said this on twt and even though azzi's not here, i still want to tell the universe how much pride i have in her and how inspiring she is 💗 what a great five years, fudd, will follow you to your next adventure 💗
when you guys write fics, try not to write about an mc's worst nightmare being someone elses body type:)
in the big 2026 im reading "youre not fat, youre beautiful." and its making my ass itch. like you bitches need to get it the fuck together and learn that handling sensitive topics (such as emotional abuse, body image issues etc.) requires you to be able to write something with nuance. requires more than elementary ass writing and poorly executed fatphobia.
you suck, your writing sucks, youre a fucking loser.
synopsis: azzi fudd can handle pressure on the court, but her life off it is falling apart. and so is her house. or maybe she's just looking for problems so a certain blonde contractor keeps showing up?
tags: contractor!paige x wnba!azzi, happy ending, lots of flirting, slow burn, eventual smut
cw: sexual content (minors dni), mentions of cheating, mild angst, injury
total wc: 175k
chapters:
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
nine (pt 1) // nine (pt 2)
ten
eleven
twelve
thirteen
fourteen
fifteen
sixteen
seventeen
eighteen
nineteen
twenty
epilogue
this is what i remember off the top of my head! i’m sure if you’ve been on pazzi tumblr for more than a week you’ve already read all these, but i’ll add as i remember more!
obviously have to start out with a shoutout to my GOATS @dripanddrive (hot lap) and @peach4pazzi (literally anything she writes). these two are also a big reason cyfabh exists.
also anything by @azzibueckers5, @pbaz7, @eclipscee, @hcneymooners, @azzibuckets and @imaginespazzi
okay. now in no particular order….
- frequent flyer by @bueckersburn
- repeat rewind by @535pazzi
- where’s my love and safe and sound by @lupinqs and also eternity (not pazzi) are all so well done and also emotionally fucked me up. so.
- looking down at you looking up at me by @wecrytogether
- is the moon still in love with the sun by @girliblue
- mine, all mine by timshl on ao3
- you needed me by violasun on ao3
- weren’t we the salt in the sea? by lloeysol
- gravel by @studeteer
- keeping her bright eyes focused on the coastline, waiting for you by @graybuckets
- it’s also not pazzi but pyramids by @pboogerswbb is so so good. the way she writes her characters is amazing.
do you know the name and author of the fic where paige is giving azzi princess treatment. i remember a scene where paige went to pick up azzi from the bar and carried her to ther car because her feet hurt from wearing heels, and the uconn girls were basically staring at them from the window
A/N: I hope you enjoy this one as much as I have enjoyed writing it. We are getting closer. :)
Word Count: 5.9k words
Masterlist
Azzi POV:
Azzi hadn't said another word to Paige after that moment in the car.
Her throat still ached from keeping herself together. The weight of Paige's voice, I am so fucking sorry, was still settling into her chest.
Julie had joined them a few minutes after what happened, sliding into the backseat with a loud complaint about her aching muscles. Azzi had laughed, loud and fake, while Paige just smiled tightly, murmuring something about training camp being intense.
Azzi had let herself disassociate after that.
Her brain flickered into survival mode, filing away everything from that moment into some mental folder labeled feel later.
She turned toward Julie, asked her about her plans for tomorrow, cracked a joke about Rae’s dance moves in the locker room, and did everything to drown out the lingering echo of that damn SZA song and Paige's tear-glossed eyes.
By the time they arrived at the rooftop restaurant, the others had started trickling in as well. It was great to see their new teammates dressed up, fresh-faced and obnoxiously loud, exactly the kind of energy Azzi needed to disappear into.
The place was beautiful too, warm-toned lights strung overhead, the city buzzing beneath them, music humming low in the background.
She ended up sitting between Sarah and Azurá, which turned out to be a blessing. Sarah was easy to talk to, warm and lowkey surprisingly funny.
Azurá was sharper, a little reserved at first, but once Azzi got her going about hiking routes near LA, she lit up.
They fell into easy conversation, and for a while, Azzi let herself believe she was just a rookie on a new team, at a normal team dinner, talking about everything except the person sitting two seats diagonally across the table.
But it only worked for a while, because Paige was there and even when Azzi wasn't looking, she could feel her.
She caught her in her peripheral glances laughing at something Kelsey said, clinking glasses with Cam, leaning back in her chair with that small smile at the corner of her mouth.
Paige wasn't loud tonight, did not try to be the center of attention. But Azzi noticed every shift in her posture, every time Paige reached for her drink and every moment she looked over and didn't quite meet Azzi's eyes.
And still, Azzi could not stop looking.
The team did a bonding thing at one point. They went around the table and shared a fun fact about themselves. Paige had muttered something about being able to braid hair very fast and Azzi had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her face neutral.
She knew that skill all too well, she was the reason Paige learned it at the first place.
She remembered Paige sitting cross-legged behind her in the early mornings before practices, braiding slowly at first, then speeding up once she got the pattern.
Fingers tugging gently at her scalp while some series played in the background. Paige always finished the braid by leaning over and kissing the top of her head.
Azzi had smiled at the memory, then immediately shut it down. She needed air even though they were sitting outside on a rooftop. She let the team fall deeper into drinks and desserts before slipping quietly from the table.
No one noticed, or at least, no one said anything.
She crossed to the far side of the rooftop, behind a few oversized plants in big terra cotta pots, half-hiding her from the table view. The city stretched out below her, the air felt cooler back here, touched with a salty breeze.
She leaned against the railing, closed her eyes, and finally let herself breathe. Her shoulders slumped like they had been held up by invisible strings all night. Her fingers unclenched, her jaw loosened.
God, she felt exhausted.
Not only physically, she was used to that kind of exhaustion. It was the emotional weight that made her feel like she had been fighting through war all night.
Like every laugh she had given, every story she had told and every sip of wine she had drank had been threaded with restraint.
She was acting fine in a show where everyone else had the script and she was stuck improvising.
She tilted her head back toward the sky. Let the quiet wrap around her. But even here, even in this sliver of privacy, Paige lingered on her mind.
The apology, that look on her face, the way she had leaned into her hand like it still meant something.
And Azzi knew that she, herself, hadn't stopped meaning it, not even after Paige broke her heart.
She pressed a hand to her chest, right over the spot where it still ached and just stood there, eyes shut, breathing in the city and the distance and the pieces of love she hadn't figured out how to let go of yet.
Azzi didn't know how long she stood there before the footsteps approached.
She almost didn't turn, figured it might be someone looking for the bathroom or another teammate sneaking off for a phone call. But the steps stopped just behind her, and then came a familiar voice, quiet and kind.
"Mind if I join?"
Azzi glanced over her shoulder and found Cam already halfway into a crouch beside her, long legs folding easily as she sat down at the sofa near the edge of the rooftop. Her eyes were on the horizon, not on Azzi which helped.
Azzi hesitated, then smiled to her best abilities.
"Sure," she said. "Just needed a little air."
Cam nodded, like she understood. She didn't say anything else at first. Just sat there with her, both of them gazing out toward the Pacific.
The city lights starting to flicker on one by one as the sun dipped lower, casting deep purples and burnt orange across the skyline.
It was peaceful and Azzi finally let her shoulders drop a little.
"I hate eating alone," Cam said after a while, voice calm and conversational. "My boyfriend was out of town this week, and I didn't feel like cooking, so I texted Paige. Asked if she wanted to grab dinner together."
Azzi blinked, startled for a second. The last thing she expected was for the moment to pivot like that, from a shared silence to… Paige.
"Oh," Azzi said, cautious. "Cool."
Cam didn't seem to notice her hesitation or maybe she did and just let it pass.
"We went to this new Italian place. Their cacio e pepe was amazing. I can definitely recommend."
Azzi nodded vaguely, still unsure where this was going.
Cam leaned back a little, elbows resting on the stone ledge. "We ended up staying there for a couple of hours. Just talking and catching up. It has been a while. We ended up talking about my ACL tear and how hard the rehab was. I know that I do not have to explain that to you."
Azzi turned to glance at her then but Cam was still watching the ocean.
"We also spent quite a bit of time talking about the mental aspect of it. I was in a really bad place, couldn't see my future clearly," she said simply. "I almost ended things with my boyfriend during that time. I thought I was dragging him down. He kept showing up, but I kept pushing him away."
Azzi's throat tightened but she didn't say anything. She started to understand the connection.
Cam continued, soft and steady. "Eventually I got into therapy. Like… real therapy. Not the I will show up once a month kind, but actual deep discussions multiple times a week. And slowly, I started figuring out how to let someone stay. How to stop apologising for struggling and how to ask for help without thinking it made me weak. And it worked, he and I… we found our way back."
She glanced sideways now. Not directly at Azzi, just enough.
"I told Paige all of that," Cam said. "And she just… sat there. She barely touched her food, but she listened to every word. And when I finished, she said, I wish I had asked for help like that before it was too late."
Azzi felt her pulse quicken, her grip on the railing tightened. She didn't want to cry again, not here and not now.
Cam finally turned fully toward her, voice low. "She asked for this trade for a reason."
Azzi’s head snapped to her hearing that, eyes meeting hers. "She ...what?"
"She asked for it herself," Cam repeated gently. "She didn't tell you?"
Azzi shook her head.
"She asked for this trade," Cam continued gently. "And yeah, sure, LA is a good fit for her on the court, but I think we both know that's not all this is. She clearly came here because she wanted to fight for things she gave up on before."
The words settled over Azzi slowly, like warmth spreading across chilled skin. She hadn't known that, not for sure. Part of her had still wondered if Paige ended up here by chance.
"I know this is confusing," Cam said softly. "And heavy and way too much to process over team dinner and wine tonight. But I hope..." she paused, voice steady, "...I hope you give her the chance to explain what happened. Not for her. For you. You owe yourself that much."
Azzi didn't answer right away. Her heart was thudding loud in her ears, and every breath felt like it might shatter her all over again. But she didn’t pull away from it, didn’t put the walls back up.
Cam stood slowly, stretching her legs, brushing off her jeans. "Either way… I am here. For both of you. If or when you need to talk. Also if you just need someone to sit next to again."
She paused, then added with a small grin, "Also, I have a really great therapist recommendation. Just saying."
That made Azzi let out a breath of a laugh, quiet but real.
"Thanks Cam," she said finally, voice small but steady.
Cam nodded. "Anytime."
She gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading back toward the group. Azzi stayed behind with her mind only focusing on one message.
Paige had come here on purpose.
Paige POV:
Paige immediate noticed Azzi slipping away from the table even though she was clearly trying not to be noticed.
She was quiet and smooth, but Paige's eyes tracked her anyway. She tried not to be obvious about it, didn't want to make a scene or draw attention, but when five minutes passed and Azzi still hadn't come back, Paige's leg started bouncing under the table.
All the laughter conversations became a background noise as she scanned the rooftop for her. She finally spotted Azzi's silhouette near the edge, on the far side, away from the warmth of the group.
Her shoulders were hunched slightly, hands on the railing. Paige started to rise, already half-standing, when a gentle touch on her arm made her pause.
Cam.
"I got it," Cam said quietly, already reading the situation.
Paige looked at her, unsure, maybe even a little defensive, but Cam just smiled knowingly. "Let me check on your girl, P."
There was no malice, no teasing in Cam's voice, just gentle understanding. Still, Paige opened her mouth to object, maybe out of habit, to correct her. To say she is not mine anymore. But all that came out was a nod.
"Thanks," she murmured instead.
She watched Cam walk away until both of them disappeared from her line of sight. Paige exhaled slowly, torn between staying where she was and craning her neck to follow them.
Her stomach was still twisted up when she turned back to the table, only to see Kelsey already watching her, raising an eyebrow and motioning her over with a subtle nod of her head.
Paige dragged herself over, dropping down next to her with the kind of caution reserved for a coach's office after a bad practice.
"Don't start, Plum," she muttered.
Kelsey ignored that entirely. "So what are your intentions with our rookie?"
Paige's eyebrows shot up. "What?"
"You heard me." Kelsey tilted her head again, sharper this time. "I am asking what you plan to do about her."
Paige blinked, trying to gauge if this was a joke. But Kelsey's expression didn't budge. She stared back at her, unbothered, sipping her drink like she had all the time in the world.
Paige sat back with a sigh, rubbing the back of her neck. "You don't have to worry about it. I will make sure that the team dynamic stays clean. I am not gonna mess anything up."
There was a pause. Then Kelsey's voice softened a touch. "That's not what I hoped you would say."
That caught Paige off guard.
She had known that their history wasn't really a secret in the basketball world. There had been assumptions about them even if they called themselves best friends. That was the easier version while being teammates in college.
Unless you were in their circle, no one ever said it out loud.
But clearly Kelsey had been paying closer attention. Close enough to realise they weren't just being professional these days, that something had cracked between them, friends or more.
That they clearly weren't close anymore, and it wasn't just about keeping a low profile.
And for some reason… Kelsey wanted her to fix it.
That caught her off guard more than it should have. She lowered her voice even further, almost to a whisper.
"I am gonna try to earn her trust back. But basketball comes first… for both of us. Our careers are on the line and I can't screw this up for her. For us."
Kelsey nodded, the corner of her mouth tilting up. "Okay. Then I will keep an eye on her. 'Til you can."
A smirk tugged at Paige's mouth. "Already falling for the People's Princess charm?"
Kelsey rolled her eyes, but didn't deny it. "Don't act like you didn't do the same thing."
Paige huffed a quiet laugh, staring at her drink. "Yeah," she said. "Guess I never stood a chance either."
By the time the clock crept past 10 p.m., the rooftop had started to thin out.
The week had been long, filled with intense practices, nonstop media, and a constant hum of adrenaline that only now was starting to wear off. Conversations still floated in the air, but it had dulled down, softened into yawns and slow blinks.
Some players hugged goodbye with quick hugs and tired eyes, others lingered a while longer, not quite ready to end the night.
Paige stayed where she was, her mocktail half-finished in her hand, gaze occasionally flicking across the table.
She tried not to be obvious about it, but every now and then, especially as the wine settled deeper into Azzi's smile, she found herself watching her.
Whatever Cam said to Azzi, it worked.
Azzi was noticeably different after coming back to the table. Her shoulders were looser, her laughter easier. The longer the night went on, the more she leaned in, not toward Paige directly, but toward the group, toward the bonding.
And sometimes, just sometimes, Paige caught her looking back. Not by accident and not only for a brief second, but like she couldn't look away for too long.
Paige didn't press it, she just waited. Calm on the outside, even as something restless stirred quietly beneath her ribs.
Julie was the one who finally broke the lull, weaving back to their part of the table with flushed cheeks and a little grin. She leaned into the space between Paige and Azzi, catching both their eyes at once.
"I am thinking about heading out with Sarah for one more drink," she said lightly. "You are welcome to join. Totally up to you."
Paige didn't answer right away. Instead, she looked at Azzi who was already looking back at her.
Their eyes locked.
It was warm and something steady that settled low in Paige's chest. Azzi gave the tiniest shake of her head, almost imperceptible, but it told Paige everything she needed to know.
"I think I am good," Paige said, voice low, like it had been her decision all along.
Azzi nodded. "Yeah, same. Think I am calling it."
Julie smiled like she had seen this coming, squeezed Paige's shoulder, and disappeared into the night.
Not long after, it was just the two of them walking side by side down a quiet stretch of sidewalk, the city cooling around them. The breeze was gentler now, brushing over them as they passed under flickering street lamps.
For a moment, Paige forgot to feel cautious. Azzi's curls caught the light, and her steps stayed in sync with Paige's like they used to.
It felt effortless.
Paige could almost pretend that nothing had changed. That they were still just two girls stumbling out of a party, shoulders brushing, the air between them thick with something unspoken and familiar.
But it wasn't the same anymore.
Her hands were clenched tight inside her pockets to stop herself from reaching out. Her heart was thudding against the cage of her ribs like it hadn't quite learned how to be careful again.
And all Paige could think about was how stupid she had been.
How deeply, irrevocably foolish she was to let this slip away, to let her slip away when this right here, this life, this city, this quiet late-night walk with Azzi at her side, was all they had talked about for years.
Back then, it had been the dream they clung onto when the days felt too heavy and the pressure of being who they were started to crack at the edges.
They used to whisper it to each other like a promise, spoken into the backs of necks and the soft space between shoulder blades and shared pillows in dark rooms.
One day, we won't have to hide. One day, I will take you anywhere you want. One day, this gets to be ours.
She used to tell Azzi she would spoil her. And she had meant it, not in the cliché way people throw that word around, but in the real, rooted way that meant I see you, I treasure you, and I want the world to rearrange itself around your happiness.
Paige wanted to take her to midnight movies and overpriced bakeries and hidden bookstores with coffee that tasted like lavender and cinnamon.
She wanted to kiss her in public, hold her hand without a second thought, watch her try on clothes she didn't need and buy them for her anyway.
She wanted to treat Azzi like the princess she always was.
And now here they were. Azzi was right next to her, but Paige couldn't touch her. She couldn't lean over and rest her head on her shoulder, couldn't press a kiss into her cheek and feel her smile against her lips.
All she had was the distance Azzi allowed, and the ache that settled behind her ribs when she realised how far away that version of them still was.
She kept her hands buried deep in her pockets, fingers twitching restlessly, trying to keep all that longing contained. And still, every step beside Azzi felt like falling in love all over again. It was a reflex she hadn't unlearned, no matter how much time had passed or how badly she had messed it all up.
Even when this was all her fault.
Why did she let her go? Why did she pull away when she should have held tighter? Why did she let her own fear dictate her silence and let distance calcify what could have been repaired?
And now the life they had dreamed about was finally here, laid out before them, but Paige had no idea how to reach for it again without shaking.
And Azzi… Azzi was right there, her expression unreadable in the low light, her body relaxed but her hands tucked into the back of her pants. Paige didn't know what she was thinking. If she was remembering the same late-night talks, the same whispered plans. If she felt the same ache.
But God, Paige hoped she did.
Because if Azzi asked, if she turned right now and said show me what you learned from your mistake, Paige would drop everything.
She would find a way to rewrite the stars, the whole season, the last nine months just to get one more shot at being the girl who got to love Azzi out loud.
Azzi POV:
By the time Azzi came back to the table, everything felt just a little lighter.
Cam hadn't said anything groundbreaking. She didn't give some magical fix, but just talking, hearing someone name the thing out loud, had helped.
It loosened something in her chest, made it easier to sit down again without feeling like she had to brace herself every time Paige moved or spoke or laughed too loud close to her.
She sipped the wine Julie had left in front of her. She let herself laugh at one of Kelsey's dumb stories and leaned into Sarah's shoulder without thinking.
She let her body relax into the buzz of the rooftop, the warmth of good company, and the slight haze of alcohol working its way through her veins.
But then she made the mistake of letting herself look at Paige again.
It was stupid, honestly, how fast it hit her. How intense it still was. One second she was laughing at something Kelsey said and the next, her gaze drifted across the table and landed on Paige.
