?" Paige asked.
Azzi shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I think she has like one-sided beef with me." She asked before she took a long sip of her tea that was in the mug she was holding.
"That shit is actually so annoying. You didn't even do anything to her."
"I think she's mad because we are coupled up and have a good connection." Azzi said and took another sip of her tea. She silently offered her mug to Paige which she took into her hands and took a sip as well.
Paige's face scrunched when the warm liquid hit her taste buds. "What the hell is that?" she asked after she swallowed the tea. It took everything in her to not spit it out of her mouth.
"It's supposed to be good for your immune system and digestion. I think that was on the packet as well." Azzi informed. She took the warm mug from Paige's hands and drank it like it actually tasted good.
The blonde's eyebrows scrunched while she tilted her head to the side. "Are you gonna be this much of a healthy freak outside of the villa too?" Paige asked. Curiosity filled her voice.
Azzi raised a brow at her. "Is it going to be a problem if I am?"
Paige laughed and shook her head. "No, as long as you don't try to make me eat that nasty feet feeling thing." she explained poorly.
"Do you mean cottage cheese?"
"Yes! That's stuff. I wanted to throw up when you made me eat it." Paige's face was still scrunched in disgust as if she could still taste it in her mouth.
Azzi rolled her eyes. "Being healthy is not gonna kill you." she mumbled.
Paige made a small 'tsk' with her mouth. "That shit might actually kill me." Her voice had a serious tone to it. Azzi laughed softly at how Paige was reacting. She hated how she couldn't hold her laugh in and just before she knew it, Paige was on top of her.
Paige pressed kisses all over Azzi's face. She pouted when Azzi tilted her head to the side so she couldn't kiss her lips. "Denying me a kiss is actually insane." She groaned.
The brunette rolled her eyes. She wrapped her arms around Paige's neck and pulled her downwards to connect their lips. Azzi kept the kiss short. When she pulled away, she bit at Paige's bottom lip and tugged on it before she fully pulled away. She let out a small giggle when Paige tried chasing after her lips for more.
"You're such a tease," Paige pouted. She shoved her face into the side of Azzi's neck and pressed small kisses onto her skin. Azzi giggled and pulled Paige forward.
—
COMMENTS UNDER EPISODE ELEVEN OF ISLANDERS IN PARADISE:
@hoes4pazzi: Thank you, computa. You did well. 8B likes
@azzigf: bro can someone boo Abby off of my island? I’m so sick of her. 5M likes
@random: ABBY GET OUT OF MY VILLA FRFR 6B likes
—
"Okay, say that if you could be any animal; what animal would you be?" Paige asked. She was rocked back and forth on her heels as she waited for Azzi to finish whatever the hell she was making.
Azzi froze at Paige's question. "What?" she asked, not even knowing what to even say.
"Just answer the question."
The brunette rolled her eyes. "I would probably be a cat," she said before she went back to cutting the avocado up. Azzi stopped after a second when an unknown wave of silence fell between them. A pair of eyes stared into the side of her face for so long that she couldn't ignore them anymore.
She turned her head over her shoulder to look at Paige. "Why are you lookin' at me like that?" Azzi asked.
Paige just blinked. "A cat really? You would want to be a cat?" The blonde's voice was filled with judgment.
Azzi took a piece of the avocado and ate it before she responded. "I mean, I don't see why it's so crazy for wanting to be one. Have you never heard that saying that goes 'you are what you eat' or some shit like that."
It took Paige a full thirty seconds to understand what Azzi was referring to. her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly. Paige's cheeks turned a cherry color.
"You know what? yeah, I agree now that you said that." She tried to make her voice seem calm and collective, but it wasn't going so well with the way it cracked at the end.
The brunette let out a small laugh. "You're so cute," she mumbled. Azzi grabbed a piece of the avocado and held it up to Paige's lips. Her face heated up when Paige opened up her mouth and allowed her fingers in to eat the avocado.
"Freaks," Alex said.
A faint laugh came from another person's mouth causing Azzi to take her fingers out of Paige's mouth and to look in the direction the voices came from.
Azzi crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. "I swear you are always ruining the moment," she complained. Azzi looked over at Jessica who was standing beside Alex. "Can you please distract your girl so I can flirt and be freaky with mine?" She pleaded.
That sentence got Paige's attention. "Oh? I'm your girl?" She was actually shocked that Azzi said that. their relationship has been confusing honestly but then again; she didn't want to rush into anything.
"Nah-, your Abby's. Yes, you are my girl"
Paige's heart dropped to her ass at the mention of Abby's name. "You got jokes today huh," she grinned while she looped her arms around Azzi's waist.
Azzi let out a laugh. "Sorry, I just wanted to see the look on your face when I said that. And it was really funny. I could tell you got scared for a second." She giggled.
The blonde rolled her eyes. She pressed a small kiss onto Azzi's cheek and then pulled away. "You're my girl too," she purred with a smug look on her face.
The brunette bit her lip and just as she was about to open her mouth to say something Alex had beat her to it. "You guys are really cute. But like, can you please get out of the kitchen? I'm trying to eat my bagel in peace, and I don't want to see this," she motioned her hand out and waved at them.
Azzi rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she grumbled and grabbed Paige's hand so they could go somewhere where they wouldn't be interrupted—the speakeasy.
When they made it upstairs to the room Azzi locked the door behind them. Paige raised an eyebrow at that, "um, should I be worried?" she asked as she sat down on the leather couch.
Azzi shook her head as she walked over to Paige. She swayed her hips a bit and when she got closer to the blonde she straddled her lap. Her arms wrapped around Paige's waist. She didn't say anything; she just admired the beauty of Paige's face with her bottom lip in between her teeth.
Paige's hands went down to her hips. Her thumbs caressed Azzi's soft skin a little and her throat tightened. She cleared her throat, "soo…beautiful day isn't it."
The brunette rolled her eyes. "Just shut up and kiss me."
And Paige did just that. She launched herself forward interlocking their lips together. Paige leaned further back onto the sofa and took Azzi along with her. She moved her legs further with a part, digging her nails into the brunette's skin as the kiss deepened.
Azzi hummed into Paige's mouth. She moved her hips downward, searching for any type of pressure to help the annoying pain that was in between her legs. A small moan left her mouth that Paige happily swallowed.
She pulled away for a brief second to catch her breath. A wide smirk fell on her lips at how she watched Paige try to chase after her lips— like she always does when they kiss.
"God, you don't know what you are doing to me," Azzi groaned. The sight in front of her made her head spin and Paige wasn't even doing anything.
"I could say the same thing," Paige mumbled before she leaned back in for another kiss.
Without not being able to control herself, Azzi grinded her hips again onto Paige lap. Paige swallowed the whimper that had left Azzi's lips hungrily. She encouraged Azzi to keep grinding by helping her move her hips.
Azzi pulled away to press light kisses down the side of Paige's neck. Her hips didn't stop moving if anything they moved faster chasing after the way her clit was getting some kinda pressure—finally.
The tension between her and Paige was started to become too much for her to handle and the fact that she couldn't go anywhere to relief it pissed her off.
Her body went into a complete stop when a groan left Paige's lips. The sound hung in the room, echoing faintly. "Fuck-, you make such beautiful sounds." Azzi whimpered.
Out of nowhere, Paige reached out and took off Azzi's mic necklace. She turned off the mic by pressing a button on the back of it and she did the same for hers. "Fuck mama-, you gotta get up for a second. I need to go cover that camera over there," she mumbled nodding her head in the direction the camera was sitting.
Azzi let out a small groan in annoyance. "I know, I'm sorry. I just don't want them to have footage of us you know..." she trailed off.
"But what if they get mad?"
"I don't care. I'll take the blame for it, I swear," she said, looking into Azzi's eyes. When Azzi nodded her head in understanding she helped her off of her lap.
Paige got up and grabbed the throw blanket that was on the end of the soft. She didn't even try to hide herself from the camera; she just walked right in front of it and they the blanket onto it.
A small laugh fell out of Azzi's mouth from how Paige had an extra prep in her step on her way back to the couch. This time though, Paige laid flat on her back with her head propped up on a pillow. Once she got situated, she tapped on her stomach encouraging Azzi to straddle it.
Azzi bit her lip and followed Paige's instructions. Her knees were planted on each side of Paige's waist. She arched her back and leaned forward to where both of their fronts where touching.
She held onto the side of Paige's face, caressing it. The tips of her fingers trailed down to the blonde's swollen and red lips. She used the tip of one of her finger to to trace over Paige's lips that had her lip combo on it.
"I think you should start wearing lip gloss. It looks really good on you," Azzi teased.
Paige tilted her head to the side while a confused look formed on her face. "What do you mean?"
"My lip combo is all over your face and neck," she explained.
"ohh," Paige dragged out. Both of the girl's just stared at each other for a second. "Well, I think we should use our time wisely before anyone realizes that out mics are off and a camera is covered."
Azzi smirked. "Yeah, you're right," she mumbled before she leaned forward again.
After fifteen minutes, Paige found herself outside of the speakeasy door. Her hand was up by her lips trying to whip off Azzi's lip gloss while Azzi was still in the room trying to get herself together.
Paige groaned when nothing was coming off of her mouth and onto her palm. She quickly made her way to the dressing room and looked through Azzi's makeup bag. She looked in front of the mirror that was in front of her, rubbing her skin until it was a red color to wash away the evidence of what she and Azzi have been doing.
Her heart dropped to her stomach when the dressing room door opened and closed. She let out a sigh in relief when she saw who it was—Alex.
"Wassup Paige, where have you bee—" Alex words went to a stop when she saw Paige's face. Her eyes skimmed over the blonde's chin and the red skin around her mouth. "Oh shit."
"Bro-, don't just stand there. Help me. I don't want the whole production team and everyone else to know that me and Azzi were making out for like twenty minutes straight.
Alex let out a groan before she complied. "I guess," she mumbled before she walked over to grab another makeup whip.
"Holy fuck Paige. It's bad," Alex said when she saw her neck.
"I know. Now, help me please," she pleaded again.
—
COMMENTS UNDER EPISODE TWELVE OF ISLANDERS IN PARADISE:
@pazzilover: wait am I trippin' or is the skin around Paige's lips stained? 4B likes
↪️@iloveazzi'sarms replied to @pazzilover: I clocked that too!! and Azzi's lip liner is a little messed up 2B likes
↪️@paigesbiggestfan replied to @iloveazzi'sarms : ouu shit👀 2M likes
↪️@ilovedogs replied to @paigesbiggestfan: they were kisssingggg 🙂↔️ 5M likes
@random: did anyone else hear a faint moaning sound for a bit before it cut off? 4B likes
↪️@ilovecats replied to @random: YES I HEARD IT TOO!! 300k likes
↪️@random replied to @ilovecats: I wonder who it was 🤔 400k likes
↪️@pazzi4ever replied to @random: I think I have an idea on who it was… 5M likes
@azzilover: bro Azzi is so funny💀 the cat joke and the Abby one 3M likes
↪️@ilovepaige replied to @azzilover: she had me giggling and the way you could tell Paige's heart dropped at the Abby joke😭 500k likes
@ilovemovies: DAMN i thought the sexual tension between paige and azzi would calm down after a bit but…if anything it's getting worse 5B likes
↪️@azzilovespaige replied to @ilovemovies: I really hope we can pick who's gonna go to the hideaway this seasonnn. I already know which couple I'm picking if we get to🤭 (pazzi) 6B likes
. ۫ ꣑ৎ . authors note: again, sorry about the long wait. also I did add in an anons request on what they wanted to see in the third chapter. and to the other people who also shared their ideas with me I promise I didn’t forget them! They will happen in the next chapter! :) don’t forget to tell me your thoughts! I hope you enjoyed reading <3
contains: themes of addiction, kid fic, exes to lovers, hate sex, LOTS of smut, eventual fluff, angst with a happy ending
wc: 12.1k
masterlist
a/n: guys stop flaming me for giving her a nicotine addiction i cant make her addicted to coke and then be like "but she still won shared custody of kitty and also she became sober bc she was pure of heart and there r no lingering health issues 🩷" u can’t tell me u have never been around a vaper and been like holy shit ur j genuinely irritated and anxious as fuck all the time + ur gross i don’t want to be around u. also sorry kam 🩷
chapter five
California is calm around her as Azzi drives herself to Paige’s house. Her windows are down, fresh air whistling through the openings and tousling her hair and nudging the heavy sunglasses perched on her nose. She’s playing an old The Chainsmokers song that buzzes when the bass gets heavy and sings out of her car. Paige’s neighborhood probably doesn’t appreciate it. She doesn’t really care.
It’s been two days since she had last hooked up with Paige. Two days since the horrible truth had hit her that she was, in fact, still in love with her ex-wife. That all those times looking for her at parties or the club were subconsciously more than the sex. She leans forward and turns the volume up like the music will drown out her feelings. She enters the code for Paige’s house, the lip of her car window digging into her armpit as she reaches her arm back in from punching it into the keypad.
Paige’s house is the same as it’s always looked. It’s different in her mind, because she’s now not only been inside of it but been dicked down inside of it, but it looks the exact same as every other Saturday she’s driven up her smooth driveway to pick up their daughter. She turns the music down. Something like fear starts to rattle quietly within her. She tries to ignore it. The sun smiles down at her through the windshield of her Tesla. She’s not smiling back.
She’s worried. Really and truly worried about seeing Paige again. She doesn’t know what all Paige remembers. She doesn’t know what she herself remembers. She could have said or done something that would have completely revealed the depths of her feelings to Paige that she had forgotten about. To be fair, she was barely tipsy by the time Paige arrived, and she remembers every second of the night, but what if there was a lapse? A gap her mind filled in but Paige’s didn’t have to?
Azzi rolls to a stop in front of the porch. The front door does not open. It’s a little out of the ordinary for Kitty to not be bounding out of the house to meet her, but she’s not really surprised. She pulls her phone out of the cupholder. She doesn’t have a vape to hit to calm her nerves anymore, so she just rides the anxiety out. Turns the music down a little more, leaves the windows open.
The sound of the front door clicking open, paired with a little grunt that unmistakably comes from her daughter, makes Azzi look up after a few moments. There’s a crack in the door and she can see the pattern of her Vera Bradley duffel and a few of her messy curls in what little sight she’s allowed. Azzi immediately sets her phone back down and opens the door to slip out of her car.
What Azzi is expecting is to walk up to the porch and watch her daughter shut the door behind herself and then hug her, all soft hair and big eyes and a smile with little teeth. What she’s not expecting is to start walking there and see Paige stepping out with her, carrying her suitcase. Kitty holds her duffel. Her nose is a little scrunched.
Azzi’s stomach drops a little. A smile pulls across her face and wavers. She immediately becomes even more nervous. Paige, all six feet of her, hair shining in the sun and skin pale under her t-shirt and shorts. Her lashes are bare and her eyes are still stunning as she bends down a little to mess with Kitty’s suitcase. Azzi feels herself flush a little. It feels so juvenile, to step out onto her ex-wife’s driveway to pick up their child and to be blushing over the sight of her, but Azzi’s never really been the most mature, unfortunately.
Paige looks up at her. She squints a little through the sun that splashes down onto them. Azzi rounds the front of her car, walking towards both her and Kitty. “Sorry, she was having a hard time with her bags,” Paige says. It’s almost sheepish. Azzi shrugs a little at her because she doesn’t know what else to do.
Her ribcage feels like it’s bursting. Something within her chest is swelling and cracking the bones on its way out. Kitty, from next to Paige, grumbles wordlessly. She pouts and draws her brows together as she walks towards Azzi. “I was not! Mama, I know how to hold a suitcase,” she argues, little arms wrapped around her duffel.
Azzi looks down at her. “I’m sure you do, honey,” she coos. Kitty drops her duffle by Azzi’s feet and steps up to hug her leg, gripping her thigh and resting her head against the bone of Azzi’s hip. Something within her, the animal and maternal part of her brain, automatically softens herself as she watches Kitty do this. She raises a hand and starts gently petting her curls. “She’s- Like, she’s good, right? Packed even if she can’t hold all her stuff?”
She only looks up at Paige when the words have already been spoken, and she’s glad she had done that, because a lump tries to form itself in her throat when she notices Paige is already watching her. Not Kitty. Her. “Mama!” Kitty protests, but it falls on deaf ears. Pink ears, too, because Azzi can feel that she’s flushed and Paige’s skin looks a little warm under the sun.
Paige smiles softly at Azzi. Her eyes are still a little squinted. Kitty detaches herself from Azzi and picks her duffel back up, wandering towards the car behind Azzi. Azzi doesn’t move. “Yeah, she’s good.” Paige steps towards her with Kitty’s suitcase. Azzi moves to start meeting her, hand out, heart pattering a little in her chest. “Also- Sorry, just wanted to bring up, like, all the dance stuff? She seems like she really wants to keep doing it.”
Azzi nods. The way Paige is initiating a conversation between them is feeding into the part of Azzi that desperately wants a connection with the other woman again and she’s starting to get scared that her hope is growing too quickly to get weeded out. “Oh, yeah, I was looking at that. The studio she did ballet camp at has a ballet company for younger girls. I don’t remember when auditions are, but I totally think it’d be worth it to look into it.”
Paige nods. She squints a little harder against the sun, nose scrunching a little. It’s endearingly and achingly similar to Kitty’s expression. Azzi grabs the suitcase from Paige. “Okay, yeah, I was looking at that, too. I just wanted to run that by you before. I also don’t remember any of the dates or anything, but I remember seeing that there are, like, required camps? So it might be…a process. To get her signed up for company auditions and the camps and classes ‘n stuff.”
Azzi’s brows furrow a little. She hears the car door shut behind her, a clear sign that Kitty has just let herself into the car and is waiting for Azzi to get inside and drive away. “Oh, shoot, where did you see that? I only saw the audition and class stuff.” Azzi, while looking at the website, didn’t really look that hard for anything. But she doesn’t want this conversation to end because it’s one of the only civil ones they’ve had in months.
It feels normal. It feels normal, and that’s what makes Azzi feel like she’s gorging herself on hope. They haven’t been normal in a year. They had found their own, twisted definition of the word, but this feels like something that is simply and truly normal. “It was, like, deep in the website. I can send you the link and we can look over it together.” Paige pats her back pocket a little as if to mime pulling out her phone.
Azzi smiles at her a little bit. And Paige mirrors it back to her, lips lifting, the bottoms of her gums just barely peeking out from underneath them. Azzi misses the gummy wideness of her genuine smile. “I’ll look online and text you about what I find and we can…go from there.” She nods once at her.
Paige’s smile grows just a little bit. Her eyes catch the sun and they shine bright at Azzi, a sweet blue that matches the bright sky that hangs behind her head. “Alright, sounds good.” Azzi offers one last smile and then turns around, dragging Kitty’s suitcase with her. She’s just turned around when she hears it: “Have a good rest of your day, Az.” It’s soft. It makes Azzi soften with it, butter held to the mercy of a warm knife.
She looks over her shoulder. Paige is still standing there on the porch, the shape of the woman Azzi has loved for so much of her life, the shape of the woman she knows she still does love. She smiles at her and it feels more tender than any of the ones they’ve traded in a very long time. “You too, Paige,” she says, cheeks a little warm, and Paige just grins at her and then turns to step into her house. Azzi turns to set Kitty’s suitcase in her car.
Azzi has to be stupid. There has to be something wrong with her, something so deeply twisted within her for her to live through that interaction and feel herself start to swell with the same stupidly light hope she had felt just the previous day in that cafe with Caroline. Kitty makes a wordless cooing noise as Azzi shuts her door. Azzi feels like her skin is going to burn and flake off with how warm she is, a sunburn inflicted from the inside.
The drive back is calm, and then she’s home with her daughter again and life has been breathed into the house again. Kitty immediately insists on playing with her Calico Critters with Azzi, who happily obliges. The rest of her morning is soft with the presence of Kitty. They leave the playroom around noon to make lunch.
Azzi is standing over a pot of boiling water, stirring the macaroni noodles so they don’t clump together as they soften. Kitty is humming to herself at the kitchen island behind the stove. The occasional click of a plastic animal tapping against the marble joins the sound of her little voice and the bubbling water. “Did you and Mommy talk about me dancing?”
Azzi looks over her shoulder at Kitty behind her. The girl is looking up at her, Calico Critters paused on the counter top, big eyes looking at her blankly. “Yeah. Just about what we already talked about, about how they have a lot of classes and sometimes even competitions. We’re gonna look into signing you up for them.” She turns around to continue stirring.
Kitty hiccups once. Azzi furrows her brows a little and fights the urge to laugh at the sound. “Okay, good. ‘Cause you guys talked when you picked me up. So…And you usually don’t.” The click of the critters against the counter again. Azzi’s brows furrow.
She looks over her shoulder again. Her arm stirs the pot lazily. Kitty isn’t looking at her anymore, already engrossed in her toys again. “Yeah, we did. Do I have your permission to talk to your mother?” It’s a little teasing, but it’s a little not. Even Kitty had noticed the shift. That has to mean something, right?
Kitty looks up. “What?” Her nose scrunches a little. Her lips pull into a smile, little teeth shining at Azzi in the kitchen light. Azzi mimics the expression back and draws a giggle out of her daughter, who looks back down at her toys again. “You’re weird, Mama,” she says, still laughing a little to herself.
Azzi smiles and turns around. “You’re weirder,” she says. Kitty giggles again. They lapse back into comfortable silence, Kitty mumbling and humming and occasionally hiccuping, Azzi stirring the pasta around in the hot water as she waits for their meal to cook. Their afternoon is lazy.
Caroline wants to go clubbing tonight. Everyone does, but it’s Caroline to individually text her a few hours into the afternoon when she still hasn’t acknowledged any plans being made in any of their group chats. And it’s harder to say no to Caroline than it is to just continue ignoring the group chats, so she eventually does have to give in.
Azzi doesn’t really want to go out. If she’s being honest, she’d rather spend time with her daughter. But Caroline wants to see her and it’s easier to drown out her feelings when she’s drunk, so she’s once again left Kitty in the care of Stella and showed up to hang out with her friends. She’s in little shorts and a little top. Emi compliments her and mimes groping her when she walks in. Azzi laughs.
She’s a little late to the pregame. It’s at Violet’s again, and it’s the same group of girls who she knows and then additional people she recognizes and remembers speaking to while drunk. She gets tipsy. She talks to her friends. It feels like going through the motions of something, of doing what she knows she should because it’s what will help her.
They share two Ubers to the club. It’s dark out when they arrive. Azzi slips out, Caroline clutching her forearm, everyone talking and giggling around them. All Azzi can muster up is a stupid grin, slackened a little by the grip alcohol has on her. She knows she’ll have fun. She knows she’ll go in there and get drunk and maybe see Paige and maybe they can leave together and fuck.
She thinks that might be the reason she doesn’t want to go out. Seeing Paige. Which sounds counterproductive, because all she wants is Paige. But she doesn’t want to see her and get wrapped up in another half-assed argument and then go home to fuck and then have one of them leave right after they’ve come down from their highs. Not that the arguing has really been happening recently, but that’s not what matters.
Azzi doesn’t want to confirm to herself that it’s just sex. She doesn’t want Paige’s actions to confirm to her that it’s just sex. And so maybe it’s a little juvenile, but she’s so scared of it being confirmed to her if they see each other tonight that she’d rather just not go out. She’d rather just see Paige in the day, when alcohol and poor lighting don’t carve her into something Azzi has tried to train herself to hate and instead allow her to just be the woman Azzi grew up loving.
It’s a different club than the one they’ve been to the last few times, but it’s nice all the same. They get drinks and Halle tries to offer her vape to Azzi again, who refuses. Their little group is constantly changing as some people get wrapped up in outside conversations and others Azzi doesn’t really know get wrapped up in their conversations. Her stomach hurts a little bit with something like dread. She ignores it in favor of talking to the people around her.
Azzi tries to have a fun night. She really does. She gets drunk and hovers by Caroline and sits calmly at the edge of conversations, feeling the way her mind and body go fuzzy with inebriation as she sips on her seltzer and laughs when she knows she should. This is good for her. Getting out here and making friends is good for her. Emi had brought up a little bit ago putting in a good word for her to a casting director she’s friends with. Being here is good.
The alcohol loosens everyone up and she tries to keep drinking so the odd feeling in her stomach gets soggy and weighed down so she can forget about it. She gets wrapped up listening to an argument full of laughter between Emi and some other girl Azzi doesn’t know for a while. She smiles as they speak. She’s not listening to a single word they say, but pretending to gives her an excuse of something to do, and so she takes it.
It’s when she leaves after barely an hour of standing around to go to the bathroom when she feels it. This deep, twisting feeling in her gut, the rolling of a wave over the shore. Her brows furrow through the dim lighting. She wanders around to find a bathroom and notices a few single stall ones tucked into a corner of the room. There are a few people standing around and giggling by it. She pushes past them into an open one.
The light is on. It’s a dim one, hung just over the mirror by the sink. She can see her reflection. She doesn’t look great. Her makeup is on and her hair is in sleek ringlets and her outfit hugs her nicely, but she can see the underlying current of fatigue and dread that runs through her body. She tucks her hair behind the shells of her ears and closes the door behind her. Music and laughter try to crawl underneath it.
There’s a vape on the counter. A brand Azzi doesn’t recognize. It’s sleek and dark and shines at her in the bathroom light. Azzi doesn’t even want it. She squints at it. About a year ago, had she seen a random vape in a club while she didn’t have one on her, she would have hit it without a second thought. But she’s not an addict anymore. She hasn’t regularly vaped in probably months, stopped vaping just when she was the most anxious when Paige had taken it from her. It’s gross. She doesn’t want it.
Her chest still hurts with anxiety anyway. Nicotine has always found a way to bury itself deep into her and she can feel it trying to reach out to her. She furrows her brows. And very suddenly, Azzi wants to go home again. Very suddenly, Azzi misses Kitty and misses her bed and misses being able to crawl home to her wife and daughter when she wanted to leave somewhere. She doesn’t get that privilege anymore. She still wants to crawl home, though. And so she does.
She leaves the bathroom. She didn’t actually need to use it, anyway. She doesn’t say anything to Caroline. She thinks she probably should, but it’s early enough in the night anyway that she probably will be conscious enough to try to text Azzi if she notices that she’s missing. The club is crowded around her. Azzi reaches into her back pocket to find her phone to order an Uber. She feels pressed in on. She doesn’t like it.
Azzi steps out into the street. She orders an Uber, pretends to not notice the two people sitting on the edge of the porch and giggling drunkenly to each other. The music thumps in the walls behind her. She steps out farther onto the sidewalk, walking along the street, passing the lines of cars parked along it. The night shines down on her skin. She feels clammy. She feels sick. It’s that fever, the fever of loving Paige. She’ll leave without seeing her. She’s probably here, and if not, she’s probably out at another club or a party. Azzi tries to convince herself she doesn’t care.
The Uber comes and she slips into it. The drive is silent. It smells like menthol inside and Azzi feels herself growing a little nauseous at the strength of the smell. There’s a little Jesus figure tucked on the dash next to the clock. His shiny varnish makes him wink at Azzi when the streetlights catch him. Azzi looks away. It’s a Saturday. Tomorrow is the Lord’s day. Tomorrow is the day Paige fought her over. Today is the Sabbath. The Uber drops her off in front of her house. Azzi wears its scent of menthol like a fur coat.
Azzi steps in through the front door. The foyer is dark. There’s gentle light spilling in from the kitchen that she can see. She walks farther into the house, trying to keep her steps quiet, peeking around to look into her kitchen. She sees Stella sitting at the island with her laptop open and a few pieces of paper next to her on the counter. She looks up when Azzi steps in. “Oh, hi, Azzi. You’re home earlier than you said you’d be,” she says, and it’s not judgemental.
Azzi shrugs a little bit and sighs. Stella looks at her calmly and shuts her laptop. The warm light of the overhead chandeliers fight to keep back the darkness of the night. “I know, I just…I had to come home. I dunno. Kitty’s asleep, right?”
Stella nods. “Yeah, she got put to bed over an hour ago. D’you want me to go?” She says it as she’s collecting the papers along the countertop and moving to slip out of the chair she’s sitting in, already moving without waiting for Azzi’s response. She knows what the younger woman will say. Azzi appreciates it, if she’s being honest.
She twists her lips to somewhat resemble sorriness. Stella continues packing up. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll pay you whatever I owe you in the morning. And, like, honestly, if you need the money for the hours I said I’d be gone that I wasn’t, I can just pay you that, too,” she offers. She sighs a little through her words.
Stella waves her off, shaking her head. She slings her bag over her shoulder and starts walking towards the door. Azzi follows her to walk her out. “No, you’re totally fine. Just pay me for the four or so hours. Have a nice night,” she says into the foyer as she steps closer to the front door. Azzi stops a few yards back from it.
She smiles a little at the back of the woman leaving her house. “Thank you, you, too,” she says, watching as she opens the door and then slips out into the darkness. The door clicks shut softly behind her. And then Azzi is standing alone in her dim foyer, body wrapped in her tight going out clothes, house quiet around her. Something within her still aches and burns.
“Mama?” Azzi nearly jumps at the sound of the voice. It’s slightly scratchy with lingering sleep Azzi can pick up on. She turns to look at the staircase and finds Kitty standing at the bottom of them, nightgown a little rucked up around one of her legs. She squints at Azzi through the dark. Azzi softens.
“Oh, hi, baby,” she says quietly. Kitty immediately starts walking towards her, little feet bare on the tile, her hands reaching up to rub sleep from her eyes. Azzi watches her move. She looks like a little shadow through the dim air of the foyer. She holds her hands outstretched in front of her face like she’s reaching for something. Reaching for Azzi. “I didn’t hear you coming down the stairs. Are you okay?”
Her hands grab at the hem of Azzi’s shorts. Little fingers scrape lightly against her skin, little eyes hooded with sleep looking up into her own. Azzi automatically bends down to pick her up. “Yeah. I heard you.” She immediately settles herself against Azzi, arms and legs wrapping around her, head settling on her shoulder. She sighs softly and her small breath ghosts along Azzi’s skin. Azzi squeezes her a little bit. Through the haze of the alcohol, her chest warms with something simpler. “Can you cuddle me?”
“Of course,” she murmurs. She slips her shoes off, careful to steady Kitty in her arms, and then pads into the sitting room. “On the comfy couch,” she says as she slowly settles herself down on her back, Kitty a dead weight against her through her movements. She just stays sleepily clinging to Azzi the entire time. Azzi likes it. She’s soft and small and warm and Azzi feels herself wanting to hold onto her forever to heal the ache running through her body.
“Yay,” she mumbles when they’ve settled. Azzi exhales a quiet laugh at this. Kitty nuzzles farther into her. Azzi blinks up at the dark ceiling, at the stripes of moonlight painted through the room from the windows. Her body feels fuzzy and not in an enjoyable way. Kitty sighs into her neck. Azzi starts gently rubbing her back, hand warm through her nightgown. Kitty’s breathing evens out immediately.
There’s a deep sadness that is running through Azzi right now that she doesn’t know how to cure. Maybe it’s something closer to dread, honestly. She’s dreading waking up from this and going about her life and trying to convince herself she’s not missing Paige every moment of it. And maybe Caroline is right, and maybe there is hope from them, but she finds it so hard to be hopeful when she’s spent almost a year like this, swallowing feelings and forcing hatred and pretending to like what has become of them.
She glances down at Kitty. As her eyes move, she notices that they’ve gone a little wet. Kitty is unmoving where she lays on top of Azzi. Her curls try to reach up at and tickle Azzi’s face. Azzi’s hand is still moving gently against her skin. “I love you,” Azzi mumbles into her hair. Her voice cracks a little. Kitty does not respond. Just continues breathing, chest expanding and contracting against Azzi’s own.
Azzi starts crying. She tries to keep it quiet, tries to not let her chest shake too hard. She doesn’t want Kitty waking up. Her Kitty, her Katie Cat, her beautiful little girl. The life she had chosen to raise with the love of her own. Her curls smell like the same shampoo they always do, because even after the divorce, she and Paige had shared similar minds for most things related to their daughter. It just makes her cry harder.
She hates that this is what her life has come to. That she doesn’t have Paige at all and only half has Kitty, that she’s supposed to hate Paige now and her body still warms when she has the older girl’s attention like she’s the sun and Azzi is a jungle plant cut off from her rays but still vying and competing for the heat of them. She needs her. And she doesn’t have her. Her chest shudders with her drunken sobs. Kitty is still against her.
Azzi doesn’t know how long she’s there for. She just lets herself cry. Kitty is warm along her front and Azzi tries her best to lean into the comfort of her daughter’s presence instead of sinking into the chill of knowing it will always be temporary. The moonlight streams in from the large windows in the sitting area. It’s shiny and cold where it hits her through the dark.
Her sobs sink to softer cries after a while. They don’t wrack her as hard anymore. Her eyes feel swollen and her head is starting to hurt. She’s so dehydrated. Her skin is tight where tears have turned to tracks of salt like wounds drawn into her cheeks. Her arms stay around Kitty the entire time. Her daughter’s breathing is even against her own.
She needs Paige. She’s still crying a little bit, nose running, mouth dry and eyes wet. She needs her. Stupidly, she starts fumbling to dig into her pocket around Kitty. Her fingers scramble against the front of her jean skirt and she’s grateful to realize after a few moments of blind searching that it’s fallen out onto the couch. Her nails scratch quietly against the cushions as she grabs it.
Her hands are shaking. She unlocks her phone. Squints a little through blurry vision to open her contacts, scrolls until she finds Paige. Their last conversation is still the one of Azzi nearly begging her to come over. They haven’t had time to talk about Kitty and her ballet company yet. She doesn’t know why, but it just makes her even sadder. She hits the call button before she has time to think.
It starts to ring. The tone is quiet. She still looks down cautiously at Kitty as it makes noise, freezing to see if her daughter will stir. She doesn’t. Her little body stays motionless against Azzi, breath whistling a little through her nose. Azzi holds the phone to her ear. She chews on the inside of her cheek. It continues to ring.
