Azzi is the GM of the luxury property where all of the Unrivaled players will live during the season. She prefers to move behind the scenes. Somehow, a certain star rookie with blonde hair catches a glimpse of her when moving in. Now she can't stop thinking of her, and she also can't seem to find her.
Disclaimer: this is completely fictional. 18+ only,
A/N: This is unedited. Hope you like it. I'm not a writer, so please be gentle ;)
Summary: Azzi loved weddings, had loved them since she was a kid and religiously watched ‘say yes to the dress’ with her sister Olivia.
And now this time next year, Olivia would be getting married. Azzi should be thrilled, should be over the moon really. She loved her sister, and she loved her soon to be brother-in-law, Jared, almost as much. So why wasn’t she excited?
The answer was three words. Paige fucking Bueckers.
Paige - - Azzi’s infuriating, arrogant, utter arch nemesis that she couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with. Also known as Jared’s sister/best woman.
So, also known as the best woman opposite her maid of honor, meaning she would be impossible to ignore in the entire team leading up to the wedding.
Forced to co-host events, an unresolved past history, their families about to become one and confusing feelings that arise only when the two girls are around one another. What could possibly go wrong?
… or, the enemies to lovers fic that i randomly got inspo for :)
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a/n: first of all major shoutout (once again) to @emeqem for the support on this chapter :) legit needed it cuz i was struggling a little but we figured it out LOL
def recommend listening to the song of the chapter while reading to set the scene :)
thank you all so much for reading and for your comments since we've started this journey!! im having so much fun writing this, and your support means everything 🤗
wc: 9.5k
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‘all we ever do is talk’ - del water gap
“it was good, it was good, didn't know what it meant..”
six: ‘save the date’ & all-star weekend
i. the ‘save the date’
It had officially been a month since her dad’s chemo trial had started, meaning they were coming up on the end of the first treatment cycle. Azzi and Olivia had been there as often as they could manage, with Azzi stopping by before or after practice and Olivia coming whenever she could get away from the bakery.
Tonight found Azzi waiting in the lounge area of her sister's bakery, after Olivia promised she only had ‘one batch’ left to make, but that couldn’t possibly be the case, because it had been at least half an hour with no sign of Olivia finishing any time soon.
Azzi wasn’t complaining solely because she had a chipotle bowl doordashed and a new episode of her show keeping her occupied. It was just before sundown, and they planned on spending most of the night at the hospital, so she was freshly showered and dressed in a matching sweatsuit, completely barefaced with her hair thrown into a messy bun, when her phone lit up with a text from a certain someone.
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
wyd
Azzi rolled her eyes, putting her fork down to give her phone her full attention.
azzi fudd
don’t text me like that
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
like what?
azzi fudd
like a fuck boy
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
was just asking a question…
Azzi opened the camera app, taking a selfie with her chipotle bowl.
azzi fudd
sry i look a mess
waiting for liv she’s taking forever
Those three bubbles popped up as soon as she sent it, then went away. It took at a minute of Paige clearly contemplating what to say, with those bubbles giving her away and Azzi’s stomach churning in apprehension before she finally responded.
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
looking like two whole snacks
Azzi snorted, then internally winced, embarrassed that she actually just laughed at that. As her shitty luck would have it, that was the moment Olivia decided she was finally finished with whatever she was doing back in the kitchen. “Who got you smiling like that?”
Azzi turned off her phone the way only a guilty person would, but her body reacted faster than rationality. “No one.”
Olivia raised a brow in question, balancing a box on one hip and clutching her purse in the other. “Um, why are you being all weird?”
“I’m not being weird.”
Olivia just laughed, setting the box down on the table where Azzi was eating. “I’m ignoring you now, weirdo.” She took a pair of scissors, stabbing the taped side of the cardboard with the sharp end. “I think these are my invitations.”
"Wait, yay!" Azzi sat up a little straighter, grateful for the distraction but also genuinely excited to see the wedding invitations. "Here, lemme." She pulled the box toward herself, knowing she'd have a much easier time getting it open than her noodle-armed sister.
Once the box was fully open, Azzi leaned back and let Olivia do the honors. Olivia carefully lifted out the first plastic-wrapped bundle of invitations, and the second she saw them, an adorable smile spread across her face. “They’re perfect!”
Together with their families
OLIVIA FUDD
and
JARED BUECKERS
joyfully invite you to celebrate their marriage
Saturday, April 15th
at five o’clock in the evening
The Ritz-Carlton Maui, Kapalua
Maui, Hawai’i
Reception to follow!
“Can you take a picture to send to Jared?” Olivia asked as she opened up the first bundle of invitations.
“Sure.” Azzi opened her camera app again to take a photo, holding her hands still to get the full effect. She had just locked her phone again after sending the picture when another notification lit up her screen.
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
iMessage
Naturally, because her sister was the nosiest person she knew, Olivia just had to look over when her screen turned back on. “The fuck? Why is Paige texting you?”
Azzi, honest to God, had never recovered so quickly in her life, and she was honestly impressed at the way she was able to force confusion on her face. “Ew, I dunno. That’s so random.” She pretended to subtly open the text thread, “Oh, she’s asking for the address to send something for Dad.”
Which wasn’t entirely a lie, she had in fact asked Azzi for the address to the hospital to send him a gift basket of sorts. It had just been a few days ago and there was a solid chance whatever Paige ordered had already been delivered.
Luckily, Olivia bought her act of nonchalance, and returned her attention back to opening more of the invitations out of their plastic covering.
The actual text Azzi received was so dorky and Paige that Azzi quite literally had to take a second before formulating a response.
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
im ngl i wld never admit this but im rly second guessing my previous text
cuz why is it taking u so long to respond
azzi fudd
first of all u prob shld be embarrassed that was a hard read tbh
but second of all yk im not a good texted
*texter
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
you’ve been good lately
w me at least
azzi fudd
cocky much
im blocking u
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
yeah okay.
———
She had no clue how they started this habit, or routine if you will, of calling each other every night. But here she was, doing her skincare before bed, waiting for a certain someone to answer her facetime call.
If Azzi from a year ago, or even a month ago at that point, could see them now, she would probably die on the spot from sheer and utter shock. Because there was no way she was anxiously awaiting for Paige Bueckers of all people to answer her call.
Nonetheless, she had to bite her lip to stop from smiling when the woman in question finally answered the phone. “Took you long enough.” Azzi grumbled, referring to Paige picking up on essentially the last ring.
“Sorry, ‘was kicking Kate and Cam outta my apartment.”
“Aw, you ashamed of me or somethin’?” Azzi teased, even though she knew damn well she had never called Paige when anyone else was around either. It was an unspoken thing between them, that they weren’t telling anyone in their lives about these almost nightly phone calls. Because, as Azzi liked to remind herself, there wasn’t anything to tell anyways. Not really, at least. “Whatcha got there?”
Paige was opening a package with her teeth, and Azzi would be lying if the action wasn’t slightly attractive. The blonde only responded once she finally got the top of the packaging open, “None ya.”
“Don’t be annoying, what is it?”
“I told you, none ya business.”
“Paige.” Azzi pouted, grabbing her phone from where it was resting against the mirror as if to make a point. “Are you really not gonna tell me?”
Paige smirked, apparently pleased at herself for how bothered Azzi was. “Nope.”
Azzi huffed, muttering a dramatic ‘bye!’ before hanging up the call. And, as expected, Paige was calling her back almost immediately after. Azzi declined the first time right away, then let the second one ring for a few seconds before begrudgingly answering. “You done being all secretive?”
“Yes, damn. Can you calm down already?”
Azzi raised a brow, “You really think telling me to ‘calm down’ is your best course of action right now?”
“Okay, ‘m starting over.” Paige sighed, pulling at the collar of her shirt like she was stressed (Azzi was extremely pleased with herself for this). “It’s a book.”
“Oh.” Azzi placed her phone back on the bathroom counter, not really thinking much of it when she asked, “What book?” There was a pause, one noticeable enough for Azzi to stop plucking her eyebrows with her tweezers and glance back over at her phone. “Uh, you good? What book is it?”
Only Paige’s hair could be seen on the call as she walked toward what Azzi assumed was her bedroom, based on what she remembered about the place. Her voice was muffled as she said, “The Seven husbands, whatever, one.”
Azzi’s lips twitched involuntarily, warmth threatening to reach her cheeks. “The seven husbands of evelyn hugo? The one I told you to get?”
Paige finally lowered her phone so her face could be seen fully again, “Yeah, whatever.”
Azzi smirked, entirely too pleased with herself once again that she had this upper hand on Paige. She liked how she felt, all warm and gross inside, at the thought of Paige actually listening to her book suggestion and buying it. Then she sort of hated herself for liking that so much, she was slowly starting to realize what all of this meant. Curse Paige Bueckers and her stupidly annoying, irresistible charm.
Said charm came back in full swing when Paige propped her chin on her hand, head tilting, “You not gon’ make fun o’ me for that?”
Azzi cleared her throat, picking her phone up again and shutting off her bathroom light. “I mean, of course the one book rec you actually listen to is the gay one.”
“Dude.” Paige laughed, a bright one that was a mixture of shock and delight. “You said it was one of your favorites!”
“And that made you want to read it?”
“Maybe.”
The ramifications of that confirmation would have been perfect material to rip Paige a new one, except Azzi was flustered beyond belief. Flustered to the point that she pretended to make herself busy, and was only able to mumble, “Whatever, you’re annoying.”
—---
“You excited to see me?” Paige said casually one night, her arm propped behind her head as she lay in her own bed across the country. She was referring to all-star weekend, which they would both be leaving for the following morning.
Azzi carefully thought about how she wanted to respond to this. Because the truth was almost unfathomable, but she really was looking forward to seeing Paige. To see what it would be like around her for the first time since they started these nightly calls.
Their dynamic had more or less remained the same, save for the occasional moments where they’ve partially shown a softer side to one another. Like two nights ago when Azzi ranted about a fight she had gotten into with her mother over her dad’s cancer treatment, to the point where it almost brought her to tears. Paige simply sat and listened, and if Azzi squinted she could convince herself that Paige looked almost equally as pained by it all.
Or the week prior when Paige let it slip that she skipped out on team movie night to catch Azzi before she went to bed with the time difference.
Little things like that made Azzi pause, made her consider the tiny possibility that maybe Paige was starting to hate her just a little less.
Azzi decided to be coy, flipping the question to ask, “Are you excited to see me?”
The blonde rolled her eyes, a small smile poking through. “Sure, excited to smoke you in the three-point contest.”
“Hate to break it to you Bueckers, but ‘m not doing the contest this year.”
Paige frowned, moving to sit upright in her bed. “What? Why not?”
“My wrist has still been bothering me these past couple days. My trainer almost wasn’t gonna let me play in the game, but she said I had to pick between one or the other.”
“Damn, I was ready for a rematch of last year.”
Azzi scoffed, because she certainly was not looking forward to a repeat of last year’s all-star, which was a disaster to say the least. “Paige, you are aware that you didn’t win right?”
“Yeah, ‘cause it was rigged.”
“Sab won fair and square!”
“You have to say that, she’s your best friend.” Azzi felt her face fall at that, doing her best to play it off. But, something she had learned in recent weeks was that Paige Bueckers was extremely good at reading people. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Azzi barked back all too quickly. She tried to change the subject instead, “So, you were saying you were sooo excited to see me.”
“Fudd - -”
“I don’t feel like talking about it right now.”
Paige looked like she wanted to push further, but once Azzi shot her one of her notorious glares, she seemed to shut up. “Imma circle back to this, just so y’know.”
“I’m sure you will.”
—-----
ii. all-star weekend - - houston, tx
The time difference was really starting to piss off Azzi for a few reasons. The biggest being that nine times out of ten it was an inconvenience to Azzi, rather than Paige unless she was travelling elsewhere. Being three hours ahead of LA meant that whenever Paige was ready for the night and calling her, it was way past her bedtime. But Azzi never complained, because if she did she would have to admit that waiting up for Paige was a conscious decision she was making, rather than this illusion she had crafted that she was in the middle of doing something whenever Paige called.
In reality she was usually forcing herself to stay awake by reading or scrolling on tik tok.
This particular travel day was proving just how much the east vs west coast time difference was affecting her, because she stayed up until one in the morning despite having a car coming at four, and travelling to Houston meant having to deal with yet another time zone.
Ever since she was little she was a morning person, something her sister usually wasn’t. So when her car service arrived at Olivia’s apartment, and Olivia opened the back door to the escalade, Azzi could sense the surprise emitting from her sister from her lack of enthusiasm. “Did you go out last night or something?”
“Nah, just had a shitty sleep.” Azzi fibbed, leaning against the car door and resting her eyes.
She slept the whole way to the airport, only waking up again when Olivia nudged her aggressively. “We’re here, stupid.”
As usual, JFK airport was a disaster, and even though the sisters had pre check, it still took them forever to get through security. When they reached their gate, the flight was already boarding, so by the time they were situated, she only had a few minutes on her phone before she would have to put on airplane mode.
She checked her texts first, reading their team groupchat to see everyone's flight info and updates.
Liberty 🗽
Tash: Anyone flying out of JFK?
Stewie: I did last night
Tash: okay that’s just not what I asked
Marine: I am. My flight is at 7:07
Tash: Okay same I think we’re on the same one
Sabrina: I think Azzi is on that flight too
I left last night too
She shut off her phone, not feeling like explaining how she was taking an earlier flight. That, evidently, would lead to questions as to why Sabrina and Azzi, who were typically attached at the hip, didn’t know each other’s plans for one of the biggest weekends of the year.
Instead, she opened her messages with Paige.
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
wait what time r u gna land
we cld prob uber tg
Azzi sighed, because even though she wouldn’t mind doing that, she had her sister to think about.
azzi fudd
i’ll prob be there earlier than u
but i’ll see u later
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
oh u tryna link
azzi fudd
what did i say abt talking to me like that
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
sorry lemme try again
Would you like to meet up at some point?
azzi fudd
better
i mean ill see u at the game
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
i see how it is
azzi fudd
ik damn well u have a busier itinerary than i do
paige bueckers 😾🤮💩
i’m just playing
see u there fudd
—---
The game went well enough. Paige was a starter while Azzi was a reserve, her minutes limited from her wrist injury. They were on the same team again this year though, which meant approximately four minutes of them on the court at the same time. Azzi had been coming in as Paige’s sub, but when Caitlin needed a break for running point (yes, they were in fact on the same team this year), Paige and Azzi played together.
Azzi swore the crowd got louder when they checked into the game together. She knew people were well aware of how they presented themselves publicly, or how they were still coming off the infamous ‘fuck you’ incident. So she did her best to keep her face neutral, not even flashing a smile when Paige playfully shoved her while they jogged onto the court.
They had been teammates very few times over the years. USA basketball, and one previous all-star game were the only times she could remember at least. And each time something of note happened.
This year in Houston, the noteworthy moment was the fact that within those four minutes on the court, there were four Bueckers-to-Fudd-for-three’s. Essentially one per minute. The crowd got louder each and every time.
Now, it was time to celebrate Team Wilson’s win. The after party was sponsored by Nike, at a spot just outside of Houston. Since Azzi only had one plus-one for the evening in Olivia, she was able to gather her bearings rather quickly compared to some of her more social all-star teammates. Like Paige, who had about twenty random friends that she had to wrangle to get to the party.
Which was also leading to Azzi’s lack of excitement for the evening, knowing that Paige would be preoccupied with her people, coupled with the fact that they really shouldn’t engage much in public anyway.
The Fudd sisters ubered there with Gabby and Marine, getting situated at the corner of the smaller bar once they were inside. The club, which would be the best word to describe the venue, had Azzi reminiscent of her college days for several reasons. One, it was decorated to the max in red and orange colors to honor all-star weekend, taking her back to each of USC’s playoff runs in which their college bars were decked out to the max in paraphernalia. Secondly, there was already a thin layer of sweat collecting on her skin from the close proximity of the high volume of people inside. And, if Azzi had to guess, there was roughly only a quarter of the people expected to attend there and she already felt gross.
She was ordering her second drink at the bar when it happened. A firm weight pressed against her back, causing Azzi to tense, her arms bracing against the bar as she tried to figure out how to navigate out of this random person’s hold. Her neurons were firing in fight or flight, and right as she went to force a strong elbow to whoever’s ribs were grazing her spine, a blonde curl draped in front of her left eye. “Get off me.” Azzi whined, her voice sounding more babyish than originally intended. When a flexed forearm didn’t move from either side of her, Azzi whined again, “Paige! I mean it!”
A chuckle escaped from thin lips, “Fine, Jeez.” Paige raised her arms in surrender, but not moving the rest of her body at all. When Azzi turned around, she gestured for Paige to move her legs, but the blonde completely ignored her. “You didn’t want the smoke today, huh?”
She was referring to Azzi choosing not to partake in the three point contest, instead merely watching from the sidelines before attending the after party they were now at. “I told you, my wrist is still bugging me.”
Paige smirked, “Or you were just too scared to go against me again.”
“You’ve never won before!”
“Doesnt matter.”
“Um, yes it does. I’ve won.” Azzi scanned the area around them, “Where’s your possy?”
Paige let out a startled laugh, “The hell is a ‘possy?’”
“Your groupies, people you brought, whatever.” Azzi waved her off, biting back a smile.
“If you mean my friends,” Paige finally took a step back when more people started to crowd around them. “They’re around here somewhere, I lost ‘em a little bit ago.”
“Hmm, so they are groupies then.”
“They’re not - -”
A very-intoxicated Natasha Cloud interrupted them, sliding up to Paige’s side and throwing her arm around the taller girl’s shoulders. “Aye, PB5!” She let go so the two of them could do some dorky handshake, to which Azzi outwardly judged. “Hanging out with your in-law, huh?”