And it was like every nerve in her body pulled taut all at once.
She didn't mean to stare, she hadn't let herself all night. Every time Paige moved, every time her voice slipped through the noise to make someone laugh, Azzi had instinctively looked away, afraid of what it might do to her if she really took her in.
But now the alcohol had softened that discipline.
It blurred the line between smart and reckless, and suddenly it was like her eyes had a mind of their own, drinking in every single detail they had been starved of.
Paige looked stupidly good.
Her black tank top clung in places Azzi had memorised too well, hinting at the curves and planes of muscle she used to trace lazily with her fingers on mornings they didn't want to get out of bed.
Her slightly tan legs stretched out beneath the table, long and lean and relaxed, crossed casually. Her chain kept catching the lights above them, glinting every time she tipped her head back and laughed.
Which she was doing more and more as the night wore on, her smile wide and easy.
Azzi's stomach flipped at the sight of it. Paige's eyes crinkled in the corners. It was so painfully familiar still.
It wasn't just attraction she felt, it was hunger. Her eyes moved lower, lingered longer than they should have. On the slope of Paige's shoulder, the dip in her collarbone, the way her fingers curled loosely around her drink. The little scar on her wrist that Azzi had kissed a hundred times.
Everything was the same and still, everything was different. And none of it was hers anymore, not that her body seemed to care.
She kept her face mostly blank, or at least she hoped she did, but she could feel the heat rising in her chest, spreading up her neck.
She looked away, then looked back too quickly. Tried to sip her wine like it might distract her, but it didn't.
Paige was magnetic and that old gravity was still there, pulling at her like a tide she didn't have the strength to resist.
And when they finally said goodnight to the rest of the team, when the rooftop noise faded behind them and it was just the two of them walking side by side into the night, Azzi could barely keep it together.
Her heart was already pounding, but not with anxiety this time.
It was heat and need and want. That same buzz that had always lived in her chest when Paige was near. It felt hot and insistent and impossible to ignore.
Every step they took together, every unspoken inch of space between their bodies, was making it worse. She could feel the warmth radiating off Paige, feel the faint brush of her arm every few strides, and it was driving her crazy.
She should have been thinking about everything that had gone wrong, about the fallout and the heartbreak.
But she wasn't.
Not with the wine still humming in her blood and the streetlights glowing soft and yellow. Not while Paige was walking next to her like no time had passed at all.
Right now, all she could think about was how badly she still wanted her.
Her body remembered everything. How Paige used to run hot like a furnace, how good it felt to fall asleep with her thigh slotted between Azzi's, her hands always knowing where to go.
Her brain could somewhat rationalise the breakup. It could remind her why they didn't make it, but her body didn't give a damn.
Her body still wanted Paige, desperately.
She wanted to feel Paige's hand on the small of her back. She wanted to reach over and curl her own fingers around Paige's wrist, tug her closer and feel her body slot against her own.
As if they hadn't spent the last nine months pretending they didn't still fit.
She wanted to grab Paige by the collar of that stupid tank top and kiss her until they forgot why they ever stopped. And God, it wasn't fair that Paige could still look like that and Azzi couldn't touch her. Couldn't have her.
The thoughts came fast, unfiltered.
What if I just reached for her hand? What if I pressed up against her, right here, in the middle of the street? What if I kissed her before I could change my mind? Would she stop me? Would she kiss me back? Would we make it to the car or would we just…
She glanced sideways quickly. But not quick enough to miss how Paige's jaw was tense, how her hands were shoved deep into the pockets of her shorts like she was afraid they might betray her too.
She looked like she was trying not to look at Azzi.
That realisation only made it worse. Because Azzi knew that meant she was thinking about it too.
Azzi's hand twitched at her side, fingers curling into a fist, just to keep herself from acting on it. She bit the inside of her cheek and tried to slow her breathing.
Then, like the universe was trying to cool her down, a breeze picked up and cut straight through her. She shivered. Her top had been cute in theory but was clearly not meant for the drop in temperature at night.
She should have taken that jacket...
She tried not to show it, tucked her arms tighter across her chest, pressed her biceps in and kept walking like everything was fine. When they reached the car, Paige unlocked it without a word and opened her door before sliding into the driver's seat.
Then Paige reached behind her seat, pulled out a worn grey hoodie, and set it gently in Azzi's lap.
Paige, of course, noticed.
Azzi stared at it for a second, her throat tightening. She recognised the hoodie immediately. Soft and faded, sleeves stretched out from years of use, a faint scent of cedar and whatever detergent Paige had always used.
The smell hit her so hard it was almost stupid. She didn't question it though, she just pulled it on. Slowly, like she needed to savour it.
"Thanks," she said quietly, voice raspier than she meant it to be, her fingers tugging the sleeves down past her hands.
Paige gave a small nod, eyes already forward. "Anytime."
The car rolled out into the street. With gospel music playing low, Azzi let her head fall back against the seat, eyes half-closed, nerves fried and heart still racing.
She didn't mean to speak again, but the words slipped out anyway.
"Tonight was fun," she said softly, almost surprised by her own voice. She saw Paige glance at her, just briefly. Azzi kept going, a little bolder now. "You and Kelsey didn’t have to do all that. It was really sweet."
Paige's voice was soft. "Just wanted to make sure we all got a night together. Before the roster is set and things change."
Azzi turned her head slightly. Paige looked calm, but her jaw was still tight. Her fingers flexed on the steering wheel like she was holding something in. Azzi bit her lip, suddenly needing to know.
"Can I ask you something?"
Paige nodded. "Yeah, of course."
Azzi hesitated, but the wine made her brave. "Did you know?" she asked. "That I was going to be traded here. Before you signed?"
Paige's hands on the wheel stilled completely, her knuckles pale where they wrapped the leather. For a beat, she didn't answer. Azzi stared straight ahead, biting the inside of her cheek.
She almost said never mind. Almost walked it back. But then Paige took a slow, quiet breath and nodded once, gaze still on the road.
"Yeah," she said simply. "I did."
Azzi blinked, her heart thudding a little too loud in her ears.
"I called my agent the night of the draft," Paige added after a moment, her voice softer this time, almost cautious. "Asked him to find a way to make it happen. That if there was a way… I needed to be here."
Azzi blinked again, her eyes burned suddenly, from heat or wine or something else entirely. She turned her head slowly to look at Paige.
And that's when she saw it.
Not the usual restraint, not the tension Paige had been wearing around her all week. Her profile was lit only by passing streetlights, but it was enough to catch the open lines of her expression.
There was no performance in it, no careful calculation. Just… softness. The kind that made Azzi's stomach twist.
Paige's mouth was slightly parted, like she had been ready to say more but decided against it. Her eyes, still on the road, looked almost shy. Vulnerable in a way Azzi hadn't seen in a long time.
Like she was waiting for a rejection.
And suddenly, Cam's voice echoed back in her mind.
"She clearly came here because she wanted to fight for things she gave up on before."
Azzi hadn't wanted to believe it or maybe she had been too afraid to hope. But now Azzi could finally see it.
Here was Paige, fingers still curled loosely around the steering wheel, jaw flexing like she was holding back everything she actually wanted to say to her.
Paige hadn't just known about the trade, she had asked for it. She had chosen this on purpose. Chose to be near Azzi, even knowing that she will not be welcomed back with open arms.
Azzi turned back toward the window, heart pounding now for a different reason entirely. The hum of the city outside faded, all she could hear was her own heartbeat and the quiet, patient space Paige was giving her.
Because Paige had been clearly waiting.
Not just for this drive, not just tonight. She had been waiting since day one of training camp. She has been letting Azzi have her space.
Paige was letting her decide if she wanted to open that door again.
Azzi sat with that for a long moment, the weight of it shifting inside her until it stopped feeling heavy and started feeling like something she didn't want to carry alone anymore.
She didn't want to avoid this. She didn't want to keep playing pretend. Whatever this thing was, this unfinished, half-held, still-burning thing between them, she didn't want to run from it anymore.
So she swallowed. And when she spoke, her voice came out quiet, but certain.
"I have something early tomorrow," she said, not looking at her this time. "But after that… I am free. If you want to talk."
There was a beat of stunned silence, just long enough for Azzi to question whether Paige had heard her.
Then Paige turned to her so fast it was almost funny. Her eyes wide, like she hadn't expected Azzi to say that out loud, like she had been bracing herself for another shutdown, another silent wall.
"You sure?" Paige asked, barely above a whisper. She didn't sound skeptical though, she sounded hopeful. Like she wanted to reach across the console and touch her but didn't trust her hands yet.
Azzi finally looked over, and the corner of her mouth twitched, not quite a smile but something close. "Yeah," she said. "I am sure."
Paige nodded once, quickly, like she couldn't get the words out fast enough. "Okay. Yeah. I will be around. Write me when you are done."
The eagerness in her voice was barely contained. It was tucked just beneath the softness, like she had been holding her breath for days-
She finally exhaled.
Azzi went quiet again, but not in a closed-off way. More like… she needed a second to feel what it meant that the door was open again. That she herself had opened it.
When they pulled up to her building, she reached for the zipper of the hoodie without thinking, but Paige stopped her with a quiet, "Hey, keep it."
Azzi paused.
"You still need to get inside," Paige added with a tiny smirk that didn't quite hide how serious she was.
Azzi let out the smallest breath of laughter and shook her head. She opened the door but didn't step out yet. Her fingers curled over the frame as she hesitated, not ready to let go of the quiet comfort between them.
They didn't say anything at first, just stared at each other. It felt like they were suspended in the thick silence, both of them leaning in the smallest bit, like they could meet in the middle and fall into something old and familiar and dangerous.
Paige's mouth parted like she wanted to say something, maybe even move, maybe close the last inches and pull her in.
God, Azzi could feel the warmth of it already, the ghost of a hug that would have undone her, but neither of them crossed the line.
Azzi blinked once, slow and heavy, and said, "Goodnight, Paige."
Her voice barely more than a whisper, but loaded.
Paige's eyes didn't leave hers as she nodded, soft and steady. "Night, Azz."
That was it, Azzi stepped out into the night, hoodie wrapped tight around her. She didn't look back, but she felt Paige's eyes on her the whole way up the steps.
She knew that they were full of something she wasn't sure she could carry yet but did't want to ignore anymore.
It wasn't until she stepped inside and the lock clicked behind her that she let out the breath she had been holding.
Later, curled up in her bed with the hoodie still wrapped around her, Azzi didn't try to stop the thoughts anymore.
She let herself remember the way Paige had looked at her, let herself feel the weight of those blue eyes still following her everywhere, still brushing her skin like a touch she hadn't gotten.
And for the first time in months, she let herself fall asleep thinking about her. Not the pain, not the questions, just Paige.
A/N: Okay, I promise it's mostly going to be uphill from now on. At least that is the plan. :)
Word Count: 6.1k words
Masterlist
Paige POV:
Paige hadn't stopped smirking since she stepped away from Azzi at the facility.
She couldn't help it, her face just kept slipping back into that same crooked little grin every time her brain reminded her that Azzi was riding with her tonight.
Azzi had texted her the address and even an extra message saying "Let me know when you’re here".
It was nothing crazy, no indication of anything, but to Paige it meant everything.
She could have cried from happiness. But that wouldn't exactly be a very nonchalant final boss move from her. So instead, she called her stylist, Brittany, in full panic mode.
Brittany answered like usual, unbothered, sipping something green from a Mason jar.
"What's up Paigey? You don't need me until next week," she said, squinting at the screen. "Did you finally agree to the panel fit..."
"I need an outfit now."
There was a pause, a long one. Brittany tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "Okay… dramatic much. What's the emergency? What are we doing?"
"I need to look good. Not red carpet good, not photo op good. Good-good."
Brittany blinked, then slowly set her drink down. "... Are you going on a date?"
"No," Paige said way too fast. Then added, "Kind of. Not really. It's just dinner with the team. But Azzi is gonna be there. And I am picking her up. She agreed to drive with me."
There was silence for a few seconds. Then Brittany leaned closer to the screen and gave her the most painfully smug look Paige had ever seen.
"You should have led with that, dumbass."
Ten minutes later, Paige had already rejected three outfit ideas, one too try-hard, one too tight, one that she thought made her look like a teenage boy from 2010.
"No," she groaned, tossing a hoodie aside. "I don't want her to think I am trying too hard."
Brittany rolled her eyes dramatically. "You are trying too hard. That's the whole point. You fumbled. She owes you nothing. And now she is giving you fifteen uninterrupted minutes of car time to remind her why she liked your dumb face in the first place. So yes, we are trying too hard."
Paige flopped onto her bed. "Can't I just be… effortless?"
"You can't even spell effortless right now."
Paige gave her the finger, but Brittany just grinned wider.
Eventually, they landed on the perfect look. A black crop top under a loose white button-down, baggy ripped jeans, crisp white sneakers, and high socks. Casual enough to play it cool, but undeniably hot.
She added a few accessories but kept it simple. She slicked her hair back into her iconic messy low bun.
"You know what you look like?" Brittany said, holding her phone up for one final once-over. "You look like someone who is ready to woo her woman all over again. Now spray the perfume. The one she likes."
Paige hesitated. "Isn't that a bit too much?"
"Spray. The. Perfume. Bueckers."
The scent hit instantly, tugging something in her chest loose. Fresh citrus, warm spice, and that deep, rugged wood that always seemed to sink into her skin and linger long after the night ended.
This wasn't some generic cologne Paige tossed on casually, she used it intentionally every single time.
It was the one Azzi went absolutely feral over.
Azzi never responded to anything the way she responded to this scent and that reaction was always immediate, almost instinctual. Paige only wore it when she wanted to see Azzi lose that calm, composed look in less than a minute.
One whiff and her girl was tugging Paige closer by the belt loops, whispering threats and promises against her neck.
One night, Paige hadn't even made it past the hallway in their building before Azzi had her pinned to the wall.
"I swear you wear this one on purpose, you want me to go crazy for you," Azzi's voice had been wrecked, teasing but already half gone with need, and Paige had just nodded because of course she had.
She always knew exactly what she was doing when she put it on.
Paige had other scents, nicer ones maybe, ones she wore to events and media days. But she saved this one for when she wanted Azzi to lose that calm control and feel it all. She pulled out this one whenever she needed to remind Azzi of exactly how far gone they both could get for each other, and how there had never really been anyone else who could pull that reaction from them.
And tonight, that's exactly what she needed. She needed Azzi to breathe it in and remember, not just how it used to be, but how it still could be.
She capped the bottle slowly, fingers shaking just a little. If Azzi opened that door, Paige was going to walk through it and make sure she never forgot how it felt to want her. How it felt to have her.
She left her apartment in Playa del Rey early, adding enough buffer to account for the usual LA chaos. But of course, today of all days, the roads were clear.
The universe was clearly mocking her.
She pulled up in front of Azzi's building with fifteen minutes to spare. There was no way she was going to knock early. She wasn't that desperate.
So she stayed in the car, shifted in her seat, and tried to pretend she wasn't overthinking everything. Her hand hovered for a moment, then dropped into her lap with a sigh.
After two minutes of trying to stare out the window like a chill, detached human being, she gave up and unlocked her phone.
The initial wave of reactions had been exactly what she had expected.
Chaotic.
The usual sports accounts had their think pieces ready within hours. Fans she had never met acted like they knew her personally, like they knew her motives.
Some welcomed her to LA with open arms. Others... not so much.
Words like "washed" and "overrated" kept popping up. One too many people accused her of chasing clout, of using LA to stay relevant.
She had seen enough to know the algorithm would eat her alive if she stuck around. So she deleted the app. That had worked, until tonight.
Because now, sitting outside Azzi's apartment with time to kill and way too many nerves crawling under her skin, the curiosity won. She unlocked her phone, redownloaded Instagram, and went straight to the Sparks profile.
There it was.
Posted 32 minutes ago by @la_sparks:
🎥 PAZZI IS BACK 🔥
From USA U-16 ➡️ to UConn NCAA Champions ➡️ and now ready to build a legacy with us.
This is only the beginning.
#WNBA #TrainingCamp #SparksSeason
She tapped the reel. The music kicked in first.
It was a bit too cinematic, a slow build with sharp beats. It was a clean, rapid-cut montage from training camp earlier that day. Paige feeding Azzi the ball, Azzi catching it in rhythm, rising, releasing and bucket.
A few seconds later, Paige appeared again, driving hard to the rim, kicking it back out, and Azzi drilling another three.
There was a shot of them jogging back on defence together, their movements perfectly in sync.
Another clip showed them breaking into easy laughter after some drill, Paige bumping her shoulder into Azzi's, Azzi tossing her a smirk in return. There was a high five that was followed with a slow motion of eye contact between them.
A look that, if you knew what to look for, said more than any caption ever could.
She watched it once, then again. And two more times after that. By the fourth watch, she wasn't really focused on the basketball anymore.
She was focused on the way Azzi looked at her after the made shot.
Her smile always stretched just a little wider when Paige was the one passing her the ball. They moved around each other on the court intuitively.
They looked like them again.
Relief washed over Paige seeing that. The basketball was always supposed to be the easy part, but even she had been scared that too much had changed. That the distance and the silence and the heartbreak had stretched too far across the court.
But watching that look in Azzi's eye, Paige knew. The game was still theirs.
Whatever else was broken between them, this part wasn't. And she hoped it could be a good start to rebuild the rest.
And then, even though she knew it was a terrible idea, Paige scrolled down. She opened the comments.
@wbbqueens: okay sorry but this energy is not platonic
@underratedrookies: no because look at the LOOKS they give each other like please we have been watching this since 2017 😭
@azzisbiggestfan: didn't she not go to ANY UConn games last season? and Azzi didn't even visit Dallas once… I thought they were done??
@uconns4life: @azzisbiggestfan no cause now Im not sure they did… they werent at each others games but THIS? nah theyre still in it
@sportswithkay: everyone SHUT UP pazzi are canon again
Paige let the phone fall into her lap and leaned her head back against the seat, eyes closing.
People had always seen it. The way she and Azzi moved together on the court and the way they looked at each other off the court. That unspoken chemistry between them had always been visible, even when they tried to play it cool.
And now, after no appearances at each other's games, no comments or likes on posts, there they were, side by side in a video reel, smiling and syncing up like nothing had ever been broken.
Of course the fans would notice and start connecting the dots. It was never going to be just their story. It had always belonged, at least in part, to everyone watching.
It was another layer they had to figure out. How to be them again in a world that already had a version of their story. A version that didn't quite match where they were now.
Her phone buzzed softly in her hand, dragging her out of her spiral.
AZZI
06.12 p.m.
Ready when you are.
After sending off the I am here text, Paige stepped out of the car and leaned casually against the hood. At least casual was the goal.
She had spent five minutes before leaving her apartment rehearsing this exact posture in the mirror, trying to nail that effortlessly cool, unbothered look. It felt decent in the bathroom but not so much here in action.
She crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. Tapped her fingers against her jeans before catching herself and forcing them still. Took a deep breath that didn't calm her down at all.
Two full minutes passed before she heard the door open with a soft click.
She immediately looked up and froze.
Azzi stepped onto the curb like something out of a slowed-down highlight reel.
She wore baggy, washed-out jeans that sat perfectly on her hips, paired with a cropped black top that Paige immediately, viscerally recognised.
It hugged her curves in all the ways Paige remembered without even trying. Her braids weren't tied back tonight, just loose and soft around her shoulders, catching the last traces of sunlight like it had been planned that way.
Paige could feel her brain short-circuit. Her jaw might have dropped a little.
It wasn't fair to look that beautiful.
If they were still together, Paige would have already closed the distance. She would have reached for her hand, leaned in, and whispered something about being late just to see that eye roll she loved so much.
And Azzi would have played along, pretending to be annoyed, but smiling against Paige's lips the second they were out of view.
But that wasn't where they were anymore.
They weren't dating. They weren't even close to being back together. And teammates, no matter how much history they had between them, definitely didn't get to press each other against apartment walls just because one of them happened to show up looking like that on a regular Thursday night.
Azzi cleared her throat softly.
The subtle little cue she always used when Paige started zoning out in film sessions or team meetings. It was unmistakable, a gentle nudge back to reality, and it worked instantly.
Paige blinked, suddenly aware that Azzi had crossed the distance between them without her even noticing.
"Oh, shit. Sorry," Paige muttered, hand flying up to the back of her neck. Her skin felt hot already, the flush creeping in fast. "Hi."
"Hey," Azzi said, her voice quiet but kind. She stood there like she hadn't just completely short-circuited Paige's entire nervous system.
The silence that followed was… loaded.
Paige's instinct was to close the space between them, to reach out, to wrap Azzi in her arms and pretend for just one second that nothing had changed. That they were still them.
But Azzi didn't move and as much as it hurt, Paige knew she couldn't be the one to reach first. Not this time.
So instead, Paige circled around to the passenger side and opened the door. "Here you go," she said, keeping it light. No princess and no playful wink like she used to.
She figured she would earn that back later. Maybe if Azzi smiled at her first. Azzi gave a small nod, eyes unreadable, and slid into the seat without a word.
Paige got in on the driver's side and pulled up Julie's address on her phone.
Seven minutes away. Seven whole minutes of sitting next to Azzi in a car that suddenly felt way smaller than usual.
She started the engine, adjusted the mirror, and then immediately regretted breathing because Azzi's perfume hit her like a memory she wasn't ready for.
Vanilla and something citrusy, whatever new scent Azzi had switched to recently. Of course she smelled amazing and that clearly messed with her brain.
The silence settled in fast. It wasn't awful, just… noticeable. The kind where both people are clearly thinking too much.
She wanted to say something, anything, to make the air feel normal again. A dumb joke, maybe. A story from practice. Something light and easy.
But every sentence that floated to the top of her brain felt off. She didn't want to fake ease, not with Azzi. And she definitely didn't want to risk breaking the fragile calm they had managed to settle into by steering too deep too fast.
Out of the corner of her eye, Paige caught Azzi typing on her phone. Quick and focused with a fast-tapping rhythm that meant it wasn't just idle scrolling.
Paige's eyes flicked toward it instinctively before she yanked them back to the road. She couldn't see the screen and she told herself she didn't want to. But that wasn't entirely true.
Because of course she wanted to know who Azzi was texting. What had her locked in like that. Was it someone else? A group chat? Was it about her?
Stop. You are spiralling again. You need to chill, Bueckers.
She drummed her fingers against the wheel and opened her mouth.
"So… did you..." Nope. Not that.
She exhaled through her nose and gave up. She reached for the display. Paige decided to let the music step in where her words had failed.
Soft R&B eased into the car, mellow and slow. The playlist she put on when she didn't want to think too hard. A little Drake, a little Giveon, the perfect background music for driving.
At least she thought until the next song started.
SZA. Nobody Gets Me.
The moment the first chords hit, it was like a punch straight to Paige's chest. Her hand froze mid-motion, suspended above the stereo.
She could have skipped it and she should have. But her fingers just hovered there, unmoving, while the opening notes wrapped around her.
Azzi didn't react right away, but Paige saw it. That subtle shift and the way her fingers stopped moving, phone paused mid-tex. Her whole posture tensed up slightly.
Like the song cracked something wide open inside both of them.
"Fore the memories get to kicking in
It's too late, I don't wanna lose..."
God, this fucking song.
Paige had gone out of her way to avoid it for months. Blocked it from every playlist, skipped it without thinking whenever it came on shuffle, even unhearted it on Apple Music so it wouldn't show up at all.
Pretended it wasn't their song. Pretended it didn't still hollow her out every time. Out of all the songs that had been intertwined with their story, this was the one that never faded.
Azzi would play it on quiet Sunday mornings, when they were still curled up in bed, Paige tucked under Azzi's arm, her cheek resting against the soft rhythm of her chest as sunlight filtered lazily through their bedroom blinds.
Paige used to hum it all the time while doing the most mundane things. While brushing her teeth and flipping pancakes, even waiting by the door while Azzi tied her shoes for practice.
Paige had even sung it once, completely off-key, into the collar of Azzi's hoodie laughing while they slow danced in their cramped college bedroom, bare feet in old boxers.
And now it was playing in this small car, in the tense silence, like a ghost neither of them were ready to hear for. It filled the space between them like it never left.
Paige's chest tightened, her breath catching somewhere between memory and ache.
She didn't need this right now, not when she was trying so hard to hold it together.
But suddenly, she was back in that dim dorm room, two years ago, on the night she forgot the SZA ticket drop. Gino had kept her at the gym late, drilling her on footwork and three-dribble pull-ups for what felt like forever.
Her phone sat untouched in the locker while the entire arena sold out in minutes. By the time she saw the notifications, every seat was gone.
She had tried to brush it off, act like it wasn't a big deal, but Azzi had known. Paige had sulked the entire night, curled up in an oversized hoodie on the floor, half-heartedly playing Call of Duty with KK online, barely speaking, jaw clenched around disappointment.
And Azzi, of course, had fixed it.
She had walked in with that familiar smirk, like she already had a plan. Without a word, she had taken the controller from Paige's hand, plucked the headset off her head, and leaned into the mic.
"Hey KK? She is logging off, because she is about to fall in love with me all over again."
Paige had spluttered, ready to throw out a halfhearted protest, but Azzi didn't give her the chance. She just grinned wider and held out a plain white envelope, like it wasn't a big deal.
Paige blinked, still recovering from the sudden whiplash of affection. "What is this?"
Azzi gave a small shrug, trying to play it cool, but her smile was already threatening to break into something smug.
"Just something to fix your attitude."
There were two front-section tickets to see SZA in Hartford in the envelope.
Paige stared at them like she didn't quite trust they were real. "How...how the hell did you pull this off?"
Azzi beamed, full dimple, proud of herself and completely unbothered. "I pulled a few strings. Mack has a friend who owed her a favour. I wasn't about to let my girl miss her favourite artist. Especially not when she is playing in Connecticut."
And Paige had launched herself into her arms, almost knocking them both over. She picked Azzi up like she weighed nothing, kissed her like she was something out of a dream, spun her in a circle until they were both laughing too hard to breathe.
That night, she laid her down on their bed and spent hours thanking her in every way she knew how.
Azzi had murmured against her shoulder, smiling into her skin, "You are welcome, baby," and Paige had thought at that moment,
This is what being with your forever person is supposed to feel like.
The concert had been magic. Paige still remembered how the lights bathed the arena in violet and gold during Nobody Gets Me. The crowd fell quiet in that sacred, aching way fans do when a song hits a little too close to home.
Azzi had stood beside her, arm snug around her waist, the side of her body pressed close. Paige had turned towards her, gaze locked on Azzi’s profile, and sang the second verse directly into her ear.
It was soft, a little shaky, but full of everything she felt. Azzi hadn't looked away. Her eyes had shimmered from tears she didn't bother to blink back.
Her thumb had rubbed slow, steady circles against Paige's hip. Holding her there, taking everything in.
"Nobody gets me like you…"
Now that same song was playing in Paige's rental car, and Azzi was sitting right beside her, silent and unreadable. The distance between them was only a few inches but emotionally, it still felt like a huge crack they hadn't figured out how to cross yet.
But maybe… maybe this was the start.
Paige tried to keep her eyes on the road, to act like the lyrics weren't crawling up her spine, but everything around her started to blur. Her chest tightened with each passing verse, ribs pulling taut like she couldn't quite expand them enough to breathe properly.
"How am I supposed to let you go?
Only like myself when I'm with you…"
This hit hard.
She hadn't cried since draft night, not even when her trade went through. But this, this stupid, perfect, devastating song, cracked her.
The lyrics hadn't changed, but they felt different now.
What used to be comforting and something wrapped in the warmth of love, now felt raw and weighted down by everything they hadn't said out loud.
Her jaw clenched, her grip on the wheel went white-knuckle. She bit down hard on her bottom lip. She tried to keep the emotions locked somewhere deep, somewhere unreachable without falling back to old, bad habits.
But when the last chorus faded out and that final, echoing line dissolved into silence, the air inside the car collapsed with it.
"Fuck," she muttered under her breath.
It wasn't supposed to come out. She hadn't meant to say anything. But the word cracked the stillness like glass.
Azzi didn't say anything, but Paige felt the shift beside her again. The barely-there motion of someone who remembered and understood what Paige was feeling.
Like she remembered every second the same way as Paige did.
The car slowed to a stop in front of Julie's building. Paige threw it into park with more force than necessary and let her head fall back against the seat. She tilted her face toward the ceiling like the sky might offer her the answers.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to breathe past the lump clawing at her throat.
Hold it together. You are fine. Just breathe.
But it was too late, the tears were already there, soft and silent. Barely a handful, but enough to sting her eyes and send a hollow ache through her chest.
Then, without warning, she felt it.
A touch, soft and featherlight, the brush of skin against her cheek. Paige flinched, not out of fear, but recognition.
Azzi.
Her knuckles were gentle as they swept a tear away, then another. It wasn't rushed and did not feel pitying. It was gentle and caring, the kind of touch that only comes from knowing someone at their most vulnerable.
Paige leaned into it instinctively, her body moving before her mind caught up. Eyes still closed, letting herself feel it. Letting herself remember.
This was how Azzi had always comforted her. Not with speeches or platitudes but with this. A hand on her face, a thumb at the edge of her cheekbone.
As if Paige's sadness wasn't something to fix, but it was something to be held. And for a moment, Paige let herself be held by Azzi again.
But the second stretched too long and then it broke. Azzi pulled her hand back.
The warmth vanished like it had never been there.
When Paige opened her eyes again, Azzi had turned back toward her window. Her phone was in her hand, thumb moving quickly over the screen.
Back to the silence.
But in the reflection of the glass, Paige could still see her face. Her jaw was clenched, her brows drawn together and her lashes blinking faster than normal. Paige's breath caught in her throat.
She is not okay either.
This wasn't just her grief to carry. It wasn't only Paige sitting there, aching for everything they had been. Azzi was right beside her, lost in the same memories, caught in the same wreckage.
She could feel it beneath the silence- Azzi was holding it in, just like she was. And somehow, that made it both harder to bear and strangely easier to breathe.
It was still a shared ache.
Paige drew in a breath and then another. Deep and shaky, as if she was bracing for something to hit or maybe just trying to keep her chest from splitting apart.
And before she could second-guess herself, she whispered it.
"Azzi."
Just her name and nothing more, but it landed in the space between them like something sacred. It was half prayer, half apology, and fully everything Paige hadn't had the courage to say until now.
Azzi turned to her, slow and intentional, and met Paige's eyes. And in that moment, everything that had been hidden was suddenly visible.
Her eyes were rimmed red. They were glossy and wet. Her face was still composed, but barely. She was holding herself together with the last bit of thread she had.
Paige's breath caught in her throat.
She almost looked away. Almost shoved it all back down like she always had. But then, out of nowhere, she heard Geno's voice in her head, clear and unyielding, like it used to be after a tough loss.
She still looks for you in every room. You still know how to fight.
And for once, Paige didn't flinch from the truth, she didn't hide. She sat up straighter. Her voice came out rough, raw around the edges, but real.
"I am sorry," she said quietly. "God, I am so fucking sorry."
Azzi didn't move. Paige pressed on, the words tumbling out like a confession she could not stop.
"I should have told you I was drowning," she continued, each word heavier than the last. "I should have asked for help. Instead I just… pulled away and shut you out. Like losing you was easier than admitting I was scared and losing myself."
The silence that followed was unbearable. Her pulse pounded in her ears, she could hear herself breathing and feel the sting behind her eyes.
Azzi didn't say anything at first. But she didn't look away either.
Her face was still unreadable, that same guarded calm she wore when she didn't trust the world not to hurt her.
But then Paige saw how Azzi's jaw trembled, her eyes squeezed shut for a beat too long. It was the only way to keep the tears from falling. Her lips parted with a soft, unsteady breath.
And then, finally, she spoke. Just two words. But they landed like a wave crashing through the silence.
"I know."
It nearly broke Paige in half.
Because Azzi knew and maybe she always had. Maybe even back then, through all the missteps and silence, she had seen Paige drowning and didn't know how to reach her.
They didn't reach for each other, but the space between them shifted. Something unspoken passed through it. Not forgiveness, not yet, but a shared willingness to try.
They sat like that for a while, side by side. The air still fragile, but no longer suffocating. They weren’t avoiding the silence now, they were breathing through it. Both of them blinking too fast, both of them still shaky.
But neither of them looked away.
And for the first time in nine months, it didn't feel like they were pretending to be strangers. It felt like a beginning of something new.
They were learning how to be brave again.
Azzi POV:
As soon as she stepped out of the building, Azzi's eyes locked on Paige, leaning against the hood of her rental like she wasn't obviously waiting.
She looked casual, legs crossed, head dipped, pretending to scroll through her phone, but Azzi knew better. Knew every tell in that body.
God, she looked good. Stupidly good.
The white button-down open just enough to tease the crop top beneath. Her arms folded in that lazy, confident way that drove Azzi crazy. She hated how her stomach flipped the moment Paige looked up and froze.
Paige definitely noticed her too, Azzi saw the shift in her jaw and the way her eyes darted across Azzi's body like she was trying to devour her on the spot.
Good, you should suffer a little too.
They didn't say much at first, just a soft exchange of hellos, eyes dodging contact after a few seconds each time. Paige opened the door for her without a teasing nickname or gesture like she used to.
Azzi missed it.
They both slid into the car and as soon as the doors closed, Azzi smelled it.
That fucking cologne.
Azzi blinked hard, the scent wrapping around her like always. This was the one that always made her want to crawl into Paige's lap and forget the rest of the world.
Paige had only used it for rare nights, anniversaries, birthdays, that weekend in New Orleans when they didn't leave the hotel room until Sunday night.
Azzi knew that Paige only wore it when she was trying to make Azzi feral.
She barely had her seatbelt on before she was yanking out her phone, thumbs flying:
azzi: Tell me why she had the AUDACITY to wear THE parfume.
azzi: You all know which one.
dorka: 👀
caroline: 😭 Oh she's playing dirty
morgan: Is it working tho
azzi: …Im gonna combust.
sarah: why am i part of this group
She locked her phone and dropped it into her lap, already too warm.
Paige didn't say anything, but Azzi caught the sideways glance, just once, careful and quick. She tapped her foot and focused on the street signs.
Reminded herself that this is just a ride to team dinner. Just teammates doing normal things.
And then the next song started.
Nobody Gets Me by SZA.
Her fingers twitched.
She didn't look at Paige, but she could feel her reaction. Paige had gone completely quiet, her soft humming had stopped and the tapping on the wheel halted. All that was left was her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and the tiniest shudder in her breath.
Azzi turned her face slightly toward the window. This song had so much of their history.
They had memories of it in every room they shared at UConn. Sunday mornings in bed, tangled under flannel sheets with no reason to leave. Paige humming the lyrics into Azzi's collarbone after games and during that concert.
God.
Paige had sulked for days about missing the ticket sale. Azzi had pretended not to care until she could get her hands on two. When she handed over the envelope, Paige had looked at her like she hung the moon.
And during the show Paige had turned to her and sang it, all completely off-key but her eyes were full of love and Azzi still wasn't sure she would ever feel so adored again.
But this time it didn't feel nostalgic, it felt like heartbreak.
Azzi blinked fast, staring out the window like it might anchor her. She didn't trust herself not to say something she would regret later.
"Fuck."
That's when Azzi looked. Paige's shoulders had risen, her hands death-gripping the wheel. Here eyes were closed and her lips pressed tight like she was trying to keep it together.
Azzi acted without thinking.
Her hand reached out and, almost of its own accord, her knuckles brushed Paige's cheek. She gently wiped away the tears that had slipped out.
Exactly as she always had, especially during Paige's darkest moments post-surgery, when the only thing that calmed her was being held without words.
And Paige leaned into it. Just the smallest bit, like her body remembered too.
By the time Azzi pulled her hand back, her own chest was tight. She turned back to the window, phone in her lap, fingers trembling against the screen.
She tried to ground herself by counting the trees outside. And still, her throat burned and her eyes stung. That old ache started to bloom again, curling up from her ribs and into her chest. She blinked hard at her reflection in the passenger side window.
Get it together.
She thought Paige would stay silent and let the moment pass. That was always how it went these days, closeness flickering in and out like a glitch in the system. One of them always retreating before it got too real.
Azzi herself asked for it, so she could not blame Paige for not crossing that line, even if she wanted her to. But then she heard it.
"Azzi."
So soft she almost didn't catch it, but her body definitely did.
She turned, slowly, like if she moved too fast, the moment might vanish. When her eyes met Paige's, red-rimmed, glassy, wide with everything she wasn't saying, her own chest stuttered.
Azzi knew that look.
She had seen it in bedrooms and locker rooms and hotel hallways at 2 a.m. She had seen it after buzzer beaters and injuries and fights and birthdays and reunions.
It was the look Paige wore when everything was raw and unguarded. When she couldn't pretend anymore.
Azzi felt her stomach flip. Her grip on the phone tightened.
Azzi held her gaze.
"I am sorry," Paige said. Her voice cracked like something brittle inside her had finally broken. "I am so fucking sorry, Azzi."
Azzi didn't move, didn't even breath.
Paige was clearly speaking out of her heart, she wasn't reading a script. She wasn't trying to make it sound perfect or clean. She was just saying how she felt, messy and raw.
"I should have told you I was drowning," she continued, each word heavier than the last. "I should have asked for help. Instead I just… pulled away and shut you out. Like losing you was easier than admitting I was scared and losing myself."
Azzi had to close her eyes.
She didn't want to cry, not here and now. She had been doing so well holding it together all week.
But that confession cracked something in her chest. It was the one thing she had been waiting to hear. The piece that had been missing this whole time.