She waits until it rings out. Until she’s getting the generic voicemail and her eyes are watering again and the only reason she’s not chewing all of her nails off is because she wants to keep at least one arm around her daughter. Her phone tells her to speak after the tone. It beeps in her ear once. She chokes a little on an inhale. Paige did not pick up. She needs Paige, and Paige will not pick up.
“Paige,” she breathes into the receiver, and it physically hurts her to speak her name. She doesn’t know why she’s doing it, if she’s being honest. The voicemail will probably only haunt her. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t even know why ‘m calling, I just- Like, I’m sorry, I guess. Things have just gotten so…complicated. Between us. And I think I’m scared. And I miss you. Or- wait, I really should prolly not say that.” Her voice wobbles. She’s already on the verge of tears again.
Azzi looks down at the sleeping form of their daughter on top of her, of her wild curls and soft skin and little pajamas. Her vision blurs. “I’m gonna go to bed. I think I’m too drunk. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. And you didn’t even pick up, so I know you prolly have other things to be doing, so just…I dunno. I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m crying.” She sniffs a little and moves the hand holding the phone to her ear to wipe a little at her cheeks. “I’ll…see you when I see you. Bye. Kitty loves you.” And then she pulls the phone away and hangs up.
She’s an idiot for falling in love with her ex-wife again. She’s an idiot for thinking sex would be nothing more, because it would always be more with Paige. Paige is everything. Azzi drops her phone onto the couch cushions again. She’s crying, but this time there are no sobs. Just silent drops of salt and water as her chest caves in on itself, ribs shriveling.
Azzi doesn’t know when she falls asleep. She feels when she’s in it, though, and she’s grateful for it. Peace finds her in unconsciousness, in the slightly uncomfortable shape she’s in to fit on the couch, in the warm weight of Kitty on top of her. Her inebriation starts to ebb away from her. It makes sure to dig her deep into the claws of sleep before it does, though, and so she’s very asleep when she starts to feel the stirring of Kitty against her.
It’s not really a stirring, because a stirring would imply the beginning of liveliness, of unconsciousness slipping off naturally and the body warming again. It’s more of a moving and pulling, a collecting of limbs and lifting of the body. Kitty grunts a little close to Azzi’s face. Her eyes start to flutter open, face screwing up a little. Her body is stiff. Her head hurts. Azzi tries to force sleep away from herself as she begins to stir herself. Her daughter is being pulled off of her.
She furrows her brows and blinks rapidly, trying to force her vision to work better through the dark. There’s a figure standing in front of her. She’s tall and broad-shouldered and her hair shines heather gray in the moonlight that seeps into Azzi’s sitting room. Her heart clenches in her chest like her ribcage has snapped shut. She inhales quickly, trying to sit up as Paige peels Kitty’s sleeping body away from Azzi’s own. “It’s okay,” she breathes. Azzi blinks more.
Paige is rearranging Kitty to hold her. She straightens up in front of Azzi, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and very much not looking like she had been out. Kitty starts to shift in her arms, inhaling, sleep trying to shake itself off of her. Azzi just watches through the dark. She’s so confused. Paige is in her house and carrying their daughter and Azzi is nearly sober laying on the couch with a pounding headache.
Her eyes are a soft blue through the dark. She looks so kind where she stands, so much the shape of the woman Azzi loved for so long and still loves. Kitty tucks her face into her neck and sighs a little. Her body stills again. She’s comfortable and soft against Paige and all Azzi can do is start to prop herself up on the couch, staring up at the two of them. “There’s water and Advil on the table behind you,” Paige says softly.
Azzi turns to look behind herself. Sure enough, there on the end table sits a glass of water and two pills. The moonlight shines and bends through the water, streaks of pearl light softening in the liquid. Azzi’s chest aches a little in the way she knows the two shining tablets won’t cure. She turns her head again and sees that Paige is already turning away, Kitty slumped in her arms, walking out of the sitting room and towards the staircase.
Azzi does nothing to stop her. She just slumps into the couch again, eyes heavy, mouth dry. It’s so dark in her house. She wants to sink into it and let it swallow her. She can feel that she’s not drunk anymore, leaving her with a slight hangover made worse by the tears that had rocked her to sleep. She squints up at her ceiling. The stairs start quietly shifting in the distance, the clear sign that weight is being pressed against them. Her stomach and head hurt.
Paige is in her house. Paige had gone to her house and poured her a glass of water and set down two painkillers and then taken their daughter upstairs, presumably to her bedroom. Presumably to put her to bed after Azzi was too broken to do anything other than cuddle her in the sitting room until they were both dead asleep. Azzi sits up again and reaches out to grab the water and the pills.
Part of her softens at this. Part of her is so grateful for her presence, however unannounced and horribly inconsistent with whatever their relationship is supposed to be. But part of her just aches more. Azzi takes the pills and then continues drinking the water until she can’t. She doesn’t know what Paige is even really doing here.
The voicemail. Azzi feels something cold run down her spine. She had called Paige and Paige hadn’t picked up, which is why she’s assuming Paige is here. But she had left a voicemail. And she knows she was crying, knows she was holding Kitty and shuddering, but has no real recollection of what she had said in it.
This gets her to finally stand up. This gets Azzi, with a body that barely feels like it’s connected to her anymore and a deep ache running within her like something has cracked her open, to get up off of the couch and set her nearly empty glass down and start to follow Paige upstairs. Her feet are quiet on the tile.
There isn’t a concrete plan settling itself into her. Azzi doesn’t know what she’s looking to do once she gets up those stairs. She knows she’s looking for Paige, though, and she lets that be enough to start to guide her up them. Her legs ache the same as her head as she steps. She can start to make out the landing, the doors that open away from the open space there, the dim shapes of light fixtures and door frames and decor up on the walls.
She makes it up the stairs in time to watch as Paige steps out of Kitty’s room. Her figure is just as dim as it had been downstairs, moonlight tracing her shape and dulling her colors as her back faces Azzi and she slowly shuts the door. She’s being careful to not make noise. Azzi just watches her do it. Her mouth feels dry again despite the water she had just downed.
Paige turns around. She finds Azzi standing at the top of the stairs and pauses. Her eyes go a little wide like she’s guilty of something. Azzi blinks at her. Her stomach twists a little. “Sorry for…letting myself in. I was on set when you called, and then I listened to your voicemail, and I tried calling you back, but you wouldn’t pick up. And I just…I dunno. I got a little worried, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She looks away as she speaks. So she wasn’t out clubbing or at a party.
The mention of the voicemail does nothing to soothe Azzi. She just looks at Paige and her downturned eyes and the lengthy figure of her body and how she feels both so achingly familiar and so achingly foreign at the same time in Azzi’s house. “No, yeah, thank you,” she says, exhaling. It’s shaky. They stand there in silence for a few moments. Her eyes start stinging the same way they had before she had fallen asleep. “I’m sorry,” she breathes.
Paige’s face crumples a little with a frown, brows furrowing, the line of her lips downturning. Her eyes still shine out through the thinning her eyelids and undereyes put them through. “Why are you sorry?” The question comes out so quiet and so sincere that Azzi can’t help but go a little soft at it, and then feel her entire body furl in on itself with the ache of knowing she’s gone soft for Paige. She says nothing. A few moments pass. “Azzi, are you okay? Why are you sorry?”
Her eyes are glassed over. She thinks Paige can probably tell in the moonlight. She wraps her arms around her midsection. “‘Cause I called you. I’m- Like, we’re just not supposed to do that, but I called you and I’m literally just being the worst, and I don’t remember what all I said, but I’m pretty sure I said things I wasn’t supposed to say.”
And Paige just looks at her. Her brows are still pulled down with something almost like concern. She takes a step closer to Azzi and the brunette feels like she’s drowning, like everything she’s wanted for all her life is trying to give itself back to her but she knows it’s not real. “What does that mean?” Her voice is gentle. Azzi inhales and her chest shudders as she tries to fight back tears.
Paige watches her for a response. Azzi doesn’t really have one that won’t completely give herself away. Her palms feel clammy against her own skin. “Like…I dunno. We just haven’t really been talking a lot since the divorce, and so I know I was, like, crossing boundaries, and I just…I shouldn’t’ve called. I’m sorry.”
Paige blinks at her. Her brows soften a little. The concern gives way to something a little more tender, something Azzi can’t handle being directed at her. Her eyes continue to water. Paige takes another step towards her, the dim distance between them only shortening. “Are you drunk?”
“I was,” Azzi whispers. Paige’s lips twist a little. The space between them is so quiet. Azzi bites the inside of her cheek a little bit, trying to force the sharp pain to ground her a little more. “I think it’s all gone.”
Paige nods once. Azzi watches her through the dark, the night making it all that much more intimate. They stand in the house that was once theirs and Azzi feels alcohol and complication swirling in her gut and Paige stands in front of her like a sculpture she’ll never be allowed to touch the way she really wants. “Okay. Let’s…talk. I think we should.”
Azzi’s stomach hurts. She blinks rapidly and a single tear rolls down her face, the track of it parallel to the ones already lining and tightening her skin. “I didn’t want to mess things up, I’m sorry,” she whispers. It hurts a little to get out. Her chest feels tight.
Paige frowns a little at her. “Azzi, you’re not messing things up. I want to talk to you. And it’s not- You’re not, like, in trouble or anything. You’re just right. We haven’t been talking a lot. And we should.” Azzi shudders a little. It’s not even cold. Paige takes another step towards her. Azzi’s feet stay frozen. The walk down the aisle, the passing off of the bride to the other. The flipped roles. The divorce that was supposed to stop her from thinking things like this. “Are you okay?”
Azzi nods. Her arms tighten a little where they’re wrapped around her stomach. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, voice quiet and a little wobbly. Paige doesn’t press. They just stand there for a few more moments, silent, the house hollow around them.
Paige’s eyes are so beautiful. Azzi hates herself a little for thinking it. All of her is beautiful, but her eyes have always been something that she’s loved. She can see through the dark that her lashes are smudged with mascara, darkened and lengthened and defined so the blue of her irises shines. They’re dimmed without anything but the moonlight to hit them. They make Azzi feel warm anyway.
They walk in silence to Azzi’s room. It’s a wordless agreement, a plan they execute in tandem. The door creaks a little when Paige swings it open. Azzi steps inside. The last time they had been in here together was just a few days earlier and it doesn’t look any different. The bed is still unmade and the moon still spills in through the windows and the balcony still is cold and dark outside. Paige shuts the door.
They stand there for a moment in the middle of the room. Like strangers. Like lovers. Azzi’s chest feels tight. Her feet are bare and the smooth wood of the floor seeps into her skin, finds ways to make her feel cold even as the attention of the sun is still lingering throughout the house.
It’s Paige to break the silence first. Her words are quiet and almost cautious. Azzi hangs onto them like her voice is a cure to the ache in her chest, honey slipping down a sore throat. “You’re done vaping? Like, quitting?” She looks at Azzi as she says it. Her expression is even.
Azzi exhales and it shudders a little on its way out. “Yeah. You took my last one and I haven’t bought a new one. I’m not gonna. ‘m done with nic.” And it’s the truth. It feels good to say it out loud, however weak it sounds as it leaves her tired body.
She thinks she hears Paige hum a little. Her expression doesn’t change, the same blue eyes and sharp features looking at her as they stand there. “Can I ask why? Like, why you…started again?” Azzi feels something in her chest twist. It’s ugly. She thinks some of it might show on her face, because Paige immediately opens her mouth again. “I know we’ve had this fight before. I don’t wanna fight anymore, Azzi. Just…the truth. I won’t argue with you or anything. I just actually wanna know why.”
Azzi goes quiet for a few moments. “It was too hard not to,” she eventually says, voice barely above a whisper. “I was just…You got a bunch of really good jobs back to back to back, and I wasn’t doing that well. And I was getting stressed, but you always talked about all of your work and how hard it was on you, and I felt like an idiot for being upset about the opposite. So I didn’t say anything. I just started vaping. I think I told you this during the divorce.”
Paige nods a little and looks down. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I remember.” Her voice is soft, understanding, a line of something a little resigned underneath it. Like it was the answer she was expecting. The one Azzi had yelled at her during the fights, the one Azzi had told her lawyers when they went to court for custody. “I’m sorry,” she adds quietly. It’s genuine.
Something lurches a little in Azzi’s stomach. The need to spill everything. The need to look Paige in the eye and cough up the last little bit of truth. “There…It was more than that, too.” Paige looks up again. Azzi inhales. It shakes. She looks through the moonlight at Paige’s eyes of shining sea glass and forces herself to speak. “I, um…I just started…missing my mom.”
Paige’s face crumples. “Oh, Azzi,” she breathes, and it makes it that much harder for Azzi to get anything else out. Her vision blurs with tears. She looks down at her feet, the way her skin stands out lighter than the dark wash of the wooden flooring. She can feel Paige still looking at her.
She inhales. And then it all comes out, a tidal wave spewing. Her voice is quiet and it shakes a little, but her words are quick to come out all the same. “It was just hard. To be raising a kid without my own mom. And I just kept…spiralling, y’know? Like, it felt like all the grief had just come back. ‘Cause we had Kaitlin, and I will never regret giving her that name, but it was so hard to hear her called Katie and know the woman she was named after was dead.
“It just got hard to be a mom after a while. On top of all the career stuff that was stressing me out. And I just missed my mom so much, ‘cause I wanted her help ‘cause we were so young to be mothers, and…she was just gone. Y’know? And I didn’t tell you anything ‘cause you were just also stressed. I just felt really alone. And nicotine helped when she died, so I just…started again.” She’s nearly whispering as she finishes.
“Azzi,” Paige says. The sound of her name gets Azzi to look up a little. Her gaze flickers up to Paige, takes in the way she looks almost defeated standing in front of her. Her eyes are glassy enough to blur her features, but her shape is still so obviously Paige in a way Azzi recognizes after years of loving. “I’m so sorry.”
Azzi sighs. It’s tight in her throat, a little wet. She can see Paige take a step towards her. The gap starts to close again. Azzi raises a hand to wipe at the skin under her eyes. “It’s fine, I didn’t even tell you this,” she mumbles, trying to even her breathing even as she can sense Paige cracking a little in front of her. Paige just walks closer.
They’re strangers. They’re lovers. They’re Paige and Azzi, standing in what was their bedroom deep into the night, and Paige is stepping towards her with her arms opening a little off of her sides as Azzi wipes at her tears. “You should’ve. Oh my God, Azzi, you should’ve. I’m so sorry.” And then Azzi is wrapped in Paige’s arms, a quiet sob ripping itself from her chest at the impact.
Paige is warm against her. Their chests come flush, Azzi’s head immediately finding Paige’s shoulder and settling there as tears start to fall from her eyes. Paige’s arms are firm where they wrap around her back. It feels like she’s scared of letting go. And Azzi doesn’t want her to let go, so she tries to hold her breath to make her crying quieter, wraps her arms around Paige’s neck so their parting will have to be on shared terms. “You should’ve even had to say anything. I should’ve noticed something was up.”
Azzi shakes her head a little. “That isn’t your responsibility, you were so fucking busy,” she breathes, voice wet. She wishes she didn’t find the comfort in Paige’s embrace that she did, because if not, it would be so much easier to pull away and dust herself off and know she would be able to move on from this in the morning. But she can’t. She knows she won’t find a way over it.
“You were my wife, Azzi. Of course it was my responsibility.” Paige’s voice is a little raw where it is by her ear. Azzi squeezes her eyes shut. Wetness drips from them and lines her skin. She feels like something is trying to claw itself out of her, an evil trying to expel itself. One of her hands fists the fabric of her t-shirt to hold Paige tighter. “I got so wrapped up in working. I thought I was helping our family. I shouldn’t’ve drowned you out like that. Why did you never say anything? I would’ve helped you, you know that.”
Her eyes open and she can barely see out of them. Her makeup is wet on her face and her vision is horrible through it and through the dim lighting of her bedroom. “‘Cause I knew you were working hard. I didn’t want to…add another thing.”
Paige goes quiet for a moment. “And then I just…divorced you.” She says it quietly, almost like she doesn’t believe it.
Azzi laughs a little. It’s wet and bitter, though not really directed at Paige. “What were you supposed to do? Stay married to me?”
“Yes,” Paige immediately answers, and Azzi feels her body weaken at the easy way she had said that. Paige’s grip on her only tightens. Azzi lets herself be pressed farther into her. “I was supposed to help you, Azzi, and I was being so selfish and didn’t think about why you’d be so addicted. I was just mad that you were. I was just mad that you were so, like, dependent on it,” she says, her voice almost a rasp.
Azzi shakes her head again. Her face drags itself against Paige’s shoulder. Her eyes hurt. “It was an impossible situation. Neither of us did the right thing.” She feels Paige shaking her head back. Azzi sniffs a little. Her hand stays tightly gripping the fabric of her shirt. “I could’ve said something. And all those times we fought, I was fighting back. It wasn’t just something you did.”
Paige exhales against her. It shakes a little the same way Azzi’s does. She’s on the verge of tears. Azzi can feel it in the ache of her own ribs. “We fought so much,” Paige whispers. Her voice is light and curls off of her lips like smoke Azzi inhales back. Her chest shudders.
“I know,” she breathes. Paige just shakes her head again. Azzi squeezes her eyes shut. Her face screws up a little. There’s real and raw hurt dripping itself throughout her entire body like she’s been stabbed with an IV of it and can’t undo the taping. “I know, I know,” she repeats. Her voice is still quiet. There are still tears dripping down her face and onto the fabric of Paige’s shirt.
“I regret divorcing you,” Paige says very suddenly. She pulls her head away from Azzi’s shoulder to look at her. Azzi feels something within her crack open, heat oozing from it and stickying her and making it hard to breathe. She pulls back to look at Paige. Her eyes are wide, the blue of them swallowing Azzi even dimmed in the night. A lump raises in Azzi’s throat. They look at each other with wet eyes.
“I’m sorry if I’m saying this and you’ve moved on, but I regret divorcing you, and I regret fighting with you all the time, and I regret just fucking you and hoping something physical would make me be okay with losing you forever. Because I still love you so much and I am so, so sorry that I did that.” Paige’s voice shakes a little. It doesn’t matter, though, because it’s the only thing Azzi thinks she’s ever wanted to hear in her life. Paige still loves her.
“Paige,” she chokes out, another sob ripping from her chest. She surges forward again to press them as close to each other as they can get. Her hands fist at her shirt again. She’s crying, eyes swollen, skin tight, body jittering as she tries to get close enough to Paige to force them into becoming one being. She wants to crawl into her skin. Her knees buckle a little, weight tipping onto Paige.
She feels Paige start to stumble backwards a little. One of her hands reaches out and catches on Azzi’s dresser, and then they’re sliding down it, both of their legs weak as they cry and hold each other. Azzi scrambles to get even closer to Paige as the woman slides her back down the dresser. Paige’s legs open a little to let Azzi settle between them. Azzi grips the front of her shirt. Her head tucks itself into the crook of Paige’s neck. Paige holds her tightly, head bowed a little and jaw pressing against Azzi’s face.
They cry. It’s nearly silent. Azzi still shakes in Paige’s arms. It’s a release she’s been craving for weeks now. Her room is dark around them. The moonlight licks over them and softens them from statues to a breathing work of art, hiccuping and wet and falling apart into one another. Azzi can’t speak for a while. She’d like to tell Paige she still loves her. She just hopes the other woman can tell by her reaction to the words that she does.
Azzi loses track of time. She loses track of herself. They sit against her dresser for a long time. Azzi just lets herself stay slumped against Paige until she’s cried for so long that her eyes are too puffy to see out of and her face feels raw. She stays gripping the front of Paige’s shirt the entire time. It’s wet with her own tears. The top of her head is damp with Paige’s where they can roll off of her jaw.
Crying slips into silence. Azzi’s eyes stay shut. She stays cuddled up into Paige on the hard ground. It’s not at all comfortable, but she’s with Paige, and so she doesn’t care. Paige’s breathing evens out a little bit against her. Their faces dry. Azzi wants sleep so badly she almost aches with it. “It’s probably time to get ready for bed,” Paige eventually mumbles. Her voice is a little rasping.
Azzi sighs against her. Her forehead is pressed against Paige’s neck, head turned to the side. She draws her legs up a little where they lay on the wooden floor. “I don’t wanna get up.” The words of protest are mumbled. She’s almost surprised she has a voice to speak them.
Paige hums a little bit. “But you’re gonna be mad at yourself in the morning if you sleep in your makeup. You hate doing that. And you hate sleeping without brushing your teeth.” The hand wrapped around Azzi’s back and sitting against her bicep starts gently rubbing up and down her skin in soothing motions that do nothing to encourage her to get up.
Her eyes stay closed. “No, I don’t care, you just always say that ‘cause you hate sleeping without brushing your teeth,” she says. A quiet, wet laugh trails after the words.
Paige makes a similar sound. “I know,” she murmurs, and Azzi just goes quiet again, leaning into the comfort of being held by the woman. Her body wants to lull her to sleep. She’s not particularly feeling like fighting back. Paige keeps smoothing her palm over the skin of Azzi’s arm. “At least put real pajamas on. And get in bed.”
She sighs again at the break in their silence. Tries to blink her eyes open, gives up when she feels that her top lashes have been glued to her bottom ones by her tears. “And you’ll come, too? You’re gonna stay, right?” Her voice is a little hoarse. She knows the question is a little pathetic. She asks anyway.
“Yeah,” Paige says softly. Azzi hums and promptly continues to refuse to get off of the floor. Paige humors her for a little longer. Azzi can feel the night creeping all over them, chill trying to trace its way up her spine and make her lids even heavier than they already are. “Will you get up if I take off your makeup and put on your pajamas?”
Azzi makes a quiet groaning noise. Her face screws up a little. “I don’t wanna be useless,” she mumbles.
“You’re not useless. You’re tired and you just cried a lot. It’s been a rough night.” Paige’s voice is soft and soothing in her ear. She’s kind to her, kinder than Azzi thinks she deserves after all they’ve done to each other, and it’s almost bittersweet. Paige sighs quietly. Azzi makes a similar noise. “It’s been a rough year.” Her eyes sting a little at this sentence, spoken quietly.
Azzi pulls away to look up at her. Paige immediately meets her eye, face soft and a little sunken with fatigue through the dark. “I promise I’m better. I’m not doing nic anymore and I don’t usually get like this when I drink.” Her voice cracks a little as she says it.
Paige’s brows knit slightly. She looks almost concerned, but Azzi knows her better than to think she’s pitying Azzi right now. “I know. I’m not gonna hold this against you or anything, Az,” she says quietly. Her arms are still around Azzi and the younger girl can feel her start to pull on her a little, a wordless request for her to come back and settle into Paige again.
Azzi fights it. Her body stiffens just a little, eyes glassing over more. Her jaw shakes a little when she parts her mouth to speak, lip quivering pathetically. It feels like there’s something physically in her throat she needs to cough up if she wants to breathe again. “Also, like…I love you, too, if you couldn’t tell,” she forces out. It’s barely above a whisper. She blinks rapidly to try to clear the tears that have just found her eyes.
Paige frowns just a little. “Don’t cry again,” she murmurs, pulling at Azzi again, and Azzi gives in this time. She leans back into her chest and sets her head against the crook of her neck and presses her weight and warmth into Paige like they’ll become one body if she melts into her far enough. Paige sighs softly against the top of her head. Azzi’s lids feel heavy.
They stay like that for a few more minutes before wordless agreement breaks over them again, before Azzi’s pulling away just enough to get up on her feet and Paige is removing an arm from around her to grab at the dresser and pull herself up. Azzi feels a little dizzy when she stands. Her bedroom is dark around her. She uses the moonlight to start walking to her bathroom, squinting a little. She can feel Paige right behind her.
They don’t turn on any lights. Azzi’s glad for it. Her head is already pulsing a little with a headache from all of her crying and the alcohol that has already dripped itself out of her system. She can see the shapes of them in the mirror, of Paige yawning a little in clothes that drape off of her and Azzi with fatigue caked onto her skin where her little outfit can’t cover her.
She stands in front of the sink. Paige steps to stand with her. Azzi looks at them both for a moment, gaze hovering over Paige’s eyes turned gray in the dark and her own turned black, and then turns to dig into a drawer for something to wash her face with.
She doesn’t know how, but somewhere between wetting the soft towel with micellar water and raising it to her face, Paige takes it with one hand and uses the other to gently turn Azzi to face her and begins wiping mascara off of her eyes and blush off of her cheeks and bronzer off of her forehead. They’re both silent. Azzi’s eyes stay closed. She can feel them fluttering just a little, body yearning to look up at her.
Paige is so gentle with her movements. It makes Azzi ache differently than she’s been aching the last few weeks, but it’s an ache all the same and it makes her lean so far into the hand that’s resting against her shoulder that she’s almost surprised she’s still standing up. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles after a few minutes. Paige is softly wiping at her cheek as she says it.
“Stop apologizing. If I didn’t wanna be doing this, I wouldn’t’ve offered. I wouldn’t be doing it. I wouldn’t be here. I’m doing it ‘cause I care about you.” She starts to rub the cloth at Azzi’s lips to wash away the makeup there. She can’t open her mouth to speak. She just accepts it, standing there with shut eyes. “And I know that this makes things complicated. But we can work it out, okay?” She’s mumbling, voice lilting up a little.
The cloth moves away from Azzi’s mouth. It moves to the bridge of her nose and then slides up to her forehead. She cracks her eyes open a little, nearly squinting at Paige through the dark. The blonde glances down from her forehead to her eyes when she does so. “Well…Can I also be sorry for being mean to you? After we got divorced?”
Paige sighs a little. It’s not one that really holds any negative emotion. “Yeah. I’m also sorry for being mean to you. But don’t worry about getting, like, everything out of the way tonight. We don’t have to figure everything out tonight and talk every single thing out and create a master plan for the future. There are things we’re gonna be sorry about. There are things we’re gonna worry about. But it’s gonna be okay.” Her voice is even.
Azzi’s lips soften into a little bit of a pout. Paige looks at her, eyes sweet. She reaches out to grab at her, to increase contact, to steady herself against the woman standing in front of her. Her hands find purchase on both of her elbows. “Why’re you so smart right now?” The words are mumbled. Her palms cusp around the curve of bent elbows.
Paige exhales a soft laugh. “Only right now? Still being mean to me, I see,” she teases lightly. And the familiarity of the poking fun at each other doesn’t fully soothe Azzi, but it does start to, something within her trying to flicker to life.
She smiles a little. “I didn’t mean it like that, shut up,” she says, rolling her eyes. Paige laughs quietly again. Silence finds them again. Azzi’s eyes try to flutter shut at the comforting feeling of Paige gently wiping at her face. “Thank you for coming over. And for talking to me. I know…Like, obviously we’ve been…weird the last year or so. And especially the last few weeks. But thank you for doing that anyway.” Her voice is quiet.
Paige nods once. “Thank you for talking to me. I’m still so sorry about not trying to help you more.” The cloth hiccups against her skin, pausing as she speaks. Azzi can feel the way it’s not accidental. The way her entire body halts for a moment as she thinks.
Azzi squints a little at Paige, squeezing both of her elbows gently. Paige’s eyes flicker from her forehead down to her eyes. “What did you just say about being sorry?” Her voice is quiet. Paige’s face softens with a gentle smile, eyes dimmed but still a little shiny in the moonlight. She hums so quietly Azzi barely hears it. The cleansing of her face continues.
They go silent again. Azzi bathes in it, a little. Bathes in the intimacy of it, of the quiet way Paige is still willing to care for her, of the slightly aching and tender way she’s still letting Paige in. Her hands stay against Paige’s elbows. She wipes at her face, and then squeezes toothpaste onto her brush, and then stands there and watches her through the mirror as she brushes her teeth. She rinses the brush as Azzi wipes at her mouth and reaches for something to tie her hair up.
The water runs quietly into the bowl of the sink. Azzi’s eyes feel heavy and dry. Her head aches horribly. She closes her eyes and grunts a little as she reaches up behind herself to pull her hair into a single shape. “‘m already hungover. I can feel it.” The water turns off. Paige hums a little. Azzi’s eyes try to flutter shut.
Paige exhales a quiet laugh. “You need to get to bed,” she mumbles, and Azzi scrunches her nose a little and squints into her reflection. The strap of her top cuts into her shoulder as she messes with her curls. Paige moves around the bathroom with ease, setting her toothbrush into its holder and putting away her toothpaste and extra hair ties where they belong. It shouldn’t be surprising to Azzi; it was her home for five years the same way they had been each others’ homes for that time.
Azzi ties her hair up and then wanders out to the main area of her bedroom again. She picks a sleep shirt out from her closet and slips off the outfit she had gone out in, stripping the scent of booze and sweat with it. Paige waits patiently by the bed. When Azzi’s changed, they both crawl onto the mattress, bodies immediately tangling together. It’s so familiar it almost hurts. They lay on their sides and curl into each other, Azzi’s head just underneath Paige’s chin.
She can feel Paige’s exhales ghosting along the parting of her hair. It’s comforting in an odd way. She stares at the hollow of Paige’s throat, the shadows and highlights of it illuminated in the moonlight. She’s tired. She still tilts her head up a little. She’s unable to see Paige’s face but can tell the shifting of her head against the pillow has caught her attention. “So…like, what do we do?”
Paige pauses for a moment. “Well, wha’d’you mean?” She sounds tired. The night is licking stripes up their throats and making their voices a little husky with dry fatigue.
Azzi blinks at Paige’s neck. She feels the arm Paige had thrown over her body shift a little, fingertips dancing lightly over her spine through the fabric of her t-shirt. The touch is gentle. “Well. I’m glad we, like, talked tonight, but we’re still divorced.”
A bout of silence. Azzi blinks again. “I dunno.” Paige sighs a little after she says it. Azzi reaches forward and curls her fingers into the front of her t-shirt the way she had while they were sitting on the floor. It’s comforting. “We could try dating again.”
She pauses. “Okay,” Azzi says. The word loses itself into Paige’s front. She starts rubbing the fabric of Paige’s t-shirt between her fingers. It’s a nervous tic. She can barely see anything through the dark and tries to focus on the feeling of it in her hand and the feeling of Paige wrapped into her. “But, like, trading your daughter for shared custody with your girlfriend is…weird,” she eventually says. Her mouth quirks up a little with the beginning of a smile.
Paige exhales a soft laugh. The air gusts itself along the top of Azzi’s head. “Well. Maybe we could just…speed up the process. Live with each other again after only a little while.”
She doesn’t even fully know what Paige means as “the process,” but she bites anyway. “We’re gonna do the whole process again?”
A soft sigh. “We’ve been separated for almost a year. Things change, people change. I know I still love you, but I haven’t been with you for a while.” Azzi nods a little against Paige. Paige sighs a little again.
“Okay, yeah. We prolly shouldn’t just jump in.” She pauses for a moment. Paige is still against her. Azzi swallows. “I wanna be with you, though,” she mumbles into her.
Paige gently thumbs over her back. It’s comforting in the dark. “Me too. Maybe we can just super speed up the process.”
Azzi sighs quietly. “I’m down for that.” Her voice is quiet, the words barely enunciated.
Paige suddenly rolls onto her back. Azzi’s front is left to feel the stale air of the Californian night, her air conditioning trying to beat back the heat. She blinks her eyes until they’re a little more open. “This is complicated,” Paige mumbles, looking up at the ceiling. Azzi’s gaze traces her side profile through the dark. The slope of her nose, the jut of her Cupid’s bow, the splay of her lashes. She doesn’t sound like she’s actually upset.
Azzi sighs quietly. She stays where she is on her side and looks at Paige next to her. Her chest rises and falls in the dark with her breathing and Azzi likes that she can see it. “I know. But I think we can figure it out.” She murmurs the words to Paige. Paige doesn’t turn to look at Azzi, but Azzi watches as the carved features of her face soften a little with the beginning of a smile tipped up towards the ceiling.
“You think?” Her voice is quiet. Azzi can’t fight the small grin that starts to smooth over her face, pulling at the edges of her mouth and crinkling her already hooded eyes. The blankets between them shift a little. Azzi starts to prop herself up.
“Yeah,” she says as she moves and settles her chin on Paige’s chest. Paige immediately cranes her neck a little to look at her. Her arm comes around Azzi to wrap over her back. Azzi lets herself just look down at Paige from where her chin is perched. Her mouth goes a little dry searching for her next words. Paige is smiling at her, eyes squinted. Azzi’s own sting a little. “When my mom died, you always told me baby steps would be what got me to being okay. We’ll just take baby steps. And we’ll be okay.”
Paige softens at this. She reaches a hand up from her side and gently cards her hand through Azzi’s hair, using her nails to drag her baby hairs away from her forehead. The touch is tender and makes Azzi want sleep even more. “Just really fast baby steps.” Her lips twist with a gentle smile she fights.
Azzi snorts softly, eyes still barely glassy. “Baby steps on a treadmill,” she says, and Paige grins at her, eyes squinting. Azzi can tell how gummy it is through the dark. It’s an adorable expression. Azzi laughs a little again to herself. Paige continues to pet her hair. “God, could you imagine Kitty on a treadmill?”
Paige laughs at this. “I can’t imagine her staying upright for longer than four seconds max,” she says, and Azzi laughs, eyes threatening to shut a little with the upwards press of her cheeks into her eyes. Paige pets her hair one last time and then moves to roll them back to the position they had been in earlier. “Okay, stop, we’re supposed to go to bed. Not imagining our daughter eating shit on a treadmill.”
She laughs into Paige’s chest. “It’s really funny, though,” she says. Paige shoves her shoulder a little and Azzi’s entire face feels like it’s going to slip off of her skull with how easily her smile is splitting open her entire face. Their legs tangle under the blankets. Their arms wrap around each other. Azzi exhales her last laugh out and tucks herself under Paige’s chin again. “Okay. Goodnight. We’re done.”
“G’night, Az,” Paige mumbles close to the top of her head. Her arm tightens a little around Azzi. Azzi leans farther into her front, letting herself be enveloped by the tender comfort of Paige. The spark of hope for their future she had spent so long beating to death is finally standing again. She lets it warm her the same way the body she’s pressing herself into does as the night finally offers them mercy and slips over them.