“That’s not how that works.” “She’s not my in-law.” The pair spoke at the same time, and their reactions to the mirror was nothing if not a perfect reflection of their dynamic. Paige was full on beaming while Azzi’s burning eye roll almost reached the back of her head. Azzi continued, “She was bothering me is more like it.”
“Sounds about right.” Natasha laughed.
“Hey!” Paige brought a hand to her chest, clearly offended. “Whose side are you on?”
“Azzi’s.” Natasha shot back.
Azzi beamed at that, turning to accept her drink from the bartender and offering him a quiet ‘thank you.’ She patted Paige’s chest twice as she passed her, “See ya, Bueckers.”
—-----
She sat with Gabby at one of the high-top tables. They were both doing their best to avoid the many livestreams that were being captured across the club, and had found a corner of the room that was less busy compared to others.
She lost Olivia awhile ago, after she found Sabrina the way she normally did at women’s basketball events in the past. The difference was that usually it was them two plus Azzi, but tonight that was definitely not on the table. “Have you seen my sister anywhere?” Azzi asked, looking through the bundles of people on the dance floor.
“I haven’t. Maybe she’s with Paige?” Gabby offered, turning her attention toward the crowd to try and locate the other Fudd woman.
Azzi bit her lip to stop from saying something dumb along the lines of, ‘that’s not possible, i’ve had paige in my periphery since she got here and they haven’t been together for at least an hour now.’
But that was true, she couldn’t help it. She took note of everyone Paige had spoken to. She would be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that she knew Paige was doing the exact same thing to her.
It felt like every small move she made was clocked by Paige from across the room. She took a long sip of her drink, pretending to scan the room again before brown eyes locked on blue. She crossed her legs and shifted in her seat so that more of her thigh was exposed for Paige to see, and she swore Paige’s eyes widened. She went for the jugular next, shrugging off her leather jacket so caramel, muscular arms were unveiled slowly. Then, she stood slowly, pulling Gabby with her, “Dance w’me?”
Gabby threw her head back in a laugh. “The Azzi Fudd really wants to dance right now?”
Azzi giggled, “Something put me in the mood, I guess.”
Her heart began to race as she crossed the room, reaching the center of the dance floor so she was only a few feet from where Paige was still leaning against a wall. She liked being watched like this, liked the excitement coursing through her as someone soaked in every calculated move she made. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt wanted by someone else, and even if that wasn’t what this was, she let her drunken mind take in the feeling for just a little longer.
Pretending she didn’t care whether or not Paige was watching, Azzi didn’t look over there again for a while. She danced sensually, dragging her fingers over her collarbone, then through her hair, throwing them up, disguising the motion as if she was just consumed by the music. She danced with Gabby, everything around her a mere blur of bodies, some she recognized, others of strangers.
She only paused to finish off her drink, glancing around for the pair of blue eyes she hoped were still on her. Disappointment settled in when she realized Paige was gone. Her gaze swept across the sea of bodies, searching for the annoyingly attractive blonde she really had no business looking for, when a slightly familiar weight pressed gently against her back for the second time that night.
She was almost certain she knew who it was, but she still went on high alert, bracing herself to shove the person off in case she was wrong. Then, the voice sounded in her ear, “Why’d you stop?”, and she relaxed.
She stayed facing away from Paige, but she leaned back ever so slightly so that her back made contact with Paige’s chest. “Got bored.” Azzi feigned nonchalance, taking another sip of her drink.
“I could entertain you.” Paige’s voice was low in her ear, and she quite literally shivered when Paige dragged her pointer finger down the slope of her exposed neck.
Azzi turned around, raising a brow as intrigue flickered across her face at whatever Paige was implying. “How?”
Before she could hear the answer, someone approached from her peripheral vision, tapping her on the shoulder. Azzi instinctively tensed as she turned, only to find Sabrina standing there with a concerned look on her face. “Liv’s hammered and got kicked out. We gotta go.”
Azzi sighed, now annoyed for several reasons, and unfortunately one of the biggest was how badly she wanted to see whatever had just been happening with Paige play out. “Okay, I’ll meet you out front.”
She watched Sabrina disappear back into the crowd before turning to Paige, who had patiently waited through the entire exchange without interrupting once. Not wanting to shout over the music anymore, Azzi reached for the blonde’s arm and gently tugged her along, weaving through the crowd until they reached a quieter section of the club just outside the heart of the dance floor.
“Still not gonna tell me what’s going on with you two?” Paige asked, nodding subtly in the direction Sabrina had gone, clearly referring to the rift between the two friends.
Ignoring the question entirely, Azzi focused on the more immediate issue instead. “Apparently Liv’s fucked up, so ’m gonna leave with them.”
Paige nodded like the answer had been expected. “Okay, I’ll come with.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” Paige shrugged. “But I was ’bout ready to leave soon anyway.”
Azzi bit the inside of her cheek, lost in thought. After a moment, she asked, “But what if they ask questions?”
“I’m concerned for my future sister-in-law. Which I am by the way.” Paige took a step forward, that stupid arrogant smirk present on thin lips. “Why, did you think I wanted to come for another reason?”
Yeah, Azzi walked right into that one. See, she was about 99% sure that Paige was also into her. The way they had been communicating as of late, these small instances of tension that simply couldn’t be labeled as anything other than sexual; these feelings had to be reciprocated by the older woman.
But on the off chance she was wrong, that 1% that Azzi feared she was confusing their hatred for one another for something deeper, made her not give in to what Paige was insinuating. “Obviously I know that.” Azzi muttered, refusing to meet drunken blue eyes. “So let’s go then.”
——
The Uber ride back to the hotel was awkward, to say the least. Sabrina had already ordered it before finding out that Paige, of all people, would be tagging along, so the small honda that pulled up barely had enough room for all four of them. Azzi volunteered to sit in the front, not really feeling like being trapped in the back with Sabrina and her drunken mess of a sister. As a result, there was essentially no conversation for the entire twenty-minute drive.
Getting Olivia inside was a whole other production, as somehow she'd managed to drink enough to become both incoherent and completely immobile. “Genuinely, how did this happen?” Azzi complained, looping one of Olivia’s arms over her shoulders with a strained groan. “I barely left her side all night.”
“She was doing a ton o’ shots with me and Stewie.” Sabrina adjusted her grip on Olivia’s other arm, mirroring Azzi as the two of them slowly guided the drunk woman through the hotel lobby. “I think it just hit her all at once.”
Paige followed a few steps behind, carrying the purses of the three other women. When they reached the elevator, she looked between Azzi and Sabrina. “What floor is it?”
“Nine.” Azzi told her, partially out of breath from lugging her sister.
The elevator ride was also silent, save for Olivia randomly trying to speak gibberish and making absolutely no sense.
When they finally reached their room, Azzi glanced over her shoulder to ask Paige to grab the room key out of her bag, only to realize the blonde was already digging through it.
“Is the key in your wallet or somewhere else?” Paige asked as she struggled to locate the key.
“My wallet.”
“You care if I open it?”
“No, Paige, just hurry up.” Azzi pouted, though she didn’t have malice in her words the way she normally did with Paige. “My shoulders hurt.”
“Oh, well God forbid the princess’s shoulders hurt.” Paige grumbled, finally locating the key and holding it up to the door.
“Which bed is hers?” Sabrina asked once they stepped inside. Azzi didn’t answer her, choosing to just lead the way to the further bed in the room that belonged to Olivia. When Sabrina realized what Azzi was doing, she let out a low scoff. “Alright, just ignore me now. That’s cool.” She ran a hand through her hair, “Can we go talk in the hall or something? Or in my room?”
Azzi adjusted her grip on Olivia, carefully lowering her onto the edge of the mattress before finally looking back at Sabrina. “Sab, this really isn’t the time.”
“I’m sorry, but this is the most I’ve seen you in weeks!” Sabrina threw her hands up for a second before letting them fall back to her sides. “Forgive me for trying to just talk to you.”
“I have to take care of Liv!”
Another voice sounded, “I’ll do it.”
“What?” Azzi’s head snapped toward Paige, who was awkwardly standing on the other side of the room.
The blonde pretended to make herself busy by putting the purses that she had still be holding on top of the desk beside her. “I’ll take care o’ Liv. You guys should go talk.”
Azzi felt like her brain was lagging as she stood there, stunned that Paige of all people, the least nurturing person she knew, was volunteering to take care of Olivia. “Paige, it’s fine really. I can do it, I’d feel bad.”
“I really don’t care dude, it’s literally Liv.” Her voice came out quieter as she added, “I mean as long as you trust me.”
Azzi felt her own features falter, and she wished more than anything that Sabrina wasn’t standing right there. Because despite the fact that she was pissed at the girl right now, Sabrina knew her better than most, and was definitely picking up on the softness Azzi was having trouble masking. She nodded her head gently, “‘course I do.”
Paige opened her mouth to say something else, but was cut off by Olivia abruptly leaping up from the bed to announce, “‘m gonnnna yak.”
Paige shook her head with a laugh, moving to help guide Liv towards the bathroom. “I’ll be in there with her,” She gestured toward the bathroom with a nod of her head, “You guys talk.”
Only when the door closed did Azzi move, choosing to sit on the edge of her hotel bed. Sabrina stilled for a moment, before choosing to sit at the desk across from her. There was a tension between them, an awkward silence filling the hotel room. Azzi, stubborn as she could be, was waiting for Sabrina to go first, considering she was the one insisting they had this conversation now.
It took at least a minute before Sabrina finally cleared her throat. “Azzi I really am so sorry for telling Liv about your date. It was a complete accident, but I understand that it was wrong regardless, and I get that you’re mad at me about it. I just, like - - you're such an important person in my life, and I hate that we’re not talking right now, and I’m sorry that it’s my fault.”
Azzi kept her gaze locked on her hands, which were picking at the hem of her skirt. She carefully thought about what she wanted to respond with, doing her best to not let her emotions cloud logic. “I don’t want to be mad at you Sab. It’s just you of all people know how big of a deal it was that I went on a date in general, and me telling you about it was a really big deal. So for you to go blab about it to Liv was fucked up.”
Sabrina nodded thoroughly, “I know, and I shouldn’t have assumed you told her. That was on me and I really am sorry.”
Azzi sighed, processing what Sabrina had said. Truth be told, it fucking sucked being mad at her best friend. She hated the weeks spent of awkward interactions, not telling her the things she normally would have. Plus, even though she was very much keeping her phone calls with Paige a secret, she hated that the one person she would want to tell was the one person she wasn’t even speaking to.
“I believe you, and I prolly should have tried to talk to you sooner, so ‘m sorry too.” Azzi held out her hand, putting on her dorkiest smile, “Truce?”
Sabrina, who could be as much or if not more of a dork than Azzi was, nodded firmly. “Truce.” She moved over to the bed Azzi was sitting on, kicking off her shoes and plopping down dramatically on her side. “Now, spill. I’ve been waiting for weeks now to hear about this date.”
Azzi let out a loud giggle, shoving Sabrina so the girl was forced further away from her on the bed. “You cannot be serious right now.”
“What? Too soon?”
“No, but I’ll tell you tomorrow. I should prolly go help Paige.”
Sabrina’s entire face shifted, jolting upright like Azzi saying a certain someone’s name triggered something in her brain. “Yeah, speaking of,” She moved to sit criss-cross, “What the fuck was that all about?”
“What was what about?” Azzi played dumb, pretending to absentmindedly take off her heels.
“You being with Paige at the club. Her coming back with us.” When Azzi opened her mouth to respond, Sabrina held out a figure to stop her. “And don’t you dare say ‘s ‘cause of Liv, because you guys were already together.”
Azzi was now presented with the thought that it had probably been rather easy to conceal her newfound tolerance for Paige because she wasn’t talking to Sabrina. But she was choosing to be grateful that Sabrina offered up a genuine apology and they were on good terms again, leading her to ignore that thought and figure out a non-incriminating excuse. “Uh - -”
Thankfully, the bathroom door opening saved her from having to. Paige poked her head out, “Fudd, can you come help me get Liv changed?”
“Yeah, one minute.” She looked back at Sabrina, “Wanna uber to the airport together tomorrow?”
“Yeah, text me when. You’re on the noon flight too right?”
“Yup.”
“‘Kay.” Sabrina stood, accepting Azzi’s offered hug. “I still am really sorry.”
“We’re good, I promise.” Azzi gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Clean slate.”
Satisfied with that answer, Sabrina hugged her once more before slipping out of the hotel room, quietly pulling the door shut behind her. Azzi moved to find her sister’s open suitcase to dig around for a change of clothes. Once she found a pajama set, she made her way toward the bathroom, mentally preparing herself for whatever scene she was about to walk into.
Paige was sitting beside a kneeling Olivia, who had her arms crossed over one another on the edge of the toilet bowl, her head resting on top of them with her eyes closed. “That is so fucking gross.” Azzi scrunched her nose, making a face as she lowered herself onto the floor beside Paige, who was leaning back against the bathtub. “Should we do this now?” She lifted the pajamas in her hands. “Or...?”
“Nah, she just yaked again.” Paige shuffled on the floor, probably to get more comfortable against the hard linoleum. “Maybe wait a few more minutes.”
Azzi hummed, stretching her legs out in front of her. Goosebumps began to litter her legs from the cool tile, her skirt riding up a little when she tried to lean back so she could also lay against the tub. “Sab and I are good now, by the way.”
“Who says I care?” Paige tried to sound disinterested, but when Azzi turned her head a smidge to the side, she could almost see a sense of relief in the blonde. “Kidding, ‘m happy to hear that. You finally gonna tell me what happened?”
Azzi had consciously and continuously avoided the subject matter with Paige. She could easily lie, make up a story about something petty that had happened between the two teammates. But she didn’t want to lie to Paige. Their calls had brought a sense of recalibration (somehow - - this was still extremely shocking for Azzi to process, let alone believe), and lying about something that was weighing on her felt wrong.
But the truth was something she was also not willing to discuss with Paige. For many reasons. So instead, Azzi let out a loud groan, tipping her head back before immediately remembering there wasn't actually a wall behind her. She caught herself at the last second, awkwardly engaging every muscle in her neck to keep from toppling over the edge of the tub. “Can you ever just not know something?”
“Alright, alright.” Paige held her hands up in surrender, the corner of her mouth twitching into a small smile. “I’ll leave it alone. I heard enough anyway.”
Azzi frowned, turning her head just enough to look at her. “You did?”
“Mhm.”
There was a beat of silence as Azzi studied her face, trying to figure out what exactly Paige thought she had pieced together. “You don't have anything to say about it?”
“...Not really.” Paige shrugged one shoulder before letting out a slow exhale through her nose. “Actually, I kinda have one question.”
“What?”
“The date you went on…” Paige started, then stopped herself. Her eyes dropped to the tile floor for a second before she looked back up again. “Can I ask who it was with?”
“No one you would know, trust me.”
“No, like…” She let out another long exhale, “Was it… a guy?”
Oh. Azzi turned her head to the side, allowing herself to take in the way Paige was looking at her. She seemed almost scared, and it made Azzi that much more apprehensive to say the truth. “No, it wasn’t with a guy.”
She should have known what was coming. She really should have, because even though she was starting to understand that her confusing feelings for Paige might just be reciprocated, this reaction could have been confirmation enough. Because Paige fucking laughed.
Azzi practically gawked, “What is funny?”
“Nothing,” Paige insisted, though she was very obviously still trying to stop herself from laughing. She rubbed the back of her neck, shaking her head. “'S just...” Another laugh slipped out, “Remember how adamant you were that you were straight? When you toured UConn?”
Well, yeah, there was that. Of course Azzi remembered. She still thought about that night often, how much she was trying to convince not only everyone around her, but herself that she loved Tyler. That she was straight, and even though her and her high school boyfriend were already broken up at that point, she was convinced they would end up together down the line.
Or, rather, she was convincing herself that as a means to ignore the fact that she was fucking gay. Azzi nudged Paige in her side, “I was a baby, okay?” She lowered her voice to add, “No one really knows, though.”
“Oh.” She nodded slowly as another realization crossed her face. “Oh... so that's why you were mad at Sabrina?”
Azzi let out a puff of air in confirmation. “Yeah. We’re fine now, and it’s not that big of a deal I guess. I jus’ wanna tell people on my own terms.”
“Makes sense. I used to feel like that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but like, you’re hella late to the game. I’m talkin’ ‘bout when I was like fifteen.”
“Whatever, ‘m doing my best!” Azzi added a pout for emphasis. “Don’t be mean.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Paige apologized in surrender. The conversation settled into a comfortable silence, neither of them seeming to mind it. After a minute or so, Paige looked over toward Olivia, who had somehow migrated from hugging the toilet to lying flat on the bathroom floor, one arm flung dramatically over her eyes. “Should we jus’ leave her here?”
“Yeah, I’ll go get ‘er a pillow.” Azzi lifted herself from the bathroom floor, wincing when both of her knees cracked from the sudden movement. When she returned, she helped Olivia to a more comfortable position, slipping the pillow beneath her head.
Paige stood, taking her phone out of her pocket and capturing a photo of Olivia in her, less than classy, state. “Sending this to Jared.” She was still typing as she added, “Should prolly get going then.”
“Or,” Azzi said, avoiding eye contact with Paige as she started to exit the bathroom. “You could stay for a little.”
Paige followed her out of the bathroom, stopping near where her sneakers and wallet were left at Azzi’s bedside. “You sure?”
Azzi crossed the room, stopping with less than a foot of space between them. Her own mind was giving her whiplash, from the overwhelming desire coursing through her that she wasn’t sure she was allowed to feel.