Not an excuse or a fix, just… the truth.
Her throat tightened, but she didn't turn away. She stayed facing Paige. And when she opened her eyes again, Paige was still looking at her like she didn't know what to do with herself. Like she had just ripped her whole chest open and handed Azzi the pieces.
So Azzi gave her what little she could.
"I know," she whispered.
It came out steadier than she expected. It wasn't angry or bitter, just honest. Because deep down she did know, even when she didn't want to.
She had known Paige was struggling. Had tried to help, had offered to carry the weight with her, but Paige had always wanted to be the strong one. And in the end, she hqd isolated herself so deeply that Azzi couldn't reach her anymore.
It didn't matter how hard she tried.
Azzi had spent so long trying to resent her, trying to convince herself that Paige didn't care anymore, but that had never felt true.
The quiet that followed should have been unbearable, but it wasn't. It was heavy, yes, but not suffocating.
The apology was out now, and somehow, that made breathing easier. Azzi still felt wrecked by it, but less alone in it.
Paige was right there with her.
Azzi kept her eyes open now, really looking at her. Paige wasn't hiding anymore. She was shaken and vulnerable and so much like the girl she had fallen in love with years ago.
There was no wall between them at that moment. Just two people trying to breathe through what they broke.
Azzi let her body relax slowly. Her thumb eased off the death grip she had on her phone. She let herself take in Paige without pretending.
Not the version from UConn, or the Paige from Dallas that gutted her, but the one sitting beside her right now.
The one present and trying.
Because Azzi knew that sometimes, when the wounds are still open, showing up is the bravest thing two people can do.
A/N: Now that we all calmed down from Azzi's hard launch, I am here with the next one. Let me know what you think. :)
Word Count: 5.9k words
Masterlist
Azzi POV:
The next couple of days passed in a blur of alarms before sunrise, aching legs, and the relentless intensity of a WNBA training camp.
It was the kind of grind Azzi had been warned about. It tested not only your body but your focus and willingness to learn and adapt.
Mornings started with weight room sessions that left her arms shaking, and by the time they hit film study and tactical walk-throughs, she had to force her brain to keep pace.
Team drills moved into individual work blocks, then half and full-court scrimmages before it was time for recovery filled with tough massages and ice baths.
The next day, repeat.
There were no days off, no time to get used to the style and physicality of the WNBA. Everyone was expected to be ready.
And Azzi absolutely loved it.
She could feel herself improving every hour. Her reads were cleaner, her release even quicker, her body slowly adjusting to the pace.
W was faster than college, yes, but it wasn't a completely different game. It just required a higher level of belief in her own shots.
Luckily, Azzi had learned to believe in her shots during her last college season. She had walked through enough fire to know she belonged here.
What did surprise her was the welcome.
She had expected the vets to keep their distance, wait until she proved herself in real action before bothering to care. But it was the opposite.
From day one, most of them embraced her, quick to recognise what she brought to the court. And Kelsey Plum, especially, didn't leave any room for confusion.
Azzi was her rookie.
It wasn't something they talked about, but it became clear early on that Plum had picked Azzi. Their dynamic fell into place fast. It was full of teasing and tough touches, but underpinned with respect.
Plum stood next to her during drills, she called her out with just enough sharpness to push, but not critique and she always made room next to her during warmups, without saying a word.
Azzi wasn't naïve, she knew that it was special.
The league didn't hand out mentors. Veterans chose their rookies when something clicked, either because they saw something in them or because the rookie was persistent enough to force the bond.
Azzi was still not the enforcing type.
One afternoon, Azzi overheard Kelsey near the weight room, talking to one of the assistant coaches. She wasn't eavesdropping, but her own name caught her ear.
"Azzi has got so much potential," Kelsey was saying, voice low but certain. "She is smart, she reads fast and gets her shots off even quicker. I like her a lot. She listens and accepts feedback. And she is so fucking sweet, it's sickening. I will have to work on her trash talk though."
Azzi flushed but didn't interrupt. She just kept walking, heart a little louder in her chest. Still, a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.
She couldn't resist a little jab later that day.
After threading a bounce pass between two defenders for a clean assist, she caught Kelsey's eye and said with mock innocence, "So… ready to call me your favourite rookie yet?"
Plum groaned, dramatic and loud while rolling her eyes.
That just pushed Azzi even more. She jogged back into line for the next drill and added with a singsong voice, "You know, I read somewhere that vets who hype up their rookies perform better themselves."
Kelsey straightened, side-eye sharp. "You are reaching, Fudd. You are not hopeless, but you have a long way to earn my favourite title."
Azzi grinned. "Understood, cap. I will try harder."
"You are exhausting," Kelsey muttered, totally deadpan.
"But adorable," Azzi chirped.
"That's the problem," Kelsey grumbled as they jogged into position. "You are way too nice to be this annoying."
And just like that, the dynamic was sealed.
Azzi's sweet confidence and determination made it impossible to stay annoyed at her for long.
She would nudge Plum during water breaks, flash her dimples after backdoor cuts, and toss exaggerated "Thank you, cap!" shoutouts whenever she got fed the ball perfectly.
Plum gave her hell for it often, but when Azzi wasn't looking, her eyes always softened. And when Rae teased Kelsey about being "Team Princess," during recovery that day, Kelsey just rolled her eyes.
"She is a menace," she said, then added quietly. "but one that will win Championships for us."
And then there was Paige.
It was strange at first, how easy it was to pretend they were just teammates while playing. They both performed that part well.
But only when it came to the court.
Because Paige had a way of being obvious without meaning to.
Paige kept her promise, she didn't talk to Azzi outside of basketball. She didn't try to corner her between drills or sneak in small talk in the weight room.
But she showed up in ways that told Azzi more than words ever could.
One morning, Azzi had muttered under her breath half-jokingly about how much she hated Gatorade, calling it too sugary and artificial.
"Why is coconut water never an option?" She had said, eyebrows raised, not actually expecting a response. She had assumed it was just another locker room throwaway comment, they all did that sometimes.
But after practice that day, when she returned to her station, there it was.
A single, chilled bottle of coconut water, tucked neatly beside her bag. It wasn't even one of the basic, popular brands, it was the one she actually loved. There was no note or explanation.
Azzi had blinked at it, stunned. First, she thought maybe a staff member overheard her and decided to be nice to the rookie. But when she tried to find more later on, scouring the canteen, the vending machines, and even went as fas as asking the nutrition rep, she came up empty handed.
And then the next day, it happened again. But this time she caught Paige stepping away from her locker.
Azzi wasn't sure how she had gotten it. Or how she even remembered the specific kind but she clearly did. And that small action meant more to Azzi than she dared to admit.
Then there was the way Paige played with her in scrimmages.
Not just the passes she received, though those were perfectly placed and timed. But the trust in the way she did it. Paige anticipated Azzi's cuts and shifted to give her a touch more space to shine.
Paige played like someone who remembered every inch of Azzi's game. Like someone who had studied her for years.
Which, of course, she had.
And Azzi tried to tell herself it was just that. It was familiarity, teammates with history and chemistry on the court.
But it didn't feel like just that. Not when Paige looked at her the way she did when she thought Azzi wasn't looking.
It made Azzi confused.
It started small, a glance in the mirror in the weight room. Watching a second too long across the court during drills. The burning feeling of eyes on her during film sessions when she was sitting somewhat in front of Paige.
At first, Azzi thought she was imagining it. But on the third day, after a long scrimmage and an even longer lift, Paige sat down across from her during a recovery session, getting her thighs massaged and it became obvious.
Azzi didn’t look up at first. She was half-listening to Rickea telling a story about her off-season, but something in her chest tightened.
That pull again.
When she finally looked up, Paige was already watching her and this time the look was nothing casual or vague.
It was that look.
The one Azzi had seen in high school, when they were both just kids with big dreams and a shared passion for basketball. The look that made her commit to UConn and made her believe she could come back from every injury. It lit her on fire before their final game together only a bit over a year ago.
That look made her swear she wouldn't let Paige Bueckers leave UConn without a Natty, even if it meant pushing herself over her limits to win it.
Azzi swallowed hard and looked away. Because back then, she knew exactly what that look meant, but now she could not tell. And she was not sure she was ready to understand it.
But the moment that truly shifted something in Azzi happened on the Thursday scrimmage.
They were pushing hard all day and by their third set of 5-on-5s, Azzi was just done. She had missed two open threes, back-to-back, then tried to thread a pass that got picked off.
One of the older players, a third-year guard who hadn't said much all week, scoffed and muttered under her breath, "What a first pick, huh?"
It wasn't loud, but it was loud enough for Azzi to hear. For Paige to hear. For Cameron and Plum, too.
Paige stopped dead in her tracks.
"What did you say, Wilson?" Her voice wasn't raised, but it was sharp and controlled.
The voice of a leader.
The older guard blinked, taken aback. "I was just…"
"No, say it again," Paige said, turning fully toward her now. "Because if we are going to start policing each other's mistakes three days into camp, then let's make sure we are holding everyone to that standard. You want to run back the last five possessions or just hers?"
A long silence stretched between them. The gym felt quieter.
"We are not doing that," Paige said, voice a touch less sharp, but still serious. "That's not the culture we are building here at the Sparks."
The older guard mumbled something like an apology, eyes on the floor.
Azzi hadn't moved but her skin felt hot. Her hands curled slightly by her sides. She didn't look at Paige, not until the next timeout, when she jogged past and, without glancing at Azzi, tapped her hip twice.
It was the same two taps they have used at UConn, their silent way of saying, I have got you.
Azzi exhaled and nodded at her. And when Paige turned away, she finally let herself smile for the first time since camp started while thinking of Paige.
This silent communication spoke volume to her even if she did not fully understand what it meant at the moment.
Because Azzi had spent nine months believing Paige had moved on.
Believing that if someone could disappear from her life so completely, they must have made peace with it. And Azzi had tried to make peace, too.
But now, after the last few days, she wasn't so sure. Because this didn't look like peace. Now she wasn't sure if Paige wanted distance at all.
And that changed everything.
It suddenly didn't feel like a closed chapter. It felt like something still alive and very much real.
And Azzi tried not to think too much about it. She needed to focus. She buried herself in film, in drills, in lifting heavier and pushing harder than anyone else in the room.
But Paige kept being there.
Not loudly, not intrusively, but there. And Azzi felt herself cracking in ways she didn't know how to name yet.
Because she had loved Paige, deeply, no matter how hard she tried not to, that part she had accepted.
But what she hadn't prepared for at all was this confusion.
Paige's quiet presence and care had unsettled the carefully constructed box Azzi had placed her love in. And the hardest part was that Paige wasn't even trying anything.
She wasn't demanding anything. But she looked at her with a softness that didn't belong to strangers or exes.
it made Azzi's chest ache in new but familiar ways.
It felt like the beginning of something… or the haunting of something they had never finished. And Azzi didn't know how to handle that. She couldn't afford to misread it, not while knowing that they were supposed to be teammates for the next three years.
She needed to focus.
She was here now for herself. Every step, every shot and every rep had to be about the team and playing her best. Not about Paige Bueckers.
But she also knew one thing for sure, she couldn't stay in this limbo much longer.
She needed to talk to Paige. She needed to understand what the hell this was.
Because if Paige was only doing this to be kind, to show support and nothing more, then Azzi needed to build her walls higher.
But what if she wasn't? What if it wasn't a closed chapter for Paige either?
Paige POV:
For the first time in a very long time Paige actually had fun playing basketball.
Training camp was relentless, sure, early mornings and aching muscles, but for the first time since her own draft night, Paige didn't feel like she was trying to earn her place.
She already had one.
She felt it in the way the Sparks coaches spoke to her, direct but trusting. When she spoke up, they actually listened. If she messed up, they corrected it and moved on without making it a whole thing.
And that, honestly, meant everything to Paige right now.
In Dallas, every play had felt like an audition that came with the pressure to living up to being the first pick without the structure to succeed.
Here it felt like leadership wasn't just something they expected from her, but also it was something they helped her grow into with confidence.
On the court, she was really starting to feel like herself again.
Not just running plays but calling them. She was the one pointing out defensive gaps during drills, calling for a reset when the pace got messy. And when things broke down, everyone looked to her and not because they were unsure, but because they expected her to take control.
On the second day, she called for a double drag, and without hesitation, the team ran it. Cameron made a sharp cut, Rae stepped in just on time and the play landed clean. The bench clapped, and Coach Roberts gave her a small nod with a smile.
Her court vision wasn't something she had to prove or explain anymore. They trusted it, they trusted her.
Off the court, Paige was also slowly reclaiming pieces of herself she hadn’t even realised had gone quiet.
It started small, like grabbing the AUX cord one morning in the locker room and queuing up her warm-up playlist, a carefully curated mix she had made weeks ago. Drake, SZA, a few throwbacks that got Cam humming under her breath.
The next day, people waited for her to connect to the speaker without saying a word. And just like that, she became the unofficial DJ of the Sparks.
Later that afternoon, as they were packing up to leave the facility, Cam nudged her lightly.
"Hey," she said, voice casual. "Wanna grab dinner tonight? I feel like we never really got a proper catch-up since you got here."
Paige blinked, surprised not just by the invitation but by how much she wanted to say yes. So she did.
They ended up at a cozy new Italian place a few blocks away. They spent two hours over pasta talking about everything from Cam’s injury and how it shifted her relationship to the game to Paige’s time in Dallas and how isolating it had been.
It was honest and felt like the beginning of a friendship that always had the potential but never the time or proximity to be explored before.
Then came Kelsey the next day. During cool-down, while most of the team was sprawled on mats and wiping sweat off their faces, Kelsey tossed her a water and said, "I have been thinking… you and I should sit down. Start shaping what we want this team to feel like. Not just how we play together, but how we build a culture for the whole organisation. Then maybe we loop in Fudd and Brink, build it out from there."
Paige had braced herself for some power-play from Plum like she got from Arike at first. She was expecting a little resistance, knowing how they had to share the point guard position and Paige was not shy about wanting to become a leader on this team.
But the pushback never came, instead, Plum looked at her with that confidence of someone who knew her worth and wasn't afraid to share the weight.
She looked at Paige as a partner and not a rival.
And, of course… there was Azzi.
After that first day, after Azzi looked her in the eye and said she wasn't ready to talk, Paige had gone home with that heavy, deep ache in her chest that only heartbreak can bring.
She sat on her balcony for a long time that night, still in her practice gear, shoes kicked off, fingers absently playing with the bracelet that she started to wear again after draft night.
She hasn't even showered yet, just stared over the ocean, replaying the way Azzi's shoulders tensed, the quiet catch in her throat.
The clear hurt in Azzi's eyes, the break in her voice when she said not yet… it knocked the wind out of Paige.
Eventually, she picked up her phone and opened her old UConn group chat. Typed out a single line:
PAIGE
8.19 p.m.
What do you do when the person you love says she is not ready to talk?
She didn't even need to name her. They all knew. The response was immediate.
NIKA: OH. MY. GOD. ARE WE ALLOWED TO TALK ABOUT IT NOW?!
KK: wait
AALIYAH: Fucking finally.
She had kept it mostly to herself until now, the real reasons behind the trade and what had really gone down with Azzi.
It wasn't because she didn't trust her friends, she just hadn't been ready to say it out loud. Not until now, not until the first small rejection following her first attempt of rebuilding her trust with Azzi.
Now Paige found herself sitting alone in a too-quiet apartment, needing something to hold onto. So she told them.
Not the whole thing, but enough. She talked about draft night and her conversation with Geno. How the trade actually went down and finally the moment in the locker room with Azzi that day.
She was awkward at first, but her friends didn't miss a beat.
Nika cursed in all three languages she knew and threatened to book a flight straight to Los Angeles from Seattle. "You are both idiots, but do not doubt that you are her idiot. Play the long game, that worked out well the first time for you. You know that she sees more than she says. If she is not ready to talk yet, show what you want with your actions."
Aaliyah called her dramatic, then dropped a 2 minute-long monologue breaking down how she needed to remember that emotional timing is important and how Azzi had always needed space to sort through things on her own before she was ready to talk about it. "Just because you are ready to run in headfirst doesn't mean she is. Let her get there on her own, P."
KK followed up with a soft message. "She is still talking to you, that has to mean something. Be patient, P. You two could never stay away from each other too long."
They were right. Of course, they were.
Later that night, Paige sent Azzi another message. Nothing overly dramatic, just a quiet promise that she wouldn't push, that she would wait. And one more thing she couldn't keep to herself.
How proud she was of Azzi.
Because that was the truth, Azzi had been brilliant. She was more confident and fearless than Paige had been in her own debut.
Paige hadn't had anyone in Dallas to believe in her, but she would be damned if she didn't become that person for Azzi, regardless of their official connection at the moment.
Paige went to bed a bit calmer with a clear plan in her mind, because as long as Azzi hadn't shut the door and lock it… she wasn't going to walk away. Never again.
So the next day, Paige shifted her focus.
She didn't seek Azzi out, didn't hover or linger or press for more than what was being offered. When Azzi looked tense, Paige gave her space. When their paths crossed, she kept it professional.
She didn't want to make it feel like a chase. She didn't want Azzi scanning the gym for exits or feeling cornered during cooldowns.
That was the last thing she wanted.
She let Azzi come to her in her own time. And in the meantime, Paige did what she has always done best, spoke with action.
And within a couple of days, she started to notice the shift. They were small, quiet changes in Azzi's behaviour that maybe no one else would have caught, but Paige did.
It began with the coconut water.
Every day since that first delivery, Paige made sure there was one waiting in Azzi's locker before practice. She never said a word about it, but she noticed immediately that Azzi stopped hesitating at the cooler to pick up something.
She knew that a bottle would be waiting for her at the same place each day. And each time she found it tucked neatly into the same corner, she would glance across the room toward Paige.
Just a quick glance and a small smile with Paige's favourite dimple.
At lunches, it became even clearer. They usually sat in clusters, scattered around the cafeteria tables.
One afternoon, there were two open seats, one between Kelsey and Paige, and another down at the far end next to Rae. Without hesitation, Azzi slid into the spot beside Paige.
They didn't speak directly, but Azzi didn't avoid the group conversation either. She laughed when Julie told some ridiculous story about her rookie-year.
She added a comment here and there, light and easy, and when Paige commented on the story herself, Azzi did not tighten up, did not freeze. She even laughed at one of her jokes.
Paige didn't press, but she couldn't help the way it warmed her when Azzi didn’t flinch from sharing space with her anymore.
And then when it came to the court, Paige never held back.
Whatever careful distance she tried to keep off the hardwood, whatever emotional restraint she practiced in the hallways and locker room, all of it dropped the second the ball was in play.
Paige didn't overthink it, she just played from her heart. She knew Azzi's game as well as her own, maybe even better, and nothing about that had changed.
She read her timing instinctively, cleared space for her cuts without thinking and adjusted her pace to open the floor. Not to impress her or to prove a point, just because that's what you do for your teammate as a point guard.