Hello all! This is the last thing I wrote. I put it together a couple of weeks ago, and WAG Azzi motivated me to post lol. Hopefully this helps number the Breeze loss (if A**** has no haters, I’m dead)
🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄
December 21, 2017
Azzi's childhood bedroom at her grandparents' cabin in Minnesota smelled like the lavender sachets her grandmother tucked into every drawer and the faint scent of pine drifting up from the Christmas tree downstairs. Outside the window, snow fell in thick, lazy flakes, blanketing the quiet neighborhood in white. It was a few days before Christmas, and Paige was here – sitting cross-legged on Azzi's bed, wrapping paper scattered around them like the snow outside, and Azzi's heart was doing something complicated and wonderful in her chest.
This room held so much of Azzi's history. The walls were still painted the soft pink her grandfather had chosen when she was ten. There were photos tucked into the mirror frame – Azzi at various ages, always smiling. A shelf held old trophies and a stuffed bear she'd had since she was five. It was intimate in a way that made Azzi's stomach flutter, having Paige here in this space that had seen so many versions of her.
Paige was wearing one of Azzi's old hoodies – too small on her, the sleeves pulled past her elbows – and sweatpants, her hair pulled back in a messy bun, baby hairs pushed back with a Nike headband. She looked soft and comfortable and so beautiful it made Azzi's chest ache. They'd been stealing these moments all week, sneaking away from family dinners and game nights to just be together, just the two of them.
"Okay," Paige said, and there was something nervous in her voice that made Azzi's stomach flip. "So, um. I have something for you."
Azzi looked up from where she'd been folding a piece of wrapping paper into smaller and smaller squares, a nervous habit she couldn't quite break. "P, you already gave me that UConn hoodie earlier. The one with –”
"The one with my number, yeah." Paige was grinning now, that cocky edge that Azzi had fallen for somewhere between their first conversation and now. "But that was, like, the family-friendly gift. This is," She trailed off, reaching behind her to grab a gift bag that had been hidden by Azzi's pillows. "This is just for you."
The bag was simple – white with silver tissue paper – but Paige's hands shook slightly as she held it out, and that was what made Azzi's throat tight. Five months. They'd been together for five months, and Azzi still wasn't used to this. The way Paige looked at her like she was something worth being nervous about, worth trying for.
Azzi took the bag carefully, like it might break. Like she might break, maybe, under the weight of being loved like this.
"Open it," Paige said softly.
The first thing Azzi pulled out was a hoodie – navy blue, well-worn, with a small stain near the bottom hem that looked like it might be Gatorade. She brought it to her face without thinking, and oh. Oh. It smelled like Paige's laundry detergent and something else, something distinctly her – vanilla and mahogany and that perfume she wore sometimes that Azzi could never quite place.
"I wore it for like three weeks straight," Paige admitted, and when Azzi looked up, her cheeks were pink. "Well, that one and the other two in there. I wanted... I don't know, I wanted you to have something that felt like me when we're not together. Is that weird? That's probably weird."
Azzi couldn't speak. She pulled out the other hoodies – one gray, one black – and they were the same, worn soft and saturated with Paige. She thought about going back to Virginia after this, about the weeks they'd spend apart before they could see each other again, about pulling these on in her own room and pretending Paige was there.
"It's not weird," she managed, voice rough. "It's perfect."
But there was something else in the bag, smaller, wrapped in silver paper. Azzi's hands were definitely shaking now as she peeled it open, and then –
A jewelry box. Navy blue velvet.
Her heart stopped.
"Paige –”
"Just open it," Paige said, and she'd moved closer now, close enough that their knees touched. Close enough that Azzi could feel the heat of her, the solid reality of her.
Inside the box was a necklace. A delicate silver chain with a diamond heart pendant that caught the light and threw tiny rainbows across Azzi's hands. It was beautiful. It was too much. It was everything.
"I know it's only been five months," Paige said quickly, words tumbling over each other. "And I know we're young and everyone probably thinks we're crazy, but Az, I –” She stopped, took a breath. When she spoke again, her voice was steadier. "I wanted you to have my heart. Like, literally. I wanted you to be able to wear it and know that it's yours. That I'm yours."
Azzi looked at her – really looked at her. At the way Paige's blue eyes were bright with unshed tears, at the vulnerable set of her mouth, at the way she was holding herself so carefully, like she was afraid of Azzi's answer. And Azzi thought about the last year of her life, about the darkness she'd crawled through, about the way she'd felt so lonely, despite having so many friends.
And then she thought about a message in May from a girl she'd met at USA Basketball tryouts, about FaceTime calls that stretched past midnight, about August fifth when Paige had kissed her for the first time and Azzi had finally, finally understood what it meant to come home.
"Help me put it on?" she whispered.
Paige's smile was like sunrise. She took the necklace from the box with careful fingers, and Azzi turned, gathering her curls over one shoulder. She felt Paige move behind her, felt the cool kiss of the chain against her collarbones, felt Paige's fingertips brush the nape of her neck as she worked the clasp.
"There," Paige murmured, and Azzi turned back around.
The pendant settled right above her heart, a perfect weight. She touched it with one finger, and Paige watched the movement like it mattered, like everything Azzi did mattered.
"I love it," Azzi said. "I love –” She stopped, the words catching. They hadn't said it yet. Five months, and they'd danced around it, implied it, shown it in a thousand ways, but neither of them had been brave enough to say it out loud.
Paige's hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing across her cheekbone. "Yeah," she said softly. "Me too."
It was enough. For now, it was enough.
Azzi leaned forward and kissed her, slow and sweet, tasting like the cookies they'd stolen from the kitchen earlier and something that was just Paige. When they pulled apart, Paige was grinning again, and Azzi felt lighter than she had in months. Years, maybe.
"Okay," Azzi said, trying to collect herself. "Okay, my turn. But I need to warn you – it's not as romantic as a literal heart necklace."
"Azzi, you could give me a rock and I'd be geeked," Paige said, but she was already eyeing the bag Azzi had stashed in her closet, the one she'd been paranoid about Paige finding all week.
Azzi retrieved it, settled back down next to Paige. "So, there's a few things," she started. "The first part is just, like, stuff I know you like. Stuff that made me think of you."
She watched as Paige pulled out the contents. A bag of Goldfish, the extra cheddar kind that Paige ate by the handful during film sessions in Europe. A candle in some scent called "Sugarplum Gumdrops" that Azzi had spent twenty minutes sniffing candles at Target to find. A pack of Paige's favorite gum. Sour Patch Kids. A new phone case with a collage of FaceTime screenshots and the few pictures they'd taken over the summer. Small things. Stupid things, maybe, but Paige was looking at each one like it was treasure, and Azzi's chest ached with how much she wanted to give this girl everything.
"Az, this is – you didn't have to –”
"There's more," Azzi interrupted, and she pulled out the shoebox.
Paige's eyes went wide. "No. No way. Azzi, these are –”
"Kobe 12s," Azzi finished. "The purple ones you were looking at online last month. I saw the tab when I was helping you with math last month."
Paige opened the box with reverent hands, pulling out one of the shoes and just staring at it. "These are so expensive," she said quietly. "Az, you can't –”
"I can," Azzi said firmly. "I wanted to. You're always talking about how your shoes are getting worn down, and I know Kobes are your favorite, and I just – I wanted you to have them."
Paige set the shoe down carefully and turned to Azzi, and there were actual tears in her eyes now. "I don't know what I did to deserve you," she said, voice cracking.
"You existed," Azzi said simply. "You spoke to me first. You made me laugh when I thought I'd forgotten how. You made me feel like – like I was worth something again."
"Azzi –”
"There's one more thing," Azzi said quickly, before she could lose her nerve. She reached into the bottom of the bag and pulled out an envelope. Her hands were shaking again. "This one's... it's big. And if it's too much, or if you don't want to, that's totally okay, I just thought –”
"Baby, breathe," Paige said, and the endearment still made Azzi's stomach flip every time. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it's perfect."
Azzi handed her the envelope. Watched as Paige opened it, pulled out the card she'd spent an hour trying to write. The front was simple – a photo of them from the summer, Azzi's head on Paige's shoulder, both of them flushed and happy. Inside, in Azzi's careful handwriting:
Paige,
My parents want to know if you'd like to spend the summer with us in Virginia. All of it, if you can. We have a guest room, but let's be real, you'd probably end up in my room anyway. We could train together, and you could meet my friends, and we could just... be together. No countdowns until the next visit. No goodbyes for a while.
I know it's a lot to ask. But I'm asking anyway, because I'm greedy when it comes to you. I want all your time, all your attention, all your terrible jokes at six in the morning. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up and have you still be there.
Think about it?
Love, Azzi
(Yes, love. I'm saying it first, even if it's in a card. I love you. I've loved you since you made me laugh so hard I snorted on our third FaceTime call and you said it was the cutest thing you'd ever heard. I love you.)
Paige read it once. Twice. Looked up at Azzi with eyes that were definitely crying now, and then she was moving, pulling Azzi into her lap, arms wrapped around her waist, face buried in Azzi's neck.
"Yes," she said, muffled against Azzi's skin. "Yes, obviously yes, are you kidding me? I would spend every second with you if I could. I'd move to Virginia right now if my dad wouldn't kill me."
Azzi laughed, wet and relieved, her own tears finally spilling over. "Yeah?"
Paige pulled back just enough to look at her, and her smile was blinding. "Yeah. And also –” She reached up, cupped Azzi's face in both hands. "I love you too. I've been trying to figure out how to say it for weeks, and you just – you wrote it in a card like it was easy."
"It is easy," Azzi said. "Loving you is the easiest thing I've ever done."
Paige kissed her then, deep and sure, and Azzi melted into it, into her. The necklace pressed between them, a small hard point of pressure right over Azzi's heart, and she thought, “This. This is what I was waiting for. This is what I survived for.”
When they finally broke apart, Paige was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning – which, Azzi supposed, they both were. "Best Christmas ever," Paige declared.
"Yeah," Azzi agreed, touching the pendant at her throat, already planning which hoodie she'd wear on the plane home. "Best Christmas ever."
Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing everything in quiet white. Downstairs, Azzi could hear her grandmother's laugh, her grandfather's voice, the sounds of her family moving through the house. Real life, waiting to fold them back into it. But for now, they stayed where they were – Azzi in Paige's lap, Paige's arms around her waist, the winter light going soft and gray around them.
Five months. It had only been five months, but Azzi knew, bone-deep and certain. This was it. This was her person. This was her future, sitting right here in her baby pink bedroom, holding her like she was something precious.
"Hey," Paige said softly, and Azzi looked at her. "Thank you. For all of it. For choosing me."
Azzi smiled, leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Always," she promised. "I'll always choose you."
And in that moment, in Azzi's childhood bedroom with wrapping paper scattered around them and the smell of lavender and pine in the air, Azzi meant it with everything she had.
Always.
🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄
December 23, 2024
Paige's apartment smelled like cinnamon and pine – the candle Azzi had insisted they get from Target burning on the dresser, the small Christmas tree they'd decorated together listing slightly to the left in the corner. Outside, Storrs was buried under fresh snow, the kind of quiet that only came two days before Christmas when the whole world seemed to be holding its breath.
Azzi sat on Paige's bed, her injured leg stretched out in front of her, the brace a constant reminder of everything that had gone wrong. December seventh. Louisville. The sharp pop in her knee that she'd felt more than heard. And then December twenty-first – two days ago – USC. Her first game back. Eight minutes where she'd moved like a stranger in her own body, every step tentative, every shot feeling wrong. Zero points. Zero assists. Zero anything except the growing certainty that she'd lost it, that whatever had made her her on the court had disappeared with that injury.
She kept replaying it. The way she'd hesitated on a drive she would've taken without thinking six months ago. The shot that had clanged off the rim, her release all wrong because she couldn't plant her leg the way she needed to. The moment Coach had subbed her out and she'd seen the concern in her eyes, the unspoken question. Are you sure you're ready?
Azzi wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore.
You're not the same player, a voice whispered in her head, cruel and insistent. You're never going to be the same player. You came back too soon and now everyone knows you can't do it anymore.
She'd been living in Paige's apartment since her freshman year, practically speaking. Her dorm room was just a place to keep her stuff; this was home. Paige's bed, Paige's kitchen, Paige's arms around her at night when the anxiety kept her awake. But lately, Azzi felt like a fraud. Like she was taking up space meant for the version of herself who could actually play, who could contribute, who deserved to be Paige Bueckers' girlfriend instead of just – this. Broken. Useless. A shell of who she used to be.
"Stop," Paige said from the doorway, and Azzi's head snapped up. Her girlfriend was watching her with those too-knowing blue eyes, the ones that saw through every defense Azzi tried to put up. "Baby, you're doing it again."
"Doing what?" Azzi asked, but her voice came out flat. Defeated.
Paige crossed the room and sat carefully on the bed next to Azzi's good leg. She was wearing the UConn sweatpants Azzi had stolen and then given back and then stolen again, and one of Azzi's St. John's hoodies that was too small on her. Her hair was down, falling in waves around her shoulders, and she looked soft and warm and so beautiful it made Azzi's chest ache with how much she didn't deserve this.
"You're replaying the USC game," Paige said quietly. She reached out, laced their fingers together. "I can see it on your face. You've been doing it since we got back to the apartment. You're tearing yourself apart over eight minutes of basketball."
Azzi looked down at their joined hands. Paige's thumb was tracing circles on her palm, a soothing rhythm that Azzi had memorized over the last seven years, but tonight it felt like too much. Like she didn't deserve to be comforted when she'd failed so spectacularly.
"I played like shit," she said, voice rough. "I couldn't – P, I couldn't do anything. I hesitated on every drive. My shot was off. I couldn't plant my leg right and it threw off my whole release. Coach took me out after eight minutes because I was that bad. Eight minutes, and I couldn't even –” Her voice cracked. "I scored zero points. In my first game back. Zero."
"You played hurt," Paige said firmly. "You played two weeks after a knee injury that would've kept most people out for months. You played because you're stubborn and you wanted to prove you could do it, but baby –” She squeezed Azzi's hand. "That wasn't you out there. That was you trying to play through pain and fear and the weight of everyone's expectations. That wasn't Azzi Fudd basketball."
"What if it is now?" Azzi whispered. The fear that had been sitting in her chest for two days finally broke free, spilling out in a rush. "What if that's all I am now? What if I can't get back to where I was? What if I'm never –” She stopped, swallowed hard. "What if I'm never that good again?"
Paige was quiet for a moment, and when Azzi finally looked up, there was something fierce in her eyes. Something that made Azzi's breath catch.
"Azzi," Paige said, and her voice was steady. Sure. "Look at me."
Azzi did.
"You are the most talented basketball player I have ever seen," Paige said, and the conviction in her voice made Azzi's throat tight. "And I don't say that lightly. I've played with and against some of the best players in the country. I've watched film on everyone. And you – baby, you're different. You're special."
"Paige –”
"No, listen to me." Paige shifted closer, cupped Azzi's face in her free hand. "I've watched you play since you were fourteen. I've seen you read defenses before they even set up. I've seen you catch passes that shouldn't be possible, shoot so quick that you make coaches lose their minds. I've watched you elevate everyone around you just by being on the court. Your court vision is insane, Az. Your basketball IQ is off the charts. And your shot –” She shook her head. "When you're healthy, when you're not playing through pain and fear, your shot is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Pure. Effortless. Automatic."
Azzi's eyes were burning. "That's not who I was two days ago."
"No," Paige agreed. "Two days ago, you were someone playing on a knee that's still healing, trying to force your body to do things it's not ready for yet. You were someone who's been sitting out for weeks, whose rhythm is off, whose confidence is shaken. But that's not who you are, Azzi. That's not who you'll be when you're healthy again."
"You don't know that," Azzi said, but it came out weak. Desperate.
"Yes, I do." Paige's voice was fierce now, almost angry. "I know you. I know your work ethic. I know how you show up every single day, even when it's hard, even when you're scared. I know you're going to do the PT and the strength training and all the boring, painful shit that comes with recovery. And I know that when you're ready, really ready, not just cleared to play but actually ready, you're going to be exactly who you've always been. The player who makes everyone around her better. The player who can take over a game without anyone realizing it until they look at the stat sheet. The player who –” Her voice softened. "The player I fell in love with watching on a basketball court when we were kids."
Azzi's vision blurred. "I'm scared," she whispered. "I'm so scared that I won't get back there. That I've lost it."
"You haven't lost anything," Paige said. "You're healing. There's a difference." She brushed her thumb across Azzi's cheekbone, catching a tear. "And I'm gonna be here for all of it. The bad practices and the frustrating PT sessions and the days when you want to throw your brace across the room. I'm gonna be here reminding you who you are when you forget. Because I see you, Azzi. I see the player you are, the player you're going to be again. And she's extraordinary."
Azzi couldn't speak. She looked at Paige, at the certainty in her eyes, the unwavering belief, and felt something in her chest crack open. Not breaking, but softening. Making room for the possibility that maybe Paige was right. Maybe two days ago wasn't the end of her story. Maybe it was just a bad chapter in the middle.
"I don't know what I did to deserve you," Azzi said finally, voice thick with tears.
"You existed," Paige said simply. "You showed up and you were brilliant and you made me want to be better. On the court and off it." She smiled, soft and a little nervous. "Which is actually – I have something for you. I was gonna wait until tomorrow morning, but I think you need it now."
"Paige –”
Paige reached into her pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, navy blue, and Azzi's heart stopped. "It's not – I mean, it is, but it's not –” Paige laughed, shaky. "Just open it."
Azzi took the box with trembling hands. Inside was a ring – delicate silver with a small diamond, simple and perfect and so Paige it made Azzi's chest ache. It wasn't an engagement ring, not quite, but it was a promise. She could see it in the way Paige was looking at her, in the careful hope in her eyes.
"It's a promise ring," Paige said quietly. "I know we can't – I mean, we're not ready for the whole marriage thing yet, but I wanted you to have something. A reminder that I'm not going anywhere. That when things get hard – and they're gonna get hard, baby, basketball is hard, life is hard – I'm still gonna be here. Believing in you. Choosing you. Every single day."
Azzi stared at the ring, at the way it caught the light from the Christmas tree. "Paige –”
"I know who you are," Paige continued, and her voice was steady now. Sure. "I know you're going to come back from this. I know you're going to be the player you've always been, the one who makes me better just by being on the court with me. And I want you to know that I'm here for all of it. The comeback and the hard days and the moments when you doubt yourself. I'm here, Az. Through everything."
"The inscription," Paige said, and Azzi looked closer. Inside the band, in tiny script. Through everything. -P
"Through everything," Azzi repeated, and the words felt like an anchor. Like something to hold onto when the world felt too big and her knee hurt too much and she couldn't remember who she was supposed to be.
"Through everything," Paige confirmed. She took the ring from the box, held it up. "Can I?"
Azzi held out her right hand – her left still felt too significant, too much like a promise they weren't quite ready to make public – and Paige slid the ring onto her ring finger. It fit perfectly, catching the light from the Christmas tree, and Azzi thought. This. This is what forever looks like.
"I love you," she said, voice rough with tears. "God, P, I love you so much."
"I love you too," Paige said, and then she was kissing her, soft and sweet and tasting like the hot chocolate they'd made earlier. When they pulled apart, Paige was grinning. "Okay, your turn. I know you got me something because you've been weird about that bag in the closet all week."
Azzi laughed, wet and relieved. "I have been weird about it, haven't I?"
"So weird," Paige agreed. "Suspiciously weird."
Azzi shifted carefully, mindful of her knee, and reached for the gift bag she'd hidden behind Paige's shoe rack. Her leg twinged as she moved, a sharp reminder of her limitations, but Paige was already there, steadying her, helping her settle back against the pillows.
"I got you two things," Azzi said, pulling out the first box. "Well, technically three, but two from me."
Paige opened the jewelry box first, and her eyes went wide. Inside was a diamond tennis bracelet, delicate and sparkling, the kind of thing Azzi had seen Paige looking at online but never buying for herself because she always spent her money on other people.
"Azzi, this is –” Paige looked up, and there were tears in her eyes again. "Baby, this is too much."
"It's not," Azzi said firmly. "You're always giving me things, always taking care of me. I wanted to give you something beautiful. Something that reminds you that you're –” She stopped, searching for the words. "You're everything to me, P. You're my whole world. And I wanted you to have something that shows that."
Paige put the bracelet on with shaking hands, and it looked perfect on her wrist, catching the light every time she moved. "I love it," she said softly. "I'm never taking it off."
"Good," Azzi said. "Because there's more."
She handed Paige the envelope, watched as her girlfriend opened it carefully. Inside were three tickets – plane tickets to Dallas, hotel confirmation, tickets to a W game in May. Paige's first W game, the one Azzi had been planning to go to until her family had booked a cruise months ago, before the injury, before everything had changed.
"These are for your dad, Drew, and KK," Azzi explained. "I know I can't be there – I'll be on that stupid cruise with my family – but I wanted to make sure the people you love most got to see you play. Your first professional game, P. That's huge. And I wanted –” Her voice cracked. "I wanted you to know that even though I can't be there physically, I'm still there. I'm always there."
Paige stared at the tickets, and when she looked up, she was crying for real now. "You – Az, you didn't have to –”
"I wanted to," Azzi interrupted. "I wanted you to have your people there. And I know KK's gonna lose her mind, and your dad's gonna cry, and Drew's gonna be so hyped he won't sleep for a week. They should be there. They should get to see you shine."
Paige set the tickets down carefully and then she was moving, pulling Azzi into her arms, holding her so tight Azzi could barely breathe. "Thank you," she whispered against Azzi's hair. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the Christmas tree lights casting soft shadows across the room. Azzi breathed in the scent of Paige's shampoo, felt the steady beat of her heart, and thought. This is home. Not the apartment, not Connecticut. This. Her.
When Paige pulled back, her eyes were dark with something that made Azzi's stomach flip. "Can I –” She stopped, swallowed. "I want to make you feel good. If you're up for it. If your knee –”
"Yes," Azzi said immediately. "Please. I need – I need you."
Paige kissed her then, deeper this time, and Azzi melted into it. They'd done this before, of course – seven years together meant they knew each other's bodies as well as they knew their own – but tonight felt different. Weighted with the promise ring on Azzi's finger, with the vulnerability of the last two days, with the knowledge that they were choosing each other even when things were hard.
Paige was careful as she helped Azzi out of her clothes, mindful of her injured leg, arranging pillows to support her knee. "Tell me if anything hurts," she murmured, pressing kisses to Azzi's collarbone, her sternum, the soft skin of her stomach.
"I will," Azzi promised, but she was already lost in the sensation of Paige's hands on her skin, the gentle reverence in every touch.
Paige took her time, mapping Azzi's body like it was the first time, like she was memorizing every curve and hollow. Her hands were warm and sure, and when she finally touched Azzi where she needed it most, Azzi gasped, her back arching off the bed.
And Azzi did. She let herself fall into the pleasure, into the safety of Paige's touch, into the knowledge that she was loved – not despite her injury, not despite her bad game, but because of all of it. Because she was Azzi, and that was enough.
Paige was gentle, so gentle, building Azzi up slowly with her fingers and her mouth, murmuring praise against her skin. "You're so beautiful," she said. "So perfect. I love you so much, Az. I love you."
When Azzi came, it was with Paige's name on her lips and tears streaming down her face. Not from pain, but from the overwhelming feeling of being safe, of being loved, of being held together when she felt like she was falling apart.
Paige gathered her close immediately, pressing kisses to her wet cheeks, her forehead, her lips. "Hey, hey, you're okay. I've got you."
"I know," Azzi sobbed. "I know you do. That's why I'm crying. Because you – you make me feel so safe, P. Even when everything else is falling apart, you make me feel like I'm gonna be okay."
"You are gonna be okay," Paige said fiercely. "We're gonna be okay. Both of us. Together."
Azzi nodded, burying her face in Paige's neck, breathing her in. The promise ring was cool against her skin where her hand rested on Paige's shoulder, a constant reminder of the vow they'd made to each other tonight.
Through everything.
"Merry Christmas, baby," Paige whispered.
Azzi smiled against her skin, exhausted and overwhelmed and so full of love she thought she might burst. "Merry Christmas, P."
Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing Storrs in white. Inside, wrapped up in each other in Paige's bed, they were warm and safe and home. The bad game didn't matter. The injury didn't matter. All that mattered was this. The two of them, choosing each other, promising to show up for the hard days just as much as the good ones.
Seven years, and they were just getting started.
Azzi touched the ring on her finger, felt Paige's heartbeat steady and strong beneath her palm, and knew. This was forever. This was the rest of her life. And she'd never been more sure of anything.
🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄🤍♾️🎄
December 25, 2026
The cottage was quiet in the way only a house in the woods could be – no traffic sounds, no neighbors, just the whisper of wind through bare branches and the occasional creak of old wood settling. Paige had bought it at the end of the April, a drafting present for Azzi that had made her cry in the middle of the realtor's office. It was perfect, tucked away in the Connecticut countryside with a stone fireplace and wide windows that looked out over a frozen pond. Their own private world, away from cameras and expectations and the constant noise of being who they were to everyone else.
Azzi lay in their bed – their bed, in their house, because they were married now and everything was theirs – with Paige's arm draped across her waist and winter sunlight streaming through the curtains. It was Christmas morning, early enough that the world still felt hushed and new, and she couldn't stop touching the wedding band on her left hand. Simple silver, matching Paige's, hidden under the promise ring Paige had given her two years ago. No one knew. Not their families, not their teams, not the media that tracked their every move. Just them and the six friends who'd stood witness in that Dallas courthouse three months ago, watching them promise forever in a ceremony that had lasted maybe ten minutes but had felt like the most important thing Azzi had ever done.
"You're thinking too loud," Paige mumbled against her shoulder, voice rough with sleep. "I can hear your brain from here."
Azzi smiled, turning in Paige's arms so they were face to face. Her wife – God, her wife – looked soft and rumpled, blonde hair a mess against the pillow, eyes still half-closed. Beautiful in the way that made Azzi's chest ache, the way it had since she was fifteen and Paige had sat next to her on a plane and changed her entire life.
"Just thinking about how this is our first married Christmas," Azzi said quietly. She traced her fingers along Paige's jaw, down her neck, feeling the steady pulse beneath her skin. "And how no one knows except us."
Paige's eyes opened fully then, blue and clear and so full of love it made Azzi dizzy. "You regret that? Keeping it secret?"
"No." Azzi shook her head. "I love that it's just ours. That we get to have this before the world gets to have an opinion about it." She paused, bit her lip. "I just – I want to be able to call you my wife. Out loud. Not just in my head."
"You can call me your wife here," Paige said, pulling her closer. "In this house, in this bed, you can call me whatever you want. Mrs. Bueckers. Your wife. That annoying blonde you're stuck with forever."
Azzi laughed, but it came out shaky. "I'm not stuck. I chose you."
"Yeah, you did." Paige kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips. "In front of God and KK and a very confused courthouse clerk. You chose me."
They'd gotten married on September twenty-eighth, right after the W season ended and before either of them had to think about Unrivaled or training or anything except each other. It had been Paige's idea –”Let's just do it, Az. Let's get married. I don't want to wait anymore." – and Azzi had said yes before Paige had even finished the sentence. They flew Nika, KK (obviously Kayleigh too), Ice, Sarah, and Kelis out to Dallas, and stood in a courthouse that smelled like old paper and floor cleaner, holding hands and crying through vows they'd written the night before. Nika had sobbed. KK had livestreamed it on a private Instagram that only the six of them could see. Ice had made a joke about finally making honest women out of them, and Paige had laughed so hard she'd nearly dropped the ring.
It had been perfect. Small and private and theirs in a way that a big wedding never could have been. And now they were here, in their cottage, with nothing to do except exist together before Unrivaled started and the world demanded their attention again.
"I have something for you," Azzi said suddenly. Her heart was pounding, nervous in a way she hadn't expected. "A Christmas present. Well, kind of. It's more like –” She stopped, took a breath. "Can you close your eyes for a second?"
Paige raised an eyebrow but obeyed, a small smile playing at her lips. "If this is another pair of shoes I'm gonna –”
"It's not shoes," Azzi interrupted. She reached over to her nightstand, pulled open the drawer, and extracted the envelope she'd hidden there a week ago. Her hands were shaking as she held it, staring at the official seal, the legal language, the names typed in neat black ink. "Okay. You can open them."
Paige opened her eyes and looked at the envelope, then at Azzi's face. "What is this?"
"Open it," Azzi said softly.
Paige sat up, taking the envelope carefully. She slid her finger under the flap and pulled out the papers inside, and Azzi watched her face as she read. Watched the moment comprehension dawned, watched her eyes go wide and then bright with tears.
"Az," Paige whispered. "This is –”
"Name change papers," Azzi finished. "Legal ones. I filed them last week." She swallowed hard, feeling her own eyes burn. "I'm Azzi Bueckers now. Legally. Officially. I know we said we'd keep our own names publicly for a while, but I wanted – I needed you to know that I'm yours, P. Completely. I've been yours since I was fifteen years old, and now I get to have your name, and I –” Her voice cracked. "I wanted you to have this for Christmas. Proof that I meant every word I said in that courthouse."
Paige stared at the papers, at Azzi's name – Azzi Jazlyn Bueckers – printed in official typeface. When she looked up, tears were streaming down her face. "You took my name," she said, voice breaking. "You actually took my name."
"Of course I did," Azzi said. "I'm your wife. I want your name."
Paige set the papers down carefully on the nightstand and then she was pulling Azzi into her arms, holding her so tight Azzi could barely breathe. "I've wanted to give you my name since I was sixteen years old," Paige said against her hair. "Did you know that? I used to write it in my notebooks. Azzi Bueckers. Mrs. Bueckers. I'd practice saying it out loud when no one was around, just to hear how it sounded. And I thought – God, I thought it would be years before I could actually give it to you. Before we could be married and you could be mine in every way that matters."
Azzi pulled back just enough to see Paige's face. "I've always been yours," she said. "The name is just making it official."
"I know, but –” Paige wiped at her eyes, laughing wetly. "It's different. Having you take my name. It's like – you're choosing me in this permanent, legal way. You're choosing to be a Bueckers. To be part of my family. To be –” She stopped, shook her head. "I don't have the words for what this means to me."
"Then show me," Azzi said quietly.
Paige's eyes darkened, and Azzi felt heat pool low in her stomach. They'd made love plenty of times since the wedding – they'd barely left their apartment in Dallas for two days afterward – but this felt different. Weighted with the knowledge that Azzi had taken Paige's name, that she was Azzi Bueckers now, that they were bound together in every way that mattered.
"Say it," Paige murmured, leaning in to kiss Azzi's neck. "Say your name."
"Azzi Bueckers," Azzi breathed, and Paige groaned against her skin.
"Again."
"Azzi Bueckers." Louder this time, more sure. "I'm Azzi Bueckers. I'm your wife."
Paige kissed her then, deep and hungry, and Azzi melted into it. They'd been together for nine years – nine years of learning each other's bodies, of figuring out what made the other gasp and moan and fall apart – but being married had added a new dimension to it. A sense of permanence, of mine, of knowing that this was forever and they never had to hold back.
Paige's hands were everywhere – sliding under Azzi's sleep shirt, tracing the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts. "You're so beautiful," she murmured between kisses. "My wife. My Azzi. Mine."
"Yours," Azzi agreed, arching into her touch. "Always yours."
They shed their clothes quickly, urgently, and then Paige was pressing Azzi back into the mattress, settling between her legs. The winter sunlight painted gold across Paige's skin, caught in her hair, and Azzi thought, "I get to have this forever. I get to wake up next to her every morning for the rest of my life."
"I love you," Azzi said, reaching up to cup Paige's face. "I love you so much it scares me sometimes."
"Don't be scared," Paige said. She kissed Azzi's palm, her wrist, the sensitive skin of her inner arm. "I've got you. I'm never letting you go."
"Promise?"
"I promised in that courthouse," Paige said. "And I'm promising now. You're stuck with me, Azzi Bueckers. For better or worse, in sickness and health, till death do us part."
Azzi's breath hitched as Paige's hand slid between her legs, finding her already wet and ready. "Paige –”
"I know, baby. I know." Paige's fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles, building Azzi up with the kind of patience that came from years of knowing exactly what she needed. "You're so perfect. So responsive. I love watching you fall apart for me."
Azzi's hips rolled, chasing the friction, and Paige smiled against her collarbone. "That's it. Take what you need."
But Azzi didn't want slow. She wanted – needed – more. She grabbed Paige's wrist, stilling her movements. "I need you," she said, voice rough. "All of you. Now."
Paige's eyes flashed with heat. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Azzi pulled her up into a kiss, biting at her lower lip. "I want my wife to fuck me."
Paige groaned, low and desperate, and then she was moving, shifting so she could press closer, her thigh between Azzi's legs. The pressure was perfect, exactly what Azzi needed, and she gasped as Paige began to move.
"Like this?" Paige asked, voice strained. "Is this what you want, Mrs. Bueckers?"
The name sent a jolt of pleasure through Azzi's entire body. "Yes," she moaned. "God, yes. Don't stop."
Paige didn't. She set a rhythm that was faster than usual, more urgent, her own breathing ragged as she ground against Azzi. They moved together like they were on the court – perfectly in sync, anticipating each other's movements, working toward the same goal. Paige's hand found Azzi's again, their wedding bands clicking together as their fingers intertwined.
"I love you," Paige panted. "I love you, I love you, I love you."
Azzi was close, so close, the pleasure building in waves that threatened to pull her under. "Say it again," she gasped. "Say my name."
"Azzi Bueckers," Paige said, and her voice was reverent. Awed. "My wife. My Azzi. You're mine."
That was all it took. Azzi came with a cry, her body arching off the bed, pleasure crashing through her in waves that left her shaking. Paige followed moments later, burying her face in Azzi's neck and moaning her name like a prayer.
They collapsed together, breathing hard, limbs tangled and hearts racing. Azzi felt boneless, sated, so full of love she thought she might burst. Paige was heavy on top of her, solid and real and hers, and Azzi wrapped her arms around her wife's back, holding her close.