She wanted to prove to Paige that she could be different. She wanted to discover if the version of Paige she had conjured up in her head matched the woman in front of her. She wanted so much, she wanted all of Paige now, but she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to ask for it.
And she wanted to touch Paige. Didn’t care how or where, she simply wanted to have some form of contact to subtlety show how she was there. How she wouldn’t run away this time.
She decided to bring a manicured pointer finger to Paige’s hair, starting just above her ear and tucking one of the loose waves she was sporting behind her ear. She could hear Paige’s breath catch when she kept her hand there, adjusting so that her nails rested at the base of Paige’s neck.
She stayed still, eyes locked on Paige’s, waiting for the other girl to do something. But when she realized the ball was entirely in her court, when she realized Paige was probably too scared to push too far again after their encounters of the past, she took matters into her own hands.
Azzi reached for Paige’s hand that was limp at her side, opening Paige’s palm in the process and pressing it to the exposed skin of her own hip. She didn’t mean for Paige’s hand to cover that much of her ass when she did so, but it was just so large (not that she’d ever admit that aloud), meaning her pinky and index finger were grazing the swell of Azzi’s ass.
Out of either fear or respect (Azzi knew it was the latter, but she didn’t want to give Paige that much credit), Paige adjusted her hand so it rested on Azzi’s lower back and upper hip instead.
Azzi’s voice was barely a whisper, “I hate when you fuck with my head like this.”
Paige responded in a similar cadence, this time with her hand more firmly on Azzi’s hip, the other still loose at her side like she couldn’t move without Azzi’s permission, “I hate when you see the worst in me.”
Curls fell over her shoulder as Azzi tipped her head, bringing her other arm to also bracket the back of Paige’s neck, fingers interlocking. “I’m trying not to anymore.”
Paige sighed, the air leaving her mouth warm against Azzi’s lips. She watched as Paige closed her eyes, forehead tilting forward so it rested against Azzi’s. They stayed like that for a moment or two, chests rising and falling with barely there restraint, their foreheads still pressed against one another.
Just as Azzi was about to open her eyes again, she felt the pad of Paige’s thumb brush against her bottom lip. “Tell me what you want.”
When brown eyes opened, they were greeted by impossibly wide and blown blue ones searching her entire face. Like she was truly torn between letting this happen or pushing Azzi away.
Her breath ghosted against Paige’s face as she whispered, “I want to know what it’s like.” She mirrored Paige’s earlier action by bringing her own thumb to a thin bottom lip, “Can I?”
She watched as the corners of Paige’s mouth turned slightly upright before flattening again. “Okay.”
Azzi moved her thumb to the side, resting it against Paige’s cheek while she cupped her jaw. She waited until the last possible second to close her eyes, wanting to commit the way Paige was looking at her in pure astoundment to memory. She whispered back, “okay.”, then slowly pressed her lips against Paige’s top one.
She released it a moment later, the sound of suction echoing between them. With her eyes still closed, Azzi tilted her head closer to the left for a better angle, pressing her lips to the same spot. A third time, then a fourth. She repeated the sensual motion on Paige’s bottom lip, experimenting with the feeling, her mind refusing to shut off.
‘holy shit i’m kissing Paige’, ‘am i even doing this right, i never lead’, ‘fuck she’s not moving does she even like this - -‘
Just as doubt was burrowing into her conscience, Paige let out a sound that couldn’t be described as anything other than a fucking whimper her hand tightening it’s hold at Azzi’s hip.
That’s when she realized, it wasn’t that Paige wasn’t enjoying it, it’s that she was holding back. Azzi pulled away at the sound, and sure enough, Paige’s pupils were blown in desire, with the blonde shifting forward to chase Azzi’s kiss. When Azzi held her back by placing a hand to her chest, she quite literally pouted, something she would usually make fun of Azzi for. “Why’d you - - what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I thought you wanted me to stop.” Azzi said slowly, lingering insecurity probably palpable in her voice.
Despite thinking it couldn’t be possible, Paige’s eyes somehow widened even more. “Why the fuck would I want you to stop?” Her voice was a little rough, her fingertips at Azzi’s waist starting to dig into the exposed skin there.
Azzi’s eyes dropped to the floor, “I don’t really know what ‘m doing.”
There was a beat of silence, one where Azzi refused to meet Paige’s piercing gaze with how warm her cheeks were. Paige lifted her by her chin, the same way she did weeks ago after the charity gala. The smirk that Azzi usually detested was on her face, but she decidedly loved it now, loved it even more when Paige asked, “You want me to take over?”
Azzi, whose other hand was still cradling Paige’s jaw, nodded, moving her thumb against Paige’s cheek. “Yes, please.”
“Look at ya, already using your manners. And I didn’t even have to ask.” Paige first tugged Azzi’s hand off her chest, then moved her jaw out of her hold. She stepped forward between Azzi’s partially opened legs, the position causing her to look down at Azzi as she said, “Such a good girl.”
Azzi didn’t even have time to act repulsed (or rather, fucking aroused) at that, because Paige was kissing her like every single fiber of restraint and fear and yearning was gone. She kissed her like she’d never get the chance to again, like she had been waiting for this.
Without breaking the kiss, Paige guided them backwards, stopping when the back of Azzi’s legs hit the edge of the bed. She pressed twice on Azzi’s hip as she ordered, “Sit.”
And Azzi, who was in such a haze of both nerves and desire, surprised herself by actually doing what she was told. She looked up at Paige in sheer excitement, the thought dawning on her that she was feeling something. Passion, desire, burning, whatever it was, she felt consumed by the feeling. By what Paige was making her feel.
Paige didn’t say anything else, she just stayed above Azzi, both hands holding Azzi’s jaw as she kissed her hungrily. She guided Azzi’s lips to open with the tip of her tongue, then moved to slide it flatly between plump lips.
And then Paige fucked moaned as her tongue explored Azzi’s mouth, sucking on Azzi’s tongue next, like she was trying to experience the taste and the feeling and the allure of it all as much as she could. She broke the kiss when oxygen was imperative, a wet noise sounding as they both struggled to catch their breath.
“Lay back.” Paige said after a few seconds.
Again, Azzi listened, and if she was being honest, she only did in hopes of getting another compliment from Paige. But, Paige didn’t provide her with any form of praise, she merely moved to straddle Azzi once the brunette was situated with her back against the pillows.
Paige let out a short chuckle from above Azzi, “What’s that for?”
“Huh?” Azzi could feel her brow furrowing, “What’s what?”
“That pout. You look pissed.”
“I mean, I did what you asked. The least you could do was…” Azzi’s voice trailed off, suddenly unsure how to even word what she wanted to say without sounding pathetic.
“You want another kiss?” Paige didn’t wait for the answer, she moved down to peck Azzi’s closed mouth, then lifted again with a smirk. “There ya go.”
“Y’know that’s not what I meant.”
“Then use your words f’me.”
Azzi began to fidget with her own fingers, picking at the nail of her thumb, her nerves refusing to settle. This was basically the exact opposite of Paige being in control, but once again, she couldn’t just flat out say that without losing her barely in-tact dignity. “Hey, stop that.” Paige gently brought her hand to still Azzi’s fingers, halting her movements by doing so. “You wanna take my shirt off f’me?”
“Okay.” Azzi whispered, and she could feel the nervous smile pulling at her features. She moved to sit upright, her fingers finding the hem of Paige’s tshirt. As she started to lift the fabric, Paige raised her arms, helping to swiftly pull the material off. Azzi tossed it to the side, swallowing thickly at the sight of Paige, still straddling her, in only her bra and jeans.
“Now lay down again.” Paige instructed. Azzi obeyed, guiding herself backwards so she was against the pillows again. “Good girl.”
Azzi couldn’t control the smile those words prompted, squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment (and from, once again, being turned on.) “Paige.”
“Oh, is that what you wanted? For me to tell you how good you are?” She raised a brow, flattening the furrow in Azzi’s with her thumb. Then Paige quickly tied her hair in a low bun, her movements haphazard so that it was still rather loose, before laying so her forearms caged Azzi in beneath her. “You like that?”
Azzi nodded once. “Maybe a little.”
“Noted.” Paige smirked. She leaned down to press their mouths together again, and yeah. Azzi really fucking liked the feeling of Paige’s lips against hers. Paige lowered one of her forearms, half of her weight landing against Azzi. “You good f’me to lay on ya? Or is that too much?”
Okay, so also who knew that Paige being so damn respectful would be that hot? Well, not Azzi, who had to stifle a sound in her mouth, playing it off by clearing her throat. “You’re good.” She traced a hand on the slope of Paige’s shoulder. “I like it.”
Paige practically beamed at that, allowing Azzi to guide the blonde on top of her. Somehow finding Azzi’s hands through the darkness of the hotel room, Paige interlocked their hands together. “Imma do you so right, princess. Jus’ you wait.”
She kissed Azzi again, letting go of their joint hands to hold herself up on her arms again. Azzi, remembering that she had free will and a desire to feel literally all of Paige, started to trace Paige’s exposed back. She toyed with the straps of Paige’s bra along her traps, letting herself get lost in the kiss again.
It was good. Great. Wonderful even. She was quite literally prepared to let Paige have her despite typically never adding a notch to her bedpost so quickly. Paige was grinding her hips between Azzi’s legs, lifting Azzi’s skirt, her movements grazing her thin underwear with each thrust. Azzi had completely negated decorum, choosing not to suppress the moan that escaped her when Paige moved to suck at her jaw.
She started to match Paige’s grinds, bucking her hips upright to add more pressure. She was wet. Something she hadn’t felt this quickly and with this little touch since - - well, ever. “Paige.” She breathed out when the aforementioned woman nipped at her neck.
Paige’s kisses began to creep closer to her chest, and Azzi’s brain started to short circuit thinking about Paige trialing lower and - -
- a loud crash broke them apart.
She realized it was the toilet lid closing when a flush followed. “Fuck, Liv’s up.” Azzi shoved Paige off her, spotting where Paige’s shirt hand landed on the floor. She grabbed it quickly, tossing it in Paige’s general direction. “Put this back on.”
“She’s fucked up, she ain’t gonna notice.” But Paige listened, throwing her shirt over her head while Azzi attempted to collect herself.
Olivia stumbled out of the bathroom a moment later, clutching the pillow that Azzi had rested under her head earlier. “‘sss shrine fo dead.” She slurred, trudging over to her bed in the hotel room.
“What’d she say?” Paige laughed at how incoherent Olivia sounded.
“I think she said ‘it’s time for bed.’” Azzi crossed the room, helping her sister get comfortable and pulling the comforter over her. “Night Liv.”
Olivia grumbled something back, but it was so slurred and muffled that even Azzi couldn’t understand it. She met Paige’s eyes as she walked back toward what was supposed to be her bed, “I’ll walk you out.”
“Or you could come to my room.” Paige offered, tying the lace of her sneakers that had been long forgotten earlier. “If you want.”
God did she want to. But she really shouldn’t leave her sister when she was like this. And, as much as it was about to suck not having the ache between her legs death with, the moment wasn’t the same as it was. Not the way she wanted it to be, at least.
“I prolly shouldn’t.” Azzi tried her best to make her tone sound apologetic. She led Paige over to the door, stopping in front of it. She lifted on a slight tippy toe, bringing her lips to ghost Paige’s ear. “I did really want you to fuck me.”
Paige’s gasp was so worth how forward Azzi was being. She groaned in response, her head making contact with the wall as she tipped it back dramatically. “Watch it, Fudd.”
Azzi giggled, “Sorry, ‘m just being honest.”
Paige straightened. “Wait,” She started, looking Azzi up and down. “You’re not drunk right?” When Azzi shook her head, Paige bit her lip briefly before letting it go again. “You won’t, like, pretend this never happened?”
“September 5th.”
“Hmm?” Paige hummed in question.
“The next time we play each other.” Azzi smirked, tucking a curl behind her ear. Still feeling rather shy, her voice was quiet as she said, “Maybe we could - - yeah. Like see each other then.”
Paige smiled at that, which was annoyingly attractive when paired with the kiss she pressed to Azzi’s forehead. “Lookin’ forward to seeing you then.”
“But will we ever get that feeling again?”
--------
im literally so excited for u guys to process this LOL. hope u enjoyed, and thank you for reading!!
contains: themes of addiction, kid fic, exes to lovers, hate sex, LOTS of smut, eventual fluff, angst with a happy ending
wc: 12.6k
masterlist
a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY AVERY 🥳🥳🥳🥳 my gift is strap hate sex. ily bean. also they're sooooooo better friends + iloveyou + bruise + affection by between friends like i can't even genuinely writing this has gotten me into a between friends phase and its like infecting the way i write
chapter three
Azzi can feel when the morning splits itself through her blinds. The exact moment the sun’s rays bleed from cautious and young to greedy and bright against her body, sinking its teeth into her skin from under the covers. Her eyes screw up. She’s hungover and it clings to her like a certain type of sickness. She had been sure to down an entire glass of water before bed, her way of trying to combat hangovers she’s tried to cling to since high school, and it’s only somewhat worked.
Her head is pounding. She grunts softly and tries to stretch out her arms and legs but is stopped by something. The warm softness of a body, inhaling and exhaling quietly in front of her. Azzi blinks her weary eyes open. The light that sticks itself under her lids burns a little and she squints. It’s Kitty there, looking up at her with sleepy eyes, tucked into her front under the covers. Azzi doesn’t remember going to sleep with her. “Oh. Hi, honey,” she says softly, voice raspy with morning.
Kitty blinks at her. She’s cuddled into her, hair a sweet mess of curls around her face. There are pillow lines pressed into her skin. She’s wearing a purple nightgown. Azzi raises her hand and strokes the side of her face. “Hi, Mama. Can we have breakfast? Before Mommy picks me up?” She leans so far into Azzi’s touch that she almost feels bad. She’s much more hungover than she usually is after going out. She lays in bed with disgusting hair and barely wiped off makeup and a ratty t-shirt as pajamas and her baby lays in front of her, asking for food.
Azzi’s eyes shut again. She reaches her hand around Kitty’s head and pulls her in, tucking the girl’s head under her chin. “Yeah, of course, baby.” Her voice is a little muffled as she tries to not move her jaw and let her chin dig into Kitty’s head. Kitty sighs into her neck. The ghost of her breath is soft and short and the sound of it is so small Azzi can’t help but smile a little at it, wrapping her arm around her daughter. “You’re all packed, right?”
Kitty hums into her. “Yeah. Stella helped me.” Azzi hums at this, eyes still closed, holding Kitty close. Wills her body to start working, the sun to stop burning, her head to stop pounding. She’ll need to take quite a few Advil when they make it out of her bed. Azzi tilts her head down and starts pressing kisses against Kitty’s scalp, her soft curls reaching out like prying vines and dragging light touch over Azzi’s face. “Stop, it tickles,” Kitty says, giggling. She reaches forward and clutches the front of Azzi’s t-shirt.
Azzi sighs softly into her hair. It smells good, like the sweet baby shampoo she still insists on washing her with and the slightly fruity mousse she uses on her curls. They lay there for a few more minutes. Azzi soaks in Kitty’s presence as best as she can. She knows this will be taken from her for a week in a few hours. She sighs again against her. “Let’s go get some breakfast.” Kitty hums happily.
Kitty asks for pancakes. Azzi insists on her also eating the last of a fruit salad she finds in the fridge while pulling out milk, and so that’s what they settle on for breakfast. Kitty sits at the kitchen counter with her legs crossed underneath her and her nightgown pulled all the way over them as Azzi stands at the stovetop, pouring batter into the pan and watching as the pale stretch of it turns golden.
She looks over at Kitty after a little. She’s drinking from her cup of milk Azzi had poured her, gripping it with two hands. Azzi smiles softly. “Did you come in and sleep with me last night? Or just came in this morning?” The pancakes sizzle in front of her. Kitty looks at her, setting her cup down and wiping the back of her little hand over her upper lip.
“Just came in this morning ‘cause I was hungry and I wanted to cuddle,” she says, shrugging a little. She grabs a piece of fruit off of her plastic plate. A grape crunches in her mouth as she holds eye contact with Azzi.
Azzi smiles at her. “Good, ‘cause I wanted to cuddle, too,” she says, and Kitty gives her a smile without teeth around the food in her mouth. Azzi laughs a little at her expression and then turns forward again to look at the pancakes cooking before her. “You’re gonna be good for Mommy, right?” She grabs the spatula as she asks. Kitty hums an affirmative at her. Azzi nods once.
Kitty and Azzi eat their pancakes together and then Azzi takes a shower to rid herself of the grime of the night before. It clings to her like a second skin. She stiffens a little when she moves to wash between her legs. She’s reminded of what she had done the night before, what she had done five nights before that.
She doesn’t really regret it, and she thinks that’s the worst part. It would be better if it was a one time thing and she could forget about it, if it was a two time thing and she had woken up this morning disgusted with herself. But she isn’t. It felt good. Paige knows her body and Azzi knows hers. She can dislike her for who she was as a wife and appreciate who she is as a sexual partner. She’s allowed to only like the fight when it ends with an orgasm.
Azzi steps out of the shower and ties her hair up into a bun before slathering her skin with lotion. She throws a loose t-shirt and some athletic shorts on and then walks out of her room to find her daughter. Kitty is in her room, playing with her dolls. Azzi watches her for a few moments, stomach twisting slightly with a mix of her hangover and her dread. She walks out to the garage.
She’s not an addict. Not anymore. She doesn’t think it counts as addiction when she has one vape and only hits it when she’s anxious, which is usually when she’s about to see Paige. It’s been in her car for a week. She hasn’t hit it for a week. It’s nearly halfway gone, too, and she’s promised herself that she’s not allowed to buy another one when this one is out.