Especially when your teammate has the fastest release in the league, a shot repertoire that borders on Steph Curry's, and her name is Azzi Fudd.
Even Kelsey took notice of that. When one day Azzi dropped four straight threes in a 5-on-5 scrimmage, Plum pulled Paige aside with a crooked grin and a low mutter.
"Her release is so damn fast. I get why you wanted to play with her as soon as possible again," she said, half admiring. "We have a real chance for the playoffs with her."
Paige just grinned and nodded proudly.
But what mattered more than anything though, was the fact that after a few days it didn't feel one-sided anymore.
Azzi started meeting her halfway.
After plays, the familiar touches returned. High fives, quick shoulder bumps, those little physical acknowledgements that used to be second nature, became part of their on-court communication again.
And when Paige threaded a no-look bounce pass through two defenders to hit Azzi perfectly in stride for a fast-break layup, Azzi turned on the jog back and gave her a grin so bright and unguarded that it almost made Paige stumble.
She hadn't seen that smile in months and it made her chest tighten in the best and worst ways.
And just like that, the chemistry they once shared began to resurface. No big declarations or long conversations for that on court chemistry.
Then came the moment Paige didn't plan for.
They were deep into a half-court scrimmage. Azzi had just missed two clean looks and turned the ball over once in the span of a few possessions.
Nothing that couldn't happen to anyone, especially during such early stages of the season. But one of the second-unit guards, Wilson, muttered under her breath as she passed by.
Something about Azzi not being first-pick material.
It wasn't loud, but it didn't need to be, Paige heard it and Azzi did too. Before she could even think about it, Paige shut it down. It wasn't even just about Azzi, she just acted as a leader.
She made it clear that the culture they were building at her Sparks was not one where blaming each other will be accepted.
Kelsey backed her immediately and just like that, it was handled. No drama, but also no doubt that Paige was already shaping the tone of this team. And no one questions her right to do it.
But even as the play resumed, Paige was still buzzing from the adrenaline of it. As they fell into defence, her body moved before her mind caught up.
She stepped just close enough to Azzi to brush her fingers twice against her hip. It was their silent way of saying, you good? I have got you.
As soon as she did it, her stomach dropped. She hadn't meant to do it. It wasn't meant as a move, it was pure reflex. She held her breath, waiting.
Azzi looked at her and nodded as a confirmation.
Paige exhaled slowly, the tightness in her chest loosening just a little. She turned her focus back to the play, but something had clearly shifted.
For the first time in a long time, she didn't feel like she was chasing something that had already slipped away.
She was fighting for the love of the game and the love of Azzi Fudd.
Azzi POV - 7th day of training
The locker room buzzed with that warm post-practice energy.
Cam was stretched out across the middle of the floor, humming along to Paige's playlist as she twisted her back with a dramatic groan. Rickea was on her knees, half inside her duffel bag, cursing out loud about a missing compression sleeve.
Azzi was still laced into her sneakers, hair damp and tied back, perched on her chair with both feet flat to the ground. She was relaxed, chatting easily with the two of them about their plans for tomorrow, their first day off since training camp started.
"I might go check out an apartment," she said, wiping sweat from her brow with her wrist. "There is a spot near Playa del Rey that was recommended to me."
"Come to the Lakers game with us after," Rickea said immediately. "Half the team is going. We get tickets from the team, and I have the cutest outfit picked out already."
Azzi laughed. "Might be up for it. Depends on when I am done with the apartment."
Before anyone could add more, a loud clap cracked through the room.
"Okay!" Kelsey's voice rang out, grinning like she had just pulled off a heist. "Everybody, listen up for a second."
Azzi turned instinctively towards her.
Paige stood beside Kelsey, arms crossed, still slightly flushed from practice. Her smile was soft but confident, and Azzi's heart did that thing it had started doing again lately.
"This is serious business," Paige said, voice low and mock serious. "Don't make us regret this."
Kelsey jumped in.
"Team dinner at 7 p.m. tonight at High Rooftop Lounge in Venice. The night is covered by your very generous point guards.” She pointed at herself and then at Paige.
The room exploded.
Cheers and claps from everyone. Cam yelled "I knew I liked y'all" and Rae threw her hands in the air like she was celebrating a bucket.
Azzi laughed, caught off guard by how easy the joy felt.
She turned toward Paige again, only to find that she was already looking at her. Their eyes met. No smirk this time, just a soft look on her face.
She used to give her that look when everything around them was chaotic and Paige just needed to check in, to make sure Azzi was okay in the middle of it all.
Azzi held her gaze this time. She tilted her head just slightly.
Are you sure about this?
Paige, as if hearing her thoughts, just gave a small shrug. And then the smallest, softest smile. It cracked something open in Azzi's chest.
Because this wasn't the Paige she had watched spiral in Dallas. Not the Paige who stopped texting back, who shut down and let their relationship wither in silence.
This was her Paige.
The one who planned things for her team, and was able to lit up a room with her humour and sassiness. Who always, always made sure that Azzi was part of the decisions that mattered.
That version of Paige had vanished under pressure and expectations in Dallas, but now... now Azzi felt like Paige was slowly finding her way back to herself.
Maybe not entirely just yet, but she was slowly growing into her true self again. And Azzi was not entirely sure how to handle that.
By the tame Azzi came to her senses, Paige had vanished from the post-practice locker room chaos, and Azzi found herself glancing around unconsciously.
Then a towel flew past her head.
"Fudd," Cam said with a knowing look. "You just drifted off hardcore."
Azzi blinked. "What?"
Cam nodded toward the benches behind her. “Don't panic. She is right there.”
And there she was. Laughing mid-conversation with Kelsey, tugging off her tank top.
Azzi could swear she was intentionally doing it in slow motion, backlit by the harsh locker room light like she was starring in some absurdly hot Gatorade commercial.
Azzi's brain short-circuited for a beat. Mouth slightly open, eyes not even trying to be subtle.
She didn't realise that she was still staring until Rickea muttered, "Oh no. You got it bad, girl."
"Shut up," Azzi said instantly, yanking the hood of her sweatshirt up like that would somehow hide the blush crawling up her neck.
"You are smiling," Rickea sing-songed.
"Shut. Up."
Cam just chuckled from the floor.
"We are not judging. We are just… observing the thirst."
Azzi dropped her gaze, hands fumbling with her shoelaces, but it was no use. Her pulse was racing, stomach fluttering like a middle schooler with a first crush.
And when she looked up again, Paige was already watching her with a little smirk at the corner of her lip.
Their eyes met across the room, and Azzi immediately knew. Paige did all of that on purpose.
Her tank top didn't come off by accident, not like that. Those muscles had no business getting so tense all of a sudden. That angle that highlighted her cheekbones while she turned to Plum before...it was all intentional.
Paige knew how to get Azzi's attention.
And she was absolutely leaning into it now. Subtle but smug, like she was testing the waters with a hit she knew would land.
Azzi tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow. It was barely a reaction, but Paige could read it.
You are pulling this now?
Paige just raised an eyebrow back, gave a tiny shrug, and let that crooked half-smile spread across her face. It was the one that used to unravel Azzi way too easily.
And it was working again.
Azzi looked away fast, forcing her eyes down to her shoes like they might ground her. But her skin was still humming, her pulse still too fast, and no matter how she tried to downplay it, she couldn't forget that look.
Whatever this thing between them was now, it wasn't harmless at all. It wasn't just old chemistry sparking for a second before fading back into memory.
It was very much active and charged. And Paige knew exactly what she was doing to keep it alive.
Azzi stood outside the facility, her duffel bag slung over one shoulder, the other hand shoved into the pocket of her hoodie.
Her legs were toast, the kind of deep, satisfying fatigue that came from a long week of hard training. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, ankles creaking.
Her phone buzzed.
Your Uber is three minutes away.
She sighed and leaned against the sun-warmed wall, letting the light hit her face for a second. She could still hear the hum of teammates lingering inside.
She could have stayed too, but her social battery was done. She just needed a few minutes of silence alone to let her body settle before the team dinner.
Her heart too, if she was being honest.
And then she heard footsteps. Not rushed but definitely not casual either. It sounded familiar.
She didn't need to look up to know who it was. The sound gave it away. Only one person would approach her while second-guessing every step right now. She opened her eyes anyway.
Paige. Of course it was Paige.
She was now wearing grey sweatpants, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, cheeks flushed like she had spent the last five minutes arguing with herself.
Her fingers were doing that thing again, rubbing nervously against each other, fidgety and restless in a way Azzi had only ever seen in a handful of moments.
When Paige had tried to ask her out for real that first fall at UConn. When she had asked her to be her girlfriend. When she had asked her to be her date to the draft.
It was Paige's tell. The giveaway that something mattered too much and she couldn't mask the nerves.
Azzi stayed still and just watched her.
Their eyes met and Paige slowed, realising she was caught in the moment but she did not retreat. There was a quiet resolution in her eyes.
A flicker of that same smugness from earlier in the locker room, but it was softened now, threaded with something gentler.
Hope, maybe. A bit of fear too.
Azzi didn't smile right away. She just held her gaze, unreadable but open. Paige offered a sheepish, hopeful smile in return.
"I feel like I should be better at this by now," she said, her voice light but tight around the edges.
Azzi tilted her head, her expression unreadable but not unkind. "Better at what?"
Paige shrugged, still fidgeting. "Just… not overthinking everything with you."
Azzi didn't reply right away, Paige's words landed heavier than she probable meant them to. But she didn't flinch, she just waited.
"So," Paige tried again, clearing her throat. "This might sound dumb, but… I was thinking… if you want… I could give you a ride to dinner tonight. I know you have been Ubering to practice all week, and I am already picking up Julie. I think your place isn't far from hers. So it just kind of makes sense."
A pause.
"Not like a thing, unless you want it to be. Or not. It doesn’t have to be anything. I just figured..."
Paige stopped herself, eyes widening at the mess she had made out of her own offer.
Azzi blinked. "You ramble more than you used to."
Paige gave a weak laugh, ears turning red. "Yeah, well. You make it hard to think straight."
Azzi's lips twitched. That one snuck under her defences.
"I will be ready by 6.15 p.m.," she said simply, pulling her phone from her pocket. "I will text you the right address."
Paige froze for a second but then her whole face lit up. She made no attempts to play it cool. "Wait, seriously?"
Azzi gave her a slow nod. "Seriously."
"Oh. Cool. Yeah. Great. Perfect." Paige nodded too fast, then caught herself, hand flying to the back of her neck. "I will be there. See you later."
Paige stepped back, still fidgeting with her sleeves.
She turned to leave, and Azzi let herself look at her. Her limbs were just as long as she remembered, but those shoulders really pupped now. The golden ponytail catching the sunlight just right.
She somehow looked different now, but she also looked exactly like the girl Azzi used to love so fiercely she forgot to be afraid of it.
"Paige."
Paige turned immediately, like she had been waiting to be called back. She looked scared, like she thought Azzi would say "sike".
Azzi met her eyes, a little softer now. "Thanks for making me shine this week."
Paige's face softened immediately. "You made yourself shine, Azz,” she said. "I just passed the ball."
And then she walked off, a little bounce in her step now, like she couldn't help it.
Azzi didn’t move.
Her phone buzzed again, Your Uber has arrived, but she stayed where she was, eyes still on the spot where Paige had just disappeared.
Her chest was warm, humming with something she couldn't name yet but didn't want to shake off either. Because that look Paige gave her, that little smirk, that hopeful hesitation, the way she had lingered...
It didn't feel like something that was ending. It felt like something that was beginning again.
A/N: Sooo... this starts out a bit heavy, but I think we are finishing on a better note and we can finally start building up their relationship again. I promise there will be more interaction between them from now on. Let me know what you think. :)
Word Count: 8.6k words
Masterlist
Azzi POV:
Azzi stood just outside the entrance to the Sparks training facility, her fingers curled lightly around the strap of her duffel bag.
The air was still cool, edged with morning haze, but the building in front of her buzzed with a different kind of energy.
Her first day in the W energy.
She let the moment sink in, because this was a big fucking deal.
She let that truth settle for a moment, soft and heavy. The dream was real now not distant, not hypothetical. She was here at the front doors of the life she had worked so hard for.
She had fought for this, not just in the gym, but in every part of her life. Every rehab session, every sleepless night wondering if she would be enough, every time she made herself believe in a future even when her confidence was hanging by a thread.
She had fought to become this version of herself, the one who didn't hesitate, who didn't wait for permission, who walked into rooms like she belonged in them.
And she did belonged here.
She had stepped up this past year in ways that still surprised even herself. She wasn't the quiet freshman anymore, waiting to be told where to stand.
She had grown, learnt to lead, taken the last shot and lifted her team. It was still not her favourite, but she knew how to be the loudest voice in the locker room when it mattered now.
She wasn't scared of the spotlight anymore. She knew her worth now, and not because someone told her, but because she has proved it to herself.
She had every right to walk into that building like she was already part of it. But her feet weren't moving. Because she knew what, or rather who, was waiting for her inside.
Paige was already inside.
She hadn't seen her, but Azzi didn't have a doubt. She didn’t need a text or a headcount to know.
Of course Paige was early, she always was, especially when she felt like she had something to prove.
And Azzi could feel her presence as clearly as she could feel the sun on her shoulders. It was like her heart had a radar, and Paige's name was still the strongest signal it picked up.
Azzi closed her eyes and let the breath sink low into her chest.
It had been nine months since Paige walked away. Not loudly or dramatically, she just… checked out. No text, no call, no fight. Just quiet absence that settled deeper each day until silence became the only thing between them.
Azzi had gone through every version of herself trying to make sense of it. The angry version, the numb version, the version that wanted to hate her and still couldn't. And eventually, the one that just missed her.
Azzi exhaled slowly, her breath shaky even though she tried to hold it steady.
She thought she would be nervous today, but not like this. Not because of her.
This was supposed to be about her dream. The beginning of the journey of becoming the best basketball player out there.
And yet, here she was, standing on the edge of it all with a familiar ache pulsing under her ribs like it never left.
Because the truth, the one she hated and tried to bury and still woke up to most mornings, was this:
She was still in love with Paige Bueckers. God, she was still so in love with her it made her feel stupid.
It didn't matter how many times she had told herself she was over it. It didn't matter how long it had been or how cleanly Paige had walked away.
Azzi could still see her, all the versions of her, when she closed her eyes. Still hear her laugh and remember what it felt like when everything made sense just because Paige was holding her hand.
She had loved her since they were kids.
Since they were stupid and shy and learning how to say I love you without flinching. And maybe she always would. Maybe that was the curse of first loves that ran that deep. You didn't grow out of it, you just learn to carry it differently.
And now, she had to carry it next to her. Every damn day. Because they were teammates again. Same team. Same court. Same space.
Azzi clenched her jaw.
She didn’t blame Paige, not anymore. And she refused to hate her for choosing herself. Just because Paige chose to move on didn't mean Azzi needed to rewrite every part of their story into something bitter. Paige had loved her once, she knew that. She felt it.
But that love hadn't been enough to stay and that's what she had to live with. And still... she loved her.
Azzi closed her eyes for a second, grounding herself.
Yes, this was going to hurt. Seeing her and not be able touching her. Pretending it was fine that they were just teammates, nothing more. But she could do it. She would do it. Because no matter how loud her heart still beat for Paige, she wasn't walking into that building for anyone but herself.
She was Azzi Fudd. She was a professional basketball player now.
She was here because she earned it, because she was ready to play, to shine, to take up space with or without someone holding her hand through it.
She let her fingers tighten around the strap once more. Shoulders back, chin up. Whatever waited for her inside, she could face it. Even if it had Paige's eyes.
Then she stepped forward and walked inside.
Paige POV:
Paige was the first one in the building.
Not because anyone told her to be, but because she had to be.
It was barely 7.15 a.m. when she scanned her badge at the side door, stepping into the chilled quiet of the gym. Her shoes echoed softly on the hardwood. The lights turned on the deeper she walked into the space.
After quickly changing, she dropped her tower and drink by the wall and paused for a second. Let herself take it in.
This court didn't know her yet.
It didn't know about Dallas. About the noise or the headlines. The expectations that got shoved onto her like weights she never agreed to carry.
It didn't know about the way her first year felt like a blur of trying to survive a storm she couldn't steer.
This court didn't care. And maybe that's why she already loved it.
She grabbed a ball and moved into her warmup, slow at first.
Close-in shots, just her and the rim. The kind of repetition that made her mind go quiet. Every follow-through steadied her breath. Every swish reminded her that she could do this.
That this game still belonged to her. That she still belonged to it.
She needed that reminder more than she liked to admit.
Because part of her still wondered if she could find her way back. Not just to her form or confidence or consistency, but to herself.
The version of Paige who played because she loved the game, not because everyone expected her to. Who felt joy crackling through her limbs when the ball left her fingers just right.
The girl who used to stay late at the UConn facility just because she wanted to and she couldn't imagine being anywhere else.
She wanted to be that player again.
Or maybe something even better. Someone who could lead not just by talent, but by presence. Someone this team could trust, someone Azzi could trust.
And if she had to fight her way back inch by inch, she would.
She worked her way out to midrange, then the arc. Her legs burned in the best way already, sweat slowly built along her spine. For a few clean minutes, nothing else existed. Just the bounce, the breath, and the flick of her wrist.
She loved this. God, she loved basketball.
Paige caught the ball off the bounce once again, planted hard, and drained a three from the wing. She didn't celebrate, just jogged to the top of the key and kept going.
You belong here, she told herself again. Out of something deeper than pride. This wasn't about wanting to build a legacy anymore. This was about love.
The game had been hers since she was a kid. She had always known the feel of it, the weight of the ball in her palms, the rush of a perfect sequence, and the high of reading the floor before anyone else.
But somewhere along the way, that joy had gotten swallowed by pressure. Now she was chasing it back with purpose.
Another swish, another small exhale.
She was in her rhythm when she heard the side door bang open. Paige glanced up without stopping.
Rae Burrell entered first, hoodie on and AirPods in, carrying a pink smoothie. "Oh damn," Rae called, pulling a bud out, "Bueckers is out here acting like it’s March Madness already."
"Get your cardio in," Paige said dryly, flicking her wrist and sending another shot sailing through. "You are late, Burrel."
"I am early," Rae said, setting her drink down. "You are just insane."
"Debatable."
Cam Brink followed right behind, all long limbs and big smile. She dropped her bag with a dramatic thud. "You have been here how long, Paige?"
Paige glanced at the clock.
"Don’t say it," Cam muttered. "It's disrespectful to the rest of us who are just trying to survive the first week."
Paige shrugged, catching the ball mid-bounce. "I like getting extra shots up before practice."
Cam blinked. "At seven a.m. on the first training day?"
"I don't sleep well." Rae squinted at her, like she wasn't sure if it was a joke or a confession. But Paige just smiled. "Besides," she added, "It's peaceful before everyone gets in. No one is teasing me."