"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Bueckers," Paige murmured eventually, pressing a kiss to Azzi's shoulder.
Azzi smiled, running her fingers through Paige's hair. "Merry Christmas, my wife."
They lay there for a long time, wrapped up in each other, the cottage quiet around them. Outside, snow had started to fall, dusting the trees and the frozen pond in white. Inside, they were warm and safe and married, with nothing to do except exist in this perfect moment.
"We should probably get up eventually," Paige said, but she made no move to leave. "I got you an actual Christmas present. It's downstairs."
"Later," Azzi said. "I want to stay here a little longer. Just us."
"Just us," Paige agreed. She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at Azzi with so much love it made Azzi's throat tight. "You know we're gonna have to tell people eventually. About the marriage. About your name."
"I know." Azzi touched Paige's face, traced the line of her jaw. "But not yet. Let's keep it ours for a little while longer. We can use Bueckers-Fudd publicly, keep playing it off like we're just really committed girlfriends. And then when we're ready – when the timing feels right – we'll tell everyone. But for now –” She smiled. "For now, I just want to be your wife. In this house, in this bed. I want to call you my wife and hear you call me Mrs. Bueckers and not have to share it with anyone else."
"I can do that," Paige said softly. She leaned down, kissed Azzi slow and sweet. "I can definitely do that."
They stayed in bed until noon, talking and laughing and making love again, slower this time, savoring each other. When they finally got up, Paige made them coffee and Azzi started a fire in the fireplace, and they opened presents in their pajamas like they had all the time in the world.
Because they did. They had forever. They had this cottage and their secret marriage and the promise of every Christmas to come. They had each other's names and each other's hearts and the certainty that no matter what happened – injuries or bad games or the pressure of being who they were to the world – they would always have this. Their private world. Their love. Their choice to be each other's family.
Azzi looked at the wedding band on her finger, at Paige curled up next to her on the couch, at the snow falling outside their window, and thought: This is what happiness looks like. This is what home feels like.
Nine years, and they were just getting started.
Azzi Bueckers touched her wife's hand, felt the matching ring cool against her skin, and knew. This was forever. This was the rest of her life. And she'd never been more sure of anything.
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December 25, 2038
The Dallas house was exactly what they'd envisioned when they bought it five years ago – a custom build designed with their future family in mind. Four bedrooms, a sprawling backyard, a wraparound porch perfect for watching sunsets. They'd walked through the blueprints together, pointing out where the kids' rooms would be, where they'd put a playroom, imagining the life they'd build there. And now, with scuff marks on the hardwood floors from years of basketball shoes and dog paws, with height marks penciled on the kitchen doorframe, with photographs covering every available surface, it was exactly as perfect as they'd dreamed. Paige and Azzi on their wedding day (the real one, the big one they'd had two years after the courthouse, when they were ready to share it with the world). Paige holding a newborn Elias, tears streaming down her face. Azzi pregnant with Noemi, glowing in the late afternoon sun. The four of them – and then the six of them, once the dogs arrived – piled on the couch, laughing at something just out of frame.
Twenty-one years. That's how long they'd been together. Azzi still couldn't quite believe it sometimes – that the girl she'd fallen in love with at fifteen was the woman sitting next to her now, forty years old and somehow more beautiful than ever, watching their children play in the yard through the wide living room windows.
"Elias, if you put snow down your sister's coat one more time, you're coming inside!" Paige called, not bothering to get up from where she was curled against Azzi on the couch. Her voice carried through the cracked window anyway, and Elias – six years old and already too tall, already showing signs of having inherited both his mothers' height – dropped the snowball he'd been packing and held up his hands in surrender.
"I wasn't gonna!" he yelled back, grinning in a way that said he absolutely was gonna.
Noemi, three and fierce and completely unbothered by her brother's antics, stuck her tongue out at him and went back to building what appeared to be an elaborate snow fort. Their two dogs – Kyrie and Diana, a black lab and a staffy mix – bounded around them, barking and rolling in the fresh powder that had fallen overnight.
"They're gonna be soaked," Azzi murmured, but she was smiling. The fire crackled in the fireplace behind them, filling the room with warmth and the smell of burning wood. Coffee sat cooling on the table, next to the remnants of the cinnamon rolls Paige had made that morning. Christmas music played softly from the speaker in the kitchen. It was perfect. Quiet and normal and theirs.
"They're fine," Paige said, pressing a kiss to Azzi's temple. "Let them be kids."
Azzi leaned into her, feeling the solid weight of Paige's arm around her shoulders, the familiar comfort of her wife's body against hers. They'd been out for years now – had stopped hiding after that first Unrivaled season, had done the interviews and the photo shoots and weathered the storm of public opinion until it became just normal. Paige and Azzi. Azzi and Paige. Married. A family. The kids had never known anything different, had grown up in a world where their moms' love was just a fact of life, as unremarkable as the sky being blue.
"Remember our first Christmas?" Azzi asked quietly. "In the Minnesota cabin?"
Paige's hand found hers, their fingers interlacing automatically. "You gave me a necklace. I gave you Kobes and an invitation to a wedding."
"You cried."
"You cried," Paige countered, laughing softly. "You were sixteen and so scared of what we were, and I just – I wanted to give you everything. I wanted to promise you forever even though we were kids and had no idea what forever actually meant."
Azzi turned to look at her wife. Paige's hair was shorter now, cut in a way that was easier to manage, with threads of silver starting to show at her temples. Laugh lines creased the corners of her eyes. She was wearing an old UConn sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants, no makeup, completely comfortable. The most beautiful thing Azzi had ever seen.
"We figured it out," Azzi said.
"Yeah." Paige's thumb traced circles on the back of Azzi's hand. "We did."
Outside, Elias had apparently decided the snow fort was a valid target and was launching snowballs at it while Noemi shrieked in outrage. Kyrie was trying to eat the snow, and Diana had found a stick and was attempting to get someone – anyone – to throw it for her.
"They're so big," Paige said, and there was something wistful in her voice. "When did they get so big?"
"I don't know." Azzi watched Noemi tackle her brother, both of them going down in a heap of snow and laughter. "Feels like yesterday I was pregnant with Eli, and you were crying in the hospital because you couldn't believe we'd made a whole person."
"I wasn't crying," Paige protested. "I was – okay, I was crying. But he was perfect. They're both perfect."
Azzi's heart squeezed. She'd been thinking about this for months, turning it over in her mind, wondering if it was crazy or selfish or too much. But watching Paige watch their children, seeing that soft look on her face, the one that said she'd give them anything, be anything, do anything to make them happy – Azzi knew. She knew what she wanted.
"P," she said carefully. "Can I ask you something?"
Paige looked at her, eyebrows raised. "That tone means you're either about to suggest something insane or you want to have a serious conversation, and I'm not sure which one I'm more prepared for."
Azzi laughed, nervous suddenly. "Maybe both?"
"Okay." Paige shifted so they were facing each other more fully, giving Azzi her complete attention. "Hit me."
Azzi took a breath. "What would you think about having another baby?"
Paige blinked. Once. Twice. "Another –” She stopped, shook her head like she was trying to clear it. "You want another baby?"
"I want –” Azzi paused, trying to find the right words. "I want you to get to hold a newborn in front of the fireplace on Christmas morning. I want to watch you rock them to sleep and sing off-key lullabies and cry because you can't believe how small their fingers are. I want –” Her voice cracked. "Eli and Noemi are getting so big, P. And I love watching them grow, I do, but I miss – I miss the baby stage. I miss you with a baby. And I know we said two was enough, and if you don't want to do it again, that's okay, but I just – I needed to ask."
Paige was staring at her, eyes wide and bright with unshed tears. "You want another baby so I can hold them by the fireplace on Christmas?"
"I want another baby because I love our family and I want to make it bigger," Azzi said. "Because I love being a mom and I love watching you be a mom, and because –” She reached up, cupped Paige's face in her hands. "Because we're almost forty and we still have time, and I don't want to look back in ten years and wish we'd done it. I want the chaos and the sleepless nights and the tiny clothes everywhere. I want all of it. With you."
Paige let out a shaky breath. "I thought – I thought you were done. After Noemi, you said two was perfect, and I didn't want to push –”
"I know what I said." Azzi's thumbs brushed away the tears that had started to fall down Paige's cheeks. "But that was nine years ago, and things change. I've changed. We've changed. And maybe I'm crazy, maybe this is a terrible idea, but I can't stop thinking about it. About you holding our baby. About Eli and Noemi being big siblings. About getting to do this one more time."
"One more time," Paige repeated, and then she was laughing, pulling Azzi into her arms. "God, Az. You can't just – you can't just ask me something like that when I'm already emotional about Christmas and our kids growing up."
"Is that a yes?" Azzi asked against Paige's shoulder.
Paige pulled back, and her face was radiant. "That's a yes. That's a hell yes. That's a –” She kissed Azzi, hard and sure. "That's an I love you and I want everything with you and yes, let's have another baby."
Azzi felt something loosen in her chest, something she hadn't realized was tight. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Paige was crying for real now, happy tears that she didn't bother to wipe away. "I want to hold our baby by the fireplace on Christmas morning. I want to watch you be pregnant again. I want –” She laughed. "I want all of it. The chaos and the sleepless nights and the tiny clothes. I want to do it all again with you."
Outside, Elias had apparently won the snowball fight and was doing a victory dance while Noemi pelted him with snow from behind. The dogs were barking, the kids were laughing, and inside, Paige and Azzi were holding each other and crying and planning for the future.
"We should probably tell the kids," Azzi said eventually. "Before we actually start trying."
"We should probably finish our coffee first," Paige countered. "And maybe have a conversation about logistics. And timing. And –” She stopped, shook her head. "Who am I kidding? I don't care about logistics. I just want this. I want you. I want our family."
"You have me," Azzi said softly. "You've had me since I was fifteen years old. You'll have me until we're ninety and sitting on this same couch watching our grandkids play in the snow."
Paige kissed her again, slow and sweet and full of promise. "Grandkids," she murmured. "We're not even done having our own kids and you're already thinking about grandkids."
"I'm thinking about forever," Azzi corrected. "I'm thinking about every Christmas from now until the end of time. I'm thinking about how lucky I am that I get to spend all of them with you."
"Sap," Paige said, but her voice was thick with emotion.
"Your sap," Azzi replied. "Your wife. The mother of your children – plural, soon to be three."
"Three kids," Paige said wonderingly. "We're gonna have three kids."
"We're gonna have three kids, or maybe four," Azzi giggled. She looked out the window at Elias and Noemi, at the life they'd built, at the future they were planning. "And it's gonna be perfect. Chaotic and messy and exhausting, but perfect."
Paige followed her gaze, and when she spoke, her voice was soft. "You know what I think about sometimes? That scared sixteen-year-old in her grandparents' cabin, crying because she loved me and didn't know how to say it. And I think about how far we've come. How we went from hiding in bedrooms to this – to a home and kids and a life we built together. And I think –” She paused, swallowed hard. "I think that girl would be so proud of us. Of who we became. Of what we made."
Azzi's eyes burned. "I think she'd be amazed we pulled it off."
"We did more than pull it off," Paige said. "We thrived. We built something beautiful. And we're not done yet."
"Not even close," Azzi agreed.
They sat there for a long time, wrapped up in each other, watching their children play and planning for the baby that would join them. The fire crackled. The music played. Outside, snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in white.
And inside, Paige and Azzi held each other and dreamed of Christmas mornings to come – of a newborn sleeping in Paige's arms by the fireplace, of Elias and Noemi meeting their new sibling, of their family growing and changing and becoming even more than it already was.
Twenty-one years, and they were still just getting started.
Azzi kissed her wife's forehead and thought, "This is what forever looks like. This is what home feels like. This is what love becomes when you choose it every single day."
A/N: Here’s some fluff as we celebrate and mourn the conclusion of Azzi’s college basketball career. Also, I wrote this in my notes app, and I haven’t proofread it. And I’m getting back into the swing of writing, so please forgive me if this isn’t up to the same standard as other pieces! As always, I hope you love it!! xx Elle
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The hall was silent as Paige waited by the door. CD and the other assistant coaches were the first out of the locker room. An air of exhaustion encompassed them as they walked towards the bus.
Ice, Morgan, Yanna, Caroline, and Gandy were next. They didn’t contribute to the deficit, but the weight of the loss was heavy on their shoulders.
Allie and Ash came out after that. The best friends were huddled together, Allie consoling her teammate who gave her all tonight. They were so focused on each other that they didn’t notice the blonde standing to their left.
Jana and Serah looked five feet tall as they walked towards meet Serah’s family. They pulled the Egyptian into their arms like she was their own.
Blanca came out with her head high, but anyone could see the redness in her eyes and the disappointment that weighed down her frame. Her family had gone back to Ecuador, so she just trudged to the bus on her own.
KK and Kayleigh followed a couple of seconds later. Kayleigh was wrapped in KK’s tight embrace, and Paige’s best friend was being so attentive to her girl that she almost overlooked her.
“Boogers!” KK smiled softly. She unwrapped an arm to pull Paige into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry we couldn’t get it done for her.”
Kamorea‘s words brought a quiet sob out of the girl tucked into her side.
Paige considered telling the point guard it was okay, but she couldn’t bring herself to brush off this loss. “You’re going to learn from this KK. You’re going to lift more than ever. You’re going to put up double the shots you did this year, and count makes, not the attempts. You’re going to watch film on everybody. You’re going to be the leader they need you to be, and you won’t let this happen again.”
KK squared her shoulders as she took the critiques. She knew she hadn’t been the best point guard this year, and she knew she’d put them in bad situations multiple times. “I’ll do the work, P. I’ll be better.”
And Paige knew she would. “I know. And you always got me KK, no matter what.” She said, pulling her into a tight hug. “And you too, Kayleigh.”
When Kelis walked out, it was like someone had snuffed out her light. Since Paige had met her during her first official visit, Kelis Fisher had been a ball of energy. During the Overtime select game, she’d become less star struck, but she was still sunlight personified. But now, she looked like a rainy day. She didn’t even say much to Paige when she came out of the locker room. “Az is still in the shower,” then she walked out to the bus to join her teammates.
The only ones left in the back now were Coach, Sarah, and Azzi.
By the time the national player of the year emerged from the locker room, any anger she’d had was gone, just grief was there now.
Her already red eyes filled with tears as her orbs met Paige’s.
The WNBA player opened her arms and let the girl cry into them. Sarah Strong never really broke down like this - it had only happened once last season when she felt like a loss was her fault.
“Tell her I’m sorry,” she wept. “She bailed us out so many times this season, and I couldn’t do it for her this time, and I just, I’m so sorry.”
Paige shook her head. “You did the best you could. Your shot just wasn’t falling. You’ll be better because of this loss, and I already know Azzi doesn’t blame you.” She pulled back a bit, and cupped Sarah’s shoulders. “You’re still the baby goat, Sarah Strong. One game doesn’t take that away from you.”
The tall girl wiped her tears and nodded with a small smile. “Thanks pops.”
The hallway had emptied out by the time Geno came out. His face said that he was more mad at himself than anything else.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, a comfortable silence filled the space.
Coach broke it with a sigh. “I really thought we could get it done for her,” he sniffed. “She deserved it more than anybody, and I wanted it so bad for her.”
“You always told me it didn’t matter how much you wanted it if we didn’t go out and perform.”
Geno huffed. “You always got something to say.” He looked back at the locker room doors. “You could see every missed shot chipping away at her confidence. And when she came back there after she finished her last presser, she apologized to those guys, like she wasn’t the reason we had a perfect season in the first place.” He pursed his lips as his vision got cloudy. “There was nothing we could say to help her. And I know you’re going to take care of her, I’ve been seeing you do it for six years. But Paige, I really need you to help her this time.”
Geno pulled her into a hug. It wasn’t often that Coach showed a ton of emotion, but she knew how he felt - it was the same way she had felt after the loss to Iowa that ruined Nika and Aaliyah’s senior season.
After Coach walked out, the hall was quiet again.
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When Paige finally opened the door to the locker room, she was met with darkness. And for a second, she thought that maybe someone had snuck Azzi out in the equipment or something.
But then she heard it - the soft pitter patter of water hitting tile.
She kicked off her shoes and tossed her sweater into the locker next to Azzi’s before padded to the shower.
Azzi sat under the stream, knees pulled to her chest, with her chin resting on them. She looked almost catatonic as she looked at the adjacent shower wall. She hadn’t even taken her braids out, and that was what made Paige worry.
Azzi never checked it like this, at least not in public. Normally she was always able to mask it until they got to their dorms or a hotel room. But today, it was like everything had bubbled over, and she couldn’t take it anymore.
Paige rushed back to the locker room, and sent a text to her driver to be waiting at the back entrance. She grabbed a few towels and headed back to the bathroom.
The first towel was placed in front the shower, so that Azzi wouldn’t slip or have her toes be so cold when she walked out.
Paige twisted the knob, stopping the steady stream of water. Azzi blinked as her girlfriend wrapped a towel around her hair.
“Paige?” She asked, confused.
The aforementioned woman stood in front of her, pulling Azzi to her feet. “Yeah, Angel, it’s me.”
Instead of breaking down in tears like Paige thought she was going to do, Azzi just hummed quietly and turned back to zone out again.
Once a towel was wrapped around her shoulders, and another was wrapped around her legs, Paige lifted her and walked her over to her locker.
She was gentle as she unraveled each braid. Her hair would be tomorrow’s problem, and Paige would make sure to wake up early enough to help her with it. Azzi’s skin was ice - her girlfriend tried to rub warmth back into her frame, but it was no use. She’d been sitting under a frigid stream of water for at least half an hour. Clothes were pulled on quickly after that. The plaid pajama pants, that had become a comfort to both of them, were tied around her waist, and the pink, tie dyed jacket was zipped up to her chin.
Paige stood as she pondered how she was going to get Azzi to her car. There were probably six doors they’d have to go through before getting outside, and some were narrower than others. And while Azzi was shorter than her, she was still long.
She nodded to herself as she made her decision.
Seconds later, Azzi’s arms were loosely wrapped around Paige’s neck and her legs bracketed her hips. She walked through the halls quickly, trying to avoid anyone who could see them - azzi was already mortified, someone getting eyes, or worse a camera, on them would make it all even worse.
At the last turn, when the exit door came in view, Azzi’s entire frame started shaking. Paige winced - she knew how this felt. To be so close to the championship and then lose it all. But every time it had happened to Paige, she had another chance, more time. And time was the one thing Azzi didn’t have anymore. She didn’t have enough time to shoot herself out of her slump and win the game for them. She didn’t have time for another year, even though she had only played as much as a junior. She didn’t have time to lead this team anymore. It was all gone.
Paige’s heart broke for Azzi. Tears welled in her eyes as she shifted Azzi’s weight to be able to press a hand to the back of her head.
“I’m so sorry, Az.” Her voice broke.
Paige had seen Azzi in pain on numerous occasions. When she tweaked her ankle during USA basketball tryouts the first time they met. When she tore her ACL during her junior year. When she was hunched over the toilet the night before the championship game her freshman year at UConn. When she tore her ACL again. When Paige yelled at her during an argument, and she vowed to never do it again. She’d seen Azzi’s face crumple in pain a million times, and every time, it felt like someone was taking a knife and piercing her heart.
Azzi moved her head to rest in the crook of Paige’s neck. “I-“ she stuttered. Another quiet sob cut her off.
The blonde moved quicker to the black suv waiting for them. Her bodyguard opened the door, and she slid into the suburban. Paige twisted to put Azzi in the seat next to her, but she tightened her arms around her neck.
Azzi shook her head and breathed. Only ten minutes. A quick ten minute drive back to the hotel, then she could break down as much as she needed.
“Ms. Bueckers, we’re about to get on highway. I advise you to put your seatbelt on.” The chauffeur called from the front.
Paige didn’t reply, just pulled the seatbelt around them both, not willing to try to move Azzi again. The curly haired girl lifted her head from her hiding place. Sure enough, they were merging onto the interstate. “Where are we going?” She mumbled.
“I reserved an Airbnb after the game. I,” she paused. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to want to be with people, and I didn’t want anyone harassing you in the hotel.”
Azzi pulled away a bit, eyes wide. “Paige! There will be fans. They’re gonna be waiting at the hotel. People are gonna talk if I’m not there.”
Blue eyes sharpened. “I don’t care who’s waiting for you at the hotel. I don’t give a fuck what they’re gonna say.” Her tone softened. “You need a night, baby. Just a little bit of time so you can feel everything before you have to go back to making everyone else happy. I promise I’ll get you back to the hotel early tomorrow morning, and you can meet all the fans and hold all the babies you want.”
Azzi smiled to herself. No matter what happened, she knew that Paige would always be there to make sure she was okay. She rested her head back on Paige’s shoulder, content to zone out for the rest of the ride.
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The house Paige chose was secluded, but close enough to downtown to get food delivered. Two cava bowls were waiting outside when they arrived, and Azzi teared up at the forethought that her girlfriend had. Paige was scrambling to put their food in the fridge and their bags in the bedroom.
Azzi was frozen in the doorway.
“I- I just - I don’t understand.” Her voice cracked as tears flooded her eyes. “We were ready, P. Like after practice yesterday, I thought it was gonna be a dog fight, but today?” A sob bubbled up.
Paige stood in front of her. She didn’t try to comfort her. She didn’t try to cheer her up. She knew Azzi needed to get it out, that she needed to break, and that she’d move towards Paige when she was ready to be put back together.
“I can’t believe it. I won’t ever play with Sarah again. Or KK. Or Ash. Or Kyle. Or Blanca. Me and carol will never share a locker room again, Paige. God, and Kelis! I never got to play with Kelis, and that’s all she’s wanted since that camp years ago.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks faster and faster.
Paige clenched her jaw, frustrated that there was nothing she could do to change it for Azzi.
Her girlfriend crouched down, hands covering her face, and sobbed. “I played like shit Paige. I haven’t been able to hit my shots since the Syracuse game. I was supposed to be a leader. I was supposed to lead them to another championship game, but I was fucking awful.”
Paige moved a little closer, not close enough to touch. Her fists balled up with the way she talked about herself.
“I knew it was gonna be bad today too. I woke up, and I was frozen. I was terrified. I couldn’t move for half an hour.” She cried. “Sarah had to give me a pep talk just to get out of bed.”
And Paige knew that. The forward had texted her panicked, and Paige told her exactly what to say. But her words hadn’t done enough, because when Azzi jogged onto the court during warmups, she had that look in her eyes. And that look didn’t even mean she was going to have a bad game, just that she was going to pass more. And she did - she had the most assists out of both teams. But even though her shots weren’t falling, Azzi kept shooting. And that was probably the thing Paige was the most proud of.
Azzi whimpered again. “Did you see Coach?” She whispered. “Did you see what he did? He wouldn’t have done that if I wasn’t playing like shit.”
Paige almost interjected, but she stayed quiet, and let Azzi finish spiraling.
“I’m a shooting guard who can’t shoot.” Azzi gasped, looking up at her love with wide eyes. “Curt and Jose were there, Paige. What if they don’t want me anymore?” She rambled. “They aren’t gonna think I’m good enough to play with you, and I don’t blame them. God what if I have to go to Chicago?” She exclaimed. “I don’t even deserve to play with you anymore. What if I don’t even get drafted.”
Azzi looked up at Paige, eyes puffy, red, and swimming with tears. She crawled forward a bit, and rested her forehead on her girlfriend’s thighs. Paige ran a gentle hand over her braids. Brown eyes fluttered shut as Azzi basked in the comfort of her love. A thumb brushed away the tear rolling down her cheek.
“Azzi,” Paige’s voice was soft, but firm. Her hand came to cup her face gently. “This is not your fault.”
The brunette’s brows furrowed as she went to speak.
Paige moved to grip her chin. “No.” Her tone left no room for confusion. “It was not your fault, Az. I want you to listen to me.”
Azzi nodded stiffly, eyes glassy, but focused on the woman standing before her.
“You are a good leader, Azzi Fudd. You might not lead like me, or D, or Aaliyah, but that’s doesn’t make you a bad leader. I’ve watched you lead them all season. I watched you encourage Ash to shoot, even though she was having a rough season. I’ve seen you lift up Kayleigh’s head when she was down. I’ve seen you bring the girls back in order when they were dramatic on the court. You’ve been leading all year, Az. In your own way. It doesn’t make it different or bad that it’s different. These girls wouldn’t respond to you if you led them in a way that wasn’t authentic to you. You have been exactly who they needed this year, and I know they all love you for it.”
More tears were falling, but Paige couldn’t stop.
“Even though your shot wasn’t falling, you were still making an impact. You had more assists that every player on the court. And you didn’t stop shooting, baby. I’m so proud that you kept going, Az. That confidence is what is going to make you the best shooter the W has ever seen. I know it.” Paige thumbed away a few more tears. “And Coach? You know why he did that, why he always does that. He’d rather take the fire than leave one of his to burn. He did it because he loves you and he wanted eyes off of how the team was playing and on him instead.”
She bent to press a kiss between dark eyebrows.
“And you are Azzi Fudd. You are going to be drafted first. You are going to continue to impress Jose, and Curt, and the entire front office with how perfect of a basketball player you are. You are the best shooter in the world. You’re my shooter, and I know you and me will be the reason we are able to bring championships to Dallas.”
Azzi’s eyes closed again, and a small smile flashed across her face as she envisioned a life playing with her favorite point guard again. They could be the best backcourt in women’s basketball history.
“And one last thing, baby,” Paige called, getting her attention again. “You could finish your entire career not hitting another shot, and there wouldn’t be a second where I am not completely in love with you.”
💔🏀👩🏼❤️💋👩🏽💔🏀👩🏼❤️💋👩🏽💔🏀👩🏼❤️💋👩🏽💔
Paige's final words hung in the air between them, completely in love with you, and Azzi's breath hitched. She was still on her knees, still looking up at Paige with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
"Come here," Paige whispered, pulling Azzi to her feet and guiding her toward the bedroom. "Let me show you."
Azzi followed, pliant and trusting, as Paige sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between her legs. Blue eyes traced over every inch of her girlfriend's face before Paige's hands found the zipper of that pink tie-dyed jacket.
"You're so beautiful," Paige murmured, sliding the fabric off Azzi's shoulders. "My beautiful girl. Say it back to me."
Azzi's breath caught. "I'm- "
"Say it, Az."
"I'm beautiful," Azzi whispered, the words barely audible.
"That's right, baby." Paige pressed a kiss to Azzi's sternum, right over her heart. "Again."
"I'm beautiful." Stronger this time.
The jacket fell to the floor. Azzi wasn't wearing anything underneath, and Paige's breath caught at the sight of her. She pressed another kiss just below Azzi's collarbone, then looked up at her.
"Paige," Azzi's voice was already shaky.
"Shh. Let me take care of you, baby." Paige's hands found the tie of those plaid pajama pants, loosening them until they pooled at Azzi's feet. "Just feel me. Feel how much I love you."
Paige guided Azzi onto the bed, settling her against the pillows before crawling over her. She kissed her slowly, deeply, pouring everything she couldn't say into the press of her lips. Azzi's hands came up to tangle in blonde hair, holding on like Paige was the only solid thing in her world.
"You're the best player I've ever played with," Paige whispered against her mouth. "Say it."
Azzi froze. Her eyes searched Paige's face, looking for doubt, for the lie. "I can't - "
"Yes, you can." Paige's hand cupped her cheek. "Tell me what you are."
"I'm.," Azzi's voice cracked. "I'm the best - " She couldn't finish.
"Keep going, baby. You're doing so good."
"I'm the best player you've- " Azzi's breath hitched, tears already forming. "I can't say it. Not after tonight."
"Especially after tonight." Paige kissed her softly. "Try again."
"I'm the best player you've ever played with," Azzi whispered, the words tumbling out in a rush like she needed to say them before she lost her nerve.
"That's my girl." Paige's lips traveled down Azzi's jaw, her neck, finding that spot just below her ear that made her gasp. "Say it again."
"I'm the best player you've ever played with." Steadier now.
Paige took her time, mapping every inch of skin with her mouth, her hands following the path her lips blazed. She palmed Azzi's breast, thumb brushing over her nipple, and Azzi arched into the touch with a soft whimper.
"Look at you," Paige breathed. "Perfect. You're so fucking perfect, Az."
She lavished attention on Azzi's chest, her ribs, the soft skin of her stomach. Every kiss was deliberate, worshipful. When her hand slid between Azzi's thighs, she paused.
"You belong to me," Paige said, voice low and certain. "And I only accept the best. You know what that means?"
Azzi's breath stuttered as Paige's fingers found her wet and ready. "What?"
"Means you're the best, baby. The absolute best." Paige circled slowly, watching Azzi's face as her eyes fluttered closed. "Best shooter in the world. My shooter. Say it."
"I'm," Azzi whimpered as Paige's fingers pressed more firmly. "I'm the best shooter."
"In the world," Paige finished for her. "Say the whole thing."
"I'm the best shooter in the world." The words came out broken, disbelieving.
"Again."
"I'm the best shooter in the world."
"Good girl." Paige slid two fingers inside, slow and deep, and Azzi's back arched off the bed. "That's it. Let me make you feel good."
She set a steady rhythm, curling her fingers just right, her thumb finding Azzi's clit. Azzi's hands fisted in the sheets, her breathing ragged as Paige worked her higher.
"You're such a good leader, Az," Paige murmured, pressing kisses to her hip, her thigh. "The way you take care of everyone. The way you lift them up. Tell me what kind of leader you are."
Azzi whimpered, her hips rolling to meet Paige's hand. "I don't - "
"Yes, you do. What kind of leader are you?"
"A good one," Azzi gasped.
"That's right. Say it all."
"I'm a good leader." Her voice broke on the last word as Paige added a third finger, stretching her open.
"You are. You're exactly what they needed." Paige lowered her mouth to replace her thumb, and the first swipe of her tongue made Azzi cry out, her hand flying to Paige's hair.
The combination of Paige's fingers inside her and her tongue working her clit was overwhelming. Azzi felt herself climbing higher, faster, her thighs trembling as Paige held her open.
"You're mine," Paige said, voice muffled against her. "All mine. Say it, baby."
"I'm yours," Azzi managed, her voice high and desperate.
"And you're the best thing I've ever had. Say it."
"I'm - oh God, Paige!" Azzi's whole body tensed as she teetered on the edge. "I'm the best thing you've ever had."
"That's my girl."
Azzi shattered, her first orgasm crashing over her in waves as she cried out Paige's name. But Paige didn't stop. She worked her through it, drawing it out until Azzi was shaking, oversensitive and gasping.
"Too much," Azzi whimpered.
"You can take it." Paige gentled her touch but didn't withdraw. "You're so strong, Az. Tell me how strong you are."
"I can't," Azzi whined, eyes filled with tears, not from pain but from the sheer intensity of being loved like this, worshipped like this.
"Yes, you can. How strong are you?"
"I'm strong," Azzi whispered.
"Louder."
"I'm strong." Her voice cracked.
Paige's fingers curled inside her again, finding that spot that made her see stars, and her tongue was relentless. "You're everything to me. Everything, Az. On the court and off. Say it back."
Azzi's breath hitched. This was the big one. The confession that felt too heavy, too important. "I'm - I'm everything."
"Keep going, baby. You're doing so good."
"I'm everything you need." The words came out stuttered, broken. "On the court and - and off."
"Say it again."
"I'm everything you need on the court and off the court." Azzi sobbed as she said it, the weight of the affirmation crashing into her at the same time Paige's touch pushed her higher.
"That's right. You are. You're everything." Paige worked her faster now, relentless. "Come for me again, baby. Show me how good you feel."
The second orgasm hit harder than the first, tearing through Azzi with such force that she couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She came apart completely, tears streaming down her face as Paige praised her through it.
"So beautiful. Look at you. Taking everything I give you."
Paige slowed but didn't stop, keeping Azzi right on that edge between too much and not enough. She pressed soft kisses to Azzi's inner thighs, her hip bones, anywhere she could reach.
"You know what else you are?" Paige asked, her voice soft.
Azzi could barely form words. "What?"
"You're going to Dallas. You're going to play with me for years. Tell me where you're going."
"I'm," Azzi's voice broke. "I'm going to Dallas."
"And what are you going to do there?"
"I'm going to play with you." Fresh tears spilled over. "For years."
"That's my girl. Say it all together."
"I'm going to Dallas and I'm going to play with you for years." Azzi's whole body trembled as she said it, the future suddenly feeling real and possible instead of terrifying.
"Good girl. So good for me." Paige's fingers moved again, building her back up. "One more thing, baby. The most important thing."
"What?" Azzi gasped.
"You're loved. Completely, unconditionally loved. No matter what happens on any court, ever. Say it."
This was the hardest one. Azzi's breath came in short, sharp gasps as Paige worked her toward another peak. "I - I am loved."
"More."
"I'm completely loved." She was crying openly now, overwhelmed by sensation and emotion.
"All of it, Az. Say all of it."
"I'm completely and unconditionally loved no matter what happens on any court ever." The words tumbled out in a rush, and as soon as they left her lips, Paige's touch became purposeful, demanding.
"That's right. You are. Come for me, baby. Let me feel how much you believe it."
The third orgasm rolled through her like a wave, slower but deeper, pulling her under. Azzi sobbed through it, her whole body shaking as Paige gentled her touch, drawing it out until Azzi was boneless and spent.
But Paige still didn't stop. She withdrew her fingers only to replace them with her tongue, licking into Azzi with long, slow strokes that made her whimper.
"Paige, I can't - "
"You can. You're going to give me two more, baby. Can you do that for me? For your 5?"
Azzi nodded, unable to form words. She was so sensitive, every nerve ending on fire, but she trusted Paige completely.
"Tell me what you are again," Paige murmured between strokes. "The best what?"
"The best player you've ever played with," Azzi gasped, the words coming easier now, like her body was learning to believe them.
"And the best what else?"
"The best shooter in the world."
"That's my girl." Paige's tongue circled her clit, and Azzi's hips bucked involuntarily. "What else are you?"