It’s in the Tesla. She walks to it, bare feet hurting on the dirty concrete of the garage. Her arms are crossed over her chest. The key to it is gripped in one hand. The garage is hot, the sun pouring into the room, and there’s no air conditioning to fight it off. She furrows her brows a little as she unlocks the car, takes her vape out of the door compartment, and shuts the door. The long drag she takes from it while still standing in her garage burns her lungs the same way the sun burns her skin.
She takes it back into the house with her after standing out there with it for a while, shoves it deep into the drawer of her night stand and then helps Kitty drag her suitcase down the stairs. Kitty stands in the sitting room by the front door, peering out of the window. Her head of soft curls faces Azzi as she sits there and sips from her coffee mug, sun shining until the warm brown of her hair is golden.
“Mommy’s here!” Kitty is shouting after a few moments, turning to face Azzi. The sun backlights her head and paints soft strands of light along her skin, the apples of her cheeks puffing with her smile. Azzi sets her mug down on the table next to her. Her stomach rolls over itself again. Stupidly, she misses her vape. She just stands up and smooths her hands over her shirt. A nervous tic. Kitty bounds over to her bags.
She knows she doesn’t have to go outside. She knows that their normal is for her to help Kitty get her things out the door and then stand in the window and make sure she gets in the car okay and then spend a week pretending she doesn’t miss her daughter. She’s still nervous to even look at Paige, though. To have to genuinely face her, even if it’s through the glass panels of the window next to the front door, and know what they’ve done.
The door opens and the Californian morning washes itself into the house, humidity and heat and a soft breeze letting itself in the opposite way as Kitty starts dragging her things out onto the porch. Azzi helps her get the suitcase over the track of the doorway and then helps her settle her duffle on top. When Azzi can hear Paige’s car getting closer to the end of the driveway and the beginning of her home, she presses a last kiss and an “I love you” into Kitty’s hair and then softly shuts the door.
Paige had driven her Range Rover today. She rolls to a stop right in front of the porch. Azzi peers through the window, watching as Kitty bounces with excitement. The sun gleams off of the shiny black paint of the car and reflects off of the window when Paige opens the door to get out. Her hair is pulled back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck and she’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts. She smiles widely at Kitty when she gets out, opening her arms for a hug. Kitty runs to her.
Azzi’s chest burns. She watches as Paige scoops Kitty up, her squeals so loud they slip through the front door. She clings to Paige with little limbs. At night, when they’re at a club or a party, Paige’s features are sharp and cold and precise. Here, in the warmth of the morning sun, her eyes squint with a gummy smile and her cheeks turn slightly rosy with the expression.
She comes to the front door and collects Kitty’s things, setting her down so she isn’t juggling a child and multiple bags. She watches as Kitty insists on carrying her duffel as she always does. Paige grabs her little hand and leads her back to the car, opening the back to set her bags back there. She lifts Kitty up and sets her inside the car. The black box steals her from Azzi’s gaze. She leans forward, forehead pressing against the cold window. Paige rounds the front of her car, gets in the driver’s seat, and heads off.
Azzi thinks she could live a thousand lives and still never have enough time with Kitty. It burns knowing she only has one and shared custody has split even that in half. She sighs and her breath collects in a soft oval against the glass. And then she steps away, raising a hand to wipe away both the fog from her breath and the mark left from the lotion on her face and then walks back into her sitting room to finish her cup of coffee.
She’s just finishing it, legs kicked up on the arm of the chair she’s sitting in, when there’s a knock at the door. She looks up from where she’s been staring off and spacing out. The door opens itself. More sunlight wipes itself along the house. It’s Caroline standing in the doorway, though she’s who Azzi was expecting when the guest had let themself in. “Hi. My dad dropped off nice donuts and I wanted to eat them with you.” She holds up a white confection box as she speaks, shutting the door behind her.
Azzi leans over to set her mug down on the coffee table next to her. Caroline kicks her flip flops off next to her door. “Oh, hi. I just ate a shit ton of pancakes with Kitty.” Azzi starts twisting herself to sit normally in her chair.
Caroline scoffs, walking towards her. “You can stomach a donut, too.” Her bare feet pad against the rug that swallows the tile floor of the sitting area. Azzi elects not to care about eating on her expensive furniture today.
Azzi makes a face at her. “You tryna fatten me up?” She starts getting up out of the chair to grab herself a glass of water or another cup of coffee. Caroline sits down on the couch closest to where she’s sat. The cushions swallow her weight ungracefully. She nearly tips the entire box of donuts over onto the space next to her.
Neither girl acknowledges this. Caroline just rolls her eyes, leaning forward to put the box on the coffee table sitting low to the ground in front of them. “Oh, please. The fat just goes to your boobs and your ass, it’s so unfair.”
Azzi laughs and waves her hand at her. “Stop, you flatter me,” she says, and Caroline snorts a little, another eye roll being sent Azzi’s way. “D’you want some coffee?” Caroline hums. Azzi leaves her to stretch out on the couch, walking into her kitchen to brew more coffee.
The kitchen is kind around her as the morning continues to bleed on. Her Keurig makes the entire room smell like the coffee pods she places into the machine. She lets it drip into mugs, adds creamer and a little bit of sugar, and then walks back to her sitting room. Caroline is already eating a donut. Azzi hands her one of the cups of coffee and sits down, tearing off half of a donut to nibble on.
Conversation ebbs and flows. They spend time eating and drinking and sitting. Azzi’s stomach feels warm with the amount of coffee she’s had this morning. She gets up to take Advil at one point, body weak and worn out. The armchair swallows her when she sits back down in it.
They’re quiet for a little. Caroline sighs into her mug as she pulls it down from her mouth, swallowing the coffee. Azzi bites lazily at the skin around her nails. “Oh, also. Something I wanted to bring up.” Azzi looks up at her. Her eyes are shining a little, face more mischievous than it just had been. There’s a small smile curving her lips. Her brows raise almost teasingly at Azzi. This starts to worry her. “I saw what you did. Last night.”
This makes her heart drop. This makes her stomach immediately tie itself into a knot, insides churning, a cold fear drenching her. She furrows her brows. “What?” The word is blurted out. Caroline nods once at her. It’s slow, still teasing, still drawing dread tight in Azzi’s abdomen. She can feel herself start genuinely sweating. The armchair feels like it’s swallowing her. “Whatever you saw, it’s not- it wasn’t like that, I swear,” she says, blinking at Caroline with large eyes.
Caroline scoffs, rolling her eyes. Azzi is extremely unnerved by how casually she’s acting about this. Azzi starts scratching the skin of her forearm. It feels obsessive. “Dude, I literally watched you guys make out. It was definitely like that.” This only makes Azzi feel even more terrified. Because Azzi didn’t even kiss Paige until they were both in the car. So if Caroline had seen them making out, she probably also saw all of the unclothing, and what all came after that.
Azzi’s brows furrow. Her eyes stay wide. “What the fuck? Through the car window?” She nearly splutters the words out, fear gripping her. Hooking up with Paige was supposed to be her weird little secret she was going to take to the grave. Not something her best friend brings up casually over donuts the morning after.
Caroline’s brows furrow a little as well, matching Azzi’s expression. Azzi’s heart beats in her ears. Her grip on her coffee cup is so tight she thinks the ceramic might shatter in her hands. “Wait, what are you talking about? I’m talking about you making out with Halle in the kitchen. What are you talking about?”
And suddenly, it all very much makes sense. Caroline did not watch Azzi hook up with Paige through the tinted windows of her Jeep. She simply saw the root cause of their hook up, the preceding event, the random makeout she had with one of her friends. She physically relaxes, her sudden and tight fear starting to leak from her. “Oh. Oh, okay.” Caroline, though, becomes more confused.
Her brows are so furrowed Azzi can’t see any of her lashes anymore, eyebrows swallowing the smudge of them. She leans forward a little. Azzi stays right where she is. Her heart is starting to calm. “Azzi. What are you talking about? What did you do?” Azzi raises her coffee to her mouth to take a sip from it. Caroline stays staring at her.
Azzi lowers the mug slowly, bitter liquid stinging the inside of her mouth with warmth. She swallows. Caroline is watching her so intently that Azzi inadvertently feels herself become a little anxious again. “I…nothing. I did nothing, I’ve never done anything in my life.” The words come out a little tight. She stays relaxed against the couch, though, trying to continue to calm herself.
Caroline narrows her eyes at her. “You’re acting so weird right now. You definitely did something. And you’re not telling me.” Azzi squints back. Her mouth stays shut. Caroline watches her for a long few moments, the silence between them warm with sunlight. And then she softens. All the way, every hard feature smoothing into a sweet one, brows knitting. “Dude, just tell me. Whatever it is, you’re my best friend and I’m gonna support you.” She says it kindly, quietly, so completely different than the accusatory way she’s just been speaking that Azzi can do nothing but look down into her lap to try to hide the flush of her cheeks. “Az,” she says gently.
Azzi knows this can go one of two ways. She can tell Caroline or she can lie. Telling someone will make it that much more real, that much more something she genuinely did. But it will also mean she has someone. Her best friend, the girl she trusts with her life. The girl she’s wanted to tell since the beginning, if she’s being honest. She doesn’t look up at her as her lips part. “I hooked up with Paige. In her car.”
Silence. Silence so deafening Azzi thinks one of them must have died, that something has reached its greedy hands in Azzi’s ears or down Caroline’s throat. She looks up from her lap. Caroline is staring at her with a blank, frozen expression. Her eyes are wide and almost hollow on her face. Azzi’s abdomen burns with embarrassment. She looks down again. Her coffee looks back up lazily. “What?”
She chews on the inside of her cheek a little. “When I disappeared for, like, thirty minutes in the middle of the party? Paige and I were hooking up in her car.” Azzi glances up at Caroline again. She’s still staring at her with that same expression. Her mouth is slightly agape. Azzi’s face twists into a small wince at her.
Another bout of silence. Azzi doesn’t know why she chooses to continue humiliating herself. She raises her coffee cup back up to her mouth in hopes that the bitter burn of it will wipe from her tongue anything else she could spill. “Why?” It’s a little loud.
She swallows. Sighs. Squeezes the mug in her grip like it will fight back. “I…like, I dunno.” The words are mumbled. She can feel Caroline still staring at her. Her face feels warm. Her hangover and her embarrassment are starting to lead her to believe she might see that donut and those pancakes again. “She just…she keeps fighting with me, and I fight back, and then we somehow end up fucking.” Her face is burning by the time she finishes.
“Keeps? This has happened multiple times?” Caroline sounds incredulous. Azzi winces again at her tone, thumbing over the rim of her coffee mug.
“Only twice,” she mumbles, eyes down.
She can hear Caroline start to gawk at her. She stares down into the soft brown of her mug and just takes the look, not daring to look up and meet it. Silence settles between them again like a layer of dust they keep disturbing and then leaving to calm. Azzi drinks from her mug again. Her eyes stay down. “Azzi. You fucked your ex-wife twice? When…What?”
And at this, she finally looks up, pouting a little at Caroline. Caroline still looks somewhat shellshocked. Azzi isn’t really surprised by this reaction. “This is why I didn’t tell you, ‘cause I knew you wouldn’t like it,” she whines, grip still tight on the mug, face still feeling warm. Caroline has been subject to many of Azzi’s rants regarding how much she hates her ex-wife. To be told that Azzi has had sex with her multiple times is probably more than shocking.
Caroline closes her jaw. “No. Okay. I’m being supportive. I’m turning on supportive Carol.” She rolls her shoulders back and straightens her posture. Her eyes shut as if to physically reboot herself. Her fingers flutter against her coffee cup. She opens her eyes again, face pulled into a carefully neutral expression. “Did you…like it? Was it good?”
Azzi all but scowls at her, face still hot. “We were married for five years, Carol, of course it was good,” she says, and then she groans, throwing her head back. One of her hands comes to rest over her eyes. The slight darkness it offers isn’t enough to soothe her. She is so, so fucked, and while this fact has been haunting her over her shoulder since the moment Paige had followed her into that bathroom stall, it is now heavy in her gut, winding itself around her spinal chord. “I can’t believe myself.”
Caroline sighs. It’s quiet, a gentle gust Azzi doesn’t think she was meant to hear. Azzi drags herself back into a somewhat normal sitting position, looking over at the woman sitting on her couch. Caroline’s lips are twisted a little like she’s biting the insides of them. Azzi’s expression feels a little miserable on her face. “Do you like her? Like, like like her?”
And the answer should come so easily to Azzi. It should just be one word - should just be no, if she’s being honest - but it isn’t. It’s no words. She blanks, she stalls. And then it’s so many words, mouth parting. She doesn’t like like Paige. Paige is her ex-wife. Paige was the love of her life. Paige is the one who fingered her in a club bathroom and let Azzi touch her back. Paige is the mother of her child. Paige is Paige and Azzi hasn’t like like-d her since they were married. “I don’t think so?”
Caroline winces at her. “That doesn’t sound very convincing,” she retorts almost immediately, and Azzi is slightly horrified. Why is this suddenly a hard question for her? They’ve been divorced for nearly a year now. And sure, the divorce was Paige’s idea, and sure, Azzi was heartbroken for months, but she’s moved on from that. This is sex. The way they’re doing it is purely transactional and this is a truth she feels in the depths of her body.
“Well, okay. Like, I hate her. But I was also in love with her for so long, y’know? So it’s, like, hating her feels wrong. Especially when we’re…y’know. But I hate her.” She squints a little as she speaks. She doesn’t know if she’s trying harder to convince herself or Caroline. Caroline just looks at her blankly, that same “supportive Carol” face slipping over her features. Azzi groans and covers her face with her hand again. “It’s complicated. But I don’t like her. Not like that.”
Caroline inhales, nodding a little. Azzi furrows her brows and looks down. Her stomach hurts talking about this. The creamer in her coffee tries to separate from the brown of the bean, white swirls trying to break open across the top of her mug. “Like, you don’t love her anymore, but you’d let her hit again?”
She says it so casually it surprises Azzi. She immediately looks up, brows furrowed a little. She hates the way Caroline has phrased that. “Dude, what is wrong with you?” She squints a little as she says it.
Caroline’s eyes widen a little at this, clearly a little offended and shocked by the comment. “What’s wrong with you, are you kidding? I’m trying so hard to process the fact that you’ve fucked your ex-wife I thought you hated multiple times.” She almost scowls at Azzi as she says it.
Heat rises to Azzi’s face. She knows Caroline is right, but she’s still so embarrassed she fights back, throwing one hand up and letting her other grip her coffee mug. “You’ve fucked around with your exes before! Remember Brandon? You went back to him, like, four times, and it was just for sex every single time.”
“There’s a difference between hooking up with your ex-boyfriend of four months and hooking up with your ex-wife of five years who you have shared custody of a child with,” she says, eyes still narrow.
Azzi groans and pouts a little. “Don’t phrase it like that,” she says, almost whining. She throws her head back again. She’s met with her ceiling again, Caroline’s stare being stripped from her. Her stomach still hurts. Her face still feels warm. Her chest feels like its own living thing beating on inside of Azzi, burning and uncontrollable and aching with something that feels like a sick fever.
They’re quiet for a few moments longer. “Can I ask you something?” Caroline’s voice is gentler when she breaks the silence. Azzi hums a confirmation, refusing to tilt her head back down. The noise is tight in her bent neck as she makes it. She hears Caroline sigh a little more. “When was the first time you guys…? If last night was the second?”
Azzi scrunches her nose. “Saturday. When we went clubbing.” Her voice is almost rasping. Sunlight bleaches her exposed throat where it can press its hands against her skin. Caroline goes quiet like she’s thinking.
“But I watched you order your Uber home and you never left the club. And you didn’t leave your house, either, after getting home. I didn’t get a Life360 notification. And she wouldn’t’ve had a car there.” Caroline sounds genuinely confused, which Azzi thinks is the worst part. She can feel her face heating more, can feel her stomach tying itself into knots.
She blinks up at the ceiling. Squints a little, thrums her hands against the mug of her coffee. Caroline is silent where she sits. She’s awaiting an explanation Azzi doesn’t plan on giving. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Azzi whispers after a few moments. Her cheeks flush even further as she says the words.
Caroline stays quiet for a little longer. “Okay…okay. Well. Do you…want it to keep going?” Her voice is careful. She’s trying to be kind again. And while Azzi appreciates it, there’s no way to speak any words relating to this situation that won’t wrap anxiety tight into the empty space of her abdomen.
Azzi tips her head back down to look at her. Caroline has trained her face to be blank again, eyes soft, the line of her lips neutral. It doesn’t really make Azzi feel any better. She sighs softly. “I dunno. Like, it’s good sex, Carol. But it complicates things.”
Caroline squints a little. “But it’s good sex.” Azzi nods slowly. Caroline mimics the action back, looking at her almost carefully. Azzi raises her mug to her lips to have something to do. “Okay, well. I say…don’t go out of your way to initiate things, then. And…if you want it to be more than sex, then let it be that if it gets there. And if you don’t, then don’t let it be anything more than sex. You guys know each other. You’re a grown woman, Az. Do what’s right.”
Azzi lowers the mug. “I don’t want it to be more than sex.” It’s quiet but firm. She looks at Caroline as she says it. Caroline just looks back at her blankly. Distantly, Azzi thinks she looks like she really doesn’t believe her, but she decides to ignore this in favor of letting the words simmer in the air of her sitting room like they’ll press themselves into her skin and prove themselves to be true.
Caroline nods once. Azzi nods back. A bird chirps outside and the sound of it slips its way in between them, softening the silence just enough to ease some of Azzi’s nerves. “Okay. Then don’t go out of your way to initiate things and don’t let it be more than sex.” Azzi nods again at this. Caroline nods back. She reaches for her half eaten donut off of the coffee table. Azzi stares down into her coffee again.