"Wow," Cam said. "This team bonding is off to a strong start."
Paige laughed softly, finally stepping off the arc and tossing the ball toward the rack. She grabbed her water bottle, took a long sip, and went to give both of them a quick hug.
It wasn't awkward, not with them. She had played against Rae back at UConn. She knew Cam even better through junior national team camps and her games against Stanford.
There was history here, not close-friends history yet. But enough to call it familiar, enough to build on.
They had even bumped into each other a few days ago at the facility, before the full team reported back. Rae had spotted her in the weight room and dragged Cam in after lunch to say hi.
It was a little chaotic, mostly them roasting her about being the biggest trade deal in WNBA history, but it had eased something in her chest. It made this feel less like being dropped on a new team.
It made her feel welcomed.
"Glad you are here though," Rae said now, nodding toward her with sincerity under the teasing. "We could use a little Geno discipline around here, but do not dare to quote me on this! Understood?"
Paige was still smiling, her heartbeat finally slowing into something that felt like steady ground. This was what she had missed, not just the game, but this.
The teasing from teammates. The quiet knowing that someone had your back even if they roasted you whenever they could.
She reached for her towel, wiped her face, and tossed it back into her bag.
"All right," she said, tightening her ponytail. "Let's get to work. We have a championship to win."
Paige had just started to settle. The drills, the rhythm, the easy banter with Cam and Rae, it had all given her something to lean into.
She caught a pass from Rae and stepped into the shot at her spot, weight balanced, feet set. Her shoulders rose with the breath she was about to exhale, her wrist coiled for release.
And then it hit her.
It felt like someone reaching inside her and tugging a string buried deep in her spine. That impossible, instinctual pull she hadn't felt in nearly a year, the one that never lied.
Paige didn't even have to look. Her body always knew before her brain did. That weight in the air, that pull in her chest, it had only ever belonged to one person.
Azzi.
There could have been a hundred people walking through those doors, and Paige still would have known the moment she walked in.
She tried to hold her focus, eyes locked on the rim, trying to push the tremble out of her fingers. Her arms moved through the motion anyway, the shot already in the air before she realised how badly she had lost her balance.
The ball sailed clean over the backboard.
"Jesus," she muttered under her breath, hands on her hips as if she could pretend it didn't matter.
Cam let out a theatrical gasp, jogging after the ball. "Okay, Bueckers. Trying to kill a bird or just take out the scoreboard?"
Paige cracked a sheepish smile, but her stomach was already in knots. Her skin was flushed, too warm. The pressure behind her ribs pulsed like it was trying to crawl out.
Because she knew, she felt it. And then they did as well.
"Look who made it!" Cam shouted, bright and excited. "Welcome to LA, Fudd!"
Her last name, thrown across the gym like it was no big deal. Like it didn't splinter Paige's chest wide open.
She stayed where she was. Let Rae and Cam cross the court first, let them do the hugging and the high-pitched hellos.
She couldn't follow, not yet. Her legs weren't moving, her heart was hammering like she had just finished suicides, and her lungs were struggling to keep up.
Cam's voice snapped her back to the moment.
"Don't act all high and mighty now, Bueckers. We know you two probably FaceTimed last night," she teased, and Rae laughed like it was obvious.
In their minds there was no other version of the story that made sense. Paige blinked, jarred by the absurdity of it. The assumption that they were still anything close to who they used to be.
Slowly, she finally turned. One second, that was all it took.
Even after all this time, Azzi Fudd still looked like everything Paige had ever dreamt of.
But now, she looked like something else too. Something that made Paige's breath catch in her throat.
She wasn't just beautiful. She was breathtaking.
She changed, her features became sharper in a way Paige hadn't seen coming, like time had sculpted her quietly while Paige was busy looking away.
She was still standing near the door, her duffel was slung over one shoulder, hoodie sleeves rolled to her elbows, neck long and elegant. Her posture had that same quiet poise, but it was settled differently now. Not like a sleepy college athlete showing up for morning lift, but like a woman who belonged here. Like she didn't need anyone to tell her that.
But it was her face that hit Paige hardest.
The softness that used to cling to Azzi's cheeks was gone. In its place were clean lines, carved cheekbones and eyes darker than Paige remembered.
Her brows were bolder now, defined and arched. Her lips tugged briefly, not quite a smile, not for Paige, and the dimple on her right side appeared, deeper than it used to be somehow.
Paige had kissed that dimple a hundred times, a thousand times, but this version of it made her want to do it a thousand times more.
She looked older.
Not in the way birthdays make you older, in the way living does. She had grown into herself, and Paige hadn't been there to see it happen. That was the worst part. Not just the loss, the missing out.
All the days she used to take for granted, now gone. Irretrievable.
And then there were her braids. Goddess braids. Thin, gleaming, pulled back into a high ponytail that framed her face like something holy.
Paige had seen Azzi wear them before, for special events, during offseasons, when she had time to sit for hours and wanted to feel a little extra.
But never like this, never in a gym, not during the season.
It caught Paige completely off guard. The effort, the intention, and the way it crowned her like she didn't just come to train, but to reign.
She looked like a woman Paige could only worship from afar, never worthy enough to hold again.
And yet, God, she wanted to. She wanted to drop everything, walk across the court and fall to her knees begging if that is what it took. She was ready to do it if that would make Azzi look at her the way she used to. To forgive her and let her prove herself.
Because in that one breathless moment, Paige didn't just miss Azzi. She craved her on a level that left her shaky in the knees and hollow behind the ribs.
She felt undone by it. Like her heart had been taken apart and reassembled wrong in her chest, pulsing against a rhythm it no longer recognised.
She couldn't breathe.
And then Azzi's eyes met hers, just for a second, just enough to crack her world open.
And then Azzi looked away.
It was quick, only a flicker, but Paige felt it like a hit straight to the sternum. All the breath in her lungs punched out at once.
There it was again, the consequence. The weight of what she had broken. Nine months of distance and silence. No texts, no calls and no real explanation of what happened.
One late, unanswered message Paige hadn't dared follow up on. No voice notes with bad jokes anymore. No late-night 'are you still up' FaceTimes.
Nine months since she had let her own fear, her fractured sense of who she was and who she needed to be, driven them off a cliff she wasn't sure they couldn't have survived together.
After almost a decade of being each other's everything, Paige now only knew what a stranger would. Her stats and her press quotes.
And it completely wrecked her.
"Bueckers, are you alright?" Cam called back, playful and oblivious. "Stop acting like you are too cool to say hi to your bestie."
Rae grinned. "Yeah, no need to pretend you don't know each other, alright?"
Paige inhaled through her nose, forcing her legs to move. She crossed the court slowly, each step heavier than the last, her fingers twitching at her sides.
Her chest was drawn tight, like she had wrapped it in tape and didn't remember how to breathe around it. She hadn't planned for this part. She didn't even know what she was supposed to say.
What could she say?
Azzi turned more towards her as Paige reached them. And for the briefest moment their eyes met again. Paige offered a small, cautious smile, a knot forming in her throat.
"Hey," she said gently, soft around the vowels, the kind of softness that begged for mercy without ever saying so. "You made it."
Azzi didn't smile back at her. There was no joke waiting on her tongue like there would have been before. She looked at Paige with that same guarded calmness.
"Yeah. Got in yesterday, cannot miss day one."
It wasn't unkind, but it was distant and measured. Nothing more than what was required.
There was no cruelty in it, that would have almost been easier. Tthis was worse because it felt like indifference. Practiced detachment.
Paige recognised it instantly, because she had seen it on her own face more times than she cared to admit.
She hesitated and then, without thinking, she opened her arms. It was automatic and painfully hopeful.
Azzi froze.
You could see it, the flicker of hesitation in her eyes, the weight of decision. But then, after what felt like an eternity compressed into a second, she stepped in.
Her arms brushed Paige's sides but didn't wrap around her. They were just… there. Like she was hugging someone she barely remembered but didn't want to offend.
It lasted 3 seconds, maybe less.
Paige hadn't even gotten her arms fully around her before Azzi was already stepping back. The hug evaporated before it even existed.
Her hands dropped uselessly to her sides and her heart followed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Rae giving her a puzzled glance, and Cam, always trying to defuse discomfort, tried to play it off with a light laugh, already pivoting into another joke about 'first-day weird vibes,' but Paige didn't respond.
Azzi turned her back a moment later, falling into conversation like nothing had just broken open between them.
And Paige just stood there, watching, not just because she couldn’t stop, but because she didn’t know how to do anything else now. Not when it came to her.
Quiet, on the sidelines, waiting to be let in.
And God, it hurt. It hurt more than she expected to realise how much time she had lost. How many pieces of Azzi's life she no longer had access to.
She didn't know what Azzi did for her birthday, or what songs she added to her playlists this year, or if she still wore those stupid lucky socks under her sneakers before games.
She didn't know what she did when she couldn't sleep. She didn't know if someone else held her through that now.
She used to know everything.
Paige swallowed hard and bent to retrieve the ball Cam had left behind. Her fingers gripped the rubber too tightly. Her jaw clenched as she looked back at the rim.
You are here now, she reminded herself. So fucking show up and earn her trust back.
This wasn't meant to be easy. This wasn't some fairytale where things magically repaired themselves. Paige didn't believe in that anymore. But she believed in work, in showing up. And if she had to earn her place back inch by inch, moment by moment, then she would.
On this team, on this court. And maybe one day with Azzi too.
She lined up again. She slowly exhaled, and let the shot fly.
It dropped clean through the net.
The first morning buzz had already burned off by the time all the players trooped back onto the hardwood.
They had just sat through an hour of alignment, slides about franchise culture, staff introductions, the official reading of the new roster.
Then came a clipboard-tight breakdown of the next two-week camp schedule, morning blocks, recovery windows, media slots colour-coded like Tetris. Paige had taken notes out of habit even though she had memorised most of it on the flight almost a week ago.
Azzi had sat a row ahead, back straight, nodding like a model student every time someone said rookies.
Now the air smelled like sweat and fresh pine resin from the newly waxed floor. Assistant coach Danielle Robinson clapped twice as the team finished a quick dynamic warm-up.
"Good," Coach Roberts said. "Keep the blood moving while Danielle gives you your partners for skill stations. We are evaluating pace, communication, and how fast you pick up cues. Four stations, twelve-minute blocks. Talk, rebound for each other, correct each other. Got it?"
A chorus of yeah, Coach echoed, sneakers scuffing as everyone shuffled in. Paige bounced on her toes, rolling her shoulders loose, but her gaze drifted, unwillingly, toward the rookie line.
Robinson read from her clipboard. "Fudd, you are with Plum."
And Paige didn't miss the way Azzi exhaled the moment she heard her assigned partner. It was small, barely visible unless you had been watching her for years. The little release of tension, the subtle thank God energy.
She was worried it would be me, Paige thought, trying not to feel too much about it.
Robinson kept going. "Brink, you are with Bueckers."
Cam bumped her shoulder. "Let's see what we can cook up, Bueckers. You got me today."
Paige snorted. "Can't tell if that's a threat or a reward."
"Oh, definitely a reward," Cam grinned, already walking toward the ball rack. "You just don't know how lucky you are yet."
Cam barked a laugh, tossed a ball high, the lazy arc forced Paige to back-pedal and snag it one-handed, drawing a low whistle from a nearby intern holding the iPad stat tracker.
Paige flicked the ball back, quick and hard. Cam caught it to her hip. Their rhythm was effortless, the kind that came from too many college matches against each other's teams and clearly studying one another for hours.
The rest of the day unfolded in blocks. Station work, team concepts, and quick-break transitions. Cam kept the energy light, constantly moving and always talking.
Paige liked her more with every drill. Not just because Cam was funny, though she was, but because she was serious when it mattered.
She was competitive without being a try-hard. Sharp but not arrogant. By the third station, they had developed a rhythm. By the fourth, Cam was already predicting where Paige would place the ball for her.
It was surprising how good it felt. How easy it was.
Already better than anything Paige had managed to build last season in Dallas. Arike had been... fine. A phenomenal scorer on her good days, but everything about that dynamic had felt like working uphill in sand.
Every time Paige spoke up, it got nodded at, maybe acknowledged, but rarely heard. Half the time her cuts didn't get hit, the other half her reads got ignored. She had stopped calling for backdoor cuts by midseason. No one followed.
Here it already felt different.
Robinson had barely finished outlining a transition concept when Paige raised a hand and offered a variation, one they had used during her junior year at UConn.
Azzi picked it up immediately. Rae asked for clarification, then nailed it on the second try. Cam backed her up without hesitation.
And the most surprising part was that they actually ran it in the next set.
That small moment left Paige more energised than she had expected. Her body ached, sweat soaked through her second tank of the day, and her legs were already telling her tomorrow would suck.
But still, she felt alive. Like she had finally landed somewhere people saw what she brought to the table, and wanted more of it.
They saved the full-court 5-on-5 scrimmage for the end of the day. Coaches picked the squads well-balanced. Paige and Cam ended up on the same side, Rae and Rickea too.
Azzi was on the opposite team
Plum gave Azzi a little shoulder bump as they lined up. "Let's see what you got, kid."
Paige forced herself to focus on her own game. Not the butterflies in her stomach.
She had tried to be subtle all day, focusing on herself. But she had still noticed the little things.
Kelsey shouting "Nice one, Fudd!" after a clean corner jumper. Rickea clapping when Azzi nailed another quick 3 pointer. And that smile on Azzi's face slowly blooming wider with every drill, every touch, and every time someone called her by name instead of rookie. Paige felt that smile like heat under her skin.
And then the actual game started.
The scrimmage was messy, like all first-day runs, but better than expected. Simple screens were getting set, spacing wasn't a total disaster, and Cam was already creating space as only she could.
Paige had a couple clean assists, a catch-and-shoot midrange that rattled in, and even a quick give-and-go with Rickea that got a head nod from Coach Reyes.
But the highlight, the one that made Rae double over laughing and Kelsey yell across the court in delight, came when Paige tried to sneak around Azzi at the top of the arc.
She was too casual. It was a mistake people wouldn't normally notice, except... well. It was Azzi.
And Azzi could read her like a book.
She stepped in, stole the pass clean, and was already sprinting the other way before Paige fully registered it.
"She cooked you, Bueckers!" Dearica shouted through a laugh.
"Paige," Kelsey called, grinning as she patted her back, "you alright? Letting a rookie do this to you on her first day?"
Paige rolled her eyes, palms up. "She knows me. That doesn't count."
Cam cackled beside her. "That's what you get for thinking you are the only genius out here."
But Paige wasn't mad, not even close.
She bit back a smile and shook her head. Because of course Azzi knew her. They had been training together since they were fifteen. Azzi knew the shift in Paige’s weight before a fake, she knew the tempo of her eyes before a pass.
It was almost comforting, in a weird, twisted way.
Because Azzi still remembered.
They played on for a few more possessions, trading buckets and building small flashes of chemistry. Rae banked in a short hook that shouldn't have gone in and cracked up on the way down the court.
Paige swung the ball, cut through, got it back in rhythm, a clean jumper from the elbow. Everything felt like building instead of proving.
And as they cooled down afterward, the weight in her chest wasn't heavy.
Cam dropped beside her on the baseline, untying her shoes, sweat clinging to her eyebrows. "You look like you could do this for two more hours, P."
Paige shook her head, laughing softly. "My legs disagree."
"Still," Cam said, voice a little quieter now, "you look like yourself out there. It's great to see that."
Paige blinked at that, because yeah, she had. For the first time in a while.
Across the court, Azzi was standing near Kelsey, towel around her neck, cheeks flushed pink, hands gesturing mid-recap.
She looked happy.
Their eyes met for half a second. Azzi's smile faded into something softer, almost shy. Paige offered a small nod, nothing more. But it was enough.
Day one was done.
And even if the road ahead was long and messy and full of things they hadn't said yet, Paige felt it in her bones.
LA was a good place for her.
Azzi POV:
Azzi barely remembered the staff introductions, just a blur of names, handshakes, and PowerPoints.
She had been too focused on her breathing, keeping it steady. She was too focused on not letting her hand tremble when they passed out folders with her name printed across the top. FUDD in all caps, bold and professional, it still felt surreal.
She sat toward the front of the meeting room, posture perfect, eyes on every speaker like it would earn her a gold star. The schedule for the next two weeks had been dense, colour-coded, and intimidating. Practices, lifts, film sessions and media obligations.
No time for doubt or hesitation.
So when they finally moved to the court for warm-ups, she was already buzzing. Her whole body tensed up, each limb a little too aware of itself.
Azzi tied her shoes a little too tight the first time.
She didn't realise it until the warmup had already started, her arches aching with every high knee. It gave her something to focus on, at least. Anything to keep her brain from spiralling.
She was here, officially in a Sparks jersey on day one.
When Roberts started reading out station pairs, Azzi didn't even realise she was holding her breath until her name was called.
"Fudd, you are with Plum.”
And exhale.
She felt it leave her body before she could stop it, just a quiet release of tension. She hadn't wanted to be paired with Paige. Not because she didn't trust her game, but because she knew it too well. It would be too easy to fall into the rhythm they already had.
And that wasn't what this was for.
She turned to Kelsey quickly, giving a small nod.
Kelsey smirked, tossing her a ball. "Let's get to work, rookie."
And just like that, something clicked. Kelsey didn't coddle, she gave direction, yes, but also room.
"More tempo is needed here." "Eyes up." "Don't wait for me, move like you mean it."
It wasn't hand-holding, it was a partnership.
And Azzi rose to it. She picked up on Plum's pacing cues, mirrored her energy, and matched her rotations. Every rep felt cleaner than the one before.
By the second station, they weren't just reacting, they were reading each other.
Kelsey's voice sharpened during a ball-movement drill. "Talk to me, Z. Don't let me be the only one yapping."
Azzi blinked, then nodded. "Switch left a bit more and then cut to the middle. Your elbow is too open."
Plum gave her a small, approving clap. "That's more like it."
It felt good, not just being seen, but stepping in. Even though she was a rookie, her voice had weight here.
She wasn't just being tested, she was already being trusted.
Still, no matter how hard she focused, she still… she noticed Paige.
It wasn't intentional, it never was with her. It was just instinct. Her eyes would flick across the gym and land on Paige passing off a screen, or correcting someone's spacing, or laughing with Cam.
That one surprised her.
Paige and Cam had always been friendly, sure, but they looked close now. Comfortable around each other.
Then there was the physical part. The first time she saw Paige catch the ball and turn into a drive, Azzi's breath caught. Not from the move, but from those shoulders.
When had Paige gotten that built?
Azzi blinked and shook her head.
Of course she had, this wasn't college anymore. WNBA defenders didn't give you space just because you were clever. Strength mattered here.
Paige had always been surprisingly tough, but now… now there was more power behind it. Muscles she hadn't had at UConn. Definition along her upper arms, across her back.
She filled out the jersey differently.
Azzi forced her gaze down, back to the ball, back to Kelsey.