"Everything you need." No hesitation this time. "On and off the court."
"Yes, you are." Paige slid three fingers back inside, and Azzi cried out at the stretch. "You're taking me so well. Tell me how good you are for me."
"I'm so good for you," Azzi whimpered. "I'm so good!"
"You are. You're perfect." Paige's fingers curled, her tongue working in tandem, and Azzi felt herself climbing again impossibly fast. "Come for me, baby. Number four. Show me."
This orgasm was sharper, almost painful in its intensity. Azzi screamed Paige's name, her hands fisting in blonde hair as her whole body convulsed. The tears wouldn't stop, pouring down her face as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.
"One more," Paige whispered, her voice reverent. "Just one more, Az. You're doing so good. So fucking good for me."
Azzi was sobbing now, completely overwhelmed, but she nodded. She'd give Paige anything. Everything.
Paige pulled back, and Azzi whimpered at the loss. But then she watched through tear-blurred eyes as Paige sat up and stripped off her shirt, her sports bra, her jeans and underwear, everything, until she was bare. The sight of her girlfriend's body, strong and beautiful in the dim light, made Azzi's breath catch.
"I need to feel you," Paige said softly, settling between Azzi's thighs. "All of you. Need you to feel me."
She positioned herself so their hips aligned, lowering down until their bodies pressed together, skin to skin. The first touch of Paige's center against hers made them both gasp.
"Paige - " Azzi's hands flew to her girlfriend's hips, gripping tight.
"I got you." Paige began to move, a slow grind that had them both trembling. "We're doing this together, baby. Just us."
Azzi rolled her hips up to meet her, and the friction was overwhelming. She could feel everything. Paige's heat, her wetness, the way their bodies fit together like they were made for this.
"I love you," Azzi gasped out, her voice breaking. "God, Paige, I love you so much."
"I love you too." Paige's rhythm increased slightly, her breath coming faster. "So much, Az. So fucking much."
"I - I belong to you. And you belong to me," Azzi said, the words tumbling out between moans. "We belong - forever, P. You and me, we're forever."
"Yes." Paige's hips stuttered, and Azzi could tell she was getting close too. "Forever, baby. You're my everything."
"Fuck, I love you so much," Azzi sobbed, her hands sliding up Paige's back, pulling her closer. "You're everything. You're my whole world, Paige. I can't - I can't do any of this without you."
"You'll never have to." Paige's forehead dropped to Azzi's, their breath mingling as they moved together. "I'm right here. Always right here."
The pressure was building impossibly high, different from the others, deeper, more complete. Azzi could feel it in every nerve ending, could feel Paige trembling above her, could feel how close they both were.
"Come with me," Paige whispered against her lips. "Please, Az. Need to feel you come with me."
"I'm so close," Azzi whimpered. "So close, Paige."
"I know. I can feel it." Paige's movements became more purposeful, grinding down harder. "Let go for me. We'll go together."
Azzi's whole body tensed, every muscle coiling tight. "Paige! I love you, so much, always. Please - you're everything!"
"Yes, Az. Good girl baby – fuck!" Paige cursed.
The orgasm hit them almost simultaneously. Azzi came apart completely, her body convulsing as she squirted between them, the intensity so overwhelming she couldn't even scream. Above her, Paige cried out her name, her hips jerking as she came too, and they rode it out together, trembling, gasping, completely lost in each other.
Azzi was still crying, but these tears were different. They were release, relief, the overwhelming emotion of being so completely loved and loving someone so completely in return. She felt Paige shaking above her, felt the wetness between them, felt the way their hearts raced in tandem.
Azzi buried her face in Paige's neck, clinging to her as the tears subsided. She felt wrung out, emptied of everything, the grief, the self-doubt, the fear. All that was left was this: Paige's arms around her, Paige's heartbeat steady against her cheek, Paige's love surrounding her like armor.
"I love you," Azzi whispered, her voice hoarse.
"I love you too." Paige pressed a kiss to her forehead. "So much, Az. So fucking much."
They stayed like that, tangled together, until Azzi's breathing evened out and her body went heavy with exhaustion. Paige pulled the blanket over them both, still holding her close.
"Sleep, baby," Paige whispered. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
And Azzi did, finally surrendering to the kind of deep, dreamless sleep that only came after being completely, utterly loved.
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Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, painting the bedroom in soft gold.
Paige had been awake for an hour, watching the sun climb higher, watching the way it moved across Azzi's face. Her girlfriend was still curled into her side, one hand fisted in Paige's shirt like she was afraid to let go even in sleep. Both of them were naked beneath the blanket, skin warm and intertwined.
The exhaustion had claimed her quickly. Azzi's body gave out after the intensity of it all, after being so completely loved and worshipped. Paige had held her through the aftermath, pressing soft kisses to her forehead until her breathing deepened and sleep took her.
Now, Azzi's breathing was even. Steady. The kind of deep sleep that came after complete submission.
Paige traced gentle patterns on her shoulder, careful not to wake her. But then brown eyes fluttered open, squinting against the light. For a moment, Azzi looked confused, like she'd forgotten where she was, what had happened. Then her gaze found Paige's face, and something settled.
"Hey," Azzi whispered, her voice raw from the intensity of the night.
"Hey, baby." Paige brushed a curl away from her forehead. "How'd you sleep?"
Azzi was quiet for a long moment, taking inventory of herself. The grief was still there—Paige could see it in the way her jaw tightened, the way her eyes went distant for a second. But she wasn't drowning in it anymore.
"I slept," Azzi said finally. She shifted, pressing closer into Paige's warmth. Not hiding this time. Just seeking comfort. "What time is it?"
"Almost eight. We got time before we ngotta head back."
Azzi nodded against her chest. Then, so quietly Paige almost missed it.
"Will you help me with my hair?"
And there it was. The smallest step forward. Not acceptance, not healing, just the willingness to move into the next moment. To do the next thing.
Paige pressed a kiss to her temple. "Yeah, Az. I got you."
Azzi's hand loosened its grip on Paige's shirt, fingers spreading flat against her ribs instead. Holding on, but not desperately. Not like she was drowning.
cw: broke pb (no shade), pb having to kiss men this chapter (sorry i kept it as brief as i could), just paige feeling uncomfortable in general, no azzi this chapter but pazzi meet in the next, pb having to present as fem, other typical shit you'd expect from a lesbian on a straight dating show
wc: 3.4k
summary: desperate to pay off her debt, paige applies to love island, attempting to scam her way to the prize money, but unexpectedly falls for her castmate azzi fudd.
read on ao3 | masterlist
Paige’s life became hell the night of Rickea’s birthday; and like all horror stories begin, she had gotten absolutely plastered and blacked out. Waking up, the next day, with a pounding headache and the need to immediately throw up, though she still couldn’t bring herself to, even when she pulled trig.
She’d gone about her morning as productively as she could—by finishing up the lesson plans she’d been procrastinating—while nursing a raging hangover, before she’d gotten a text from her bank, alerting her that she’d withdrawn 20 grand from her savings account. And as if it was a trigger, the once lost memories of the previous night had came to her.
In flashes, she saw herself get in a heated debate over March Madness with a random—who was dogging on the UConn’s women’s basketball team—at the club. She was arguing that they’d win it all, and she vaguely recounted the man taunting her to bet on it if she was so sure, and after that still nothing.
To say she broke down after was an understatement, she had argued with at least 10 different workers who had let her know that they didn’t offer refunds. And when disputing the charge through her bank hadn’t worked, she immediately began planning on how to get the money back. She’d lost a third of her yearly salary from bar tending and teaching; she didn’t even work at a public school—the small private one that employed her, essentially paid her pennies. All she could do was pray that her team won and picked up odd jobs on the side to make up for the potential loss.
And following the supposed trend, her bad luck prevailed, leaving her practically sobbing to her friends one night on her shift. “I swear to fucking God,I’m never even gonna think of taking a sip of alcohol again.”
“I highly doubt that,” Rickea muttered under her breath.
“Hey, not too much on her,” Dijonai rebuffed reaching over the bar too comfort Paige.
“No I’m a dumb ass, I deserve it,” she moped, her sullen voice barely audible over the loud ambiance and music in the bar.
“Okay hold on now, I ain’t say allat!” Rickea stood up, “Bitch I just got a great idea, you gotta go one some reality TV show typa thing. One with prize money, and win!”
“Kea please be serious, this is serious.” Paige exasperated while wiping glasses dry. “Plus, I’m not gonna make it on some bullshit like Survivor or whatever. They wouldn’t even cast me in the first place.”
“I’m not talking about Survivor, cause you wouldn’t survive shit. But you could hold your own on something like Big Brother, and it’s 750k for the winner.”
“750k?” Dijonai and Paige gasped, mouths agape.
“Wait that’s insane,” Paige muttered, already making calculations in her head as Dijonai whipped out her phone to do more research.
“Yup, and it starts during the summer too so you could still apply for this year!”
“But Kea she’d be completely cut off from the rest of the world for 3 months. And P is not good at lying or manipulation, her face gets all red and shit.”
Paige sagged at her worlds, “Yeah, super hello no. Look guys, I appreciate all your ideas, but don’t let my bullshit ruin your night. For real, I’ll figure it out.” Before her friends could give a rebuttal, she went to tend to other costumers who had approached the bar.
Later when she made her way back to them, they ordered more shots. “Okay, so I’mma genius,” Dijonai slurred a bit, clapping her hands to the beat of the bass. “You should go on Love Island! It’s only six weeks, and if you win, you get 100k. Even if you don’t, you leave famous as fuck, like actually bro.”
Rickea cackled, “Yeah? And how long would her gay ass last on that shit. Paige not fooling nobody, she don’t even wear lip gloss boo.”
“The fuck?” Paige interjected, slapping her towel on the counter, “I used to give these straight white girls a run for their money back in high school. I can tap back into fem PB, yup,” She nodded along to her own words.
“So, you’re willing to be isolated without your phone, on an island where you have to make out with and date men for half a summer?”
“Kea, for a 100k, I’d do way worse than that.”
Within the next week after that shift, she’d sent in her application, her two friends had given her a “baddie makeover”, doing her make up, styling her with their own clothes, and taking her casting photos for her. The whole day had been fun, filled with laughter and them goofing off; she’d thanked her friends profusely after—since in the back of her mind, this was all for naught.
A month later, she’d come home early in the morning after a long shift at the bar—her hours had increased since the school year was over—and she was utterly exhausted.
She was blearily fixing herself a frozen meal, too lazy to fix up a quick sandwich. While she was waiting for her microwave to beep, she was sleepily sifting through her emails when she saw something that immediately gave her a second wind.
“Congratulations, Ms. Paige Bueckers! We’re ecstatic to invite you to join Love Island USA’s cast of season 8.”
Paige stared at the email for a full minute, rapidly blinking as though that would change the text on her screen.
“…Oh, fuck me.”
The cheers of encouragement from the other Casa girls, and the yell from the producer telling her to go, was the last thing Paige heard as her mind went blank, and she made her way over to the fire pit where the rest of the boys were enthusiastically waiting. She strutted over to the low quiet beat being played over the villa speaker, which the producers had explained was only there for timing. Her heart was racing and she felt a crushing sense of anxiety, so heavy it could knock her down.
But she went through the motions, which was simple enough since she’d religiously practiced this routine for the past 12 hours, since she’d been briefed on the challenge in the hotel room they held her in.
Adrenaline pumping, she twirled, “I heard that some of y’all were sick of your time in the villa and needed me to check up on y’all!”
She internally sighed with relief from the roar of response she got from the men. The corny pick up line was something she had to come up with about 20 minutes ago, when they presented her with a nurse costume.
Paige was in the most raunchiest costume she’d ever worn, they even managed to give her cleavage with the little amount of breasts she had. She’d never even worn a thong before, let alone a mini skirt that had her whole front and back out for the world to see. She took out a thermometer from the pocket of her skirt, cringing as she seductively sucked on it, as she teasingly dropped to the floor how Rickea taught her, trying not to lose her balance in the platforms they put her in. And when she got up, she went in and kissed the first boy on the edge of the couch.
She doesn’t now how she made it through her turn without completely embarrassing herself on national television. She grinded on them, shook her ass to the best of her ability, threw out her most cliché sexy nurse lines, sucked and licked them and sucked and licked them some more.
When she was finally done with all of them she called out with the brightest smile, “My name’s Paige, make sure to stop by later and leave a 5 star review!” The boys thundered, the most enthusiastic ones being Caleb and Sincere.
She made her way over to where the other girls who had already gone, lightly tapping her forehead to try and dry up the sheen of sweat she worked up. She was also internally panicking, she had just done that in front of the whole nation essentially; her parents were going to see this, hell, even her bosses might.
“Girl you fucking ate that!” Sydney exclaimed with, Amora vehemently agreeing with her.
Trying her best to match their high energy, she beamed. “For real? I’m not even gonna lie, I blacked the fuck out, I’ve never done no shit like this before.”
The girl’s reassured her that her set was fire, and she made sure to praise them back as well, resisting her urge to man spread, she awkwardly crossed her legs like the rest of them. She was all too aware of the cameras around them, the itchy feeling of the fuzzy mic on her sweaty neck, and still in shock that no one’s found out that she’s the gayest girl in the fucking world.
She severely underestimated how hard it would be to straight bait—since she used to give the other straight white girls a run for their money her first two years of high school. And of course, she knew about the raunchy challenges but the producers really threw her out into the ocean without a life jacket, with this being their entrance into Casa Amor.
And in the moment she felt unbelievably grateful to Dijonai and Rickea for teaching her how to twerk and dance; like the geniuses they were, the upcoming weeks before she entered the villa, they gave her a whole damn fem-class.
When the challenge was finally over, Paige felt dread, her attempts to join in with the girls conversing was half hearted. The producers had now advised them all to start mingling. And in the corner of her eye she could see Sincere, unsurprisingly, making a bee-line for her—when it had been the boys turn to dance on them, he had been the one to show the most interest, taking her to the front of the fire pit and gave her a special dance with an excessive amount of kisses and ass grabbing.
“Hey Paige, could I pull you for a chat?” He held out his hand she grabbed it, helping her up off the couch.
She counted to three before forcing out a charming smile. “Of course player,” She winked, “I was hoping you would.”
“Oh really?” She would say she could hear the smile in his voice, if she wasn’t looking at it herself, noticing the some what appealing wrinkles next to his eyes. At least he’s not the ugliest guy in here, she thought.
“Mhm.” She hummed, and then finessed her way through the most uneasy conversation of her life. Sincere made sure that they sat close to each other, him already getting incredibly comfortable and rubbing her thigh. Goosebumps formed on her skin from every nerve in her leg screaming at her to move it.
“You cold in Fiji?” He asked giggling out.
She matched his playful temperament, “Hey! You’re not the one in skimpiest outfit ever.”
“It’s not gonna do much but here,” He pulled off his vest, laying it across her.
“You’re so sweet,” she murmured, holding his gaze, until he leaned in for a kiss. She almost flinched away, but dialed in and kissed him back passionately, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his facial hair. She ran her fingers through his long hair, trying to stimulate the feeling of kissing a girl. It didn’t work.
When their kiss broke he groaned, “I’m so fucked.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” she said cheekily, jutting her chin out. The man happily sighed out, rubbing circles on her arm.
“So…Would you want to share a bed with me tonight?”
“I’d love to.”
Sincere kept her mainly occupied for the rest of the evening, unknowingly stopping her from exploring Caleb, who she’d originally had her eye on. During the previous weeks she was kept in her hotel before coming, the producers had instructed her to watch the former episodes to catch up, and especially to study the male islanders that they’d go for in Casa.
Caleb had seemed simple enough to deal with, she was certain his type was blondes, and that he was definitely more of a gentleman than the man she was currently lying with. Surprisingly, she was lucky tonight, and Sincere was quick to fall asleep. She had popped a melatonin gummy, and had her sleeping mask on, but she wished they allowed them headphones, it was very strange to have to listen to the soft moans and wet kisses coming the other beds.
As she tried to drift off, she weighed her options, Caleb already seemed to be set on Jaiden after Corbin had taken Parmida from him. She didn’t know if she could compete with her, and she didn’t want to put Sincere off of her, since she seemed to be the only person he was strongly interested in here. But he had Azzi waiting for him back home, and with how loyal the girl has been to him so far, she didn’t see her re-coupling with a casa boy. Paige hoped she would though, not only for selfish reasons, but because she was too sweet for him.
But would Sincere bring her back? He’s easy enough and gets distracted with any pretty girl in his face, but she needs to apply pressure.
Caleb had expressed interest in her in the heart rate challenge, she being one of the the girls he lingered on but had made no move to talk to her after. She came to the conclusion that maybe he was discouraged by her spending so long with Sincere, so she decided that next day she’d maybe try and discreetly pull him, so Sincere wouldn’t feel a certain way. And as if he knew she was thinking of him, the man shuffled around before sleepily wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer. So Paige began counting sheep to make her gummy kick in quicker.
The next couple days were a draining whirlwind, she had been living of less than 5 hours of sleep each night, and Sincere’s god awful breakfast. One of the girls had opted to leave, Ally was her name, maybe. And she was damn near over all of this by the temperature challenge, which had her licking and being licked by Sincere; she doesn’t think she’s ever been so unaroused before. She had also pursued Caleb, before being completely put off by his cringe teenage boy humor. At least with Sincere, it was like talking to her homeboy—since they shared many interests, particularly their love for sports and Criminal Minds—except, she had to be more intimate with him.
Not to mention she had also become Bryce’s part time therapist. After the second time she saw him by the balcony, staring longingly out to the main villa, she had to ask the man if he was alright. It was touching when he went on a whole speech basically professing his love (he avoided using that word) for Trinity; though she felt much concern when he kept mentioning death. So, she went out of her way to give him many reassurances, confirming that his villa partner felt just as deeply as him, based on what she’d seen in the previous episodes.
Now, it was at last the final day of Casa, Paige had felt so much relief when one of the boys had announced the text they’d gotten of a re-coupling happening tonight. At this point, she wanted to be over with Casa, even if she went home, she’d be able to take it on the chin. The heat in Fiji was something else, her pale self already rocking a bit of a tan. And then the nights were chilly, which is hard to deal with in skimpy outfits and dresses, and production keeping them outside till late, to film different challenges or chats.
And now she was in the gossipy makeup room, carefully applying her makeup as Dijonai had coached her back at home. These past couple of days she had been sporting a more simple daily look, concealing the areas that needed it, applying mascara, and a simple lip combo.
But tonight, she needed to go all out, she was already in a deep blue (Sincere’s favorite color) slit dress, with boob tape to enunciate her cleavage. With her hair rollers already in, she was doing a full beat, mentally repeating the steps her friend had given her, and it was coming along decently. Her focus didn’t even allow her to join in with the other girl’s chatter, she probably wouldn’t have much input anyway. As she precisely lined her eyes, she thought about how she hadn’t gotten along with most of her casa girls that well. The only ones she meshed with were Amora and Sydney, and still, she didn’t enjoy being around them for too long.
She was finishing up her hair, when one of the producers came in to give them a five minute warning. She quickly did some finishing touches, impressed by the final outcome. Her and the girls came in together for one last hurrah, and then made their way out to the fire pit.
The producers arranged them in front of the fire, each girl across from the boy they’d been pursuing. Paige stood with her legs crossed, staring into the bright flames; Sincere has been avoiding making eye contact with her and she knew what that meant.
Best case scenario, she could someone how use the clout from this to become C-list influencer on the side, and do any and every brand deal that comes her way. Sincere and Azzi got a huge amount of screen time, and since she was now an “obstacle” in their love story, she’s sure she’s been one of the main focuses in these Casa episodes as well.
She was of course, irritated by the other man’s offhandedness, she had practically debased herself on national television—going out of her way to take on this persona of a blonde vixen. She even went as far as to praise him for not being intimidated that she was slightly taller than him, along with other clichés she researched that straight men love to hear.
Her nerves over took her more and more as they progressed down the line, because of course she was at the end. Corbin brought back Parminda, Caleb coupled up with Jaiden; Byrce and Zach decided to stay loyal to their couples, it was just her and Sincere left. He stood up from the crescent sofa, and turned to her, finally meeting her eyes for the first time all night. Once given the go by the producers, he finally gave out his verdict, along with a monologue, of course.
“I really wanted to emerge myself into this Casa experience,” the educator side of Paige couldn’t help but judge his misuse of the word emerge.
“And I’m really grateful for you Paige, for allowing that to come true for me. My time with you Paige was so effortless, and you’re so chill and funny, oh and beautiul. I loved being with someone who could take a joke, and I mean, we’re both really into Sports, though you being a Vikings fan is criminal,” Paige let out an appropriately timed giggle despite not being amused.
“And, I really do think if we had enough time, you’d…you would’ve been the one for me,” Sincere let out with a sigh. “Which is why, I’ve decided to re-couple with Paige and bring her back.”
The roller coaster of emotions she went through these past 10 minutes can’t have been good for her heart, she tried her best to control the tremor in her hands as she made her way over to him with a radiant smile. The rest of the boys and girls clapped and cheered, as they embraced and shared a lingering kiss.
The producers allowed them to say their final farewells to the girls who had not been chosen. Quickly after, they were all rushed to the dock—with their luggage they had packed before the re-coupling—to board the boat, having to quickly make their journey to the other island.
They were finally situated on the boat, Paige wearing his jacket as he held her. “How do you think it’s gonna go in there? You think Azzi ain’t find someone in there?”
Sincere was quiet for a second before lightly kissing her shoulder, “I hope she brought back that guy she was all cuddled up with in that photo, or else it finna get real fucking messy.”
Chapter eleven: If I write your name down enough times, maybe the universe will remember you are missing.
Catholic!paige x rebellious!Azzi, catholic boarding school au
Warnings: angst, homophobia, psychological abuse, panic attacks, mentions of an eating disorder, depression, anxiety, non-consensual use of prescription drugs
A/n: another incredibly painful chapter, I’m sorry you guys ☹️ I really do love yall though and I promise only two more chapters of heartbreak until book two! Lmk what you think! 🩷
Word count: 12k
Azzi was practically vibrating with nervous energy as her family's car pulled into the gated driveway of St. Mary’s Boarding School for Catholic Girls.
Things with her parents were actually in a really good place; they had been warm and closer to her than ever. As they unpacked the last of her stuff in the courtyard, Azzi threw her arms around her mom and dad, giving the hugs goodbye.
"I love you guys, see you in a few months," she beamed, practically running up the steps on the way to their room the second they pulled away.
Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but for the best possible reason. She couldn't wait to see Paige. She couldn't wait to begin their senior year together.
But when Azzi unlocked the door to their shared room, the space was completely quiet. One side of the room; her side, was ready to be unpacked. The other side was completely bare. No bags, no uniforms, no sketchbooks.
Azzi blinked, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips as she tossed some stuff onto her desk. "Ugh," she muttered to herself, assuming Paige's summer shifts at home had run late or traffic was holding her up. "You're running behind, P."
She started unpacking her things, humming to herself, keeping one eye on the door.
But one hour passed. Then two. The afternoon sun began to dip, casting long, orange shadows through the high windows across the empty half of the room. The silence in the dorm grew heavier, stretching out until a cold knot of anxiety began to form in Azzi's stomach. Unable to sit still any longer, Azzi bolted out of the room and hurried down the echoing, stone corridors to the main administrative building.
Sister Margaret sat behind the oak desk, sorting through registration files. Azzi stepped up to the counter, her hands gripping the dark wood tightly.
"Hi, Sister, excuse me," Azzi said, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to sound casual. "I'm a senior in Room 535. My roommate's name is Paige Bueckers, and she didn't show up today. I was just wondering if she's arriving a day late, or... or maybe she got accidentally moved to a different room assignment this year?"
The nun stopped sorting the papers. She looked up, her expression shifting into a grave, tightly controlled mask of solemnity. She adjusted her glasses, looking at Azzi with a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry, dear," Sister Margaret said softly, her voice flat. "But Paige Bueckers is no longer with us."
The words hit the air like ice water. Azzi froze, the room suddenly spinning around her as the oxygen felt completely sucked out of the space. Her face went entirely pale, and she shook her head frantically, horror seizing her chest.
"What?" Azzi gasped, a terrifying, breathless sob catching in her throat. She stepped closer, her eyes wide. "What do you mean no longer with us?! What does that mean?! What happened to her?!"
Tears instantly spilled over her eyelashes, tracking furiously down her cheeks. She was trembling from head to toe.
Sister Margaret sighed heavily, looking troubled by the lack of information herself. "We don't know. When we called her home last week to confirm her enrollment, her parents were completely evasive. They refused to give us any details. They explicitly told the administration that Paige is no longer around and withdrew her from St. Mary's effective immediately. They wouldn't tell us where she went, they wouldn't answer any questions about her well-being, and they refused to provide a forwarding address."
The ambiguity of the words made the world fracture into a million jagged pieces. Paige loved it here. Paige loved her. She would never just walk away.
"No... no, that doesn't make sense," Azzi sobbed, collapsing onto her knees right there on the floor, burying her face in her hands.
The tears leaked through her fingers as a devastating realization began to dawn on her; something terrible had happened to Paige, and she had absolutely no way to find her.
Sister Margaret looked down over the high wooden desk, her stern expression softening into one of genuine pity as she watched Azzi break down.
"I am so incredibly sorry for your loss," the nun said gently, her voice echoing softly in the quiet office. She adjusted her habit and leaned forward. "Is there someone on campus we can call for you? Someone who could come get you and help you back to your room?"
Azzi could barely breathe but she managed to choke out a single name. "Ines... Ines Bettencourt."
"Alright. Just stay right there, dear." Sister Margaret picked up the desk phone, dialing the senior dormitory office to track down the student.
About five minutes passed, minutes that felt like agonizing, endless hours to Azzi as she sat curled on the floor, her shoulders shaking violently as she wept. Then the doors of the administration office suddenly swung open, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed across the room.
"Sister Margaret? You called for me—" Ines stopped dead in her tracks, her brow furrowing in deep confusion. "Azzi?"
Ines rushed forward, immediately dropping to her knees on the floor beside her. She looked from Azzi’s tear-streaked face up to the grave expression on the nun's face, completely bewildered. "Azzi, what’s wrong? What happened?"
Azzi couldn't even form words. A strangled, breathless sob was the only sound she could make as she buried her face into Ines’s shoulder, her fingers gripping the fabric of her friend's shirt like a lifeline.
"Let's get her back to her room," Sister Margaret instructed softly, wrapping her arms around her clipboard. "She received some upsetting news."
"Okay... okay, come on, Azzi," Ines murmured, her voice laced with deep concern. She carefully hooked her arms under Azzi's shoulders, taking most of her weight as she hoisted her up from the floor. Azzi’s knees were practically turning to jelly, her body trembling so violently she could barely walk.
Ines guided her slowly out of the office and down the long, stone corridors of St. Mary's. The walk back to her room felt like a blur. Other girls passing by in the hallway stared, whispering in hushed tones at the sight of one of the seniors completely falling apart, but Ines aggressively shot them warning glares.
The moment they crossed the threshold of the room, Ines shut the door behind them, cutting off the rest of the school.
Azzi completely collapsed onto her bed, burying her face into her pillow as a barrage of raw, guttural cries tore from her throat. She was entirely inconsolable.
"Azzi, please talk to me, you're terrifying me," Ines begged, sitting on the edge of the mattress and placing a grounding hand on Azzi’s shaking back. "What happened? Did someone get hurt?"
Azzi tried to speak, but she was completely incoherent. Between her frantic, hyperventilating gasps, the words came out tangled and broken.
"She's... she's not... P-Paige... the nun said... her parents... gone..." Azzi choked out, her voice cracking into a high-pitched whimper. She pulled her knees up to her chest, rocking herself frantically on the mattress, her mind completely shattered by the sudden, terrifying void where her girl used to be.
"Azzi, wait—what about Paige?" Ines asked, her voice cracking as she shook Azzi’s shoulder gently, trying to ground her. "What do you mean gone? Did she get into an accident? What did Sister Margaret say?"
Azzi could barely look up from the pillow, her face completely flushed and soaked in tears. Her chest heaved so violently she could barely catch her breath.
"She’s... she’s gone," Azzi choked out, a raw, agonizing sob tearing through her throat. "Her parents withdrew her... they won't tell anyone where she is... she's just gone..."
The sheer weight of the despair was too much, and Azzi collapsed sideways against Ines, burying her face into her friend's lap, weeping so intensely her entire body shook.
Ines immediately wrapped her arms around Azzi, pulling her tight. Tears pricked her own eyes at the ambiguous news about Paige, but she focused on holding Azzi together, rocking her back and forth on the twin bed. "Oh my god... no. No, that can't be true. Paige wouldn't... there has to be a mistake, Azzi. Shh, just breathe, I've got you."
But Azzi was completely past the point of rational thought. "How could this happen?" Azzi wailed into the quiet room, her voice breaking into a high-pitched, desperate whimper as she clutched at Ines's shirt. "How could this happen to my baby? Why would they take her away? I need her, Ines... she was supposed to be here with me..."
Ines froze, her rocking motion faltering for a split second. Her brow furrowed in complete confusion through her own grief. My baby? She knew Azzi and Paige were best friends and roommates, but hearing Azzi use that specific, deeply intimate word sent a shock through her. She looked down at the top of Azzi's head, completely bewildered by the phrasing, but as Azzi continued to sob uncontrollably, Ines pushed the confusion aside for now.
Azzi’s breathing suddenly shifted from sobbing to sharp, desperate gasps. Her hands flew to her throat, her fingers clawing weakly at her collar as her chest heaved but no oxygen seemed to go in. Her eyes rolled back slightly, wide with a blind, terrifying panic, completely untethered from the room.
"Azzi! Hey, look at me, breathe!" Ines panicked, instantly recognizing the signs of a panic attack. She grabbed Azzi by the shoulders, trying to force her to lock eyes, but Azzi was completely gone.
"I can't... she's... they killed her... she's gone..." Azzi managed out, her hands shaking violently as she began to hyperventilate, her skin turning dangerously pale. The physical pain of the shock was overriding her brain.
"No, Azzi, listen to my voice! Paige is not dead!" Ines yelled, desperately trying to convince Azzi; and the terrifyingly loud doubt in her own heart, that it was true. Tears streamed down Ines’s face as she squeezed Azzi tight, pulling her head flat against her chest so she could hear her heartbeat. "Sister Margaret literally said they didn't know anything! She is not dead, do you hear me?! Paige is alive!"
But Azzi couldn't hear her. The grief was too loud, too heavy, too violent. She was completely exhausted from the trauma, rocking back and forth in Ines's arms, letting out small, broken whimpers as her mind twisted the nun’s vague words. To Azzi, a world where Paige was missing and unreachable felt exactly like death, and the agony of it was completely breaking her apart.
With a sudden, frantic burst of energy, Azzi ripped herself out of Ines's grip and scrambled off the mattress. Her knees hit the hard floor with a dull thud, but she barely seemed to feel it as she crawled desperately toward the empty half of the room.
She threw herself down by the side of Paige’s bare bed, her hands tearing at the dusty space underneath the frame until they hit cardboard. It was the single, forgotten storage box Paige had left behind in the spring, filled with things she hadn't needed to bring home for the summer.
Azzi yanked the cardboard flaps open, her breath coming in ragged, suffocating hitches. Right on top was one of Paige’s oversized black hoodies.
Azzi snatched it out of the box, burying her face directly into the fabric. It still faintly carried the scent of laundry detergent and the familiar, comforting trace of Paige. A raw, gut-wrenching sob tore from Azzi’s throat as she clutched the hoodie to her chest.
"P... please, P... come back," Azzi mumbled into the fabric, her voice a fractured, desperate whisper. She kept pressing her face into the hood, spilling out a frantic, incoherent stream of words. Ines couldn't make out most of it, just broken fragments of "the nightgowns," "the apartment," and "you promised, baby, you promised."
Ines quickly slid off the bed, dropping to her knees on the floor right beside her. The sight of Azzi completely unraveled, clinging to a piece of clothing like a lifeline, broke her heart.
"Azzi, please, come here," Ines begged softly, wrapping her arms around Azzi’s shaking shoulders from behind, trying to pull her back into reality. "Shh, just hold onto the hoodie, but you need to breathe. Just try to breathe for me. I'm right here. We're going to figure this out, I promise you. Just calm down, Azzi... please."
But Azzi just held onto the fabric tighter, crying until her voice went entirely hoarse.
—
The door to Room 535 rattled with a soft, hesitant knock before swinging open. A sister stepped in quietly, her hands folded neatly inside the long sleeves of her habit. Her eyes immediately dropped to the floor, where Azzi was still curled up, trembling and clutching Paige’s hoodie to her chest while Ines held her tight.
A wave of sympathy washed over the nun’s face. She closed the door gently behind her, stepping just a few inches into the room so as not to crowd them.
"Ines," she said softly, her voice carrying the quiet authority of the administration. "I just spoke with the Mother Superior and the housing office. Given the extreme circumstances and how deeply affected Azzi is, they are granting a temporary variance. You are permitted to stay here in this room with Azzi for the next month to keep an eye on her."
Ines looked up, her face pale and streaked with her own tears of grief and confusion. She nodded quickly, tightening her arm around Azzi. "Thank you, Sister."
The nun took a slow breath, her expression growing more rigid as she delivered the school's official policy.
"The headmistress is granting both of you a five-day mourning period," the nun continued, her tone shifting to that familiar, structured discipline. "For the next five days, you are excused from morning chapel, meals in the refectory, and classes. However, once those five days are up, you will both be expected to put on your uniforms and begin your studies. St. Mary's expects its girls to find strength in routine, and we cannot have you falling behind so early in the year."
Azzi didn't even look up. She just buried her face deeper into the fabric of the hoodie, her shoulders hitching as she let out another broken whimper, completely deaf to the school's deadlines.
The nun’s gaze lingered on Azzi for a long moment. Despite the rules she had to enforce, the raw agony radiating from the girl on the floor was undeniable. The nun bowed her head slightly, her voice dropping to a genuinely compassionate whisper.