It’s this conversation Azzi tries to cling to the words of as she’s wandering around a club on a Tuesday night with her friends. It’s this conversation that Azzi, drunk and warm and giggling almost maniacally with Halle and Violet as they stand off to the side of a larger conversation, tries to remember the main idea of. The advice given and the confessions made and what Caroline had tried to imprint into her: don’t initiate and don’t let it be more than sex.
She doesn’t even know if Paige is here tonight. She doesn’t know if it’s the same club as before - it’s too crowed and she’s too drunk to be able to draw similarities - and doesn’t know if Paige would even go out on a week night if she has Kitty. But she remembers them anyway. Maybe they’re applicable to random hook ups as well. Maybe she should just have a random one night stand tonight so she doesn’t have to say that she’s had sex twice this month and it was with her ex-wife both times.
They’ve been here for a few hours now. It’s late out and Azzi can feel it in the way that darkness has bled across all of the few windows and the people around them are getting lazier and drunker as they rely on the adrenaline of intoxication to keep them up. Azzi isn’t different from any of them. She’s on her fourth drink and can feel the way she’s gotten messier, warmer, closer to something malleable and fun than the hard shape she can be when she’s stressed.
She’s with Calliope and Emi, sitting around with a large group of people that seems to change as people pop in and out of conversation. Azzi likes them. She’s starting to recognize the people she’s only ever interacted with while drunk. There’s three guys she remembers the names of who she finds really funny and a girl Calliope seems to be really good friends with that Azzi has had multiple conversations with. Everyone is funny and fun and she’s comfortable where she is, even if she doesn’t recognize everyone.
Emi leans into her a little. Sighs softly, the gust of it carrying the scent of liquor and a slight tone that makes Azzi try to hone her attention away from the larger group and towards her. Emi is looking at her through the poor lighting of the club and it takes Azzi more than a moment for her eyes to focus. “I really need to pee. Will you come with me?”
Azzi scrunches her nose a little at her. Emi tilts her head to the side, already picking up on her expression and trying to soften herself to convince Azzi. Her sheet of raven hair has been coaxed into bouncy curls and they shift and shine with the movement. “I don’t need to. I don’t wanna break the seal.” She raises her glass to her lips again.
Emi pouts. “Please? Seeing the inside of a bathroom isn’t gonna make you need to pee.” Azzi glances over someone’s head to look lazily over at Caroline, who is standing and laughing with other people. Calliope has been talking to the same guy next to her for a while now. If Emi leaves, she’s sure she could insert herself back into the larger conversation, but she doesn’t really want to. Too drunk to think of quick responses, not drunk enough to not feel at least a little awkward sitting there silently.
She turns back to Emi and sighs a little. Her drink gets set back down, alcohol burning as it slides down her throat. “Ugh, fine. But you better be quick.” Emi beams at her and her cheekbones and teeth shine at Azzi in the lights. Azzi laughs a little and they both start moving to excuse themselves from the group.
The bathroom is tucked away into a corner Azzi and Emi file into, giggling over nothing as they do so. Azzi thinks it might be the same club as the week before; the bathroom looks familiar, stall walls thankfully tall and lighting low. Emi leaves and walks into a stall. Azzi walks up to the backlit mirror to dig in her pocket and start smoothing another layer of lipgloss over her lips.
Her eyes aren’t really focusing. She can feel the doefoot applicator sliding past the line of her lips and dipping onto the skin around her mouth and starts trying to wipe the smudges away with the edge of her thumb. The music pours itself into the marrow of her bones. “Why’re you always around? Stalking me or somethin’?” The sound of a very familiar voice startles Azzi into looking away from her own reflection and up in the mirror to where she thinks she hears it from.
Paige is stepping out of one of the stalls just behind Azzi and walking towards the sink, pulling up the sleeves of her shirt. Azzi’s heart squeezes a little in her chest. The words sound slurred, but not necessarily mean. There’s a light tease to them. It isn’t a full argument. She still furrows her brows a little as she meets her eye in the mirror. “Why are you always around? This is your third time coming up to me while ‘m out in the last two weeks.”
Paige’s nose scrunches a little. Annoyingly, it’s a very cute expression. Azzi’s eyes still feel hazy as she watches Paige walk closer to the mirror. Her eyes shine brighter the less distance there is between them. “Hey. I didn’t come up to you, you’re just in the way. And you came up to me last time.” The sound of the sink turning on. Azzi looks down from the mirror.
She’s at the sink right next to Azzi. She could have chosen any other sink and she’s at the one closest to Azzi. She looks up from the running water to Paige, whose head is turned down. “No, ‘cause you came up to me later. Remember?” Azzi’s voice becomes almost a mumble near the end of the words. Her eyes trace the outline of Paige’s side profile, the smooth slope of her nose and shine of her skin and straight of her jaw.
Paige looks up. Her head tilts a little to the side. “I remember,” she says, equally as quiet as Azzi is. The tone of her voice makes Azzi nearly freeze where she is, just looking over at the girl next to her. Paige holds eye contact for a moment longer. Azzi can feel a familiar heat creeping around her. Her inebriation makes it only worse. Paige looks down at the sink again. “Are you, like, in Violet’s little group now?”
At this, Azzi’s expression darkens a little with a heat different than what has started trying to choke her out from the abdomen up. “I’m not doing heroin,” she says, voice suddenly a little harsher.
Paige furrows her brows. She doesn’t look up from rubbing her hands together under the sink, soap bubbles shining iridescent in the lighting crawling out from the edges of the mirror. Azzi watches her. “No, I wasn’t bringing that up. I was actually just curious. ‘Cause, like, y’know…usually don’t really see you out, now you’re everywhere. And you’re always with her and Calliope ‘n stuff.”
Azzi relaxes a little at this. Paige isn’t actively picking a fight with her. She glances back towards her own reflection, scanning around her mouth to see if her lipgloss is too messy. “Yeah. Carol’s working with her and Emi Lile right now on some movie. I met Emi a little bit ago and Carol said she, like, asked to start inviting me places. So I guess ‘m in their group.” She says it around a slightly parted mouth.
They’re quiet for a few moments. The sink shuts off. She can see Paige reaching towards a small basket of napkins sitting on the counter, paper rustling between her large hands. “Emi isn’t the one you were making out with last week, right?” Azzi’s eyes shoot towards her face in the mirror. Paige is already there, irises shining blue through the glass, face flat in the reflection.
One of Azzi’s brows quirks up slightly. The threat of a small curve to her lips finds her cheeks. “No, that was Halle. She’s chill. I like her.” Paige’s expression doesn’t change. She just looks at her for a moment in the mirror, eyes like diamonds, face sculpted, and then turns to walk away. Azzi bites the inside of her cheek. She can’t help the soft scoff that slips from her, a dumbfounded smile playing at her lips. She moves to follow Paige. “Don’t look at me like that. I let you fuck me in your car literally right after.” The words are said low, their shoulders bumping.
Paige looks over at her. She looks a little unimpressed, eyes slightly narrowed, features still rough with a quiet irritation. “It’s not like that. Just…didn’t know you were into femmes, is all.” They near the door. Paige takes a slightly longer stride to step in front of Azzi, voice dropping a little as she speaks.
Azzi shrugs. Paige turns to open the door by leaning against it with her back. It’s here, facing each other, that Azzi really gets a good look at her face. Mascara licks up her lashes and there’s a gentle flush to her cheeks. Her lips look matte. Azzi feels so, so warm. “‘m not really. Just get bored sometimes.”
Paige’s face scrunches a little. It’s playful again, the hardness abandoned. She leans back a little to open the door. Azzi takes a little too big of a step. Their faces are close. Paige is half-smiling at her, the edges of it whisping into a smirk. “You bored now?” Azzi looks at her from under her lashes. Infuriatingly, she thinks Paige will forever be one of the prettiest people she’s ever met. She’s glowing as the door opens and they’re met by the rest of the club again.
Azzi frowns a little up at her. It’s teasing. She can feel how her eyes are still light, how her cheeks are still warm. “Depends. There aren’t any femmes around for me to make out with, so…” She trails off, sighing dramatically. The door shuts itself behind them. Azzi is just looking at Paige, at the way the light dances off of her skin and shoots itself deep into Azzi’s own belly.
Paige’s brows raise a little. Her stupidly charming little smirk is still curling the edges of her mouth and Azzi is finding it increasingly harder to not like it. “Well. I know this masc who might be interested.” She shrugs a little as she speaks.
Neither of them are really trying too hard to leave the little hallway the bathroom is tucked into. Azzi likes it. She feels sheltered and close to Paige. Liking that is not something she thought she’d ever feel again, but things change, and the threat of what will inevitably come after making out with Paige is starting to make her wet. She hums thoughtfully. “Do I know her?”
Paige’s eyes sparkle a little. “Yeah,” she says, voice a little hoarse. She takes a single step closer to Azzi. Azzi’s lips part of their own accord. Her skin feels flushed. She hopes the poor lighting smooths the blush into the sweet tan of her skin, because Paige is very clearly looking at her closely enough to notice if it doesn’t. “Her name’s Ashley.”
Azzi laughs a little, rolling her eyes. She takes a step back. Her stomach is still twisting over itself. “Oh, fuck you,” she says, and it comes out as almost a pur despite the way she’s laughing with it. Paige is just smiling at her. She looks gone. She moves to lessen the distance between them again, rendering Azzi’s earlier step useless. “Call an Uber,” she says.
The blonde girl starts reaching into her pocket the moment the words have lifted themselves from Azzi’s tongue. “‘s alright if we go to mine? Kitty’s at a sleepover.” The lack of an argument between them should probably be something that concerns Azzi, if she’s being honest with herself, but she’s too drunk to care about that right now. People hook up with their exes all the time. And Azzi’s allowed to no longer hate her with her entire chest. “I’ll call your Uber home,” she offers in wake of Azzi’s slow silence.
Azzi shakes her head a little as if to physically clear the thoughts from herself. Paige’s phone washes cold light up and it grips to the pale stretch of her throat and the underside of her chin. “No, it’s fine, I was just…thinking. But yeah. Let’s go to your’s.” She nods at Paige, who is still looking at her. Who doesn’t look away when she stops talking. If anything, Paige just gets a little closer, eyes squinting a little.
“You…hold on. You got somethin’.” One of her hands raises itself from her side. It wobbles a little with her inebriation. She steadies it against the cut of Azzi’s jaw, fingers against her skin. Azzi’s stomach flips a little. Paige’s brows furrow slightly. She thumbs at some of the skin around her mouth, touch gentle. Azzi thinks she feels warmer than she should. “Lipgloss,” Paige mumbles, still wiping a little.
Azzi really would like to leave now. She really would like the same fingers that are brushing her face to be in a very different place than they are, coaxing the knot that has already begun forming itself in her abdomen to release. “Let’s go to your place,” she repeats, voice slightly rasping. She’s looking at Paige the entire time she says it. She can’t look away. Paige nods obediently and turns back to her phone.
Azzi thinks she’s getting too excited about this entire situation. The club is crowded against them as they start trying to weave their way out of the hallway they had just been tucked into. She needs to get a grip. Obviously, the sex is really good, but she cannot be acting like this. She’s gone from hating her ex-wife to immediately giving in and going home with her in less than two weeks. Her skin prickles with warmth and sweat.
She receives a text from Caroline barely a minute after they’re buckled into the Uber.
carol: did u irish goodbye emi says u went to bathroo with her then disapeared
carol: why not say bye to mr 😕
az: sorry urgent had to leave quivk
az: going home wit hsomeone
carol: wtf who
carol: is it paige.
az: 😚🥰🥹😄
carol: qhen ur bsf blows u off ti hook up w her bum ass baby mama 😍😍
az: I AHTE IT WHEN UCALL HER THAT LMFAO
az: we were matried baby mama make it dound like i was hoeing aroind and kitty was an accident
carol: whem ur bsf blows u off to hook up w her bum ass baby mama qho served her divorce papers over a year ago and.cut all contact except for when she’s horny 😍😍
az: i miss supportive carol
az: turm her back on
carol: sordy she doesnt work when im drunk
carol: okay dont get pregnant i love u 🩷
az: shoot was planning on letting paige baby trap me tn ill make sure to make her pull oit 🩷 love u to 🩷
The Uber ride is short. The air between them is heated and Azzi can feel it, feel the way the silence and the darkness and the way their bare knees keep brushing is only heightening the feeling between them. Azzi can feel that she’s wet. Once again, the amount of excitement she feels about hooking up with Paige should probably worry her, but she doesn’t let it.
They’re kissing the moment the front door shuts. It’s through the dark and messy, so messy Azzi can feel their teeth brushing and can feel spit collecting and trying to spill out of the corner of her mouth. Paige’s hands grip where the back of her head meets the base of her neck. Azzi’s roam, groping her everywhere, trying to find a place to grab her where she’ll start to crumble under her touch. The foyer echoes the wet sounds of their kissing back to them.
She knows she’s found a spot Paige can’t ignore her touch at when Azzi’s hands reach under her shirt and squeeze her chest. She’s not wearing anything under her shirt, nipples slightly peaked into the centers of her palms. Azzi moans nearly as loud as Paige does at the touch, her sturdy spine bending like a green reed as she arches a little.
Their lips part. Through the dark, a single string of spit connects their lips, shining at Azzi as she hazily blinks and breathes deeply through her slick mouth. Her hands are still on Paige’s tits, the softness of them spilling against her fingers. Paige is panting in front of her. Her hands are firmly on the base of Azzi’s neck.
“Bedroom,” Paige rasps, eyes so deep through the darkness between them that the word immediately hits Azzi’s cunt. She holds her breath a little to fight down a strangled noise she doesn’t need Paige knowing she’s drawing from her. Paige’s hands slide down from her neck and follow the shape of her ribs instead of that of her shoulders, palms moving down the curve of her breasts and the give of her waist before dropping back to her own sides. Azzi’s eyes flutter at the touch.
Paige starts moving away, leaving her in the foyer for the split second she’s too far gone to process that she should probably follow. And it’s only during this split second that she realizes she’s never been inside of Paige’s house before. Something within her, oddly enough, crumples a little at this realization. She looks at Paige’s back, at the way her hair moves with her shirt over the gentle roll of her shoulder blades, and then down at her feet. Something in her stomach rolls like a wave. The alcohol fuels it, makes it splash against her insides and burn.
And then it’s gone. Paige stops and turns around, eyes cutting through the darkness to find her. She raises her brows a little in silence. Azzi immediately steps to start following her, the unfamiliarity of the house fuzzing the edges of her vision. Paige turns around again and continues taking large strides towards a staircase sitting in front of them. It’s sleek and wooden and the handrail is smooth under Azzi’s grip as she stumbles a little up it.
The second floor opens up into a wide landing with doors and open entryways lining its sides. They’re all gray in the darkness, all unanimated and unfamiliar. Azzi operates a moment delayed from Paige because she has no idea how to get around the house. The idea of where Paige lives being so alien she doesn’t even know where her bedroom is would torment the Azzi that was dating and married to Paige. Azzi right now really would just like to get to the bedroom so they can touch each other.
Paige leads her to a door that is shut. Her hands are sure as she twists the knob and opens it to reveal a large bedroom, sheer curtains drawn over every vast window, moonlight stumbling around against the furniture pushed to fill the space. Azzi steps in after her. She can see over Paige’s shoulder that there’s a plush bed sitting up against the wall they’re facing, dark pillows and soft comforter a slight mess.
Paige steps behind her and gently closes the door. She walks forward again, Azzi following after her. The bed is seemingly her target. Azzi trails behind her. When Paige gets to the bed, she turns around again, big hands reaching out to cup the back of Azzi’s head again. She’s swallowed back into another heated kiss. Her lips feel fuzzy. Their tongues slide.
She can feel Paige’s hands starting to roam along her body, palms and fingers restless against her skin. They move against her clothes and start pushing at them, tugging on hems, teasingly moving to take them off without actually doing anything to follow through with it. Azzi gasps into her mouth when her hands slip under the wiring of her bra to cusp her tits. She doesn’t even squeeze. Her touch is feather light, teasing, driving Azzi insane.
She’s so wet. She can feel it. She parts her lips wide until Paige can’t kiss her anymore. Paige just starts mouthing at the corner of her mouth, tongue wet and heavy on her skin. “Please,” Azzi says. It’s ragged. It rips itself free from her throat. She knows she really must be gone, because there is no world in which she should be begging for anything from her ex.
Azzi can feel Paige’s lips curve softly into a smile. She really would like to hate the feeling of her mouth in that shape, but then she squeezes her hands a little where they are and she gasps again, eyelids fluttering. Her hands surge up Paige’s back and fist in her hair. “Please what?” Her voice is low and skitters across her skin. Azzi just moans a little. Her eyes shut tightly. There’s a knot forming in her abdomen. Paige tuts quietly against her. “Use your words, princess.”
And then she moves so both of Azzi’s nipples are pinched between a thumb and a forefinger and squeezes. Hard. Azzi releases a slightly broken sound, knees going a little weak at the bite of pain that burrows itself into both of her breasts. She sways forward a little, grip on Paige’s hair tightening. “Fuck you,” she breathes, and Paige just exhales against her face. She licks the corner of Azzi’s bottom lip. Wetness floods her heat. “Want you inside.” The words are spilling out of her mouth before she can think to stop them.
Paige goes quiet for a moment against her as if she’s musing. Azzi knows she’s not. Her hands start gently kneading Azzi’s chest, touch still rough but less biting than what it had just been. Azzi’s eyes are lidded with pleasure. Her mouth won’t close. The sound of their slightly ragged breathing fills the room. “You want the strap?” The question is mumbled close to her mouth.