You are not here to stare at her shoulders, she scolded herself. You are here to earn your place on the team.
Plum tossed her a ball. "Corner. Go again."
She hit it clean. Let the rhythm pull her back in.
The final scrimmage brought a new kind of nerves. Not fear, just intensity. Real basketball that was fast and loud and messy in the best way. Azzi found herself matched up across from Paige for the first time all day.
It wasn't awkward, it was familiar. Comfortable, even. They didn't talk, but they didn't have to.
When Azzi stripped the ball from her, a perfectly timed reach after Paige took a moment too long, her body moved before her brain could catch up.
She was sprinting, heart racing, the court opening up. Laid it up with her left, kissed it off glass.
Both teams erupted.
She jogged back, pulse still pounding, and her eyes found Paige without meaning to, just for a second. Paige smiled at her and Azzi couldn't help but answer with her own small small smirk, almost sheepish. Not gloating, just… that was fun, she missed this.
They went at it for a few more plays. Paige got her once with a screen fake, and Azzi fouled her on a reach-in that drew a whistle and an eye roll from Kelsey.
Still, when the scrimmage ended and they dropped into cool-down stretches, Azzi didn't look back. She sat beside Rickea and Dearica, shoulders loose, breathing deep.
She had made it. She hadn't just survived day one, she made sure people knew that she belonged here.
Across the court, Paige was laughing with Rae and Cam. Azzi glanced towards her once more before looking down at her shoes.
Tomorrow would come fast and she would be ready.
The locker room was buzzing in that low, post-practice way. Towels slung over shoulders, sneakers thudding against tile, and music playing low from someone's phone connected to the AUX in the corner.
Bits of conversation floated through the space. Azzi sat on the floor in front of her locker, towel wrapped around her neck, legs outstretched, laughing at something Sarah had just said.
"Chicago has got the best food," Sarah said about her favourite WNBA road cities. "And the fans actually show up even though the Organisation is a shit show."
Dearica grinned. "Good food but horrible management. Love that."
Azzi laughed, even though her brain wasn't entirely there. She was nodding and smiling and responding, but the longer they talked, the stronger that feeling grew.
The feeling she knew too well. It was a specific type of familiar.
Eyes on her.
She didn’t even have to look up to know.
it was Paige. Of course it was Paige.
Somehow, in this brand-new state-of-the-art facility, in a locker room big enough to have sections, Paige had still ended up directly across from her. Close enough that Azzi couldn't lift her head without catching a glimpse. Without seeing the line of Paige's jaw, or the shape of her knees drawn up toward her chest, or the towel slung low around her hips.
And of course, Paige wasn't even trying to be subtle.
Azzi had caught her looking three separate times during cool-downs. Now every time she glanced up, there it was again. That gaze, not quite direct, not quite shy. Just… there.
Azzi's chest tightened. Her spine started to stiffen. She could feel her shoulders drawing in, the tension building beneath her skin. She stopped hearing the words around her. Everything blurred at the edges.
She knew what was coming.
People were starting to spread across, some into the showers, others grabbing shakes or heading to ice baths while the rest was already heading out. Sarah waved goodbye and Dearica followed her out, still talking.
The room thinned out surprisingly fast.
Azzi felt the panic rise in her gut and stood up a little too quickly, towel slipping off her shoulders as she began packing her bag with clumsy urgency.
If she is fast enough...
Then came the soft squick of the brand new leader seat behind her. Azzi froze, halfway through zipping up her toiletry kit. She didn't turn around, but she heard it.
Footsteps, quiet ones until it stopped right behind her.
"You did amazing today," Paige said. "Like… not just rookie amazing. Real amazing."
Azzi's fingers curled tighter around her hoodie in her hand, but she didn't speak. She stared into her locker.
A pause.
Then Paige added, with a teasing edge she couldn't quite carry, "But I am gonna remember that steal. I am giving it back the first chance I get."
Azzi sighed before she could stop herself. Not annoyed, just tired. Slowly, she turned around.
Paige was right there, close, but not too close. She was leaning forward just slightly, arms loose at her sides, trying hard to look relaxed.
But Azzi knew her too well.
She knew that the fake confidence was paper-thin. Paige was nervous as hell and trying to disguise it with nonchalant charm and banter.
She had been using that exact trick since they were sixteen.
Still, Azzi decided to let her try. She shrugged, noncommittally. "I guess you can try."
She turned back to her locker, picking up her socks and rolling them neatly. Anything to keep her hands busy and her eyes away from her.
But Paige didn't leave, she didn't take the out. She tried again.
"I meant what I said, though. Your shots looked good today. The footwork too. That corner pull-up off Plum's pass was clean. as hell."
Azzi kept packing. Her hoodie was folded now, the shoes placed into the right compartment of her locker.
But no answer.
Eventually, the words behind her faltered, then stopped. The silence stretched longer. And then… a soft, unsteady breath.
"Azzi."
Just her name, nothing else, but it was the way Paige said it.
That tone, low and raw.
Azzi turned before she even realised she was going to.
The Paige standing there wasn't the cocky one with the fake confidence anymore. She stopped performing and now she just looked… vulnerable.
There was something in her eyes that Azzi didn't want to look at too long. She wasn't ready to think about what it meant.
Because if she stood there long enough staring at it, she might start to hope. And hope hurts more.
Paige swallowed. "Can we maybe… talk?"
Azzi stared over her should long enough for it to settle. For the question to land. Then she reached down and zipped her bag, slow and steady.
When she finally looked int Paige's eyes again, she didn't try to hide it, not this time.
The hurt flickered across her face and Paige saw it, Azzi could tell. Her posture shifted, her breath caught, and her shoulders dropped a fraction.
Paige already knew the answer but Azzi needed to say it out loud.
"I am not ready to talk."
She paused, holding Paige's gaze just long enough to let the weight of it settle. Paige blinked and opened her mouth before closin it again.
"I need more time."
And Paige, to her credit, nodded. Small, almost imperceptible. She didn't seem angry, just resigned.
Azzi started to walk away and didn't look back, but she felt Paige's eyes lingering.
She wasn't running from Paige, but she needed to protect herself first this time.
Azzi barely made it through the door of her rental before she dropped her bag and exhaled like she had been holding her breath since noon.
The place was small, just a temporary spot near the new facility arranged by the Sparks' staff while she figured out something more permanent.
It was nothing special, a clean kitchen, a couch that slightly squeaked when she shifted, and walls still bare except for the one photo of her and her parents at the draft. She had framed it herself the night before flying out.
She toed off her sneakers and padded into the kitchen to plate the chicken wrap she had picked up on the way home. Then Azzi flopped onto the couch without turning on the lights.
Her body felt like it was run over by a bus.
Her fingers moved on autopilot, unlocking her phone, opening the group chat titled Huskies Girlies 💙🐾, and typing without even thinking:
azzi:
survived day one
barely
call if awake ?
Less than fifteen minutes later, she was curled under a gray throw blanket on the couch, legs tucked beneath her, wrap half-eaten on the coffee table. The screen lit up.
Incoming group FaceTime.
First came Sarah, a big smile already forming as the camera turned on. Then Caroline, hair in a bun, leaning against what looked like a full laundry basket. Dorka popped in sideways, still in workout gear, earbuds in. And finally, Morgan, whose face filled the screen like she had been ready for this call all day.
"AZZZZZIIIIII!"
"Look at our pro queen!"
"Wait, hold on, I need to take a screenshot. DON'T MOVE. Okay now talk."
Azzi laughed, heart lifting immediately. The nerves and the tension, they didn't exactly vanish, but the weight eased with every familiar voice layered over the next.
"Okay, okay," she said, trying to talk over them, her smile genuine now. "Y'all are loud. I literally just got home."
"Tell us everything," Caroline demanded. "Like everything, everything. Is the team cool? What's the vibe? Are the vets nice or scary?"
Azzi curled into the blanket a little tighter, glancing at the ceiling before answering. "Honestly? It was really good. Better than I expected. Everyone is… locked in, but still nice. The pace was intense but not overwhelming."
"I bet you cooked," Morgan grinned, practically bouncing on her screen. "Don't try to be humble."
Azzi blushed. "I got a few buckets. Not cooked-cooked, but I held my own."
"Give us a name," Sarah pressed. "Come on, who were you vibing with?"
Azzi didn’t hesitate. "Plum."
All four screens lit up in unison so she started talking about Kelsey. How she got paired with her, the fact that she was tough but fair.
All four of them got the same knowing look.
"Oh, she likes you," Sarah said, smirking. "Kelsey Plum doesn't invest unless she sees something."
"She made me take control," Azzi admitted. "Didn't give me time to overthink."
"That's so good, Z" Caroline said, eyes lighting up.
Dorka whistled. "She sounds like she is claiming you as her rookie already."
"I wouldn't be mad," Azzi murmured, half-laughing. "She makes me feel like I belong."
"Azzi," Caroline said gently. "You do belong."
"I know. I just...yeah." Azzi leaned her head back against the couch cushion and smiled for real. "I actually… had a great first day."
There was a beat of collective satisfaction from the group. Proud nods, affirming little hums. But then… silence.
Too long and expectant.
Azzi could feel it through the screen, the way their eyes hadn't moved, how their faces were still open and encouraging, but waiting.
It wasn't aggressive, just inevitable. She hadn't mentioned her, not once.
Azzi sighed, dragging the blanket higher over her legs. She looked down at her fingers and spoke quietly.
"She asked to talk."
Nobody said anything, but all four faces immediately leaned a little closer.
"She didn't push or anything," she continued, her voice low. "We were on opposite teams the whole day. Barely interacted, honestly. Just that one moment in the locker room after the session."
She took a breath but didn't look up.
"It was friendly," she added. "Like… careful and cordial. But it's hard. I kept... I kept noticing things. The way she talks to our teammates now. People follow her lead already, they listen to her. She looks more comfortable than she did last year."
Azzi swallowed.
"She has also bulked up," she said, quieter now. "Like, a lot.... Her shoulders and back... It makes sense, the league is more physical, but it still threw me. I wasntt expecting it."
Dorka made a soft sound, like she wanted to say something, but held it in.
"And I hate that I noticed. That I kept noticing. I told myself I wouldn't." Azzi shook her head. "But she was looking at me too and she didn't even try to hide it."
Finally, her eyes lifted, not because she was ready, but because she knew the questions were coming.
"So what did you say?" Morgan asked. "When she asked to talk?"
Azzi let out a quiet, almost breathless laugh, not because it was funny, but because she had been holding it in since the drive home.
She looked at her friends.
They immediately understood, no follow-up needed. Four pairs of eyes wearing that too familiar expression. She had seen it over and over again during all season whenever Paige came up.
That soft, sad little look that said poor Azzi without a single word.
They pitied her even if it wasn't intentional. Azzi sighed and leaned her cheek against the back of the couch, finally saying it out loud.
"I told her I am not ready."
No one responded right away.
Then Caroline gave a small, quiet nod. "That’s fair."
"And honest,” Sarah added gently.
Dorka's voice was soft. "She needed to hear that."
They didn't say anything else, but Azzi knew what they were thinking.
We all know that you are not over her.
By 9 p.m., Azzi was already in bed.
Her body had started begging for rest sometime around 7.30 p.m., but she had kept moving, cleaning up the remains of her wrap, brushing her teeth and throwing her training clothes into a messy pile in the corner of the small laundry closet.
The ache had settled into her legs now, heavy and low and warm.
After the call with the girls, she FaceTimed her parents. Her dad had been beaming through the phone, her mom's voice was soft and proud, asking how her legs felt before even asking how the team was.
They always knew what to focus on.
Azzi answered everything, reassuring them that yes, the training staff was great, and yes, she was taking care of herself, and no, she wasn't being too hard on her body already on the first day.
They were proud. She could feel it in every word.
After their call, she exchanged a few messages with Mack, who was still traveling, but sent a selfie holding up a thumb and the caption: ur a pro, azzi. PRO. don't forget it tomorrow when you wake up sore as hell.
Azzi smiled to herself.
She answered a couple of quick emails from her manager, something about a rookie content shoot and a potential podcast taping in Week 3, and then finally, finally, she let herself crawl under the covers.
The sheets were cool against her skin, her phone was already in Do Not Disturb mode. Her eyes were burning and her last thought before closing them was that tomorrow couldn't come until she stopped thinking about today.
And then a ping.
She frowned, barely lifting her head from the pillow. She knew what that sound meant. The only people who came through "Do Not Disturb" were her family, Mack, Colleen, her manager, and…
Her heart was suddenly hammering before she even reached for the phone. One notification lit up her screen.
PAIGE
9.12 p.m.
I get that you are not ready to talk yet. I won't push, I promise. But…when you are ready, I will be here. And in the meantime, I need you to know, you belong here, Azz. You are still the best player in the nation and I am really proud of you.
Azzi blinked, staring at the screen. The words holding completely still while something under her ribs lurched and twisted and softened all at once.
There was no follow-up bubble, no typing indicator, just that. Simple and kind.
Exactly what Azzi needed to hear and exactly what she didn’t want to need.
It was… gentle, thoughtful in that very specific, very Paige way. Only she would think to send a message like that after being let down.
Azzi knew that she didn't send it thinking it would fix anything, but because she knew how much Azzi needed to hear those words, even if she would never admit it.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. She didn't know what she was going to do.
Respond or ignore it? Screenshot it and send it to the girls with the caption kill me?
She took a deep breath. Her fingers started to move before she could change her mind.
The message was sent and delivered, and within seconds, read.
AZZI
9.15 p.m.
Thank you, P.
She didn’t wait for a reply.
She set the phone back down, her hand lingering on top of it just a second too long. Then she rolled onto her side, curled into herself beneath the covers, and closed her eyes.
Her heart was still beating faster than it should have been. Her brain still too full.
They both ignored the message that was sent on draft night. Azzi hadn't been able to answer it, not even after her talk with her mom.
But this one… this felt different. Because Paige had heard her and somehow, that mattered. She needed Paige to know that.
For now, she let herself be pulled into unconciousness and for the first time in months, she has fallen asleep in seconds.
tags: messy friends with benefits, they're both in love they're just Dumb, slightly toxic, but in that sad, we're both human and scared and stupid way
tumblr
haunt me, love, like you promised (444)
tags: ghost au, fluff, literally all fluff, happiest ending you could possibly get if one of them was a ghost
tumblr & ao3
a plane ride away from fate
tags: usa basketball, that plane ride, you know the one, baby pazzi, blurb, straight fluff
tumblr
it's a love story.
tags: bly manor au (but not the lesbians you're thinking of), read at your own risk
tumblr & ao3
multi-part & series:
play a swan song for me, let it sing me to sleep (ongoing)
tags: spy au, paige is an agent, azzi is her guy in the chair.
pt. 1 pt.2 pt. 3 pt.4 ao3 link
something, someday (completed)
tags: this is (not) who i am, 2000s au
pt. 1 pt. 2 pt.3 ao3 link
i only write pazzi. all my stories will have happy endings. feel free to send me asks, anons, and comments but please no requests! you can also find me on ao3
series
can you fix a broken heart (20/20 - 175k) ✓
is azzi just looking for problems in her house so a certain blonde contractor keeps showing up?
if we’re going to be wanted (3/3 - 12k) ✓
they live on the road, chasing mornings that blur together and cities that never quite stick. (w/ @peach4pazzi )
speak now (0/6 - 7.5k)
wedding bells are ringing, but will both brides make it down the aisle? or: pazzi!wedding
not all who wander (0/50ish - 200k)
sometimes love waits patiently at the end of a road you never planned to travel.
conflict of interest (wip)
paige gets traded. the only problem is, her ex gf is dating her new boss—the owner of the minnesota lynx.
one shots
big brown eyes (wnba!paige x spca!azzi - 8k) ✓
paige figured she’d fall for a set of big brown eyes when she walked into the dallas spca. she just didn’t expect them to belong to the volunteer behind the counter.
behind enemy lines (wnba!paige x nwsl!azzi 8k)
the thing about bad ideas is that they usually look really good at first.
ruin the friendship (friends to lovers - wip)
three times azzi thought about ruining the friendship and one time she actually did. based on the taylor swift song.
i only write pazzi. all my stories will have happy endings. feel free to send me asks, anons, and comments but please no requests! you can also find me on ao3
series
can you fix a broken heart (20/20 - 175k) ✓
is azzi just looking for problems in her house so a certain blonde contractor keeps showing up?
if we’re going to be wanted (3/3 - 12k) ✓
they live on the road, chasing mornings that blur together and cities that never quite stick. (w/ @peach4pazzi )
speak now (0/6 - 7.5k)
wedding bells are ringing, but will both brides make it down the aisle? or: pazzi!wedding
not all who wander (0/50ish - 200k)
sometimes love waits patiently at the end of a road you never planned to travel.
conflict of interest (wip)
paige gets traded. the only problem is, her ex gf is dating her new boss—the owner of the minnesota lynx.
one shots
big brown eyes (wnba!paige x spca!azzi - 8k) ✓
paige figured she’d fall for a set of big brown eyes when she walked into the dallas spca. she just didn’t expect them to belong to the volunteer behind the counter.
behind enemy lines (wnba!paige x nwsl!azzi 8k)
the thing about bad ideas is that they usually look really good at first.
ruin the friendship (friends to lovers - wip)
three times azzi thought about ruining the friendship and one time she actually did. based on the taylor swift song.
sweet on you ...let’s talk: pazzi falling in love in dentistry school
MAIN MASTERLIST
tags: forced proximity, uni crush, dental school au, getting together, paige gets wet over intelligence, long headcannon; wc: 4.2k
paige and kk didn’t even make it past the first week of third-year patient clinic before an incident involving an overactive triplex water spray got them banned from partnering up ever again. so yeah, that was a bust.
the professors thought pairing kk with someone quieter might straighten her out and keep her far away from trouble, so she got paired with caroline.
paige grumbled about it all weekend, saying some shit like, “bro, kk and i are the dream team. it literally goes against patient care to split us up.”
but, then she got that email notification and jesus– if she’d known that mucking around would’ve gotten her paired up with her uni crush (the actual love of her love), she would’ve gotten herself in trouble way sooner.
there it was, written in the subject line: clinic 7c -bueckers, p & fudd, a
…yeah, no one heard a peep from her after that.
in her head, paige was totally stressing out. how was she supposed to work properly knowing the azzi fudd was sitting right next to her, watching her every move? how many powerpoint slides had she completely missed by staring at the back of azzi’s head? how many hours of sleep debt had she racked up by daydreaming about late-night study dates over empty celsius cans and shared vending machine meals?
paige was ‘azzi-obsessed’ with things that weren’t even school related. her curled eyelashes. her tied up hair. the way she somehow pulled off those horrible uni-allocated scrubs that looked unflattering on literally everyone else. even on 8am sim-clin days in the dead of winter, with snow pelting down during her long commute, it didn’t matter– because she still had the best seat in the house: the row directly behind azzi.
azzi was top of their class in every subject. practical, theory, it didn’t matter. it got to the point where no one even bothered gunning for valedictorian, knowing the highest rank they could realistically achieve was second.
all throughout high school, paige was a total anti-sweat. like, yeah, she got good grades too, but she never felt the need to brag about it like some of these other nerds. so obviously, she just assumed azzi was the same type– the type to gatekeep notes, lie about her scores and hide away her underground past papers.
except… she wasn’t.
every finals season, the shared google drive was filled up with countless resources:
and at the bottom of every single document was the same little note:
hi! hope someone finds this useful :) if i made any mistakes pls lmk so i can edit! [email protected]
and, admittedly, paige did go through every single document, completing each and every question, hoping that just one of azzi’s answers would be wrong. just enough to give her an excuse to shoot over a small email. nothing crazy. just something casual, like:
hey! p15 in your anat pp, you highlighted ans b, but i was thinking based on the textbook it could be d? idk though, totally open to discussing it! maybe in the library on tue, after class haha?
paige, your future wife girlfriend studymate (lol, no pressure ofc)
but oh my god. fudd was actually cracked because she did not make a single mistake. and while it certainly frustrated paige to no end, there was nothing that did it for her quite like academic competence.
it was honestly getting embarrassing at this point, because all her friends now knew about her big, stupid, fat crush. and it didn’t help that kk teased her way too loudly every time azzi walked by them in the student lounge.
one day in second year, azzi was running late from tutoring d1 physiology. when she walked into the tutorial, the only empty chair happened to be right next to paige at a round table. her friends probably took at least eighty snapchat pics of paige unsubtly sneaking glances at azzi out of the corner of her eye with blazing red cheeks.
she spent the entire hour working up the courage to say something– literally anything– to start a conversation with the girl she’d been obsessing over all year. but every opening sounded awkward in her head, and it wasn’t until the very end that she finally opened her mouth.