"I am truly so sorry, Azzi," She said softly. "I will pray for your healing, and I will pray for Paige's soul, wherever she may be. May God grant you peace."
With a soft rustle of her habit, the nun turned and slipped out of the room.
Ines looked down at Azzi, her heart breaking at the sight of her friend completely shattered on the floor. The silence of the room was punctuated only by Azzi’s ragged, uneven breaths as she held the hoodie against her face.
"Hey," Ines whispered softly, gently brushing a stray piece of hair away from Azzi’s damp forehead. "Why don’t you put it on? Maybe... maybe it’ll help you feel a little closer to her."
Azzi didn't say anything, but she didn't fight it either. She let go of her death grip on the fabric just long enough for Ines to help guide her arms through the sleeves and pull the material over her head. The hoodie completely swallowed her, the fabric hanging loosely around her frame, instantly wrapping her in the scent of laundry detergent and the faint, familiar warmth of the girl she was terrifyingly missing.
Azzi pulled the hood up over her head, burying her face into the collar, letting out a small, shaky exhale.
"There you go," Ines murmured, her own eyes stinging with tears. She slowly hooked her arms under Azzi's, trying to gently lift her up from the cold floor. "Come on, let’s get you into bed. You need to rest, Azzi. Let’s get you under the blankets."
But as Ines tried to guide her toward her own neatly made side of the room, Azzi’s body went completely rigid. She dug her heels into the floor, shaking her head frantically beneath the hood.
"No," Azzi choked out, her voice raw and barely audible. "No, I can't... I want to sleep in Paige’s. Please, I need to be in Paige's bed."
Ines opened her mouth to say something, but the desperation in Azzi's eyes stopped her completely. She still didn't understand the full depth of what Paige meant to Azzi, but she knew she couldn't deny her this one small comfort.
"Okay. Okay, it's okay," Ines said soothingly.
Leaving Azzi standing there trembling, Ines quickly walked over to Azzi's side of the room. She gathered the pillows and pulled the blankets completely off the mattress. She carried them over to the bare, stripped bed on the other side of the room, carefully tossing the pillows down and layering the blankets over the plain mattress frame to make it as comfortable as possible.
Once it was done, Ines stepped back and held out a hand. Azzi didn't hesitate. She climbed straight onto Paige's bed, curling herself into a ball right in the center of the mattress. Ines pulled the blankets up over her shoulders, tucking her in as Azzi pulled the sleeve of Paige's hoodie over her mouth, staring blankly at the empty wall in the dimming light.
It took Ines about twenty minutes to gather her necessities from her own dorm down the hall. Carrying a duffel bag and her pillow, she pushed open the door to Azzi’s room, expecting to find Azzi fast asleep under the blankets.
Instead, the room looked completely different.
Through sheer, adrenaline-fueled desperation, Azzi had somehow managed to shove the wooden frame of Paige’s bed a few inches across the room. She was sitting upright, completely swallowed by Paige’s hoodie, her back resting against the headboard. Her arm was raised, her index finger slowly, repeatedly tracing a small spot on the wall.
Ines set her duffel bag down with a soft thud, her brow furrowing as she stepped closer. "Azzi? What are you doing?"
Azzi didn't answer. She didn't even blink, her eyes entirely fixated on the wall.
Ines leaned over the edge of the mattress to see what she was looking at. There, hidden in the narrow gap where the bed had originally blocked it from view, was a tiny carving in the paint. It was faint, scratched into the wall with what must have been the tip of a knife: P + A enclosed in a lopsided heart.
The pieces instantly clicked in Ines’s mind. The way Azzi had completely unraveled, the frantic whispers about "her baby". They were in love.
A wave of profound sadness hit Ines, but she kept her voice incredibly gentle as she sat on the edge of the mattress. "Azzi... hey. You really need to sleep. It's been a nightmare of a day, and you're exhausted. Paige would want you to rest. She wouldn't want you hurting like this."
The mention of Paige’s name acted like a spark to dry kindling. Azzi’s finger stopped tracing the wall, and she snapped her head around, her eyes flashing with a raw, defensive anger that Ines had never seen from her before.
"Don't tell me what Paige would want!" Azzi lashed out, her voice cracking into a harsh, ragged sob. She yanked her arm away as if Ines had tried to touch her. "You don't know anything! Paige would want to be here. She would be sitting right here next to me, holding me, telling me she's okay! But she's not here!"
Azzi gripped the fabric of Paige’s hoodie over her chest, her breathing turning erratic again as tears streamed down her face.
"How am I supposed to just close my eyes and rest?" she cried, her voice dropping to a desperate, broken whimper. "I don't know where she is. I don't know if she's safe, or if she's hurt, or if... if I'm ever going to see her again. I can't just sleep. I can't."
Ines didn't argue. She didn't push back against the anger. She just reached out, letting Azzi vent her frustration, waiting patiently in the quiet room to offer whatever comfort she could to a heart that was completely breaking.
—
The next morning, the sun cut through the high windows, casting a sharp beam of light across the room. Ines stirred awake, blinking against the brightness, but the moment her vision cleared, her heart stopped.
Azzi was standing right over the side of her bed. She was still wearing Paige’s hoodie, the hood pulled halfway over her face, shadowing eyes that were completely bloodshot and hollow. She looked like a ghost, completely unmoving, just staring down at Ines.
Ines immediately bolted upright, her blankets twisting around her waist as alarm flashed through her.
"Azzi? Oh my god, hey," Ines said, her voice raspy from sleep. She reached out, gently wrapping her hand around Azzi’s freezing wrist. "Are you okay? Did you sleep at all? Do you want to sit down with me?"
Azzi’s shoulders sagged, the rigid posture completely melting away. "Yes," she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
Ines quickly slid over on the mattress, patting the space beside her. Azzi climbed onto the bed, pulling her knees tightly to her chest and burying her face in the sleeves of Paige's sweatshirt. She was trembling from head to toe.
Ines watched her for a long moment, the silence of the room filled only with the sound of Azzi's shallow breathing. The tiny carved heart on the wall, the desperate way Azzi had clung to Paige's clothes, the pain of the night before, it all painted a picture Ines couldn't ignore anymore.
Slowly, very tentatively and respectfully, Ines leaned in a little closer.
"Azzi..." Ines began, her voice incredibly soft, careful not to startle her. "Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if it hurts too much... but, was Paige your girlfriend?"
The question hung in the air for a split second. Then, a fresh, violent wave of grief seemed to tear straight through Azzi. A loud sob ripped from her throat, and she hid her face completely in her hands, nodding frantically.
"Yes," Azzi wailed, her voice completely broken as she rocked herself back and forth. "I love her so much... I love her so much and she's just gone."
Hearing the truth out loud; and seeing the absolute, catastrophic weight of the heartbreak tearing her friend apart, shattered Ines's heart into pieces. A lump formed in her own throat, and before she could stop them, tears began streaming down her own cheeks.
"Oh, Azzi," Ines choked out, her own voice cracking with deep, sorrowful emotion. She wrapped her arms tightly around Azzi's shaking shoulders, pulling her close and letting her own tears fall into the fabric of Paige's hoodie. Ines wept right along with her, completely heartbroken for the love her friend had lost, and the nightmare they were now trapped in.
—
The next afternoon, the room was suffocatingly still. Azzi sat on the edge of Paige’s bed, her eyes fixed blankly on the open cardboard storage box she had pulled out the night before.
Slowly, as if moving through deep water, she reached her trembling hand back into the box. Her fingers brushed past a few old binders until they hit a thick, black spiral sketchbook.
Azzi drew it out, her breath hitching. She knew Paige drew her; she had sat for her plenty of times, and she had seen drawings of them together that Paige would proudly show her. But Paige had always been a perfectionist, keeping the vast majority of her work tucked away, always telling Azzi she'd show her the rest when they were finished.
With a shaky hand, Azzi flipped open the cover. She hadn't realized just how much Paige had been hiding.
A fresh, violent gasp ripped from her throat.
Page after page was entirely filled with her. The very first one was a highly detailed sketch of Azzi sleeping, her face relaxed against a pillow, the morning light captured perfectly in the soft shading of her hair. Azzi flipped the page, her tears instantly blurring her vision. The next was a sketch of her laughing, her head tilted back. The page after that was a quick drawing of her hands folded over a mug at the dining hall.
There were dozens of them she had never been allowed to see. Pages and pages entirely dedicated to her, capturing every tiny detail of their life.
And then, near the middle of the book, Azzi found a colored pencil drawing of the two of them that she did recognize, but it was completely finished now. They were sitting on the floor of this exact room, wrapped in a blanket, Paige’s chin resting on Azzi’s shoulder. Paige had spent hours meticulously drawing this one.
"Ines," Azzi choked out, her voice a raw whimper. "Ines, look."
Ines, who had been quietly organizing some clothes across the room, immediately hurried over and sat beside her.
Azzi held the sketchbook up with both hands, her fingers shaking so violently the paper rattled. She was sobbing so hard she could barely keep her eyes open, the tears splashing directly onto the edges of the thick paper.
"I knew she drew us, but... I didn't see all of this," Azzi wailed, her chest heaving as she pointed a trembling finger at the endless pages of sketches. "Look at how many there are, Ines. She kept everything. She loved me so much. Look how she drew us."
Ines looked down at the notebook, her own eyes swelling with fresh tears. The drawings weren't just skilled; they were overflowing with an obvious, deeply tender reverence. Every line showed exactly how much Paige cherished the girl sitting next to her.
"It's beautiful, Azzi," Ines whispered, her voice cracking as she wrapped an arm around Azzi's shaking shoulders, pulling her close. "She saw you. She really, truly saw you."
Azzi collapsed sideways against Ines, clutching the sketchbook tightly against the chest of Paige's hoodie. She wept into the empty room, the beautiful, heartbreaking evidence of Paige's devotion making the space where she should have been feel larger and more painful than ever.
—
The harsh buzzing of the facility's recreation room clock signaled thirty minutes of free time, but the noise barely registered to Paige.
Nika slid onto the couch next to her, keeping her body angled toward the room to act as a shield against the staff’s watchful eyes. "Hey," Nika whispered, her voice low and steady. "You're doing good. You’ve been playing it perfectly in group. Just breathe."
A broken shudder rippled through Paige’s chest. She didn't look at Nika, keeping her head down as hot, silent tears began to track down her face, dripping onto her shirt.
"She’s there," Paige choked out, her voice a fractured, agonizing whisper. "Nika... Azzi got to school three days ago."
Nika shifted closer, her eyes scanning the room to make sure the staff weren’t paying attention. "How do you know the date?"
"I've been counting," Paige whimpered, her fingers knotting into the fabric of her shirt, right over the hidden locket. "She knows. She knows I’m not coming back to school. She went to our room, and it was empty, and she knows."
The reality of the timeline seemed to crush whatever resilience Paige had been holding onto. Her shoulders shook violently as she tried to swallow a sob, her face turning pale.
"I miss her so much," Paige wept, her voice cracking with a raw, desperate grief. "I just want to go home. I want to be in our room." She turned her tear-streaked face to Nika, her eyes wide and hollow. "I feel like I failed her. I promised her I’d be there and now she’s alone, and she probably thinks I just left her, or I don’t care about her."
"Hey, that’s not true," Nika commanded softly, grabbing Paige’s wrist. "Look at me, Paige."
Paige forced her eyes to meet Nika's.
"You did not fail her," Nika whispered, her eyes shining with conviction. "Your parents ambushed you. This place locked you away. You are surviving hell right now just to get back to her. Azzi knows you. If she loves you the way you say she does, she knows you wouldn't just walk away. She knows you're fighting."
Paige wiped her face with the back of her trembling hand, Nika's words acting like a fragile comfort in the middle of her panic.
"We are getting out of here," Nika promised, leaning in so close her breath brushed Paige's ear. "Cry right now, get it out, but the second rec time is over, we put the mask back on. You're doing this for her. Remember the plan."
Paige swallowed hard, nodding slowly as she squeezed the locket through her clothes. "For her," she whispered into the sterile room, forcing her tears to stop as she prepared to face the staff once again.
—
The dark silence of Paige’s room was broken only by her ragged, uneven breathing. She lay curled on her side in the narrow bed, her body hidden beneath the thin blanket. Tucked securely into the waistband of her pants, pressing right against her skin, were the folded love letter and the picture of the two of them. But in her hands, held just inches from her face in the faint sliver of hallway light, was her picture of Azzi.
Tears streamed down Paige’s cheeks, soaking into her pillow as she traced the edge of the picture with a trembling thumb.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't there," Paige whispered into the dark, her voice a desperate, broken murmur as if Azzi were standing right beside the bed. "I know you were looking for me. I know you're alone in our room right now. But I'm coming back, baby. I swear I'm coming back to you. Just hold on for me..."
Suddenly, the deadbolt clicked, and the door swung open with a violent slam.
The harsh, blinding beams of two flashlights cut through the darkness, pinning Paige to the mattress. Two night-shift staff members stepped into the room, their expressions cold and accusatory.
"Bueckers! What do you have in your hands?" the lead staff member snapped, stepping aggressively toward the bed. "Get up. Hand it over right now."
Paige gasped, panic freezing her blood as she instantly tried to shove the photograph under her pillow. "Nothing! It's nothing, just leave me alone!"
"We saw it. Hand it over, now. You know contraband isn't allowed," the second staff member ordered, reaching down and violently ripping the pillow out from under Paige’s head. The flashlight beam illuminated the photograph lying on the mattress.
The lead staff member snatched it up, holding it into the light to inspect it. A look of intense disgust crossed her face. "This girl looks disgusting. This is exactly the kind of sinful deviation we are purging from you."
Blinding fury erupted inside Paige’s chest. Hearing them call Azzi; the most beautiful thing in the world, disgusting snapped something deep within her. The compliance she had carried for weeks disintegrated in a single second. She sat up, her eyes flashing with a terrifying rage.
"Give it back!" Paige screamed, her voice cracking as she lunged forward.
The staff members stepped back, the second one grabbing Paige by her arms to restrain her. "Calm down, Bueckers! Sit back down!"
"Get your hands off me! Don't fucking touch her!" Paige shrieked, fighting against the grip with everything she had. "You can't take her away from me! You can't! I need her! Give her back to me!"
The lead staff member quickly shoved the photograph into her uniform pocket. "It's going in the incinerator."
The incinerator. The words echoed in Paige’s mind, and any remaining ounce of restraint or self-preservation vanished. With a raw, feral scream, Paige ripped her arms free from the staffs grip. She threw her entire body weight forward, tackling the staff member who had put the photo in her pocket.
They crashed hard against the cinderblock wall. Paige was entirely blinded by rage and grief, her fists swinging wildly, scratching and clawing at the staffs uniform as she tried to tear the pocket open.
"Give her back! Give her back to me!" Paige screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice echoing down the hallway as the second staff member threw their arms around Paige’s neck, trying to violently drag her off and pin her to the floor.
Even with the second staff member's arm locked around her neck, dragging her backward, she refused to stop. Her heels dug into the floor, kicking wildly, and she threw her elbows back, striking anything she could hit.
"Give her back to me!" Paige shrieked, her voice tearing at the throat, raw and unrecognizable. "You can't have her! She’s mine!"
She lunged forward again, her fingers clawing frantically toward the staff’s pocket, trying to rip the fabric open to salvage the photograph. The thuds of the struggle and Paige’s piercing screams echoed violently down the sterile, concrete hallway of the ward.
"Get her legs! Pin her down!" the staff member yelled, her grip tightening around Paige's chest as they both crashed heavily to the floor. Paige thrashed against the ground, her nails scraping against the floorboards, screaming Azzi’s name into the dark room like a prayer and a battle cry all at once. Tucked safely in her waistband, the hidden letter and photo pressed against her skin; the last thing she had left to protect.
The door burst open again, the bright fluorescent light from the hallway flooding the room.
A nurse rushed in, in her right hand, she held a gleaming plastic syringe, flicking the side of it as she stepped quickly into the chaos.
"Hold her still!" the nurse commanded, dropping to her knees beside the thrashing pile of bodies. "I can't get a vein if she keeps moving!"
"No! Get away from me! Don't touch me!" Paige screamed, her eyes widening in pure horror at the sight of the needle. She redoubled her efforts, twisting her body violently, trying to shield her arm. "Azzi! Azzi, help me!"
The second staff member threw his entire body weight across Paige’s legs, pinning them to the floor, while the first aggressively pinned her left arm flat against the ground. Paige panted heavily, her chest heaving, tears leaking furiously from the corners of her eyes as she looked up at the ceiling, completely trapped.
"Injected," the nurse muttered coldly, swabbing a patch of skin on Paige's exposed shoulder through the torn sleeve of her shirt and plunging the needle down.
Paige gasped, a sharp cry of pain escaping her lips as the sedative was forced into her system.
"Hold her down until it takes effect," the nurse ordered, stepping back and capping the syringe.
Paige kept fighting, her fingers twitching, trying to claw her way back toward the staff members pocket, but within seconds, a terrifying weight began to spread through her veins. The room tilted violently. Her screams melted into thick, slurred whimpers, her vision fracturing into dark, blurry edges. The rage in her chest was forcibly smothered by the fog of the drug, leaving her completely helpless as the darkness pulled her under.
—
The sound of scuffling boots and muffled shouting echoed down the hall, instantly waking Nika. She scrambled to the edge of her mattress and pressed her face against the small, reinforced glass window of her door.
Outside, two large male staff members were carrying Paige down the hallway. Paige’s head was lolling back, her eyes glassy and half-closed from the sedative, though her fingers still twitched weakly against her uniform slacks. The nurse walked closely behind them, holding an empty tray.
Nika's heart pounded against her ribs. Her face twisted into a look of confusion and dread as she watched Paige's limp form disappear around the corner toward the isolation wing. What the hell happened? Nika thought, her hands gripping the door frame tightly. She was fine at rec time.
The next morning, the deadbolt on Nika's door clicked open for breakfast call. The moment she stepped into the corridor, she didn't head for the cafeteria. Instead, she marched straight to the central nursing station, slamming her palms down on the high laminate counter.
"Where is Paige Bueckers?" Nika demanded, her voice low but laced with authority.
The head nurse looked up from her clipboard, her expression completely unbothered. "Patient Bueckers had a violent behavioral episode last night and assaulted staff. She is currently placed in specialized isolation and under severe restriction. Go to breakfast."
"An assault?" Nika scoffed, shaking her head frantically. "That doesn't make any sense."
Nika leaned over the desk, her eyes pleading but sharp. "Just let me go back there and see her. If you let me talk to her for five minutes, I can get through to her. I can tell her to stop fighting the staff. She trusts me. I can make her comply so you don't have to keep sedating her. Just give me five minutes."
"The restriction is absolute," the nurse said coldly, not even looking up as she flagged a guard over. "Move along before you end up down there with her."
Nika was forced to step back as a staff member blocked her path. She clenched her fists, her mind racing with a sudden, sickening panic. She knew Paige wouldn't risk the entire escape plan by attacking someone over nothing; whatever had happened in that room last night, it had to be about Azzi.
The fog of the sedative took hours to clear. When Paige finally managed to drag her eyes open, the blinding overhead lights made her skull throb with white-hot pain.
She blinked, trying to move her hands to block the glare, but she couldn't. Her wrists were securely strapped to the sides of a cold, metallic medical bed, and leather restraints locked her ankles in place. She wasn't in her standard room anymore; this space was entirely white, windowless, and smelled of bleach.
"Ah, you're awake," a voice murmured from the corner.
Paige turned her head groarsily. Her counselor was sitting in a plastic chair, but next to her sat a woman in a sharp gray blazer, holding a digital tablet.
"Paige, this is Dr. Smith," the counselor said, her voice dripping with a forced, soothing tone. "She's here to perform a psychological evaluation following your violent outburst last night. We want to understand what happened."
Dr. Smith offered a warm, maternal smile, leaning her chair forward. "Hello, Paige. I know this looks frightening, but I want you to know I'm not here to punish you. In fact, I'm quite concerned. The staff tells me you were screaming a name last night. Azzi? I understand you two were very close before you got here."
Paige's chest heaved. At the mention of Azzi, the raw, bleeding wound of the previous night reopened. She was completely exhausted, physically drained from the fight and mentally battered by the drugs still coursing through her veins. In her state of utter desperation, she couldn't see the calculating gleam in the doctor's eyes. She just saw a sympathetic face.
"They took her," Paige choked out, her voice raspy and cracked. Tears immediately pooled in her eyes. "They took her photo. They called her disgusting. But she’s not... she’s so beautiful. I had to fight them. I had to protect her."
"I see," Dr. Smith nodded gently, typing a quick note on her screen. "Tell me more about her, Paige. It's safe here."
The floodgates completely opened. Too exhausted to recognize the trap, Paige went on and on, the words pouring out of her in a desperate, breathless torrent. She talked about the room they shared at St. Mary's, the way Azzi laughed, the tiny heart carved into the paint behind the bed. She talked about the future they were supposed to have, her voice trembling with a profound, consuming devotion.
Throughout it all, Dr. Smith just nodded slowly, her expression full of soft, reassuring pity. "I understand, Paige. I completely understand."
Hearing those words, an immense wave of relief washed over Paige's chest. She sobbed, her restrained hands twitching against the leather straps. "You do? Thank you... oh my god, thank you. Please, if you understand, you have to let me out of these. You have to help me get out of here. I need to go see her. She’s all alone and she thinks I abandoned her. Please help me get back to Azzi."
Dr. Smith’s warm smile slowly faded, replaced by a cold, clinical detachment. She stopped typing and looked at the counselor, then back down at Paige.
"I understand," Dr. Smith said, her voice dropping all pretense of warmth, becoming chillingly flat. "I understand that you are clinically insane, Paige."
Paige froze, the relief instantly evaporating from her chest as ice water flooded her veins. "What...?"
"Your behavior demonstrates a textbook case of severe emotional fixation, acute delusional dependency, and violent paranoia," Dr. Smith read aloud from her tablet. "You are experiencing an obsessive, unhealthy attachment to this girl, to the point of severe reality distortion. You attacked staff over a piece of paper, and you are currently displaying a total inability to function outside of this fixation."
"No... no, that's not true! It’s just love!" Paige shrieked, pulling frantically against the wrist restraints, the leather biting deep into her skin.
"Furthermore," Dr. Smith continued, completely ignoring Paige's cries as she stood up, "this level of psychological instability requires immediate intervention. Effective immediately, your evaluation will reflect the need for intensive isolation therapy, an increased regimen of antipsychotics and total restriction on any recreational or peer contact."
The doctor looked down at Paige one last time, her eyes completely devoid of the empathy she had faked just moments before. "We are going to cure this sickness, Paige. Whether you like it or not."
With a nod to the counselor, Dr. Smith turned and walked out of the room, leaving Paige pinned to the metal bed, screaming and thrashing against the heavy straps as the horrifying reality of the trap closed in around her.
—
Three days passed, and the routine of the facility felt entirely different to Nika without Paige. Every mealtime, every group session, and every miserable minute of rec time, Nika’s eyes darted toward the metal doors, hoping to see a flash of blonde hair. But Paige never reappeared. The staff remained tightly closed-mouthed, and the silence was driving Nika insane. She knew Paige couldn't handle whatever torture they were putting her through down there.
During Tuesday afternoon's rec time, Nika sat on the edge of a plastic table, her mind working through every possible angle. That's when she noticed him.
Standing by the exit doors was a new, younger male counselor; probably an intern or a fresh hire out of college, definitely no older than twenty-three. He looked entirely out of his depth, his lanyard clutched in his hand as his eyes scanned the room. When his gaze landed on Nika, he lingered a second too long, a subtle flush creeping up his neck before he quickly looked away.
Nika’s lips curved into a calculating smile. Found my way in, she thought.
Nika slid off the table, smoothing down her pants, and casually walked across the linoleum floor. She leaned against the doorframe right next to him, deliberately crossing her arms so her posture forced him to look down at her.
"Rough shift?" Nika asked, her voice dropping into a low, smooth cadence. She tilted her head, letting a few strands of dark hair fall perfectly over her shoulder.
The young counselor blinked, clearing his throat nervously as he glanced around to see if any senior staff were watching. "Uh, just the usual. Staring at the walls."
"Must be exhausting, watching us all day," Nika murmured, stepping just an inch closer, close enough that he had to look her right in the eyes. She offered him a soft, slow smile that she knew exactly how to weaponize. "You look like you're too smart to be stuck guarding a bunch of kids in a place like this."
The compliment hit exactly where she wanted it to. The counselor's shoulders relaxed, a smug, flattered grin breaking through his professional facade. "Yeah, well, it's just a stepping stone. Pays the bills."
"Mmh. I bet you have access to the whole building, don't you?" Nika asked softly, her fingers casually tracing the edge of her own collar, keeping his attention locked entirely on her. She lowered her voice to a whisper, leaning in close enough that her breath brushed his shoulder. "Listen... I’m bored out of my mind in here. And I happen to know there’s a girl down in the isolation wing who needs a quick reality check from a friend."
The counselor's eyes widened slightly, his nervous gaze darting back to the floor. "No way. That's restricted. I could lose my job."
Nika let out a soft, breathy laugh, reaching out to barely swipe her fingertips against his forearm. The touch made him stiffen, his chest rising as he stared down at her.
"Nobody has to know," Nika whispered, her eyes holding his with absolute intensity. "Just take me down there for ten minutes. Let me see her. And then maybe we could get to know each other?"
The implication hung heavily in the air. The counselor swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to her lips before scanning the empty hallway behind them. The thrill of breaking the rules with a girl who was looking at him like he was the only person in the room completely overrode his training.
He gripped his keycard tightly, his knuckles turning white as he gave a tense, rapid nod.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice shaking slightly as he unlocked the heavy side door. "Keep your head down and stay right behind me."
"Perfect," Nika smiled, her expression turning deadly serious the second his back was turned as she slipped through the door behind him, finally on her way to get Paige out of the dark.
The counselor led Nika down a flight of concrete stairs into the lower level of the building, where the air was noticeably colder and smelled of damp bleach. He swiped his card at a final set of metal doors, stepping back to let her through.
"Room 4," he whispered nervously, his chest heaving as he kept his back to the wall, checking both ends of the empty corridor. "I'll stand watch at the end of the hall to cover for you. You have ten minutes. If anyone comes down, I’m locking you out."
"Got it. Thank you," Nika murmured, already moving down the row of solid steel doors.
She stopped at the small, reinforced glass window of Room 4 and looked inside. The room was tiny, windowless, and Paige was sitting cross-legged on a bare mattress, her skin looking pale and sickly under the fluorescent light. Nika quickly unlatched the door slider and slipped inside.
Paige snapped her head up, her eyes widening in absolute shock before a massive wave of relief washed over her face. "Nika?!"
She scrambled off the bed, and the two girls instantly threw their arms around each other in a fierce, tight hug. Paige buried her face into Nika's shoulder, her hands gripping the fabric of her shirt.
"Oh my god," Paige breathed, her voice cracking with thick emotion as she pulled back to look at her. "I thought you'd be gone by now. I thought you found a way out and left. How did you even get down here?"
Nika’s expression softened, but her eyes were heavy with a grim reality. "Leaving is going to be a lot harder than I thought. There’s so much staff here plus they lock our doors at night, and with you stuck down here... it’s probably going to take months. But I swear to you, I am not leaving without you."
Paige's throat tightened at the loyalty, but then her eyebrows furrowed. "But how are you here right now?"
Nika let out a small smirk, nodding toward the door. "There’s a new, younger counselor on the shift. All I had to do was flirt with him."
Paige’s face instantly dropped into a scowl of pure disapproval. "Nika, no. You shouldn't be doing that. He could get you in so much trouble—"
"Hey, I'm fine," Nika interrupted smoothly, waving her hand to dismiss it. "Tell me how the hell you ended up here in the first place. What happened?"
Paige looked down at the floor, her fingers instantly knotting together. "The night shift staff came in for a room check. They saw me holding a picture of Azzi. They tried to rip it out of my hands, and they called her... they called her disgusting. I couldn't just let them take her."
Nika’s eyes went wide, stress washing over her features as she rubbed her temples. "Are you serious, Paige? You brought a picture into this place? Are you crazy? That was so dumb!"
"I have another one," Paige whispered quickly, cutting her off. She reached down, tapping the tight fabric over her hip. "I have another picture of us and a letter she wrote me tucked into the waistband of my pants right now. They didn't find it."
Nika stared at her, her jaw literally dropping in a mix of utter disbelief and panic. "What the actual fuck, Paige?! You have more?! If they find it you’re dead!"
"I don't care!" Paige fired back, her voice rising into a desperate, choked whisper as tears pricked her eyes. "I couldn't just let them take Azzi! I had to fight them! But because I fought back, the doctor did a psychological evaluation on me. She pretended to be nice, got me talking about Azzi, and then she gave me this dumb 'clinically insane' diagnosis. She said I have an obsessive fixation and reality distortion. Now I'm ordered to stay in isolation permanently, on meds, with zero peer contact."
The anger faded from Nika's face, replaced by a deep, hollow sadness as she looked at her friend. The weight of the diagnosis meant the facility now had an excuse to keep Paige buried down here forever.
"Oh, Paige..." Nika whispered, her heart aching for the absolute nightmare Paige was trapped in, realizing just how high the stakes had become.
Nika stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Paige again, holding her tightly. Paige clung to her, burying her face into Nika's shoulder as a shaky breath escaped her lips.
"Nika..." Paige whispered, her voice sounding incredibly small against the cold fabric of Nika's uniform. "Do you... do you think it's true? What the doctor said? Am I actually crazy?"
"No," Nika said firmly, pulling back just enough to look Paige dead in the eye. "No, Paige, you are not crazy. You love someone. Don't let them make you doubt your own mind."
Slowly, Paige pulled back, her eyes hollowed out by exhaustion. She looked down at her hands, her voice dropping to a raw, fragile whisper.
"Nika... there's something else," Paige said, her bottom lip trembling. "Ever since the diagnosis, they've been making me take this medicine. Every single day. It... it makes me so drowsy and my stomach hurts so bad."
Nika’s brow furrowed, her hands still resting on Paige's shoulders as she listened intently.
"I keep throwing up," Paige admitted, a tear finally escaping and tracking down her pale cheek. "I can't keep anything down. I try to eat, but I just... I can't. The smell of the food makes me sick."
Nika’s eyes swept over Paige’s face, taking in the sharp angle of her jaw and the prominent collarbones cutting against the collar of her shirt. A cold spike of alarm shot through her.
"Paige, you need to stop swallowing those pills," Nika said, her voice urgent but hushed, keeping her eyes darting toward the end of the hallway. "You have to start faking it. Cheek them, tuck them under your tongue, whatever you have to do, and then spit them out when they walk away. You can't keep taking whatever they're giving you."
Nika stepped back just a fraction, her eyes tracing Paige’s frame with deep worry. "You look like you're losing weight. If you keep throwing up, you're going to get too weak."
A flush of deep embarrassment colored Paige's pale cheeks. She looked away, staring down at their shoes, her voice barely audible.
"It's not just the pills," Paige admitted softly, her shoulders hunching inward as if she wanted to disappear. "My... my anxiety makes it really hard for me to eat anyways. Even before the medicine. I was like that living with Azzi too, I feel like I'll choke if I try to swallow anything. It's embarrassing."
Nika’s heart broke for her. The anger and panic she’d felt moments ago about the smuggled photos melted completely away, replaced by a wave of protective love.
She stepped forward and pulled Paige back into her arms, wrapping them tightly around Paige's shoulders.
"Oh, p," Nika murmured into her hair, holding her close, trying to transfer some of her own strength into Paige's fragile frame. "We are going to get through this, okay? I promise."
Paige swallowed hard, a tiny, fragile glint of relief returning to her eyes. She reached down toward the waistband of her pants, pausing as she looked up. "Do you... do you want to see Azzi?"
Nika offered a soft, genuine smile. "Yeah. Yeah, show me."
Very carefully, ensuring the door window was clear, Paige slipped her hand into the lining of her waistband and pulled out the hidden photograph. She held it out with trembling fingers, shielding it with her body.
Nika leaned in to look. In the photo, Azzi was laughing, her whole face lit up with a warmth that seemed entirely impossible in a place like this.
"Wow," Nika murmured, her eyes softening completely. "She’s so so beautiful."
A wave of pride washed over Paige’s pale face. A genuine smile broke through her exhaustion, and she looked down at the photo with absolute devotion. "Yeah," Paige whispered, her voice thick with love. "Yeah, she is. That's my girl, she’s my angel."
She carefully tucked the photograph back into its hiding place, smoothing her shirt over it before throwing her arms around Nika one more time. Holding onto her friend, Paige felt a sudden wave of guilt. She had been drowning in her own misery, barely asking about the person who was risking everything to stand in this cell with her.
"How are you doing, Nika?" Paige asked softly, pulling back to look at her. "Really. How are you holding up?"
The question cracked right through Nika’s tough exterior. A heavy sob caught in Nika’s throat, and before she could stop them, hot tears spilled over her eyelashes.
"I miss Jordyn so much," Nika wept, her voice breaking completely as she hid her face in her hands. "I miss her so badly it hurts, Paige. Every single day. I just want to be with her. I want to go home."
Paige’s heart broke for her. She reached up, gently pulling Nika's hands away from her face, and used her thumbs to wipe the tears from Nika’s cheeks.
"I know," Paige whispered, her own eyes swelling with fresh tears. "I know. I'm so sorry." She squeezed Nika's shoulders tightly, looking at her with fierce gratitude. "I love you, twin. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for not letting me disappear down here."
Nika sniffled, leaning her forehead against Paige's for a brief, comforting second. "I love you too."
A sharp tap on the door's glass window cut through the quiet. The young counselor was peering in, his face pale with panic, pointing frantically at his watch. Time was up.
Nika quickly wiped her face, stepping backward toward the door. "Stay strong, okay? Don't let them lie to you. I'm going to figure out a way to get back down here, I promise. Just hold on."