Azzi exhales through her mouth. She can feel her breath ghost along Paige’s skin. The heat of it is unmistakable, dragging along her jaw. Paige sways a little into her. “You still have it?” She turns her head a little as she says it to face Paige a little better. Her brows don’t furrow, face too lax with the promise of pleasure, but real confusion pools a little in her gut.
Paige is quiet for a second again. “Maybe,” she eventually breathes, the word so close to being almost bashful that Azzi doesn’t know what to do for a moment. Paige kept their strap-on. They’ve been divorced for a year now and she still kept their strap-on. Azzi makes a low, involuntary noise even she doesn’t even really know the meaning of. Paige exhales a little against her at it. “You want the strap?” She repeats.
Azzi’s mouth parts. “Yeah,” she nearly whispers, voice hoarse. Paige hums close to her skin. Azzi thinks she can feel her eyes threatening to roll back. Her body is on fire. Want itches along her skin like a tangible thing, lighting her up where it can. “Oh my God,” she mumbles. It’s for no reason other than to say something, anything, to stop herself from just moaning at the thought of Paige fucking her.
One of Paige’s hands moves away from her chest from under her shirt, slipping up to her neck. She isn’t choking her. It’s just a warm presence, rough palm pressing a little against her throat, thumb and forefinger resting where her jaw meets her neck. “Imma get the strap, and you’re gonna be good f’ me and take all your clothes off and wait on the bed. Okay?“ Azzi is buzzing with desire. She just nods once, and then Paige is pulling away from her, Azzi’s nipples hard into the padding of her bra and her breath heavy in her chest.
Paige leaves and walks to another corner of the room. Azzi pulls her top off over her head and reaches her hands around herself to pick at her bra. She feels fuzzy all over, body tingling. Her bra comes unclasped and she drops it unceremoniously on the ground. Her little skirt and thong are all that are left on her. She fumbles a little with the zipper and button of her skirt but is eventually able to shimmy it off of herself.
It’s as she’s straightening up from dropping her skirt to the floor that she feels it: a large, very familiar hand reaching out and grabbing her ass. One of her fingers reaches underneath the swell of it to rub lightly just behind Azzi’s entrance. The feeling takes her by surprise, the promise of something so good and so close. She makes an involuntary noise and leans forward a little, catching herself on the bed with her hands.
The slight bend at the waist allows Paige a little more access and she uses this to her advantage. She sticks her hand all the way between Azzi’s legs and lightly scratches her fingernail just over Azzi’s hole through the fabric of her thong. She knows it’s wet. Azzi makes another choked noise. Her eyes are fluttering. She hears the way Paige’s breath picks up a little.
“Take it off,” Paige mumbles, fingers still scratching a little against her thong. Azzi straightens up again. Her legs already feel weak. She hooks her thumbs under the fabric and pushes it away from herself. She can feel that it’s soaked, her want tangible. She doesn’t care to be embarrassed. She just immediately steps forward to start crawling onto the bed, comforter light under her joints.
Paige follows her up. She can sense it in the soft crinkle of the sheets, the dip of the mattress, the way her warmth stays close to her without Azzi even needing to touch her like the heat radiation of a sunburn. She likes it. She can feel the way her own chest is rising and falling quickly with anticipation. She lands somewhere in the middle of the bed and turns around to look back at Paige. She’s being wrapped into another kiss before she can even make out the other woman through the dark.
It’s heated and messy and immediately tightens Azzi’s core again. She’s falling back farther into the mattress, Paige coming down with her, lips and tongues sliding. Hair is in her face and she can’t focus for long enough to tell if it’s hers or Paige’s. She doesn’t care. Pleasure is sparking everywhere along her, gripping her body like it controls it, and she only wants more.
Paige starts pulling at her waist to flip their position, to get Azzi on top of Paige. She accepts this easily. Her legs tangle a little with Paige’s as she moves them until Paige is on her back and Azzi is straddling her, wet pussy finding Paige’s lower abs. She moans at the contact and grinds down a little along the muscle there. Paige groans. Azzi thinks she can feel her eyes roll back a little at the way the friction blesses her entire body.
Their lips part. It’s Paige to initiate the disconnect. Azzi grinds down on her again, another moan falling out of her mouth. She can feel Paige reach down and grab the strap, tapping it lightly against one of Azzi’s legs. “Ride it,” she rasps, and then Azzi feels her move it from just her leg to between them, the tip of it lightly pushing through her folds.
Her head drops against Paige’s shoulder. Her clit feels swollen, the promise of more pleasure so teasing, her hole dripping. Paige rubs the rubber against her clit and then pulls it back down until it’s near her entrance again. Azzi’s skin is on fire. “Put it in,” she begs, voice nearly broken along Paige’s skin. She moves her hands along the mattress to get ready to push herself up as she says it.
The tip of the dildo presses into her slit. Azzi moans immediately at the feeling of it. She clenches a little around barely anything. Paige groans quietly. Azzi starts to push herself up with her hands, angling her body so she’s allowing the strap-on to press farther into her. She’s slow, but her precum is slicking it quickly and letting it slip within her easily. Paige continues groaning softly as Azzi takes it.
Azzi really does not care anymore about why Paige had kept their strap. She’s more so occupied with why it was anywhere other than inside of her, why she had let herself go so long without feeling the stretch of the rubber. Paige moves the hand that had been steadying it away when it’s fully in her and moves it to settle against her hip, thumbing circles into the skin there. Azzi’s eyelids are fluttering. She moves her hands to settle on either side of Paige’s ribs, legs straddling her hips, and then starts moving.
She lifts herself up and then lowers herself down. The slide of the rubber within her gives her the friction and the fullness she’s been so desperately wanting. She moans, head dropping, curls falling in front of her face. “Fuck, Azzi,” Paige breathes, voice tight in her throat. Azzi lifts and then lowers again. Her pace is slow, walls still tight around the dildo. Every breath in is shaky and every breath out is a soft moan.
Azzi starts to speed up a little. She can feel her slick coating the strap-on, rubber sliding easily in and out of her. She keeps her hands against Paige’s body to steady herself. Where they are, she can feel the rapid expansion and contraction of her ribcage, the way Paige’s breath is quick at the sight of Azzi riding her. Azzi’s breathing isn’t any more even.
The mattress is soft on her knees. When she feels balanced enough, she lifts herself up off of her hands, using only her legs to bounce herself up and down. The slightly chilly air wraps itself around her. The heat of her want and the alcohol blooms along her skin, flushing her but leaving her nipples hard. The muscle lining her thighs tenses and relaxes as she rides Paige.
“Fuck,” Paige breathes. Her hands come out to fully grab Azzi’s hips, following the movements of her body. They’re warm where they spread over her skin. Azzi throws her head back, hair tipping down her spine, mouth parted. The feeling is addictive. The coil in her gut continues to tighten. “I can feel how tight you are. Holy shit.”
Azzi moans a little at this. She continues fucking herself down on the dildo, insides welcoming the presence. She feels Paige reach up from her hips to her tits. Her hands grope her. The hardness of her nipples presses into the warm stretch of her palms. More sounds of pleasure escape her as she feels Paige’s fingers dig a little into the soft, fatty tissue.
She reaches her own hands up. Grabs around Paige’s wrists, presses her hands farther against her breasts. The movement of them bouncing as she rides the dildo softens a little with the anchor of Paige’s hands against her. “Oh, shit,” Paige mumbles. Her voice makes Azzi moan softly. She can feel her continuing to squeeze at her. She feels herself get only wetter on the dildo.
Her body is buzzing with the contractions of her abs and legs as she works herself farther and farther, pleasure making her stupid. Her nails claw a little at the skin of Paige’s wrists. The girl doesn’t seem to mind, only groaning a little in time with Azzi’s up and down motions as she fucks herself against Paige. The slightly calloused skin of her palms rub a little against her nipples. Something almost like pure ecstacy starts trickling down her spine, making her arch a little.
Paige’s hips jolt a little. She fucks up into Azzi, meeting her thrust, and the strap-on buries itself so far into her that Azzi can’t prevent the low moan that tears itself out of her. “Yes,” she breathes, though it’s nearly a whine. Paige groans. Azzi looks down again at her from where her head had just been tilted up, meeting her eye through the darkness. She already looks fucked out, skin flushed, chest bare and soft in the moonlight. Her nipples are rose buds that bloom quietly against the pale stretch of her skin.
She’s beautiful, mouth parted, lips still bitten and wet from their kissing. She bucks her hips up again to match her. It reaches farther into her again, finding a sweet spot, Azzi’s face slack with pleasure. “Yeah, don’t- don’t stop doing that, oh my God, yes, yes,” she babbles, still gripping Paige’s hands to her chest as she speaks.
Paige’s eyes are lidded. Azzi continues to grind down on the dildo. She wishes she could feel the way she knows it’s grinding down against Paige’s own clit, the way it’s working Azzi so close to the edge but is only teasing Paige enough to keep her somewhat satisfied. “Feels so good,” she rasps. Azzi moans a little in response. She knows she won’t last much longer.
They continue meeting each other in their thrusts, the wet sound of their sex filling the room. Azzi’s abdomen curls farther and farther in on itself until she knows it’s about to release. “‘m cumming, fuck,” she gasps in warning. Paige only groans in response. Her hands grab at her breasts again with renewed fervor. The feeling of her tits squeezed in her large hands is what pushes Azzi over.
She can feel her cum leaking out of her and dribbling down the strap through the darkness as she orgasms, body nearly spasming. Her head throws back again and her back arches. A long moan falls out of her mouth, nearly a cry out. Her legs burn. Her walls won’t stop tightening around the rubber Paige keeps trying to fuck up into her. Her movements slow until she’s not moving anymore.
After a few moments of just sitting there on Paige’s dick, Azzi slowly lowers her head. Her body is light and warm with pleasure. She’s sleepy. She wants to get Paige off so she can get in her Uber and go to sleep. Their breathing is heavy into the dark space between them as she leans forward to plant her hands on the mattress. She starts lifting herself off of the strap.
Paige’s hands move away from her tits. They find her hips and nearly seize her there, fingers digging into the flesh, grip firm on her body. She’s not letting her get off of the dildo. “‘m not done with you,” Paige says, voice low and dark. Azzi just makes a strangled noise. It’s a melody of both pleasure and pain, the warmth of her orgasm and the bite of overstimulation that presses itself into her core when Paige forces her back all the way down on the dildo.
She starts shifting under Azzi. Pushing Azzi towards the bed, trying to get herself up. The strap-on attached to her moves inside of Azzi’s walls. She can do nothing to fight it. She just gives in, letting Paige flip them, insides starting to feel almost sore. Soft noises slip from her lips and curl low in her belly.
Azzi settles on her back with her legs up. Her face is screwed up a little with anticipation and with the slight ache of overstimulation. Paige is on her knees between her legs, hair hanging down. “I can’t do more,” Azzi breathes. Paige’s hands wrap around her ankles, pulling her legs up in front of her face. Her knees press lightly on her chest. She can feel the way her slit is now shining between her thighs, puffy and wet and shuddering as Paige lowers herself all the way into her again. “Oh my God,” she gasps.
Her legs are already shaking. She thinks Paige can feel the shudder of the limbs from where she holds them because her grip tightens slightly, hands warm on her skin. Azzi fists at the sheets at the feeling of Paige starting to fuck into her again. “Take that dick. Be good.” Her voice is gruff.
Paige’s pace starts up quickly. It’s punishing and reaches deep inside of her to find the softness of her g-spot every time. Her back tries to arch up and she just presses her ribcage up into her own thighs, head tipping back on the pillow. “Oh my God. I can’t, oh my God, I can’t, I can’t,” she moans. Pleasure starts to whisp itself through her again. Her grip on the sheets tightens.
The rubber is nearly squelching as it pounds in and out of her, covered in her slick. Paige is panting above her. Azzi’s face screws up. The pain of overstimulation is still latching into her, but the heat of bliss is starting to lap over it and make her forget it like salve against a burn. “Yes, you can. You can take it, c’mon, Az, fuckin’ take it,” Paige breathes.
“Fuck, holy shit, oh my God, Paige,” Azzi moans. She’s squirming without even thinking, the darkness of the night spilling into Paige’s bedroom and covering her, body acting of its own accord. The sound of skin against skin and rubber against wetness and achingly quick breathing fills the room. A familiar coil starts to form itself low in Azzi’s belly. “Paige, Paige,” she pants, because she doesn’t have anything else to say.
Paige hums where she is above her. It’s low and gravelly in the back of her throat. “You like it,” she murmurs, and Azzi wants to hate that she’s right, but she can’t when she’s inside of her like this. Azzi’s legs start to shake harder where they are in front of her face. She can feel herself leaking, wetness dripping from her and spilling across her skin. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” Paige breathes.
It’s overstimulating. It’s painful. It’s good. It’s so good, hot pleasure drawing a flush along all of Azzi’s skin, body writhing and shuddering as Paige fucks into her. “I can’t,” she nearly whispers, voice hoarse. Paige doesn’t stop. She just matches every moan that breathes itself from her lips, actions just as desperate as Azzi’s. “Harder,” she breathes.
Paige groans a little. “See, you like it. You want my fuckin’ dick, princess, oh my God,” she says, voice tight, gripping Azzi’s ankles harder. Azzi just moans in response, hips trying to rut farther into Paige and not being very successful because of the position she’s being held in. Her mouth won’t shut. She’s just panting and making noises and going completely blank as Paige fucks her.
Her core is burning. Release is soon and she can feel it in the way her entire body feels like it’s buzzing. She moves to grip the sheets in a different spot and nearly pulls at them with how hard she’s squeezing them in her grip. “I’m gonna- holy shit, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum,” she chokes out, eyes fluttering. Paige just moans a little back. Her thrusting turns more desperate, both of them chasing a high.
Azzi’s the first to find it. She cums with a sound that sounds like a sob, something white-hot and wet spilling from the deepest depths of her body against Paige. She pulls at the sheets and can feel enough give on them to know that she’s untucked them from around the mattress. She doesn’t care. Her body shakes like nothing she’s ever felt as her orgasm washes over her like the pound of burning rain on her skin.
Paige keeps fucking her. She’s making little noises, body leaning farther into Azzi. “‘m so close, Azzi, ‘m so close,” she says. It sounds almost like a whine. Azzi mewls back. Her body won’t stop writhing underneath Paige. “Let me do this,” she pleads. Azzi keeps squirming as she’s carried through her high. Her body feels like it’s been lit on fire.
She can only take a few more moments of Paige trying to work herself to her own orgasm before the strap pounding in and out of her hurts more than anything. It’s a sharper sting than the one before, an overstimulation she really can’t take. A high-pitched whine falls out of her mouth as she squirms more against her, pushing at her. “Stop, stop, stop, serious, no more,” she begs, legs shuddering as she tries to shove at Paige.
Paige, thankfully, immediately pulls out of her when she says this. The sudden loss leaves Azzi to gasp a little and clench around nothing. Her body aches a little. Paige lets go of her legs and Azzi folds them so her feet are on the mattress, chest rising and falling quickly. She can feel her slick smeared along the inside of her thighs. She’s too busy watching Paige over her knees to care.
The blonde is fumbling with the clips of the strap-on with one hand and desperately trying to touch herself through her boxers with the other. Azzi can see, even in the dark lighting, that her face is deeply flushed and her mouth is parted. Azzi is outstretching her hands before she even knows what she’s doing. “C’mere,” she breathes, stretching out her legs until Paige is straddling her calves without touching her. She looks up at her with large eyes and a fucked-out expression. “Cum on my fingers, baby,” she says.
The strap falls off of Paige’s body. She’s immediately lowering herself onto all fours and crawling farther up Azzi’s body. Azzi, eyes still lidded, body still shuddering a little with her own release, reaches prying fingers down to her waist and slips her hand under the band of her boxers immediately. “Oh my God,” Paige moans before Azzi even touches her. Azzi shoves her hand farther down until her fingers find the wetness of her folds, the way her boxers are soaked, the way her clit is so swollen against her. Paige’s arms shudder where they bracket her. “Oh my God, Azzi.”
Azzi usually likes to tease, but she knows Paige is on edge and wants release quickly, so she just brushes over her clit once and then plunges two fingers into her cunt. Paige moans close to her ear. It’s breathy and tight and Azzi clenches a little, shaking again with the lingering feeling of her own orgasm. “Felt so good in me. You like my fingers in you?” Her voice rasps out of her. Paige’s head drops, the tip of her nose brushing against Azzi’s shoulder.
“Yes, yes, oh my God,” she moans. Azzi can feel her clenching a little around her fingers. The wet sound of sex continues to fill the room. Azzi feels fuzzy all over. Paige grinds her hips down a little into her hand. It’s covered everywhere in Paige’s precum from where it leaks from her pussy and wets the boxers Azzi’s hand is shoved into. “‘m gonna cum,” she mumbles.
Azzi hums a little. She starts curling her fingers as she pumps them into her and relishes in the way it turns Paige’s moans slightly higher pitched, body desperate as Azzi fingers her. “Let go,” she says softly, and then Paige is cumming with her fingers inside of her, shaking and moaning and clenching. Azzi feels her slick spill into her hand and continues to let her ride out her orgasm with a pace that starts to slow but still works her.
Distantly, as Paige arches through the high of her own orgasm and Azzi feels herself more or less come down from her own, she feels that Paige’s bedsheets are absolutely soaked against her skin where she had just gotten fucked into a second orgasm. She’s sure her cum is probably against Paige’s own boxers, too, and stickying their skin. Paige shudders a little and pushes at Azzi’s arm. Azzi withdraws it from her boxers. It’s wet.