“um. is this your pen?" ... "no? oh, maybe someone else left it then...” she immediately facepalmed herself the second she walked out of the room because. what the fuck was that.
so if something as small as sitting next to azzi in a random lecture rendered her completely tongue-tied, then how was paige supposed to survive two entire years locked in a small room with just her? she was fully freaking out.
but it wasn’t like paige was incompetent either. to all her friends’ annoyance, she had that natural ability to get along with anyone, even the most difficult of patients. sandra, her d2 denture case, actually invited her over to tea once the semester was done; they were just tight like that (she actually got straight high distinctions but like. in a nonchalant way, okay.)
still, the high stakes of being partnered with azzi felt like too much pressure to handle. if she couldn’t predict what azzi wanted in her hands before she even asked for it, then she was bascially a total failure. and then azzi would never want to speak to her again, and then they would never date, and then she would have to grow up old and alone forever.
tl;dr: she couldn’t fumble this.
yeah so. turns out she didn’t need to stress at all.
from the moment they started working together, it was like they just knew what the other needed. it was almost freaky how well they could read each other's minds.
they had this natural rhythm of passing the correct instruments at the correct time. when one didn’t know the answer to a patient’s question, the other was always right there, ready to step in. when azzi wanted to call for a supervisor’s help, paige would already be standing out in the hallway, next in line for the professor. appointments flew by so quickly that they were always the first duo out of clinic, no matter how extensive the procedure was.
it also didn’t hurt that all the professors adored azzi. like, you know that one student that just gets favoured for everything? the one who gets handed the best cases and is praised no matter what? azzi was the princess wherever she went.
so yes, they had natural chemistry while working. but paige still hadn’t truly gotten to know azzi for real. she knew she was great at soothing anxious patients and could chuck a rubber dam on with record speed, but she didn’t really know her. not in the way she wanted to.
so when a patient finally fta’d, paige took that opportunity by the balls. she’d chatted up countless girls in college– this should’ve beeen a breeze. but honestly, being so obsessed with needing azzi to like her back turned out to be a much bigger handicap than she’d expected.
instead of feeding azzi flirty lines or smooth compliments that usually did the trick, her desire to know azzi’s hobbies, favourite shows, and weekend plans took over. she spent the entire session just asking questions. it was honestly more like an interview than an attempt to make a move (not her smoothest moment, not going to lie).
but luckily, azzi had no problem buying into the conversation. in class and around campus she tended to be on the shyer side, but to paige’s surprise, she ended up being quite chatty, and extremely easy to talk to.
paige had plugged her apple music playlist into the computer so they could listen while they worked, and it was almost pathetic how giddy she got every time azzi tossed her a casual, ‘this one’s nice. send me the name so i can listen to it later.’
by the fourth fta, paige felt like their friendship had reached the sacred level where she could finally do her favourite thing: make fun of her friends and pray they wouldn’t take it personally. luckily, azzi took to it like a duck to water. they spent hours laughing, bantering back and forth about the dumbest shit imaginable. paige couldn’t even remember most of what they talked about. she was too busy fixating on the fact that they were friends!!!! holy shitttttt. (can’t believe this is my life!)
their camera rolls were filled up with stupid photos from when they partnered up for impression taking: 0.5x lens spams of paige’s mouth stretched wide open, the XL tray sticking out and purple alginate dripping all down her chin (azzi’s first impression, ok, let’s all chill on her.)
eventually, their supervisors started shooting them dirty looks for how loudly they would giggle. that shut azzi up real quick, who was deathly afraid of getting in trouble with their professors. but unfortunately, watching paige accidentally spill water out the side of her floppy, numbed-up lip was just too funny to not laugh.
when finals season rolled around and patient clinics wrapped up for exam prep week, paige found herself sulking over the fact that her forced proximity sessions with azzi were coming to an end for the semester. she knew they were really getting somewhere with their friendship, and she swore one more clinic session would’ve given her the momentum to finally make a move after weeks of chickening out (kk told paige to stop lying to herself.)
she was locked in. like, fourteenth-hour-of-sitting-in-the-library locked in. paige was probably wearing something casual. navy sweatpants and a hoodie, whatever allowed her ass to stay glued to the same chair for hours on end.
she’d claimed a hidden corner of the library after shooing kk away for the umpteenth time.
“bro, go away. seriously, we are not getting any work done together. stop filming tiktoks. lock in."
paige was scrolling between lecture notes and a new past paper that she was really, really struggling with (there was no way professor reynolds had covered this material. were these words even english?), when she was startled by a familiar voice.
“is that last years paper? have you tried question sixteen? i swear reynolds never talked about any of that.”
paige turned, and there was azzi, dressed in her own pink tracksuit set, bag hanging over one shoulder, and lunchbox clenched in her opposite hand. the clock had just ticked over to 10pm, and azzi was clearly on her way out.
“turning in so early?” paige teased. “you know all the material already, fudd?”
azzi laughed and shook her head. it was only the start of stuvac, and there was so much left to cram.
“no way. i’m bussing home for dinner, then doing one last session at my desk. that specific test was frying my brain. i need a break.”
“bus? you don’t drive?” paige asked. azzi told her no and waved her bus card. “wait, you live near the grocery store, right? i’ll drive you home– i need to buy something anyways,” (she didn’t).
“oh it’s okay, i don’t want to inconvenience you," azzi started to decline.
“nah it’s chill. you’re on the way. but can we have a look at this question together? i’ve genuinely been stuck on it all day.”
azzi caved, sunk into in the spinny chair beside paige, and leaned in close to read the screen. they spent probably over an hour digging through resources, asking chatgpt, and debating over the right answer, until both decided to just email their professor and pack it in.
“oh god, it’s 11:30 already. the shop’s probably closed by now,” azzi worried.
“don’t stress. i’ll grab my thing tomorrow,” paige said. (yeah, because there was nothing to grab, dipshit.)
azzi hopped into the passenger seat of paige’s car and god, if that sight didn’t send paige’s head into a dizzy spiral. suddenly her mind travelled to dangerous places, like what azzi would look like getting into her car after a date, or picking her up from the airport with flowers ready in the back seat.
azzi kicked off her shoes and bent her knees so she was curled up and facing sideways towards paige. “you live around here?”
“nah, you know the basketball stadium? i’m like five streets down.”
“the stadium? but that’s over an hour away! it’s almost midnight!”
“yeah, it sucks, but the closer uni doesn’t offer dent at all, so.”
“wait… you’re going back to the library tomorrow, right? we still have to finish that past paper.”
so thats how paige ended up somehow parked outside the fudd family house, walking through the front door, and greeting azzi’s parents. if only kk could see her now.
“i don’t have a spare mattress or anything, so… is sharing the bed okay?” azzi asked, nibbling her lip between her front teeth in a way that made paige completely melt.
that was more than okay. how did she go from barely being able to form a proper sentence around azzi, to sleeping in her bed?
dont worry. paige kept it respectful. they stayed on their respective sides of the bed, keeping a pillow barrier firmly in between. for a second, paige laid awake wondering if driving the whole way home would’ve been more effective for her sleep, because there was no way she was getting a wink while listening to azzi’s steady breathing right beside her.
breakfast rolled around, and paige spent all morning making fun of azzi’s gross ass plate: a combination of raw veggies, boiled eggs and cottage cheese.
“ew, bro. that’s nasty. do you have cinnamon coast crunch?”
just like they were back at uni, the girls worked in perfect tandem: paige passing over a knife without being asked, azzi wordlessly dropping a spoon into paige’s cereal bowl as made their way over to the breakfast counter.
without the added pressure of treating a real-life person, paige could appreciate their natural chemistry as something more than just professional teamwork looking for a good patient outcome. it felt like something softer... almost domestic.
they spent the rest of the week driving back and forth between azzi’s house and the uni library. paige was absolutely bouncing off the walls (nonchalantly) about spending so much time with azzi. but admittedly, katie’s home-cooked lunchboxes and getting to study with someone who actually cared about what they were learning were also major bonus points.
and azzi... christ. she was just so smart. every time she whipped out a long, confident response to a case study paige had been torturing herself over all semester, she could barely contain her heart eyes. and even though they talked over the study table for hours, their conversations were actually productive, not the brainrot mess she and kk tended to lose themselves into.
asking azzi a question was basically like asking the professor. she could recite the lecture slides word for word, but better, because she actually knew how to explain all the technical stuff in a way that clicked seamlessly for paige.
but unfortunately, having the smartest girl in the year as your study buddy came with equal downsides. namely, that it felt like everyone wanted a piece of her brain.
every time they were in the perfect flow state analysing a perio charting exercise, an email notif would pop up on the side of azzi’s screen. some random classmate asking for something, like her opinion on an upcoming poster assignment. and azzi being azzi, which was way too nice, always stopped to reply immediately.
“az, you know you’re not her tutor right? that’s the third question she’s asked in the past fifteen minutes,” paige grumbled, growing increasingly annoyed at everyone intruding on her and azzi’s sacred time
“i know, but i’m sure if i asked her for something, she’d reply quickly too,” azzi reasoned. (that was impossible. if azzi didn’t understand something, then no one did), “and besides, answering questions helps me study as well. active recall.”
as the week progressed, their classmates started discovering the small corner the two of them had claimed. it felt like every hour someone dragged over a chair and took their opportunity to ask azzi the millions of questions they’d been saving up. by the fifth interruption, paige was about to flip the table, and seriously considered putting up a sign: NO QUESTIONS. F OFF! :[
“thanks azzi. you’re a life saver, seriously,” another student complimented.
this time it was a guy from their class, asking what paige genuinely believed to be the most idiotic question she’d ever heard. like dude. no way you're in d3, asking if an incisor always has two roots. be for real.
“no problem joseph! anything else?” azzi smiled, the same smile that paige had spent way too long swooning over
“um… yeah,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. he took a deep breath like he was psyching himself up. “i was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite with me after you’re done studying? wherever you want, my shout! just wanted to pay you back for all your help.”
a simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed, paige thought. and as if! she didn’t miss the way joseph knelt down a touch too close to be just friendly, or how his eyes dropped to azzi’s chest for a second too long.
but before paige could spiral about azzi taking up this very obvious ‘pay you back’ bullshit date, azzi said, “oh... that sounds nice, but i’m probably not going home until past midnight today, and everything will be closed, so probably not. thanks though.”
at first, he didn’t get the hint, suggesting they could even hit the mcdonald’s drive-through for a late-night study snack (mcdonald’s for a first date? gross.) but he finally backed off after paige shot him a long, cutting glare from behind azzi’s shoulder, making sure to lean back just enough to stay out of azzi’s peripheral vision.
“you don’t want to grab a snack on the way back?” paige asked later, already assuming the answer from the way azzi had shut joseph down.
“huh?” azzi replied, abruptly pulled from her focus on her laptop by paige’s question.
“you said before you don’t want mcdonalds… so what are you planning on having for dinner? and no vegetable, cottage cheese bullshit please. i’ve gotta eat too,” she complained.
“no, i’m up for drive-through,” azzi corrected. “i just didn’t want to hang out with him. didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea or anything.”
“you don’t like joesph? isn’t he like… really popular with all the girls in our year? jana froths over him for basically three hours straight in sim.”
“i mean, maybe, but i couldn’t tell you where he even sits, to be honest. and besides, i’m kind of interested in someone else.”
paige paused at the sudden admission. since when was azzi interested in anyone? she racked her brain for anyone azzi had mentioned or paid particular attention to over the past few weeks, but no one came to mind. a simmering fire of jealousy rose in her chest, and she didn’t have the slightest clue of how to quell it.
“who?” paige ventured.
azzi’s mouth remained closed for half a minute, eyes turning away as if she was weighing whether to answer honestly or not. for a second, paige thought she was going to ignore her completely.
“i’m not going to tell you. you’re just going to make fun of me like you always do,” azzi said, lightheartedly, with no real bite to it.
“no way! tell me. im literally your best friend. you have to tell me. those are the rules.” paige winced at the term ‘best friend’ she’d just labeled themselves with. they hadn’t actually discussed the label officially, but she was too swept up in the joy of recieving even small ounces of azzi’s attention to truly care.
“you can’t make up these fake rules whenever you want something your way, paige. it doesn’t matter anyway, the semester’s almost over.”
so azzi’s crush was someone in their cohort…
paige scrolled through the list of names in her head and tried to remember everyone azzi had ever talked to. the problem was that everyone had talked to azzi in some capacity. although usually it was to ask a question, or request her as a lab partner.
so that didn’t narrow it down.
“have you talked to your crush at all recently?” paige asked, fishing for clues.
“uh-” azzi’s desktop dinged with another notification. holy shit. had she never heard of 'do not disturb'?
caroline: hiiiiiii can i grab your rct notes love youuuu xoxo
all the pieces ofinally fell together. azzi had a crush on caroline, and she couldn’t tell her, because paige had replaced her as her clinic partner. she’d basically inserted herself as a total barrier between azzi and finding her love life, on accident. she was a cockblock! god, how could she have been so stupid?
paige didn’t mean to react, but a flash of disappointment must’ve crossed her face, because azzi’s eyes slid to the notification, then back up again.
“right. caroline… that makes sense,” paige nodded, trying her hardest to keep up her nonchalant facade.
azzi’s eyebrows screwed into a confused frown. “what makes sense?”
“your crush?” paige said quickly. “you said you can’t talk to her since semester’s basically over. and caroline works in the chair room across from us.”
azzi stared at her for a second, then laughed. “paige, what are you on about?”
paige shrugged, then turned forwards and pressed the space bar on her flashcard deck, pretending to focus on her image occlude. “no, it’s fine. i mean, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. i’m just your-” she hesitated, questioning where they actually stood, then swallowed, “clinic partner.”
suddenly, azzi’s forearm reached over and covered paige’s screen, forcing the blonde girl to look directly at her.
“i don’t have a crush on carol,” she corrected, shaking her head, smiling like that was the funniest joke in the world. “p, she’s like my sister. that’s so weird.”
paige blinked. “oh.”
“the person i like is sitting right next to me,” azzi confirmed, softer now. “and she’s really bad at hiding her feelings,” she added with a laugh.
paige couldn’t form a proper response, too shocked to say anything more coherent than a stumbled, “wha- wait, what?”
azzi sighed, then smiled. “i like you, paige. i thought i was being totally obvious, but apparently you can’t catch a hint.”
another beat passed as paige struggled to wrap this new information around her head. azzi fudd, her uni crush... the untouchable, perfect, smart girl she’d pined over for the past two years, liked her back!
then paige laughed loudly and full of disbelief.
“you like me?” she asked, needing to be certain. she even felt like pinching herself just to check this wasn’t a dream.
“i’ve been inviting you to sleep in my bed all week. what did you think that meant?”
“i just assumed you were really dedicated to studying…” paige mumbled, guiltily. then, more determined, “wait. if you’re being for real, can i take you out? let’s go to dinner!”
a million places she wanted to take azzi rushed into her mind. she deserved to be spoiled and brought to the nicest restaurants, and be showered with the best gifts to show her how much she mattered. paige knew her debit card was going to take a big hit in the coming months, but she couldn’t have cared less.
“paige, all the restaurants are closed. besides, we aren’t leaving this library until we finish revising module three,” azzi decided, leaving no room for argument.
paige exhaled a great big, disappointed sigh, knowing that azzi was right.
“alright, fine. but after finals, you aren’t saying no. i’m planning a date for us, okay?”
“deal,” azzi nodded, with an unrestrained smile lighting across her face.
they leaned back over their laptops, their shoulders pressed together this time.
neither of them pulled away.
outlook notification: email from school of dentistry
dear paige bueckers,
we are excited to inform you that in year three, semester one of the doctor of dental surgery (honours) program, you co-achieved the highest marks across all four courses.
accordingly, we would like to afford you the honoured position as a student tutor for the incoming d3 cohort studying next year. this opportunity is typically offered to only the top-performing student in each cohort. however, this semester we are extending this to two students, given your final gpa was identical to that of another student.
we kindly ask that you respond promptly, so that we may coordinate tutoring schedules with your co-achiever, azzi fudd.
enjoy your holidays.
kind regards,
dr reynolds, head of school
read more -> uni sweethearts!pazzi studying dentistry
end notes: shout if you asked for this!... crickets... right, right, right. genuinely NO one wanted this unsexy ass bullshit but i’ve hit a tiny ledge while first drafting my other fics so i typed this up today instead. not as descriptive, but used this headcannon-esque format to have fun and quickly smash something out that's more crack style (maybe more of this style to come if you guys don’t mind…??)
yeah so, azzi became valedictorian and paige was salutatorian (pazzi aura farms in whatever universe theyre in) …but it was definitely a tight race. p wouldn't just let azzi win easily, yuppp.
and what did they do after grad? ummm. paige probably stuck with general and opened her own clinic andddd azzi def continued onto specialising. maybe endodontics with a niche in microsurgery or some other dumb ass shit smart people do idk. and she without a doubt popped back in to be a supervisor, and eventually a professor when she had enough research.
but if you guys think otherwise LMKKKK! maybe p would specialise in oral surgery lowkey but idk if she would want to continue with research as much as azzi but yeah. thanks for reading,
-cee!
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