"Nika, wait," Paige called out in a sharp, serious whisper, grabbing her arm before she could turn the handle. Her eyes were intense, completely protective. "Listen to me. If that guy, if he ever asks for anything more than some flirting out of you, you need to stop working with him immediately. Do you hear me? You need to stay safe. I mean it. Don't jeopardize yourself for me."
Nika looked at Paige, seeing the dead-serious concern in her eyes, and her own expression softened. She gave a firm, reassuring nod. "I hear you. I will. I'll stay safe, I promise."
With a final squeeze of Paige's hand, Nika slipped through the door, clicking it shut behind her.
—
The silence of Room 535 felt heavier as the night wore on. Azzi stood by her dresser, staring down at her hands. She was trembling slightly, her fingers nervously gripping a piece of soft, crimson fabric.
After a long moment of hesitation, she took a deep breath and walked over to the side of Ines’s bed. She looked incredibly vulnerable, her eyes wide and anxious in the dim lamplight.
"Ines?" Azzi called out softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She tightly squeezed the fabric in her hands. "Um... I really don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but... Paige buys me these nightgowns. And this red one, it's actually one of the ones she bought for me the last time we saw each other in July. I really want to wear it tonight, if that's okay."
Ines immediately looked up from her desk, her expression softening into pure warmth. She shook her head without a second of hesitation.
"Azzi," Ines said gently, leaning forward. "That would never make me uncomfortable. I want you to do whatever you need to do to feel close to Paige. If wearing that brings you even a little bit of peace tonight, then you should absolutely wear it."
A faint, incredibly grateful smile flickered across Azzi’s face. "Thank you," she breathed.
She took the nightgown and disappeared into the bathroom to get changed. When she came back out, the vibrant red silk hung softly on her frame. Azzi walked over to Paige's side of the room. She carefully pulled back the blanket and crawled into the mattress, curling up on her side. She had just switched the sheets on the bed to Paige’s old ones this morning.
"Ines," Azzi whispered into the dark, her voice muffled against the pillow. "The sheets... they still smell exactly like her."
Ines quietly watched her from across the room, her heart breaking for her friend.
"I think I’m going to go to mass tomorrow morning," Azzi continued, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek. She let out a small, self-conscious watery laugh. "I know it’s probably really dumb... but Paige loves God, and she loves mass so much. It’s just... I just want to feel near her. I want to be where she would be."
Hearing the longing in Azzi's voice, Ines stood up from her bed. She walked quietly across the room, stepping into the shadow of Paige’s bed. She knelt down beside the mattress and reached out, gently wrapping her fingers around Azzi’s trembling hand.
"None of that is dumb," Ines told her, her voice thick with emotion as she squeezed her hand. "It's not dumb at all. You don’t ever have to explain yourself to me."
Azzi squeezed Ines's hand back tightly, letting out a ragged breath as she held onto the sheets that smelled like Paige, finally feeling a tiny fraction of the safety she had been running from all week.
The next morning, the chapel doors had barely closed before Azzi hurried back to Room 535, the fragile peace she’d tried to find at mass completely evaporating the second she stepped back into the dorm.
Now, the late morning light filtered through the windows as Azzi lay curled on Paige’s bed. Her eyes were completely swollen, and her chest was already heaving as she held her phone with both hands, losing herself in the only place Paige still existed.
She tapped on a video from a rainy Sunday afternoon during last winter.
The clip started with Paige sitting cross-legged on this exact bed, her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose as she tried to study. Azzi’s voice came from behind the camera, filming her. "P, you’ve been reading the same page for twenty minutes. Look at me."
Paige didn't look up, a small, knowing smirk playing on her lips. "I'm studying, baby. Some of us care about theology class."
"You're lying," past-Azzi laughed, the camera moving closer until she crawled right into Paige's lap, completely disrupting the textbooks. Paige let out a dramatic, breathless groan, but her arms instantly wrapped around Azzi’s waist, pulling her flush against her chest. Paige buried her face in Azzi’s neck, inhaling deeply before looking up at the lens with an expression of pure, melting adoration.
"Fine, you caught me. I was thinking about you," Paige murmured into the camera, her voice deep and sleepy. She took the phone from Azzi's hand, propping it on the bedside table to record them. Paige pulled Azzi tighter into her arms, rocking her back and forth on the mattress. "I love you so much, you know that? You're a terrible study partner, but I love you."
"I love you more," past-Azzi whispered on screen, leaning up to kiss Paige's jaw.
"Impossible," Paige replied, capturing Azzi’s lips in a long, slow, deeply tender kiss. When they parted, Paige kept her forehead pressed against Azzi's, whispering, "This is better than studying."
Azzi swiped to the next video, a fresh wave of agony tearing through her throat.
This one was a quick, chaotic clip they’d taken late at night. They were wrapped up in Paige's white comforter, only their faces peeking out. Paige was making ridiculous, exaggerated kissy faces at the camera, trying to make Azzi laugh.
"Stop, P, you’re so annoying!" Azzi giggled in the video, shoving a hand over Paige's mouth.
Paige licked Azzi's palm making her shriek, and then pulled her hand away, laughing. "I can't help it. My girlfriend is perfect she’s trapped in a blanket with me."
"You are so stupid," Azzi laughed, leaning her head against Paige's shoulder as Paige showered the top of her head with soft kisses, murmuring, "But you love me."
Back in the present, something snapped deep inside Azzi's chest.
A sharp, violent gasp ripped from her throat. The phone slipped from her hands, clattering onto the mattress. The grief was physical, wrapping around her throat like a vice. She couldn't breathe. Her chest heaved rapidly, her lungs sucking in air but finding absolutely no oxygen.
"P-Paige..." Azzi choked out, her voice a terrifying, strangled whimper. She began to hyperventilate, her entire body shaking so violently that her knees knocked together under the blanket. Her vision went blurry, dark spots dancing at the edges.
Hearing the sudden, terrifyingly ragged breathing, Ines dropped her book and bolted across the room.
"Azzi! Azzi, hey, look at me!" Ines whispered, climbing onto Paige's bed without hesitation. She instantly wrapped her arms around Azzi's shaking frame, pulling her up against her chest. "Breathe, Azzi. You're okay. I’ve got you."
Azzi couldn't respond, her fingers clawing desperately at Ines’s shirt as she gasped for air, her chest rising and falling in terrifying, erratic jerks. She was sobbing so hard she was choking on her own tears.
"Match my breathing, okay? Just copy me," Ines urged, her voice steady but laced with deep panic for her friend. She took a deep, exaggerated breath, holding Azzi’s hand and pressing it flat against her own ribs. "In... and out. Come on, Azzi, follow my chest. In... and out. I'm right here. You're safe."
Ines rocked her back and forth, rubbing firm, soothing circles into Azzi’s back, letting her own tears fall silently into Azzi's hair.
Azzi’s fingers tightened like claws into the fabric of Ines’s shirt, her forehead pressed hard against Ines's shoulder as her chest continued to heave. The hyperventilating had slowed slightly, but it was replaced by raw, hollow despair.
"She didn't deserve this, Ines," Azzi choked out, her voice cracking violently on the words, a thick wave of fresh tears spilling onto the blankets. "Paige didn't do anything wrong. She didn't deserve any of this."
"I know, Azzi. I know," Ines said immediately, her own voice thick with emotion as she held her tighter, resting her chin on top of Azzi’s head. "Neither of you do. None of this is fair."
"I can't stop thinking about it," Azzi wailed, a violent shudder wracking her entire body. She pulled back just enough to look at Ines, her eyes completely bloodshot, wide, and filled with panic. "I can't stop thinking about the possibility of her being... of her being gone forever. What if someone hurt her? What if she's never coming back?"
Ines’s breath hitched in her throat, the sheer horror of the thought hanging heavily in the space between them.
"She was so anxious all the time," Azzi sobbed, the words pouring out of her in a desperate, breathless rush as she rocked herself back and forth. "She’s so fragile, Ines. She had panic attacks and would make herself sick from stressing so much, and she... she wouldn't eat sometimes. She’d feel so guilty about everything, about her parents, she'd just starve herself because her stomach was so weak. She told me she was doing good at home but what if she was lying to me. What if it was all too much for her?"
Azzi collapsed back against Ines’s chest, hiding her face in her hands as a loud, guttural sob ripped from her throat.
"I know something horrible happened to her!" Azzi shrieked, her voice breaking completely. "I know it in my gut. She wouldn't leave me like this. I’m so scared. I’m so, so scared."
Hearing the truth of Paige’s struggles, and seeing the certainty in Azzi’s eyes, completely paralyzed Ines. The standard, hollow platitudes of 'I'm sure she's fine' or 'Everything will be okay' felt like a disgusting lie. She couldn't say them. She didn't know how to fix a heartbreak this deep, and she didn't know how to take away a terror that felt so horribly justified.
So, with her own tears streaming down her face, Ines just squeezed Azzi with everything she had, rocking her in the middle of Paige's bed.
"I'm so sorry, Azzi," Ines choked out, her voice breaking into a whisper as she buried her face in Azzi's hair. "I am so, so sorry. I'm so sorry."
—
The late October chill rattled the high glass windows of their room, but inside, the silence was suffocating. It had been two months since senior year started; three endless months since Paige had been ripped away and locked inside the facility. The room was different now; Ines had moved out weeks ago, giving Azzi the single room she technically qualified for, leaving her completely alone.
Azzi sat at Paige’s old desk, the desk lamp casting long, lonely shadows across the floorboards. In front of her lay a blank notebook, a pen gripped tightly in her trembling hand. She knew Paige would never see this. She knew the pages would just sit in her bottom drawer, but she had to talk to her.
P, she began, her handwriting jagged and heavy, the ink bleeding slightly into the paper.
It’s been two months. Two months of waking up in this room without you, and I need you to know that I hate it here. I hate everyone. I hate walking down every hallway because all I see is the empty space where you used to walk next to me. I hate every single class we were supposed to take together. I sit in the back and I just stare at the wall, wishing it was a nightmare I could wake up from.
A hot tear slipped down Azzi’s cheek, splashing onto the edge of the page, but she didn't stop writing. The pen pressed so hard against the paper it nearly tore through.
I hate our room now. I hate your bed, and I hate the fact that your scent is completely gone from the sheets. I hate the nuns, I hate the look of pity on their faces when they see me, and their stupid, hollow prayers. I hate the other students because they get to laugh and complain about homework as if the world didn't stop turning in August. It feels so unfair, baby. It is so incredibly cruel that everyone just gets to live their lives here like normal, as if you aren't missing. It feels like everyone has completely forgotten about you, and it makes me want to scream at them.
Azzi choked on a dry, hollow sob, her chest heaving as she gripped the desk.
I’m even starting to resent Ines. She tries so hard, P. But I resent her because she isn't you. Every time she speaks, it’s just a reminder that it’s not your voice. I feel like a monster for it, but I can't stop.
She swallowed the thick lump in her throat, her hand shaking as she forced herself to keep writing, the raw, bleeding honesty pouring onto the paper.
I go to mass every single day now. I know you’d be happy about that, because you loved it so much, and you loved God. But every time I sit in those pews, every time I look up at the altar, I hate God a little bit more. I hate Him for taking you away from me. I hate Him for leaving me here alone while you're somewhere out there.
She stared at the tiny heart carved into the wall beside Paige’s bed, her vision blurring completely.
Wherever you are right now, my love, I just hope you're happy. I hope you're safe. I hope you still love me. Every morning I wake up and the air feels heavy in my lungs. This place isn't home anymore. It was only ever home because you were here with me. I want to leave. I want to pack my bags and just run until I find you, but I don’t know where to look.
I hope you know how much I miss you, how much my heart longs for you and that I’ll never stop loving you. Please come home to me soon.
All my love,
Azzi
Azzi dropped the pen, her hand cramping as she collapsed forward, burying her face in her arms over the open notebook. She wept silently into the empty, freezing room, her heart breaking all over again for the girl she loved.
—
The isolation room had no clock, but Paige could measure the passage of time by the arrival of the daily "therapy" sessions. Every morning, the steel door would swing open, and a counselor would sit just out of arm's reach, launching into the same lectures designed to break her down.
"You have to understand the root of your sickness, Paige," the counselor said, her voice smooth, rhythmic, and entirely devoid of warmth. She flipped through a binder filled with underlined text. "What you call 'love' is actually a severe behavioral malfunction. It's a manifestation of extreme moral decay and obsession."
Paige sat on the edge of the cot, her back pressed against the cold concrete wall. She kept her jaw clenched, her hands flat against her thighs, trying to block out the words.
"You’ve built an entire delusion around this girl," the counselor continued, leaning forward, her eyes tracking Paige's defensive posture. "It’s a text-book case of a corrupted mind. Normal, healthy individuals do not assault staff over a photograph. They do not hoard contraband like an addict. You are unstable, Paige. Your thoughts are disordered, and the lifestyle you are fixated on is broken."
"It's not a delusion," Paige whispered, her voice raspy from days of minimal use. She hated how weak she sounded, but the constant barrage was starting to wear on her nerves. "I know who I am. I know who she is."
"See? That is the illness speaking," the counselor countered immediately, scribbling a note in her file. "The refusal to accept reality is the clearest symptom of your insanity. You are sick. You are living in a fantasy world because you're terrified of facing your own deviance. Staff placed you here because you are a danger to yourself and a disruption to order. Until you admit that your attachment to that girl is a symptom of a deeply damaged psyche, you will stay right here."
She paused, looking down at Paige with a look of feigned, heavy-hearted sympathy that made Paige’s stomach instantly twist into a knot.
"Actually, Paige, there is something else you need to hear," the counselor said, sinking back into her chair. "Our outreach team made contact with St. Mary's. We spoke with her again."
Paige snapped her head up, her heart violently hammering against her ribs at the name St. Mary’s. A desperate, terrified hope flared in her chest. "Azzi? Is she... did she ask about me? Is she okay?"
"She's perfectly fine, Paige. In fact, she was very forthcoming," the counselor said, her voice dripping with cold, clinical pity. "We asked her about your relationship, and she told us the truth. She said she only started up with you because you were an easy target. She knew you were desperate, lonely, and incredibly easy to manipulate."
Paige froze, the air completely leaving her lungs as if she’d been struck in the chest. "What? No... no, that’s a lie."
"She told our team that it was never serious for her," the counselor pressed on, completely ignoring Paige's protest. "She said it was just something to pass the time at school. In fact, she’s completely moved on, Paige. She has a new girlfriend now. She doesn't miss you at all. She actually expressed relief that you were gone because your obsession was starting to be too much her."
"Stop it! Shut up!" Paige shrieked, her voice cracking as hot, frantic tears spilled over her eyelashes. She gripped her own hair, pulling at the blonde strands as a massive wave of anxiety slammed into her. The white walls of the room felt like they were actively closing in, crushing her. "That's a lie! You're making it up! Azzi loves me! Azzi wants to spend the rest of her life with me! She wouldn't say that, she wouldn't—"
"Why would she lie to us, Paige?" the counselor countered smoothly, her voice a chillingly calm contrast to Paige's hysteria. "You are trapped in a delusion. She has moved on with her life while you are sitting in a cell, destroying your health over a girl who used you. You mean nothing to her."
"No! No, no, no!" Paige sobbed, her chest heaving in rapid, erratic jerks as a
panic attack began to paralyze her. She curled inward on the cot, tucking her knees to her chest, her entire body shaking violently. "It's not true... Azzi, please... it's not true..."
She rocked herself back and forth, desperately trying to hold onto the memory of Azzi, but the counselor's cruel, calculated words were already twisting like a knife inside her head.
The counselor sat perfectly still, watching Paige rock herself back and forth on the cot, waiting for the panic to dull her defenses just enough to press harder.
"Paige," the counselor said, her tone shifting to a soft, almost motherly cadence. "Before you met Azzi, is it true that you had no friends?"
Paige stopped rocking for a fraction of a second. The weight of the question hit her hard. She was so mentally exhausted, so utterly worn down by months of constant torture, that she didn't have the strength to fight the premise.
"Yes," Paige choked out, a fresh sob wracking her shoulders as she kept her knees pulled tight to her chest.
"And is it true that once Azzi started paying attention to you, you became attached to her very quickly?" the counselor asked, leaning in closer.
Paige swallowed hard, her throat burning. Images of their shared room, of the instant, intense safety she felt the moment Azzi smiled at her, flooded her mind. It had been fast. It had felt like finding air when she was drowning. "Yes," she whispered miserably, the tears blinding her.
The counselor let out a small, slow sigh, clicking her pen. "Then why wouldn't what I just told you about Azzi be true, Paige?"
Paige snapped her head up, her eyes wide with a fragile, shattered terror.
"Think about it," the counselor pressed, her voice smooth and unyielding. "You were isolated, vulnerable, and desperate for anyone to notice you. She saw an easy target. She saw someone she could manipulate to pass the time, and the moment you became too much, the moment your obsession started to scare her, she let us take you. She doesn't love you, Paige. Stop fighting for her."
The words cut through the last of Paige's strength, slicing straight into her deepest insecurities. The anxiety that had been simmering in her chest exploded into a violent spiral. Her vision blurred at the edges, the white concrete walls of the room seeming to tilt and warp around her. She couldn't draw a full breath; her lungs felt like they were filling with water as she hyperventilated, her entire body shaking so hard her teeth clicked together.
She doesn't love you. Stop fighting. The words echoed in her head, drowning out the memory of Azzi's voice.
The steel door clicked shut, the lock sliding into place with a definitive, echoing snap that left Paige alone with the poison the counselor had planted in her mind.
Paige collapsed sideways onto the thin mattress, her knees pulled tightly to her chest as the breakdown ripped through her. The counselor's words spun in her head like a violent carousel. An easy target. She doesn't love you. She has a new girlfriend. Paige closed her eyes, and her exhausted, traumatized mind immediately began to torture her with vivid images of Azzi looking at someone else the way she used to look at Paige. She imagined Azzi laughing in their room, holding another girl in her arms, whispering praises to her in the dark, kissing her the same way she used to kiss Paige, erasing Paige from her life as if she had never even existed.
"No," Paige choked out, a ragged sob tearing from her throat. She clutched at her hair, the fabric of her shirt damp with her own tears. "No, please, Azzi... please don't do that to me..."
She was suffocating, her chest heaving violently as she spiraled deeper and deeper. But just as the walls felt like they were going to completely crush her, a fierce, desperate instinct flared in her chest.
The letter.
With trembling, frantic fingers, Paige reached into the lining of her pants. Her knuckles scraped against her skin until her fingers finally brushed the edge of the folded, worn paper. She pulled out the love letter Azzi had written her.
She unfolded it with shaking hands, her tears blurring the familiar ink. She couldn't just read it in her head; she needed to hear it. She needed the room to be filled with Azzi's truth
As she looked at the words, Paige began to speak them aloud, her voice cracking as she deliberately spoke as Azzi, forcing her girlfriend's perspective to drown out the counselor's voice.
"This is real, Paige," she whispered out loud to the empty concrete walls, trying to capture the exact tone of Azzi’s voice. "Everything I wrote here is real. Not what they say about you. They're all liars, P. I love you so much."
She looked down at the paper, her eyes catching on the scribbled, affectionate words. A watery, heartbroken smile broke through her tears as she channeled Azzi completely, showering herself with the comfort she so desperately needed.
"You're my beautiful girl," Paige murmured softly, her voice trembling as she spoke the way Azzi would. "My sweet girl, don't believe them. Don't listen to what they're telling you, my love."
The violent shaking in her hands slowly began to settle as the truth of the letter washed over her, cutting through the counselor's psychological warfare like a blade. Azzi hadn't abandoned her. Azzi was still out there, loving her.
Carefully, reverently, Paige folded the paper back up, smoothing out the creases before sliding it safely back into the waistband of her pants, right against her skin where nobody could find it.
She lay back down on the cold cot, curling into a tight ball. She wrapped her own arms tightly around her chest, squeezing her eyes shut. She held herself as tightly as she could, closing her eyes and pretending with everything she had that the warmth squeezing her wasn't her own arms, but Azzi’s. She imagined the silk of Azzi’s nightgown, the smell of their shared dorm room, and the soft, solid weight of her girl holding her together.
"Keep fighting for me, P," Paige whispered into the dark, rocking herself gently as she spoke the words she knew Azzi would say if she were standing in this cell. "Keep fighting for me. I love you. I'm right here."
—
The next morning, the deadbolt on Room 4 rolled back with a loud, metallic clank. Two staff members flanked the doorway, gesturing for Paige to get up. Her limbs were stiff, and her eyes winced against the brighter lights of the corridor as they led her down a new hallway and pushed open the door to a small, sterile conference room.
Sitting at a long laminate table were her counselor, her father and her mother.
Paige froze, her chest instantly tightening. She hadn't seen her parents since the day they had forcibly dropped her off at the facility in August. They looked at her with detachment, offering no hugs, no warm smiles, and no relief.
"Sit down, Paige," the counselor instructed smoothly, gesturing to the empty plastic chair at the table.
Paige sat, keeping her hands tightly folded in her lap, her fingers instinctively pressing against the waistband of her pants where her remaining secrets were safely hidden.
"We wanted to bring you all together to discuss Paige's progress; or rather, her lack thereof, over these past few months," the counselor began, turning her focus entirely to Bob and Amy. "Paige has proven to be an incredibly difficult resident. She has actively resisted her behavioral restructuring, went so far as to physically fight our staff, and as a result, she has spent the last several weeks in our isolation wing."
Amy let out a sharp, disappointed sigh, shaking her head. "We expected better compliance, Paige."
"Furthermore," the counselor continued, flipping open Paige's thick file, "following her violent outburst and a formal psychological evaluation, the medical director has officially diagnosed Paige as clinically insane. She is suffering from an extreme obsessive fixation and severe reality distortion. The catalyst for her isolation was a contraband search. Paige managed to sneak a disgusting photograph into this facility, and when it was rightfully confiscated, she attacked the staff members who took it."
Hearing the counselor describe Paige’s favorite photo of Azzi that way made heat boil up through Paige's exhaustion.
"She's not disgusting," Paige spoke up, her voice raspy but dangerously sharp as she stared dead at the counselor. "Azzi is not disgusting. Stop saying that about her. You say I am a difficult patient but then you insult someone I love in front of my face and expect me to just take it."
"Paige, stop talking," Bob snapped, his voice booming in the small room.
Amy ignored Paige entirely, turning a sharp, demanding glare toward the counselor. "Have you addressed and cured her of these vile sexual urges yet? That is the entire reason we are paying for her to be in this program. We need the deviance completely eradicated."
The counselor blinked, looking slightly caught off guard as she glanced down at her notes. "Actually... Paige has never once mentioned any physical or sexual encounters during her intake or her daily therapy sessions. She has kept her focus entirely on an emotional attachment."
Bob let out a harsh, bitter scoff, slamming his hand flat on the table. "Of course she didn't tell you! She's lying to you just like she lied to us. That girl wrote it clearly in her letters. We read all of them. They were completely explicit about what they were doing together."
The revelation hit Paige like a slap, her blood instantly turning to fire. The thought of her parents' judgmental, hateful eyes scanning the beautiful, private words Azzi had written when Paige didn’t even have a chance to read them herself, made her completely lose her temper.
"You read all of them?!" Paige yelled, leaning forward, her eyes flashing with rage as she glared at her parents. "Some were still sealed, they were private, and you had absolutely no right to read the unopened ones!"
"We are your parents, Paige, we have every right—" Amy started, her voice rising in indignation.
"We never had sex! There was nothing sexual about any of it, we just loved each other! Besides, I was obviously not going to tell anyone here about that!" Paige fired back, gesturing wildly at the counselor and the sterile room, her voice shaking with an angry, defiant sob. "Why would I ever tell a single person in this awful place about that?"
The counselor’s eyes narrowed, her pen hovering sharply over the clipboard as she looked between Bob and Amy. The calm, sterile atmosphere of the room vanished in an instant.
"Mr. and Mrs. Bueckers, please explain exactly what you mean," the counselor demanded, her voice dropping into an authoritarian, clinical tone. "If there was physical progression, it changes her entire behavioral profile. What exactly did these letters say?"
Amy leaned forward, her face twisting into a look of pure, self-righteous disgust as she spoke the words aloud. "That girl wrote about how Paige would kiss her for hours. She literally wrote that Paige left marks all over her body; on her neck, on her chest, and how much she loved it. She also wrote that Paige bought her sinful articles of clothing. It was completely shameful behavior. And Paige had possession of pictures of them in those acts."
Paige felt the room tilt, a sickening wave of heat rushing straight to her face. Hearing her parents dissect the deeply beautiful moments she had shared with Azzi; the quiet nights where she had held her girl close and left those loving marks on her skin, how perfect Azzi looked crawling into bed with her nightgowns on every night, felt like a violation.
The counselor’s jaw tightened, and she slammed her folder shut with a definitive, echoing snap. She turned a cold, unyielding look toward Bob and Amy.
"This is a massive oversight in her initial intake," the counselor stated flatly. "Emotional fixation is one thing, but documented, active physical deviance means our standard behavioral restructuring is no longer sufficient. Paige’s level of corruption is far deeper than we anticipated. We need to immediately transfer her out of this wing and move her to a different unit and start treatment from the beginning, this will set her release date back another three months. She needs round the clock aversion therapy."
"No!" Paige shrieked, slamming both of her hands flat against the table as she stood up so fast her plastic chair screeched violently against the floor.
She was so beyond angry her entire body was vibrating, the blood roaring in her ears like a freight train. Every ounce of fear she had carried in isolation evaporated, replaced by blinding rage for the people sitting in front of her.
"You don't get to do that!" Paige yelled, her voice shaking with a terrifying intensity as she glared at the counselor, then whipped her head around to face her parents. "You don't get to lock me away just because you're disgusted by the fact that she's mine! You read my private shit, you force me to come here, you make up lies about Azzi, you lock me in a room, and now you want to make everything worse? I hate you! I hate all of you!"
"Paige, sit down right now!" Bob bellowed, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple as he stood up to match her height.
But Paige didn't back down. She stood tall, her chest heaving, tears of fury spilling over her lashes as she gripped the edge of the table.
The counselor didn’t flinch at Paige’s outburst. Instead, she slowly shook her head, her face settling into a chillingly smug expression of vindication as she made a deliberate mark on her clipboard.
"The behavior she’s displaying right now is very common for her in here," the counselor said, her voice dropping into a dangerously quiet, clinical register. "Paige, you are completely out of control. This volatile aggression, the irrational hatred toward your own family, the absolute refusal to accept reality; it is all proof of how deep the sickness goes. You are a danger to yourself and to the order of this facility."
Bob stepped forward, his fists clenched as he glared down at his daughter. "Look at what that girl turned you into," he hissed, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and disgust. "You're acting like an animal."
"How in the living fuck am I the insane one in this room?! Because I fell in love? That’s what makes me crazy? But you can torture me just cause I’m gay?! Mom and dad! You raised me for seventeen years and you think it’s ok to throw me away like I’m nothing to you because god told you my lifestyle is sinful?!" Paige screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of her fury, but the tears blurring her vision made her feel completely defenseless. "They fucking drug me to the point I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I can barely walk and you don’t fucking care?? I’m your daughter! You’re supposed to love me no matter what!”
"We've heard enough," the counselor said flatly. She didn't even look at Paige as she raised her hand and pressed a small red button on the wall intercom. "Security to Conference Room B. Resident Bueckers is escalating."
"No! Stop!" Paige cried, her rage suddenly spiking with panic.
Within seconds, the door clicked open. The two large, uniform-clad staff members stepped into the room. They didn't hesitate. Before Paige could even try to back away, they grabbed her by the upper arms, their grips tightening like iron vices through her sleeves.
"Get your hands off me!" Paige shouted, violently kicking her legs and twisting her torso to break free. "Let me go! Don't touch me!"
But she was completely exhausted, and her frantic struggles did nothing against their weight. They dragged her backward, her sneakers scuffing loudly against the floor. As she was forced out of the room, Paige locked eyes with her parents one last time. Amy had turned her face away in shame, and Bob just stared at her with a cold, unmoving finality.
"I hate you!" Paige shrieked at them, the hallway echoing with her raw, breaking voice as the guards hauled her toward the heavy steel doors leading down to the basement unit. "If you want me to stop loving her you’ll have to kill me!"
The conference room door slammed shut behind her, cutting off the view of her parents, and Paige was violently dragged down into the dark.
ft. Gabby Williams, Veronica Burton, and Janelle Salaün
Word Count: 6k
Warnings: Profanity
A/N: Sorry if the text thread gets too long (I got carried away...I had too much fun writing it) Send me your thoughts! Enjoyyyy 🫶
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Azzi Fudd wanted nothing more than a clean slate; a new opportunity. To spread her...purple wings.
The exciting trade created more commotion than just ESPN headlines, spreading...internally?
The Golden State Valkyries PR Manager, Paige Bueckers, had long been obsessed with the girl before the trade had even occurred. It takes all of her energy + a little help in Ballhalla to make Azzi even bat an eye(lash).
Azzi had always been reserved, thoughtful, and rather nonchalant.
And Paige was…um…but she forms a plan.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Gabs 🥂:
have u talked to her again
Miss Nonchalant:
who
Gabs 🥂:
stop it
paige
Miss Nonchalant:
no
stop bothering me
i’m busy
Gabs 🥂:
i literally saw u walk upstairs
Miss Nonchalant:
cuz i’m gonna go workout
Gabs 🥂:
go to her office first
Miss Nonchalant:
no
Gabs 🥂:
UGH
fine whatever
Azzi rolled her eyes at her phone, turning it off and tossing it into her locker. She stretched in the locker room before heading out with a towel to the gym.
She was starting to like her life in the bay. She'd lived almost all of her life in New York, but found the change of scenery rather pleasant. She’d gone on a few outings with Gabby in the past few days, and she had fallen in love with the West Coast. Not with Paige. Of course.
Though Paige was kind of…always on Azzi’s mind. Not in a weird way, though. Azzi honestly didn’t even understand why she'd catch herself practically daydreaming about the blonde. She didn’t like Paige. She doesn’t like Paige.
It was just something that her new teammates would tease her about during practice (and outside of it)…that’s it. So it was completely normal for her to be thinking about Paige when she was out thrifting with Gabby. To be thinking about Paige when she was out hiking with Gabby. To be thinking about Paige when she was out…okay, maybe she needed to stop thinking about Paige. And hang out with more people.
Even now, as Azzi made her way up to the third floor, slinging the towel over her shoulder, her mind was completely occupied with thoughts of the blonde.
They weren’t any explicit thoughts or anything. She wasn’t even admiring Paige (which she wouldn’t do, anyway, because she was not into Paige). She was just fascinated by how the girl acted around her. At least, that's what she told herself.
Azzi had only interacted with her a total of three times, blessedly not having to do media again after their awkward conversation that had ended with Paige’s family...stuff, and literally everything Gabby had told her about Paige’s mannerisms held true. She really did seem to be a nervous person in general. Especially when around Azzi.
She knew that Paige had to be attracted to her on some level, and that Gabby couldn't have just made that shit up, given Paige’s body language and…reactions?
Am I really her type? I know Gabby said she had been fawning over me, which I kinda get now- but like, does she really like me? She’s not ugly…I like her style. Does she do relationships? Am I even ready for a new relationship?
Thoughts of her ex-girlfriend filled her mind, souring the sweet thoughts of ‘what could be’ with Paige.
Azzi had done a pretty good job of staying present the last few days on the West Coast, instead of brooding over ‘what had happened’ and ‘what could’ve been’ in New York, and she intended to keep it that way. She shoved the thoughts out of her mind, literally shaking her head, as she opened the door to the gym.
She hung her towel on one of the racks before pulling out a bench. She was hitting chest today, so she’d need…
Dumbbells are over here.
She grabbed a set of 45-lb dumbbells and set them down on either side of the bench. She then adjusted the bench's incline, bringing it all the way down before sitting down and swinging a leg over the bench.
Four sets of eight. Not too bad.
She stretched her wrists out and grabbed the weights, resting them on her thighs first before fully lying down. She brought them up to be level with her chest and began her reps.
One-
Two-
Three-
Four-
Five-
Mmph-
Six-
The door to the gym opened, and Azzi glanced over to see who it was, mid-rep. At the sight, she felt her arms slacken and almost dropped the weights before sitting up with a grunt, settling them on her thighs again.
“Paige?”
“Oh, hey there, um, Fudd.” Well, Paige clearly wasn’t expecting to see her either. Her face had turned her classic shade of tomato-red, and she started playing with her hands, eyes darting around the room as the door closed with a click behind her.
Ugh.
Azzi was a little annoyed that her set had been interrupted, but her lips curved into a smirk, an idea popping into her head.
She set the weights down on the ground and swung a leg over the bench to face Paige. She could definitely…put what Gabby had said to the test. See if she was really interested.
She moved her weight forward, resting her elbows on her thighs, keeping her head down while peering up into Paige’s eyes. She breathed a little harder than strictly necessary after not even completing her first set. “What’s up?”
“I- um,” Paige visibly swallowed before continuing, “Sorry, I was looking for Miela-”
“Mm, Miela’s not here. Just me.” Azzi said, shrugging.
“Yeah, um, I see that. I’ll just- I’ll head out, then-”
“Wait…how’re you doing?” She cringed a little, internally, at just how rusty she was at this, but kept her expression flat. Bruh. Am I testing if I can be an idiot? Well, I passed-
Paige paused, hand gripping the door handle by her side. “Oh, uh, fine, I guess? Or, like, good, actually. Yeah, good.” She flushed an even deeper red, her grip visibly tightening as veins began to stand out across the back of her hand.
Oh- her hands are…
“Um, how’re you?”
Azzi blinked, refocusing her attention onto Paige’s face. “‘m doing fine too. Just getting a workout in before tomorrow’s game.”
“Cool cool cool. I’ll just head out, then-”
“Do we have media tomorrow?” Azzi stood abruptly, stretching her legs out even though she'd only been on the bench for two minutes tops. That’s a solid question, right?
“Uh, yeah? Two athletes always do media after games-”
“I mean me, Paige.” She let out a laugh, smiling and taking a few steps towards her. “Do I have media tomorrow?”