Paige collapses. She’s on top of Azzi, whose eyes are fluttering and pulse is still racing. Paige pants against her skin. They’re both wet and warm and Azzi is so relaxed with the lingering feeling of her releases that she forgets to care that it’s her ex-wife who is currently pressed against her, skin to skin, face against her shoulder. She just lays there. Tilts her head to the side a little until she feels Paige’s forehead against her jaw, the skin there a little sweaty.
They lay there like that for a little while. They say nothing. And then Paige is pushing herself up, breathing still barely not even, body warm when it peels away from Azzi’s. “Imma get a rag,” she says quietly. Azzi just hums softly in response, unmoving where she lays on Paige’s bed. The older girl starts crawling off of her and towards the edge of the bed. The shape of her is blurry in the dark. “Shit, princess, you got…everywhere.”
Azzi flushes a little. She shuts her eyes, suddenly aware again of the wetness soaking the skin around her pussy and the bedsheets under her pelvis. “Sorry,” she mumbles. She thinks she hears Paige exhale a soft almost laugh in response. The mattress dips as she slides off of it.
“No, you’re fine. I’ll be back.” And then she’s gone, Azzi left only with the feel of her own body after their sex and the sound of Paige’s padding footsteps as she walks away. Azzi stares up at the ceiling. She can’t really make out anything up there other than a chandelier and she traces the glass of it with her pupils. The shapes of the glass shine white with what little moonlight can force its way into Paige’s room.
She doesn’t know what she’s doing. This arrangement has to be one of the stupidest Azzi has ever let herself walk into, because she’s very quickly allowing herself to not absolutely despise Paige and she knows that this will change everything. But it’s good sex. She blinks up at the chandelier above her, one she has never seen in her life because she has never been in Paige’s house until this moment. How bad could things really get?
Synopsis:At Hopkins High School, Azzi Fudd has always known one rule, her brother Jose’s best friend Paige Bueckers is off limits, no matter how impossible it is to stop noticing her. But after one quiet night at an end of year party changes everything, Azzi finds herself three days later trapped in a car between Paige and Jose travelling to their cabin for 3 weeks, trying to hide a secret that already feels too big to keep.
warnings: underage drinking
Soccer Azzi x Basketball Paige
wc: 9.3k
A/N: sorry it took so long to get chapter 2 out, but I hope y'all enjoy it, if there is anything you would like to see in future chapters lmk!
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The lake house changed everything the moment they started spending time outside of its walls, because inside it was familiar and controlled and safe in a way that made it easy to forget what was waiting just beyond it, but outside down by the water where everything opened up into sun and silence and reflections that didn’t feel real it became impossible for Paige and Azzi to ignore each other in the same way they had been pretending to for days.
It started the next morning.
Paige and Jose had gotten down to the lake first, already arguing about something completely pointless like who could make it up the dock faster or who would fall in first, the kind of argument that meant nothing but somehow turned competitive anyway, while Azzi slept in longer than she meant to and only came down later, stepping out onto the wooden boards in a lilac bikini with her hair still tied up in a messy bun that had clearly been thrown together without much thought.
The shift happened instantly as soon as Paige saw Azzi.
Paige stopped talking mid sentence, not even slowly or subtly, just completely freezing like someone had pressed pause on her thoughts, her voice disappearing halfway through a word as her eyes locked on Azzi in a way that made it feel like everything else around them had been turned down without warning.
Azzi felt it immediately, that weight of being seen so directly it almost knocked her off balance for a second, especially because she had spent the entire morning trying not to think about Paige at all, and suddenly she was the only thing she could feel.
Then she looked back.
Which made it worse.
Paige wasn’t subtle about it either, not even slightly, because her gaze followed Azzi all the way down the dock like she had no intention of pretending otherwise, and when she finally forced herself to look away it was only to laugh at something Jose said that neither of them were actually listening to, just to give herself something to do with her face.
Azzi caught her staring again five minutes later.
Then again after that.
It became a pattern.
A quiet one.
A dangerous one.
And Azzi decided somewhere between sitting on the edge of the dock and feeling the sun on her shoulders while Paige took her shirt off because it was too hot to keep it on, leaving her in just a sports bra while Jose kept talking like nothing in the world had changed, that she was going to make Paige crack first, because that felt easier than admitting anything else.
That became the plan.
The problem was Paige noticed.
Paige always noticed.
And instead of pulling away or acting distant or making it less obvious, she leaned into it in a way that was almost worse, not in anything Jose would ever question, but in the smallest, quietest moments that no one else seemed to catch.
When she walked past Azzi in the kitchen and let her hand rest just a second too long on her hip as she passed, like she was just steadying herself but doing it in the worst possible place.
When she reached for a drink at dinner and her fingers brushed Azzi’s wrist in a way that could have been accidental if it hadn’t happened so deliberately slow.
When she sat down at the table and chose the seat right next to her without hesitation, letting her bare thigh press lightly against Azzi’s under the excuse that there wasn’t enough space, even though there absolutely was.
Azzi stopped pretending it didn’t affect her after the third time, because by then it wasn’t something she could ignore without actively trying, and trying meant thinking about it more.
Paige just smiled every time she noticed.
Like she knew exactly what she was doing.
Like she wanted her to notice.
And Jose, somehow, remained completely oblivious through all of it, talking over them, laughing at his own stories, and filling the space with noise that neither of them could fully hide behind no matter how hard they tried.
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By the second day, the tension had shifted from something quiet and unspoken into something heavier, sharper, almost impossible to ignore, like it had slowly filled every corner of the cabin until there was no space left where it didn’t exist.
It showed up again at dinner without warning.
They were all outside on the deck, the lake stretched out behind them in deep shades of blue and black, the surface catching just enough moonlight to shimmer every so often, while plates of food sat scattered across the table and the conversation drifted lazily between everyone in that familiar summer way where no one was really paying full attention to anything.
Jose was mid story, talking with his hands like always, going on about something from childhood that nobody was really following but everyone was humoring anyway, his voice blending into the background noise of crickets and water against the dock.
Azzi was trying very hard not to look at Paige.
Paige was already looking at her.
It had become that kind of pattern now, the kind neither of them acknowledged but both of them fully participated in, like an unspoken agreement that neither of them knew how to break.
“Azzi, you’re not even listening,” Jose said suddenly, pointing his fork at her.
“I am listening,” Azzi replied too quickly.
“No you’re not,” Paige added calmly without even looking at Jose.
Azzi shot her a look immediately.
Paige just smiled like she hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Traitor,” Azzi muttered under her breath.
“I heard that,” Paige said lightly.
“Good,” Azzi whispered back, trying not to smile.
That was when it happened.
Under the table, completely hidden from everyone else, Paige slid her hand onto Azzi’s thigh like it was the most natural thing in the world, like it had always been there and no one had just decided to put it there in that exact moment.
Casual.
Confident.
Way too familiar.
Azzi froze instantly.
Every part of her body tensed at once, her breath catching slightly as her eyes snapped toward Paige in immediate warning, silently asking what she thought she was doing while also very much aware of what she was doing.
Paige didn’t react.
Didn’t pull away.
Didn’t pretend it was an accident.
Instead she just kept talking like nothing had changed, her fingers slowly shifting higher in a way that made Azzi’s stomach drop, her voice lowering just slightly as she leaned in like she was about to say something meant only for her.
“You’re really bad at pretending,” Paige murmured softly.
It hit the floor under the table with a loud clatter that broke through everything instantly.
“Shit,” he muttered, bending down to grab it without thinking.
And in that exact second, Paige pulled her hand away so quickly it was like it had never been there at all, sitting back in her chair with a perfectly innocent expression that could have fooled anyone who wasn’t Azzi.
When Jose sat back up, everything looked completely normal again.
Conversation resumed.
Plates moved.
Someone laughed at something he said.
Nothing had changed.
Except Azzi’s pulse, which was still racing like it had something to prove.
Paige didn’t look at her for the rest of dinner.
Which somehow made it worse than if she had.
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On the third day, Azzi woke up to warmth.
Not the kind that came from sunlight through the window or a blanket pulled too high during the night, but the steady, comfortable kind that made it difficult to remember why she would ever want to get out of bed in the first place, leaving her drifting in that space between asleep and awake where nothing quite felt real yet.
For a few seconds she didn't understand where she was.
The room was quiet.
The cabin was still.
Somewhere outside, she could hear birds beginning to wake up and the faint sound of water moving against the shore, but everything around her felt distant compared to the simple fact that she was comfortable.
Then she opened her eyes.
And immediately realized why.
She was lying against Paige.
Not just close to her.
Not accidentally sharing the same side of the bed.
Actually lying on her chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Azzi froze so fast it was almost impressive.
Every muscle in her body locked up at once as her brain finally caught up to what was happening, and before she could think through a single rational response she was already pushing herself upright, moving so quickly she nearly lost her balance and fell right off the edge of the mattress.
"Sorry," she whispered immediately, her voice barely above a breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
Beside her, Paige stirred slowly, blinking awake as morning light filtered through the window behind her, and for a moment she just looked at Azzi without saying anything, her expression soft with sleep and completely free of the teasing grin she usually wore whenever Azzi got flustered.
"Hey," Paige said quietly.
Azzi looked anywhere except directly at her.
The floor.
The dresser.
The window.
Literally anything.
"I didn't mean to do that."
Paige sat up slightly, rubbing a hand across her face as she woke up fully.
"It's fine."
"No, it's not."
"It really is."
Azzi finally glanced over.
Paige looked genuinely confused by how embarrassed she was.
"You act like you committed a crime."
"I practically tackled you in my sleep."
"You were asleep."
"Still."
Paige laughed softly.
"Good morning to you too."
The sound of it only made Azzi's face feel warmer.
Silence settled between them for a moment, not uncomfortable exactly, but the kind that felt bigger than it should have because neither of them seemed entirely sure what to do with it.
Eventually Azzi stood up, moving toward her bag and grabbing clothes for the day with a speed that suggested she needed something to focus on immediately before she completely lost the ability to function.
"I'm getting ready."
Paige smiled.
"I gathered that."
Azzi rolled her eyes without turning around.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Whatever you're doing."
"I'm literally sitting here."
That earned the smallest laugh from Azzi, which only seemed to make Paige's smile grow.
A few minutes later, Azzi escaped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a second longer than necessary while she tried to collect herself.
What she didn't see was Paige watching her leave, she didn't see the way Paige's expression softened once the door closed, or the small smile she couldn't quite hide afterward, or the way she eventually leaned back against her pillow and stared up at the ceiling, completely awake now and thinking far too hard about something that should have been simple.
Because the truth was, Paige had been awake long before Azzi.
She'd opened her eyes nearly an hour earlier when the cabin was still quiet and everyone else was asleep, only to discover Azzi curled up against her side sometime during the night without either of them realizing it. And for the first few seconds, she'd been too surprised to move.
After that, she simply hadn't wanted to.
There had been something peaceful about the moment, something so easy and natural that it didn't feel like one of the complicated situations they'd been trying to navigate ever since arriving at the lake house. It had just felt... nice.
So Paige had stayed exactly where she was.
Listening to the quiet sounds of the cabin.
Watching the morning light slowly fill the room.
Trying not to smile and failing completely.
Eventually she glanced down at Azzi again, taking in the way she was still completely asleep, her breathing slow and steady, clearly unaware that she'd spent the night drifting closer until she'd ended up curled against Paige's chest. The sight made something in Paige's chest ache in the best and worst way at the same time. Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned down slightly and pressed a soft kiss against the top of Azzi's head, lingering for only a second before settling back against the pillow.
Azzi shifted slightly at the contact but didn't wake.
A sleepy sound escaped her before she settled right back against Paige.
That nearly made Paige laugh.
Instead she just shook her head fondly.
"You're impossible," she murmured softly, knowing Azzi wouldn't hear a word of it.
For a moment she simply looked down at her again before letting her eyes drift toward the ceiling.
"Soon," she whispered quietly into the stillness of the room, the word barely existing in the air at all.
Then she stayed exactly where she was and let Azzi keep sleeping.
And when Azzi finally woke up nearly an hour later in a complete panic, Paige had already spent sixty minutes trying not to smile about it.
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On the fourth day, everything shifted outward again.
For the first few days, most of the tension between Paige and Azzi had existed inside the cabin, hidden in shared glances across rooms, quiet conversations when nobody else was paying attention, and moments that seemed to linger just a little longer than they should have. By the fourth day, though, they finally had a reason to leave the lake house and step back into the real world, and for a few hours it almost felt like things had returned to normal.
Almost.
The trip into town had started simply enough.
Jose had announced over breakfast that they were completely out of everything required for a proper lake trip, which apparently included snacks, drinks, and an unreasonable amount of supplies for making s'mores.
"We literally made them two nights ago," Azzi pointed out.
"Exactly," Jose replied. "And now we're out."
"That's how food works."
"Thank you for that information."
Paige laughed into her drink.
Jose pointed at her immediately.
"See? Paige gets it."
"No," Paige said. "I'm laughing at you."
"Same thing."
By the time they piled into the car and headed into town, the mood was easy again. The windows were down, music played quietly through the speakers, and for the first time in days Azzi felt herself relaxing instead of constantly overthinking every interaction she had with Paige.
The town itself was small, the kind of place where everyone seemed to know everyone and summer tourists were easy to spot from a mile away. The grocery store sat near the center of town, surrounded by a few restaurants, a bait shop, and a handful of small businesses that looked exactly the same as they had every year.
An hour later they were leaving with far more groceries than any of them had intended to buy.
Jose was carrying two bags.
Paige had somehow ended up carrying four.
Azzi suspected that it had been intentional.
"Show off," she muttered.
Paige glanced over.
"You've called me that before."
"Because it keeps being true."
"I can't help being naturally gifted."
"At carrying groceries?"
"At everything."
Azzi rolled her eyes.
Paige looked entirely too pleased with herself.
Then a voice called out from across the parking lot.
"Jose!"
All three of them turned.
A guy about their age was jogging toward them with two other people trailing behind him, clearly someone Jose knew well because his face immediately lit up in recognition.
"Dude," Jose said. "What are you doing here?"
The conversation started instantly, the way conversations always did when friends ran into each other unexpectedly, full of interruptions and inside jokes and questions asked before previous questions had been answered.
Azzi only half listened.
Paige seemed to be doing the same.
Then the invitation came.
"There’s a party tonight at the lake house down the road," Jose's friend said, grinning. "Y'all should come."
Jose didn't even try to hide how interested he looked.
"A party?"
"Yeah. Starts around eight."
Jose looked immediately sold.
Of course he did.
Paige glanced toward Azzi.
Azzi glanced toward Paige.
The look lasted less than a second.
Long enough.
Neither of them said anything.
Neither of them needed to.
Then Jose shrugged.
"Yeah, why not?"
Paige nodded.
"I'm in."
Jose looked toward Azzi.
"What about you?"
For some reason, saying yes felt bigger than it should have. Maybe because she knew Paige would be there. Maybe because being around Paige had started feeling different lately no matter where they were. Maybe because she already had a feeling the night wouldn't be as simple as everyone else expected. Still, after only a brief hesitation, she nodded.
"Sure."
And just like that, it was decided.
The drive back to the lake house felt different somehow.
Not dramatically.
Not enough for anyone to comment on it.
Just enough for Azzi to notice herself thinking about the party more than she probably should have. Jose spent most of the drive talking about who might be there and whether any of the people from previous summers would show up.
Paige mostly listened.
Every now and then Azzi would catch her looking out the window, thoughtful and quiet in a way that made her wonder if she was thinking about the same things.
When they got back to the cabin and told their parents, the reaction was exactly what they expected.
A few questions.
A reminder to stay together.
Another reminder about curfew.
Several warnings that Jose dramatically claimed were unnecessary.
"They're absolutely necessary," his mom replied.
"We're adults."
"Then act like it."
Paige laughed.
Jose looked offended.
"Nobody appreciates me."
"Correct," Azzi said.
By the time evening arrived, the lake house had settled into that golden hour calm that always happened right before sunset, when the water reflected the sky and everything seemed quieter than it had all day.
Upstairs, people started getting ready.
Doors opened and closed.
Music drifted faintly through the hallway.
Voices carried from room to room.
The excitement of having somewhere to go slowly spread through the house.
And beneath all of it, something else lingered.
Something neither Paige nor Azzi had talked about.
Something that had been building for days through shared looks, interrupted moments, and conversations that never quite said everything they wanted to say.
It wasn't hidden anymore.
Not really.
It sat just below the surface now, close enough to feel even when neither of them acknowledged it. As the sky darkened outside and the lights around the lake began reflecting across the water, neither of them fully understood how much the night ahead was about to complicate things.
They only knew one thing for certain.
Whatever had started between them wasn't getting easier to ignore. And a crowded party was probably the last place either of them needed to be.
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The house was already loud before they even made it inside.
Music pulsed through the walls in heavy waves, the bass strong enough to make the wooden porch steps vibrate beneath their feet as people moved in and out through the front door in a constant stream, laughing loudly, calling to friends across the yard, carrying drinks, disappearing into the crowd and reappearing again minutes later like nobody planned on staying in one place for very long.
Cars lined both sides of the narrow road leading up to the lake house, squeezed together wherever people could find space, and colored lights hanging from the deck cast shifting shades of blue, red, and purple across the front yard, making everything feel slightly unreal against the darkness settling over the lake beyond the trees.
For a moment, Azzi stood beside Paige near the bottom of the porch steps and simply took it all in.
The air felt different here.
Not like the cabin.
Not like the quiet tension that had followed them around for the last four days.
This felt sharper.
Less controlled.
Like one small mistake could suddenly become a very big one.
Paige glanced toward her.
"You ready?"
Azzi let out a breath and looked toward the crowded house again.
"Not really."