“Oh- um, I dunno, probably? I mean, I get to choose the players who do media, so like, maybe? Do you want to? I can put your name down-”
Hmm, she’s definitely not ugly. Her brain supplied her, unhelpfully, as she paused a few feet away from Paige.
She’s…objectively attractive. I know we keep teasing her about her blushing all the time, but…it is kinda endearing. She’s honestly kinda…cute. And her eyes? They’re kinda pretty…
She wouldn’t really mind seeing what Paige was about.
“No, no, I was just asking. Wait, you control who does media?” Azzi tilted her head, placing her hands on her hips. She knew full well that Gabby had already told her she does, but Paige didn’t need to know that.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Paige straightened up a bit, though her hand remained flexed around the door handle. “I dunno, Azzi, it kinda sounds like you wanna do media tomorrow.”
Azzi’s mouth upturned in surprise. She’s got jokes… “Mm, I’ll pass. Actually, can you make Gabby do it? She’s been annoying as fuck, lately.”
Paige laughed, “I mean, yeah, sure. For you, I would.”
Oh! “Wow, so smooth, Paige.” Azzi pursed her lips, hands remaining on her hips.
“No, wait- like-”
Azzi laughed, stepping even closer. They were only a foot apart now, and Paige had started shrinking against the door. “Would you? For me?”
Paige broke their heated eye contact, looking over at the mirror on her left. It took her a moment to speak up. “I- yeah-”
Azzi lifted her hand up to Paige’s chin, tilting her face back toward her, and spoke in a low, almost sultry voice, “Thank you, Paige.” Oh my god, was that too much?
“Um-”
Azzi giggled and let her hand fall, stepping back. That was fine, right? She turned and walked back to her bench as if nothing had happened, though she blinked a few times to steady herself. She grabbed the weights before sitting down again and cleared her throat before asking as casually as she could, “You’ll be at the game, too, right?” as she lay back on the bench, heart racing.
“I…will be there, yes.” Paige nodded, swallowing. “...will you?”
“At the game? Well, yeah. I’ll definitely be there, Paige.” Azzi briefly studied her face with a smile before starting a new set. “See you there.”
“Oh, yeah. Uh, bye, Azzi.”
She heard the door open and close again.
That was…satisfying.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Azzi sank deeper into the cold tub with a shiver. She nearly dropped her arms in beside her before thinking better of it and choosing to grasp the edges of the tub to prevent her torso from slipping further in (like last time). She hated ice baths. I mean, who doesn't?
She'd remembered to bring her phone with her, learning from the disaster that was last time, which had been the longest 15 minutes of her life (after she'd not-embarrassingly slipped and dunked her whole head in). She grabbed it with one hand and started scrolling through her notifications, pausing at one that caught her eye.
You were added to the group chat: “Paigey’s down bad”: (10 unread messages)
Azzi narrowed her eyes and clicked on it, sensing it was Gabby who was probably up to no good. And she was right. It was a group chat with Gabby, Janelle, and…Veronica.
Paigey’s down bad
Frenchie 1: ok let’s conspire
Ja: let’s
VB: So how’re we getting them together?
Azzi rolled her eyes, scrolling further.
VB: Are we locking them in the gym or smth?
Frenchie 1: nah azzi would literally find some way to get outta there
Azzi snorted at the irony.
Frenchie 1: we just gotta keep talking to her abt it
Ja: I’m adding her
Frenchie 1: NONO WAIT
Ja added Fudd
Frenchie 1: oh i thought u meant paige
VB: Stupiddd
Ja: agreed
Fudd: wtf is this
Fudd: what is this name
Frenchie 1: you gotta get with blondie
Ja: agreed
Fudd: single life is good leave me alone
Frenchie 1: u literally cried at the bar the other night cuz u saw a cute couple
Frenchie 1: and u said “im so sad im never gonna find love im gonna die alone”
Fudd: ok
Fudd: so
Fudd: shut up.
VB: Didn’t you have a gf in New York?
Frenchie 1: oof don’t talk abt that
Frenchie 1: she hasn’t even told me all of what happened but just know that shit went downnn 😬
Ja: ooooh what happened 👀👀
Ja: wait my internet’s bad i swear i sent that before gabby’s
Ja: mb Azzi
VB: Oh rly? Sorry Az
Fudd: you’re fine Ja
Fudd: and you’re fine too V
Fudd: you’re not Gabby
VB: I know I am 😛
Frenchie 1: yall are so stupid
Frenchie 1: well we know paige won’t do shit abt it so azzi it’s on u
Frenchie 1: u needa make the first move
Fudd: ???
Ja: idk she might
Frenchie 1: who? Paige? what?
Frenchie 1: it’s been like 2 years and she hasn’t done anything girl
Ja: idkkk
Frenchie 1: ?
VB: ???
Fudd: what?
Ja: ignore me
Ja: you’ll see
Frenchie 1: why u being so cryptic
Ja: so are u gonna flirt with blondie, Az?
Azzi gazed at the ripples that formed in the water as she squirmed in place, adjusting the positioning of her legs. What she’d just done in the gym wasn’t really flirting, right? It was more so testing the waters with Paige. Gauging her level of interest. Not flirting. Right. Which had come back…positive?
Fudd: no
Fudd: i haven’t flirted since like college
Frenchie 1: no problem with it being Paige tho? only ur awful flirting skills? 😏😏
Fudd: and i don’t like Paige like that
Fudd: no my text just didn’t send yet idiot
VB: Oh so you have no game?
Fudd: no like
Frenchie 1: yes her game is awful lmao
Fudd: um ntm???
Frenchie 1: ur too damn nonchalant Az
Ja: agreed
VB: Wait what
VB: You’re like that around your crushes too?
Fudd: no! gabby’s exaggerating
Frenchie 1: im literally not?
Frenchie 1: did u forget abt last yr’s all star or smth
Fudd: omfg not this again
VB: What happened at all star?
Fudd: literally don’t
Ja: well u gotta tell us now
Fudd: Gabby don’t
Frenchie 1: ok so
Fudd: Gabby.
Frenchie 1: first she got blackout drunk cuz she was tryna hookup with the bartender
Frenchie 1: cuz she just kept nonchalantly sipping her drinks and ended up having like 6 cocktails before midnight
Fudd: GABBY
VB: Oh so you’re hopeless is what I’m hearing
Ja: LMAO
Fudd: i am not bro
Frenchie 1: then the night after she kept looking away from this girl at the club cuz she was tryna be her little nonchalant self
Frenchie 1: and she just thought Az was actually uninterested and left 😹
Fudd: gabby stfu
Fudd: stop
Ja: AZZI BRO 😭😭😭😭
VB: I’m literally crying
Frenchie 1: and thennnn she was tryna walk all nonchalantly outta our uber the night after that cuz she thought the bouncer was hot…
Frenchie 1: and…
Fudd: gabby istg
Fudd: stop.
Frenchie 1: she tripped over her dress and faceplanted on the sidewalk !!!
Frenchie 1: she’s like very fake nonchalant but it throws ppl off yk?
Fudd: …
VB: Azzi this is wild 😭
Ja: lmaoaoa
Ja: thank god u have us
Ja: what would u do without us
Fudd: smile more
Fudd: have more hair
Fudd: be more joyful
Frenchie 1: and you’ll have all of that when u get a new gf
Ja: a gf named Paige
VB: Yeah do u and Paige talk at all rn?
Fudd: if i entertain this convo rn will u guys delete this chat
Frenchie 1: no :))
Ja: no
VB: No
Fudd: so
Frenchie 1: just answer V, girl
Fudd: okay like barely
Ja: elaborate
Fudd: i talk to her when i have to do media but like not outside of that
Fudd: so no
Azzi wasn’t lying, necessarily, just because she left out the detail that they had just interacted in the gym. Well, that’s what she told herself, at least. She couldn't think of an outright answer as to why she wasn't telling them about it, though.
VB: Patheticcc
Ja: agreed
Frenchie 1: i also agree
Fudd: im literally not into her?
Fudd: why is it pathetic? 💀
Frenchie 1: u were literally blushing earlier stop lying
Fudd: bro. i told u it was just hot in there.
Ja: hot my ass
Frenchie 1: your ass is NOT hot
Frenchie 1: but yeah cut it out Az we know she’s ur type n everything just give it a shot
Ja: bruh
Fudd: if i talk to her tomorrow
Fudd: like outside of media*
Fudd: will u all stfu
VB: No but we’ll be less annoying
Fudd: u know what?
Fudd: fine
Ja: V’s a miracle worker wow
Fudd: i’m not promising anything btw****
Frenchie 1: how come u listen to V and not me 😡
VB: Because I’m her favorite? Obv
Fudd: she’s right Gabs
Frenchie 1: i literally went to college w u???
Frenchie 1: wdym you won’t promise bruh
Fudd: V’s nicer
Fudd: cuz i don’t wanna do ts
Fudd: wait V knows abt the whole Paige thing too? why’s she in this gc in the first place???
Ja: bro i told u like everyone on the team knows abt this
Fudd: i hate yall
VB: Thank you Az ily too
Frenchie 1: Azzi take it back
Fudd: ay my timer went off im leaving
Fudd: bye bye ice bath i hate u too
Frenchie 1: Azzi bro take it back
Fudd: gotta go byeeeee
VB: 😘
Frenchie 1: 😒
Ja: bye Fudd
Frenchie 1: talk to her fr tho
Frenchie 1: u promised and we’re holding u to it
Fudd: i specifically said i don’t promise
Frenchie 1: mhm
Frenchie 1: just go get ur girl
Fudd: 🙄
Azzi stood by the tub, drying herself, with a little smile on her face.
Talk to Paige tomorrow…she could do that. Maybe after the game, if she stays that long? She wasn’t actually that upset about it, contrary to her texts.
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
“Paige? Oh, hi.”
Fuck my life.
The elevator doors had opened to show none other than Paige Bueckers standing inside.
It was 2 am. Azzi couldn’t think of why she was also awake at this ungodly hour.
Azzi had been so nervous about her game tomorrow that she just could not fall asleep. She’d tossed and turned in bed for over an hour before irritatedly throwing off the covers, getting up, and walking out of her apartment, determined to get some fresh air.
“Hi.” Paige said rather breathlessly, gaze flicking between Azzi’s eyes. Then it dropped lower, down to her outfit.
Azzi felt a blush creep up her neck as she remembered what she had on. It was a really old set of Care Bear pajamas (that had certainly seen better days) that she’d been gifted back in college. In her defense, they were really comfy. She cleared her throat a little awkwardly, “What’re you doing up so late?”
Paige looked up, “Oh, I couldn’t really sleep. Wanted some air, y’know.”
Over the course of their last few interactions, Azzi couldn’t help but notice that Paige tended to talk with her hands quite a bit, or at least that she fidgeted with them a lot while speaking. She was wringing her hands together at the moment, too.
“Wait, same. I’m nervous for the game tomorrow. I couldn't sleep either.”
"Oh, really?"
They continued making rather awkward eye contact, both rooted to their spots.
The doors of the elevator began to close, and Paige held her arm out to prevent them from shutting. “Um, you coming?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Azzi mumbled, stepping inside. She turned to lean against the corner furthest from Paige, briefly looking her up and down while Paige was occupied with the buttons.
She was in a pair of sweats that hung low on her frame and had a dark tank on, too. Azzi could make out the outlines of her nipples peeking through the fabric, despite the low lighting of the elevator. Not that she was looking.
It’s not that hot out, bruh. Her gaze moved upwards onto Paige’s exposed shoulders before making its way down her toned arms. Hmm, she’s kinda buff. She looks…hot.
“Azzi?” Paige turned her body fully towards Azzi.
Azzi blinked rapidly. “What?” Shoot. Was she saying something-
“I was asking if you wanted to walk together, for a bit,” Paige said. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to, though. No pressure,” she added, shrugging her shoulders.
Azzi blinked a few more times before answering, her voice coming out unnaturally high. “Oh, yeah, that’s fine. I’d like that.” Bro.
“Mm,” Paige grunted in response, turning towards the door.
Azzi pretended to look away too, but snuck another glance at Paige before the elevator clamored to a stop on the main floor. The doors squeaked open, and Azzi waited for Paige to step out first.
Paige just looked over at her with a confused expression, though, and Azzi stared right back.
Paige nodded towards the door, as if to say ‘you first’. Azzi smiled a bit at the casual chivalry before taking a step forward. Right as she did, though, the doors started to close again because of how long they were taking. She made a small noise in her throat as she quickly took another step forward before glancing back. Paige simply clicked the ‘open’ button and stepped out with a grin, lightly shoving Azzi’s shoulder with her own as she made her way to the front entrance, hands now in her pockets. Azzi followed behind her, biting back a smile.
The cool night’s air engulfed them as they stepped outside. Azzi was walking a few steps behind Paige since she seemed to know where she was going.
They stayed silent for a few minutes, and Azzi found that it wasn’t really an awkward silence anymore, but more so a comfortable one, with the way the wind was blowing, some birds were chirping, and some car horns could be heard in the distance. Their neighborhood certainly wasn’t the prettiest, but its sights soothed her as they continued walking.
“Where are we going?” Azzi finally asked, falling into step beside Paige, who looked over at her.
“Just up here-” she pointed forward. “I’m taking you to my favorite spot.”
Hey, she said ‘I’m taking you’, not ‘we’re going’ or something.
She pushed the thought away, instead blurting out, “Do you come here often?” What the fuck-
“Like, outside? Or like, to my spot?” Paige looked over at her, brows furrowing.
“Yes, sorry, to your spot,” Azzi said, pointing ahead and throwing on what was hopefully a normal smile.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Uh, yeah, kinda? I guess? I dunno, it just depends on the night, I guess,” she rambled, the all-too-familiar dusting of pink settling on her high cheekbones again.
Azzi felt her smile widen in amusement. The switchup? She’s…cute.
“Where else do you go when you can’t sleep?” Azzi asked as they started walking up a hill.
“Uhh…okay, maybe this is the only spot I go to,” Paige admitted, grinning. “It has a really pretty view, though, I promise. I think you’ll like it.”
Azzi glanced forward again as Paige said this, just as the skyline came into view atop the peak of the hill. She felt her jaw drop in surprise.
Paige was right. Actually, she might’ve even been underselling it. It was gorgeous. It had an absolutely stunning view of San Francisco. From the peaks of the city’s skyscrapers, all the way over to the Golden Gate Bridge. All of the light leaking from the city contrasted heavily with the night’s atmosphere and the tiny hill’s ambiance.
There was a small wooden bench perched atop the hill. It looked like it’d been there for ages, with the way Azzi could make out the wood being splintered at the edges, deep cracks running through the boards, as they got closer.
“Do you like it?” Paige asked quietly, eyes locked on Azzi, whose mouth still hung open as they came to a halt behind the bench.
She met Paige's gaze, glancing between the dark orbs of her pupils that were reflecting the city’s glow. She was smiling at Azzi...and definitely looked a bit nervous, too.
“No.” Azzi deadpanned, closing her mouth and looking back at the view with a poker face.
She saw Paige’s face fall in her periphery and quickly reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, continuing with a laugh, “I’m kidding. I love it, Paige. It really is so pretty up here.”
Paige was smiling again as she looked over at the skyline, too. “Wanna sit?” She gestured at the bench.
Azzi lifted her hand and rounded the bench, sitting on the right end before thinking, maybe I can test this…a little more, and scooching down much closer to the middle. She looked up at Paige, who hadn’t sat down yet.
She was glancing between Azzi and the bench and raised an eyebrow at her when she caught Azzi’s eye.
“Sit.” Azzi said, gesturing right next to her. This isn't too weird, right?
Paige gently shook her head, the stupid (adorable) smile still plastered on her face, and sat down a respectable distance away from Azzi. She looked at the city and wrung her hands together again.
Azzi glanced over at the city too, for a moment, before looking back down at the distance between them, breathing out a laugh. “Paige, what are you doing?”
“What?” Paige said quietly, staring determinedly forward.
“Why’re you sitting so far?”
Paige looked over again, searching Azzi’s eyes before scooting a tiny bit closer.
Azzi shook her head with a smile but didn't push it.
They sat in silence again for a moment, listening to the sounds of the city and the nature around them. Azzi saw Paige’s hands wring together extra tight before she abruptly threw her right arm up behind her, resting it against the back of the bench. It was essentially draped around Azzi now.
Azzi bit her cheeks to stop herself from smiling again as they both continued gazing at the city.
So slick, Paige.
Paige, in the absence of her other hand to fidget with, began scraping the wood behind Azzi with her fingernails.
“You went to Caltech?” Azzi cut through the silence, crossing her arms.
“Yeah, um, I did. How d’you know that?”
“Gabby told me a few nights ago.”
“Oh, okay. Wait, Gabby? She didn’t say anything else to you, did she?” Her voice came out scratchy at the end.
Azzi giggled before responding, “Mm, not much else, no…she did say you’re hella smart, though. Like, double majored ‘n shit, and got a minor too?”
Paige audibly exhaled, “I’m not that smart. But, yeah, I did do all that.”
Azzi laughed, looking over. “Do you like it here?”
“Like, Cali?”
“Yeah, that and working for the Valks.”
Paige chanced a glance at her, only to snap her head back when she noticed Azzi was already looking. She visibly swallowed, her Adam's apple bobbing up and down, as Azzi giggled softly again. “Yeah, I like it a lot. I've been here for a couple years. Oh, I’m, like, kinda young, I guess? But like not really- I dunno if anyone’s told you, yet-”
“Gabby did. She said you’re 23?”
Paige nodded.
Ooh, I can say-
“That’s not too young,” Azzi smirked when Paige seemed to have caught the insinuation, who had blushed again. “Gabby thought you’d lived in Cali your whole life, or something, I don’t really remember, though. We were kinda wine-drunk.”
Paige chuckled. “Wine-drunk already?” She added, “No, no, I’m not judging-” when she caught Azzi’s look of mock offense.
Azzi playfully rolled her eyes, shuffling a little closer to Paige on the bench and crossing her right leg over her left. Just casually getting closer. It's fine. “It was a special occasion. With fancy wine. That’s how we justified it, at least.” She giggled.
Paige laughed too. “Do you like it here, Ms. Liberty Star? Is it a good-different from New York?”
“Oh, you knew what I was like at New York, huh?” Azzi teased, leaning back a little so that her upper back made contact with Paige’s arm.
She heard the scratching sounds pause behind her, as Paige seemed to scramble to find an answer.
“Paige, I know you watched me play for the Liberty.”
Paige looked mortified. “...and how do you know that?”
“Someone mentioned it...”
“I-” She started, relenting when Azzi cocked her head. “Okay, fine, I might’ve watched you play on the Libs, yeah.”
“I know, idiot. You literally told me that before I did media the other day. Talkin’ bout my fast release ‘n shit.” Azzi laughed again, watching as Paige’s cheeks reddened further.
“Oh, yeah, um-”
“You get this flustered all the time?” Azzi leaned further back as Paige looked away again, feeling her biceps flex against her back. “It’s cute.” She added quietly, looking back towards the city as well.
Don’t got game, my ass, VB.
Paige cleared her throat and spoke after a moment, “So, did you like New York?”
“Yes…and no. There were definitely a lotta ups and downs. I had a pretty successful career with the Liberty, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Well, you know that’s not what I’m asking since you also know I used to watch you play.” Paige smiled at her, eyes crinkling. “I know you’re a Liberty legend, dude. But did you, like, enjoy New York?”
Azzi allowed her gaze to sweep across Paige’s frame as she smiled again in amusement. The switchup really is crazy. And she actually does have jokes. “Oh, whatever. Yeah, I liked it for the most part. I’ve lived in New York my whole life, basically, before going to UConn, so it’s always felt like home. It got a little boring after a bit, though, for sure.”
“Mhm, I get that. Was it nice being around your family? If they live there, I mean.”
“Yeah, um, kinda.” Azzi looked away again, clasping her hands together in her lap as her fingers began absentmindedly picking at the skin beside her thumbnail. “...my dad and I don’t really have the best relationship anymore, to be honest, so I’m kinda glad to be away from that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Paige said quietly, looking forward again, too. “Is that why you left the Liberty?”
Azzi let out a long, drawn-out sigh, counting some of the skyscrapers she could see in her head before turning her head and answering, “No, I came here cuz of the players, y’know? Like, I wanted to play with the amazing athletes here. There isn’t really another set like them-”
“Yeah, cuz Stewie’s subpar. I know you were bullshitting in the press conference, Azzi.” Paige was smirking at her now.
Well, okay, Azzi really had clocked her own shit earlier about it being an obvious lie.
“Well, like, Gabby’s good…” Her voice trailed away at Paige’s expression. “Alright, maybe it wasn’t just cuz of the players.”
The scratching sound picked up again, behind Azzi. “So why’d you really join the Valks? If you wanna say, of course. I’m sorry that one reporter was being an asshole-”
Azzi studied Paige’s features for a moment.
The sharp outline of her nose, her high cheekbones, her messy bun, her cute little purple glasses…she hardly knew Paige at all, but she felt compelled to just tell her everything, for some reason. More than she had even told Gabby about the whole situation. Paige just seemed like a chill person. Laid back. Someone you could…trust.
Paige’s gaze remained transfixed on the skyline. Her eyes were glowing, her features sculpted in the moonlight…
Azzi looked away again to focus on her breathing.
Just say it. You can do it.
“It was cuz of my ex.”
Paige noticeably froze, her body going rigid.
Azzi didn’t want to tell her the whole story. At least not right now. But she felt compelled to continue, “She kinda…ruined my life. I had to get away from all that, y’know?”
She didn’t look at Paige. Couldn’t. She felt her eyes begin to water. It had been such a sensitive subject for her to talk to even her therapist about, and tonight was no different. She sniffled.
Azzi heard some rustling beside her before feeling Paige’s thigh press up against hers. The arm Paige had slung across the back of the bench brushed against her back, too, and she cupped her hand around Azzi's shoulder, her fingernails beginning to trace light patterns through Azzi's pajama sleeve.
Azzi felt butterflies erupt in her stomach at the small gesture. Then also some guilt at the thought that she might be moving on too quickly. Fuck- what am I doing?
“We don’t need to talk about it.” Came Paige’s low, reassuring voice, though, squeezing her shoulder once before continuing her gentle ministrations down her arm.
Azzi exhaled at this, tilting her head back a bit to contain her tears.
Come on, it’s fine. You don’t owe your ex anything, remember? You can move on whenever it feels right to you.
Azzi took a deep breath before abruptly dropping her head against Paige’s shoulder, sighing softly against her warm skin. "Thank you, Paige." She whispered, her lips ghosting the blonde's collarbone.
Paige’s fingers stilled, and Azzi felt goosebumps erupt on her bare shoulder, under her cheek. But after a moment, she continued to lazily scratch up and down Azzi’s arm. Azzi felt her heart rate go up as she squeezed her hands together in her lap, suddenly unsure if she was being too…forward. And, honestly, she didn’t even know what she was doing in the first place.
She was about to lift her head when Paige let out a deep, unmistakably content sigh and dropped her head against Azzi's.
Oh.
They were both silently gazing at the city again, eyes twinkling. Azzi could feel the slow rise and fall of Paige’s chest beneath her and could hear her gentle exhales above her head, too. It grounded her.
They sat like that for a few more minutes, tangled together, the cool night air continuing to envelop them as Azzi’s breathing eventually slowed to match Paige's, her nerves flowing away.
She yawned, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as she slowly blinked her heavy eyelids, and Paige whispered, “We should head back soon.”
“Mmm,” Azzi grumbled, nuzzling her head deeper into Paige’s shoulder. The blonde's breath audibly hitched at this, and she drew her head back up, making Azzi giggle again.
She lifted her head to look over at Paige, who, surprise surprise, was beet-red. “Yeah, it’s getting late, I guess.”
Paige's eyes were shining, small specks of city light caught in her heavily dilated pupils. It was so dark now that Azzi could barely make out the soft pinkness of her lips, the wisps of her long eyelashes...
She's so pretty in the moonlight.
They made their way back to their apartments in complete silence. Comfortable silence.
She’s…really sweet.
It was the last thought Azzi remembered having before drifting off to sleep, feeling the phantom touch of Paige’s fingers tracing up and down her arm.
synopsis: sometimes love is waiting patiently at the end of a road you never planned to travel. and the person who helps you survive your darkest days becomes the reason you start looking forward to brighter ones.
cw: angst & serious illness
wc: 2k
chapter fourteen:
“I like her.”
Azzi looks up from the sink to see Paige stepping in from the back patio with a few empty wine glasses balanced carefully in her hands. The screen door creaks softly behind her. For a second, Azzi just blinks, caught somewhere between surprise and the strange relief that floods through her. She offers a small smile before dipping her attention back to the sink full of soapy water and half-submerged plates.
“Yeah?”
She slides a clean dish onto the towel spread across the counter, the porcelain clinking softly as it settles. Water drips from her fingers and she flicks it off before reaching for the next plate. She doesn’t look up right away. Somehow, that feels safer.
Paige steps closer instead of answering, her arm slipping neatly into the narrow space between Azzi and the sink to grab the plate first. It’s a familiar move, comfortable almost.
Azzi raises an eyebrow as Paige begins drying the dish. The blonde shrugs, carefully wiping the plate dry before stacking it on the counter. “Why are you in the kitchen cleaning up dinner in my house?”
Azzi rolls her eyes, but she knows why. She knows how much Paige has been juggling lately with work, caring for Emma, and handling the household tasks that exhaustion keeps her wife from doing. Her friend is running on fumes, and if Azzi can shoulder something as small as dishes, she will.
“I figured you could use the help,” Azzi says, keeping her tone light as she hands over another squeaky clean plate. Paige grips the thick black towel, her movements a little slower than usual. “Besides, Nora and Emma seem to be hitting it off just fine out there. I’m glad you two like her.”
The words are honest. Watching Nora slide into this dinner so effortlessly had loosened something in Azzi she hadn’t realized was still clenched. There was no polite distance or awkwardness. Just laughter drifting in through the open door, the sound of people who felt comfortable together. It mattered more than she wanted to admit.
“So…” Paige says, drawing it out as she sets the plate aside. She glances over, eyebrow lifting. “Are you two…?”
Azzi pulls the drain plug from the ceramic sink and watches the cloudy water spiral down, carrying away bits of food and soap bubbles alike. She wipes her hands on her jeans and leans back against the counter.
“We’re just casually dating,” she says. “Dinner, staying over when our schedules allow. It’s only been a few weeks, so no titles or anything.” She pauses, her gaze flicking toward Paige before she can stop herself. “I really like her, though. And I kind of wanted your opinion before taking it any further.”
She knows, even without looking, that Paige is absolutely smirking.
“My opinion, huh?”
Azzi nods, pointedly ignoring the teasing note in her voice. What she doesn’t say presses heavy against her ribs. That the last time she didn’t ask for an opinion, she trusted the wrong person, and found herself engaged to a woman who didn’t keep her promises. That she still wakes up some mornings braced for disappointment. That wanting something again feels reckless in a way she’s not sure she knows how to survive twice. But she keeps all of it locked inside, buried beneath layers of sarcasm and indifference because that’s how Azzi Fudd protects herself.
Paige studies her, blue eyes sharp but gentle, the way they always get when she’s paying real attention. For a second, Azzi expects her to say it. To name the fear or maybe even poke at the scar Azzi pretends doesn’t ache anymore.
But she doesn’t.
“Well,” Paige says instead, setting the towel aside, “I already told you I liked her. But if you’re asking if she’s girlfriend material… I’ve seen nothing to suggest she isn’t.”
It’s not a dramatic endorsement, the enthusiastic go for it Azzi was hoping for, but that’s not Paige’s style. She offers her advice but never pushes, always letting Azzi make her own decisions. And Azzi appreciates that Paige’s honesty is never overbearing but always solid.
Azzi smiles as Paige closes the cupboard, reaching around her for the bottle of wine. “Good to know.”
Paige snatches it first, turning back with an easy smirk. “Thanks for helping with the dishes. Now let’s head back out to our girls.”
Outside, the air is warm and fading gold. Emma looks up from where she’s bundled beneath a thick blanket, the June sun sinking low behind her. She smiles, but it looks like it takes effort.
“There you two are,” Emma says.
Paige presses a quick kiss to her wife’s forehead before settling beside her. “Azzi snuck inside to clean the dishes,” she admits, refilling Nora’s glass and Azzi’s before pouring herself only half. “I had to fight her on it, but she finally let me help.”
Nora laughs, nudging Azzi’s knee. “You should see her when we cook together. She never lets me touch the dishes.”
Azzi groans, dropping her face against Nora’s shoulder, grateful her hair hides the heat creeping up her neck.
Emma chuckles, shaking her head as she comes to Azzi’s defense. “Oh, stop it. Azzi just likes to take care of everyone.”
The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. All of them know how far Azzi will go for the people she cares about.
Then Nora smoothly redirects, seamlessly launching into a story about a patient from earlier, a combative old man who tried to bite a nurse. Laughter bubbles up again, the tension dissolving just enough.
Azzi lets herself breathe, sitting there between the people she cares about most, knowing she’d clean every dish in this house a thousand times over if it meant keeping them laughing like this a little longer.
Half an hour later, Emma shivers, the movement subtle but unmistakable as she pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Azzi notices immediately, but what catches her more is Paige’s reaction. The way her spine straightens, her entire body going alert as her gaze drops to Emma’s trembling hands.
The exhaustion etched into Emma’s features is impossible to miss now. The glow from earlier has dulled, replaced by something fragile.
Paige leans in close, her voice low. “We should go upstairs.”
Emma shakes her head, determined, lifting her chin like she’s bracing herself for an argument she doesn’t want to have. She waves Paige off, insisting without words that she’s fine, that she can stay a little longer.
Azzi watches the exchange carefully. She sees the tension tighten in Paige’s jaw, the flicker of frustration she immediately swallows down for the sake of peace. She knows it’s the same battle Paige fights every day. The one where she wants to protect Emma without smothering her, to let her feel normal without ignoring the reality of how thin the line has become.
Before Paige can press the issue, Azzi lets out an exaggerated yawn and stretches her arms high over her head, rolling her shoulders dramatically.
Nora tugs her closer. “You tired, hun?”
Azzi nods, playing her part easily as she catches the relieved look Paige shoots her. “Yeah, long practice and weight session today.”
Nora squeezes Azzi’s knee before letting her arm fall away. “Then we should probably head out. You have a big game this weekend, and you need your sleep.”
Azzi groans theatrically, the performance more for Emma than anyone else. “Alright,” she whines, pushing herself up. “Thanks for having us.”
Emma stands slowly and hugs her tight. Azzi does her best not to think about how slight she feels in her arms, how different it is from even a few months ago.
“Of course,” Emma says warmly, then turns to Nora. “It was great meeting you. I hope to see you around more often.” She throws Azzi a knowing wink.
Azzi’s mouth quirks, her mind flashing briefly to the conversation she and Paige had in the kitchen. She hopes that too, maybe more than she’s ready to admit.
“It was great meeting you both,” Nora says sincerely, leaning in to hug Emma. “Dinner was delicious, and it’s nice to finally put faces to the names Azzi talks about all the time.”
Azzi loops her arm through Nora’s as they head toward the front yard, waving goodbye. The night air is cooler now, the quiet settling in. They slip into the car, both wearing the kind of soft smiles that come from a place a calm.
“So, what do you think?” Azzi asks, fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel as she glances over. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous, dinner went well, but her chest feels oddly tight all the same.
“They’re both very sweet,” Nora says.
Something in her tone makes Azzi look at her again. There’s warmth there, but also something more measured. Thoughtful.
Azzi thinks she understands the hesitation, even if neither of them says it out loud. She doesn’t push. She just nods, exhaling slowly.
“I really like them. Emma is such a sweetheart. It’s awful what she’s going through,” Nora adds.
Hearing it out loud, especially from someone in the medical field who understands the reality of it in a way Azzi can’t, makes the weight in her chest settle heavier. She’s been holding it together for Paige, being the calm, reassuring presence no matter how scared she actually is. But the image of Emma tonight looking pale and thinner, refuses to loosen its grip. The vibrant energy that once radiated from her was dimming, fading right in front of them. Azzi doesn’t say that part out loud, though.
“Yeah,” Azzi says quietly. “I just hope it all turns out alright.”
It’s the first time she’s allowed herself to voice even a slight bit of doubt. She’s spent weeks being the beacon of optimism, keeping the doubts locked away for Paige’s sake. But with Nora, she doesn’t have to pretend. Opening up and relying on someone else unnerves her, but at the same time, there’s something freeing about having someone to lean on.
Nora’s fingers slide over hers, squeezing gently. Azzi turns just in time to feel a soft kiss brush her lips.
“It’ll be okay,” Nora says. “The doctors at that hospital are top-notch. They’ll fight for her.”
Azzi nods, though the knot in her stomach stays put. “Thanks,” she murmurs, eyes dropping to where their hands are still joined. “It’s nice having someone to talk to about all of it.”
Nora tilts her head, the fading sunlight catching the hazel in her eyes. “Well, anytime you need to talk, I’m here.”
Azzi looks up, a small grin tugging at her mouth. “Thank you. I forgot how nice it is having someone around all the time.”
Nora squeezes her hand, teasing. “So, you like having me around?”
Azzi inhales slowly, summoning her courage. “I do,” she says. “A lot. And actually… I was wondering…”
Nora watches her patiently, eyes warm beneath the orange glow of the streetlights. That quiet encouragement is enough to undo her.
The words tumble out, rushed and unfiltered. “I mean, obviously, we’re already spending all this time together, and I’m not seeing anyone else, and I don’t want to, and I assume you’re not either…” Her words trail off, eyes winding. “Well, I don’t want to assume… maybe you are, so I guess I just thought I should ask officially, because, you know, labels aren’t everything, but they also kind of are, and—”
Before she can spiral any further, Nora leans in, cutting her off with a lingering kiss. Azzi barely has time to register the warmth of it before she feels Nora’s lips curl into a smile against hers.
“I’m not seeing anyone else,” Nora murmurs, resting her forehead against Azzi’s. “And I don’t want to either.”
And just like that, something soft but steady clicks into place.