That made Paige smile.
"Perfect."
"That's not reassuring."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
Despite herself, Azzi laughed.
The sound seemed to relax something in Paige's expression.
"Come on."
Then they walked inside together.
The noise immediately doubled.
People were everywhere.
The living room was packed shoulder to shoulder, conversations overlapping on top of the music while groups clustered around couches, kitchen counters, doorways, and every empty section of wall available, and it took Azzi a second to adjust to the sudden chaos after spending the last few days mostly surrounded by trees, water, and the familiar comfort of the lake house.
She became aware of people looking at them almost immediately.
Not in a strange way.
Just curious.
New faces.
Summer visitors.
People figuring out who belonged with who.
Azzi was wearing a fitted black top with light denim shorts, her curls still slightly damp from her shower and falling naturally around her shoulders, while Paige stood beside her in an oversized football tee and black jorts, looking completely relaxed despite the crowded room, her sleeves pushed up carelessly like she had thrown the outfit on without thinking even though somehow it worked perfectly.
For a second, Azzi caught a girl near the kitchen and glanced at Paige.
Then glance again.
She wasn't the only one.
Which annoyed Azzi far more than it should have.
Before she could examine that thought too closely, Jose suddenly straightened.
"Oh, there she is."
Azzi frowned.
"Who?"
Jose was already looking across the room.
"Oh, that's actually incredible timing."
"Jose."
"What?"
"Who is that?"
But he wasn't listening anymore.
His attention had already disappeared somewhere across the house.
Then he pointed.
"There."
Neither Paige nor Azzi could even identify who he was looking at before he started moving.
"Don't wait up."
Azzi stared.
"Seriously?"
Jose was already walking away.
"Love you guys."
"Jose."
"Have fun."
And then he vanished into the crowd without another word.
Paige watched him go.
The silence lasted about three seconds.
"Unbelievable."
Azzi sighed.
"He does this every single time."
Paige turned toward her.
"Every time?"
"Every party."
"Every single one?"
"Without fail."
Paige shook her head slowly.
"That's actually impressive."
"I know."
"I almost respect it."
"You shouldn't."
"I don't."
That earned another laugh from Azzi.
For a moment they stood there together watching the crowd swallow Jose completely.
Then someone called Paige's name from across the room. At nearly the same time, a girl Azzi vaguely recognized from previous summers waved her over from near the kitchen.
The moment stretched.
Not awkward.
Just uncertain.
Like both of them were aware that staying together would be noticeable, but walking away felt strangely disappointing. Paige shoved her hands into her pockets "I'll find you later."
The words were casual.
The look she gave her wasn't.
Azzi felt her stomach tighten slightly.
"Yeah."
Paige nodded once.
Then she started backing away through the crowd.
"Try not to get into trouble."
Azzi laughed.
"That's usually your job."
Paige's grin widened.
"Fair."
Then she disappeared into the house.
And for the first time all night, Azzi was on her own.
Which should have made things easier.
Instead, somehow, it only made her more aware of where Paige wasn't.
At some point, Azzi ended up on a couch near the back of the house without really remembering the steps that led her there, like the party had slowly rearranged itself around her until she simply existed in one corner of it.
There was a drink in her hand she hadn’t seen being poured, something sweet and strong that she only occasionally lifted to her lips out of habit more than interest, music thumping through the walls so loudly that conversations barely held together beyond fragments and laughter, and bodies constantly passing in front of her line of sight like the room couldn’t decide whether to stay still or keep moving.
The girl sitting beside her had introduced herself earlier, but Azzi had already lost the name somewhere between the second sentence and the third song, which wasn’t helped by how quickly she kept talking, filling every pause with stories that didn’t really need telling and leaning in a little too often like distance wasn’t something she understood.
“Seriously, I swear this place is always like this,” the girl said, laughing as she nudged Azzi lightly again like she’d been doing all night.
“Yeah,” Azzi replied absently, eyes drifting past her toward the rest of the room.
Paige, meanwhile, had ended up near the kitchen almost by accident, or at least that was how it felt at first, until a group of guys immediately recognized her and the space around her shifted in a way that made it clear she wasn’t just another person at the party.
It started casual enough.
A few nods.
A few “hey, you’re Paige right?” moments.
Then it turned into questions that came faster and closer together.
“So you’re really that number one recruit everyone’s talking about?” one of them asked, leaning against the counter like he was trying to sound casual but failing slightly.
Paige shrugged, one hand wrapped loosely around her drink. “Apparently.”
Another guy tilted his head. “What’s that even like?”
Paige let out a small breath through her nose. “A lot of pressure.”
“No like actually though,” someone else pushed, a little more curious now. “Does it feel weird knowing everyone’s watching you all the time?”
Paige paused for a second, eyes briefly flicking toward the floor before she answered. “You get used to it,” she said simply, like it was the kind of thing you either adapted to or didn’t survive.
They kept talking after that.
Basketball.
Expectations.
Rankings.
Offers.
Pressure dressed up as opportunity.
But Paige’s attention kept slipping in and out of the conversation in a way she couldn’t fully control.
Because across the room, through the shifting crowd and flashing lights and people she didn’t care about, she saw Azzi.
Sitting on the couch.
Too close to someone.
A girl she didn’t recognize.
Leaning in just a little too comfortably.
Something in Paige’s expression changed immediately.
Not obvious.
Not dramatic.
But sharp enough that the guy mid sentence actually paused. “Hey,” Paige said suddenly, cutting through the conversation without waiting for permission.
One of the guys frowned slightly. “Yeah?”
Paige didn’t look at him anymore.
Her eyes stayed fixed across the room. “Who’s the girl with Azzi?”
They all followed her gaze.
“Oh,” one of them said after a beat, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “That’s Valarie.”
“Who is she?” Paige asked.
“Lives around here,” another added, taking a sip of his drink. “Sophomore at Oak Tree Heights.”
One of them smirked slightly. “Wait is that Azzi with her?”
Paige didn’t respond to the tone.
Only the question.
“Yeah,” she said flatly.
Another guy leaned forward a little, grin widening. “No way she bagged Azzi.”
The shift was immediate.
Paige turned her head back so fast it almost cut the air “What did you just say?”
The guy blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
Paige’s voice stayed even, but there was nothing relaxed about it anymore. “What do you mean by that?”
A brief pause followed.
He shifted his weight. “I just mean… Valarie’s been kind of obsessed with her. Like all year. Everyone knows it around here. Since Azzi only comes here for the summer she probably doesn’t even realize.”
Paige didn’t answer.
Didn’t react.
Didn’t blink.
Because at that exact moment, across the room, Valarie’s hand moved onto Azzi’s thigh.
Not light.
Not hesitant.
Not even pretending to be accidental.
Azzi reacted instantly, grabbing her wrist and pulling it away with a clear firmness that made her entire posture shift backward, her shoulders tightening as she tried to create space that wasn’t being respected in the first place.
But Valarie leaned in again anyway.
Closer this time.
Too close.
And that was when Azzi’s eyes lifted across the room.
Straight into Paige’s.
It wasn’t a look that needed explaining.
It was instant.
A flicker of discomfort.
A quiet plea without words.
And something in Paige snapped into focus immediately.
“I’m gonna go check on her,” she said, already stepping away from the group. “She doesn’t look comfortable.”
The guys straightened slightly. “Yeah, go,” one of them said quickly. “For sure.”
“Good luck,” another added under his breath like he already knew how this was about to go.
Paige didn’t respond.
Didn’t slow down.
She was already moving through the crowd, eyes locked on one thing the entire way across the room.
The closer she got, the clearer it became.
Azzi wasn’t just uncomfortable, she was stuck in that polite kind of discomfort where she kept smiling out of habit even though her body was already leaning away, her shoulders tight and her attention clearly elsewhere, like she was trying to find an exit without making it obvious.
The girl next to her kept talking, leaning in again like space didn’t apply to her, fingers brushing Azzi’s arm mid sentence as if it was nothing, as if Azzi hadn’t already shifted away twice.
And then something changed.
Azzi saw her.
Across the room, through the moving crowd and flashing lights, her eyes locked onto Paige like everything else suddenly stopped mattering, and in the next second she was up.
She stood too fast for it to look casual, crossing the small space between them in quick steps before anyone could really track what she was doing, and grabbed Paige’s arm like it was the only solid thing in a room that suddenly felt too loud.
“Hey,” Azzi said quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Baby, I’ve been waiting for you.”
Paige froze for half a second.
Just one.
Then she understood.
Her expression softened immediately, like something in her switched gears without effort, and she nodded slightly as if she had been expecting this exact moment all night.
“Hey beautiful,” Paige said smoothly, slipping into it so naturally it almost felt rehearsed. “You okay?”
Azzi nodded a little too quickly, already blushing, fingers still lightly gripping Paige’s sleeve. “Yeah. I am now.”
Paige didn’t look away.
She stepped closer instead, slow and deliberate, letting her hand rest at Azzi’s waist in a way that wasn’t forceful at all but felt grounding in a way that made Azzi’s whole posture change, like her body had been waiting for it without realizing.
“I’m gonna kiss you,” Paige said quietly, only for her.
Azzi gave the smallest nod.
That was all.
Paige leaned in and kissed her.
Not rushed.
Not performative.
Just enough to shift everything in the room without trying to, like it didn’t need an audience to mean something. Her hand tightened slightly at Azzi’s waist as she pulled her closer, and Azzi’s hand came up instinctively to Paige’s chest, not pushing her away but holding on like it was the only stable thing in the middle of all the noise, her shoulders relaxing as she melted into it without thinking. When they finally separated, it didn’t feel like an ending.
Just a pause.
Their foreheads hovered close for a second longer than necessary, both of them breathing a little unevenly, both wearing that quiet almost smile that said too much without actually saying anything.
Then someone cleared their throat behind them.
“Excuse me,” Valarie said, sharper now. “Who are you?”
Paige turned slightly, but her arm stayed around Azzi’s waist like it was the most natural thing in the world, like she had no intention of letting go just because someone else was confused. Azzi leaned into her without thinking, still catching her breath, fingers lightly gripping the fabric of Paige’s shirt.
“Paige,” she said calmly. “Azzi’s girlfriend.”
The word landed differently in the space between them.
Valarie blinked, caught off guard. “Oh… I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
Azzi didn’t speak.
She didn’t need to.
Paige did, still steady, still calm. “We’ve been together for a while,” she said easily, like it had always been true and there was no reason to question it now. “We just keep things lowkey. Private, not secret.”
A beat passed.
The music kept going.
People kept laughing.
Nothing stopped.
Paige glanced at Azzi briefly before looking back at Valarie. “You know how it is,” she added. “Being two of the top recruits in basketball and soccer. Not a lot of privacy anymore.”
Valarie’s expression tightened slightly, like the explanation didn’t quite land the way she wanted it to. “Oh,” she said again, quieter. “Right.”
Paige gave a polite smile that didn’t invite more conversation.
“Anyway,” she said, tightening her hold at Azzi’s waist just slightly as she guided her backward through the crowd. “We’re gonna go.”
And she didn’t wait.
She turned them both away from the couch, moving through the crowd with Azzi still close to her side, cutting through noise and bodies and light until the room behind them started to fade into something less important.
For a few seconds, it felt like the world got quieter just because they were no longer in the center of it.
And behind them, the party kept going like nothing had changed at all.
But for the first time all night, Azzi wasn’t searching for Paige in the room.
Because Paige was already there.
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The night kept moving around them in waves of noise and light, and somehow Azzi and Paige moved with it like they were trying to stay visible just enough to avoid suspicion but close enough that neither of them ever really drifted apart, with Azzi introducing Paige to a few of her lake house friends as the evening blurred on while people kept asking her how soccer was going and turning just as quickly to Paige to ask about basketball like both of them had suddenly become the center of conversations they weren’t fully prepared for.
No one had seen Jose since the very start of the night, which everyone kept joking about but neither of them fully questioned out loud, and that absence somehow made everything feel slightly looser and slightly more dangerous at the same time, because without him around they didn’t have to constantly calculate distance but they still did it anyway out of habit.
By the time the noise started to feel like too much, Paige had already guided them away from the crowd without making it obvious, finding a quieter corner of the house where a couch sat half tucked away from the lights and speakers, just big enough for two people to sit without being swallowed by everyone else, and they both ended up there almost naturally with their legs touching and shoulders close as Azzi finally let herself lean in, resting her head against Paige like it was the only quiet thing left in the entire house.
For a while neither of them spoke, just sitting there breathing a little slower while the party carried on somewhere far behind them, until Paige shifted slightly and broke the silence with her voice lower than before as she said, “you know the other night at the end of year party.”
Azzi hummed softly without lifting her head, already knowing this wasn’t going to be something she could ignore.
Paige looked at her properly then, really properly, and said it without hesitation, “it was more than just a make out to me.”
Azzi finally lifted her head just enough to meet her eyes, seeing the seriousness there that made everything else fade for a second, before Paige added, “and I mean it when I said I see you more than my best friend’s sister.”
Azzi didn’t look away when she answered, her voice quieter but steady as she said, “it means more to me than a make out too,” before shifting closer and settling herself fully onto Paige’s lap in a way that felt less like a decision and more like something she had been doing in her head for days, continuing softly, “and I still mean it when I said I see you more than my brother’s best friend.”
Paige brushed a curl from Azzi’s face like she had been wanting to do it all night, and they leaned in at the same time, meeting in a kiss that didn’t feel rushed or unsure, just long and heavy with everything they hadn’t said out loud yet, and when they finally pulled back they stayed close, foreheads resting together as the noise of the party blurred again into something distant and irrelevant.
“Let me take you on a date,” Paige said quietly, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Azzi let out a small breath, eyes still locked on hers as she replied, “ask me again when we’re both sober so I know you’re 100 percent in.”
Paige didn’t even hesitate before kissing her again, softer this time but just as sure, and when she pulled back she murmured, “oh baby, I am 100 percent in, I’ll ask you again tomorrow.”
Their eyes stayed locked for a second longer than either of them needed, both of them a little dazed and too aware of each other now, and Azzi leaned in close again, her voice barely above a whisper as she said, “that doesn’t mean we can’t make out tonight.”
Paige gave a small breath of a laugh against her lips, shaking her head slightly like she couldn’t believe her, before answering just as quietly, “oh is that right.”
“Yeah,” Azzi said, soft but certain, tilting her head slightly as she added, “kiss me again Bueckers.”
That was all it took for Paige to pull her in again, the space between them disappearing completely as the rest of the world faded out behind the couch, the noise, the people,
The noise of the party didn’t just fade around them anymore; it felt like it stopped mattering entirely, like the couch had become its own small world tucked away from everything outside it. Music thumped somewhere far off, laughter rising and falling like waves they weren’t part of, but none of it could reach them now.
Paige’s hand stayed at Azzi’s waist, not moving, not wandering, just there steady like she was trying to convince herself this moment was real and not something she was going to wake up from later. Her thumb brushed once, absent minded, then paused like even that small touch had become too loud between them.
Azzi noticed anyway.
Of course she did.
Her eyes lifted slowly, catching Paige’s, holding them there like she wasn’t planning on letting go first this time.
“You’re staring,” Azzi murmured, voice low enough that it barely existed above the bass from the other room.
Paige exhaled a quiet laugh through her nose, but it wasn’t amused. It was shaky at the edges, like she was already losing control of whatever she’d been trying to keep in place all night. “Yeah,” she admitted, softer now. “I am.”
That was all it took.
No hesitation after that. No space left for second guessing.
Paige pulled her in.
Not rushed, not messy, just sure. Like something in her had finally snapped into place and there was no point pretending otherwise. Azzi went with it instantly, like she’d been waiting for exactly that kind of certainty from her.
The kiss landed slow at first, almost careful, like both of them were still checking if this was allowed to happen. Then it shifted subtle at first, then deeper, more real, like neither of them wanted to pretend anymore that they didn’t feel this every time they ended up too close for too long. Azzi’s hand slid into the front of Paige’s shirt, not pulling, just holding on like she needed something solid to anchor herself to. Paige responded by pulling her in closer, like distance had suddenly become unbearable.
When they finally broke apart, it wasn’t far. Not really. Just enough for air to return, just enough for their foreheads to almost meet again without either of them moving. Paige’s hand stayed at her waist even then, like letting go wasn’t an option she was willing to consider yet.
“We should go,” she said quietly, but it didn’t sound like she meant it fully.
Azzi didn’t move off her.
Instead, she stayed right there in her lap like she belonged there, like she’d decided somewhere in the last few minutes that that was just where she was supposed to be.
“Mm,” Azzi hummed, like she was agreeing and not agreeing at the same time.
Her eyes flicked up again.
Held.
Then she leaned in first this time.
No warning. No hesitation.
Just the same certainty Paige had used on her returned.
The second kiss wasn’t softer.
It wasn’t careful.
It was deeper, heavier with everything they hadn’t said out loud for months, like the night itself had finally pushed them past the point of pretending they didn’t already know exactly where this was going. Paige tightened her hold immediately, instinctively, like if she didn’t, Azzi might disappear back into the noise of the party behind them.
But Azzi didn’t pull away.
Not this time.
And for a few suspended seconds, the world outside the couch didn’t exist at all.
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The walk back to the lake house felt noticeably quieter than the walk there, not because the night itself had changed in any meaningful way, but because Jose wasn't with them, and his absence seemed to leave a strange gap in everything around them, like the world was missing a sound they had become so used to hearing that they only noticed it once it was gone.
The music from the party still echoed faintly behind them as they followed the path back toward the cabin, laughter occasionally carrying through the trees whenever the wind shifted in the right direction, but neither Paige nor Azzi said much. Part of it was because they were still thinking about everything that had happened inside the house, and part of it was because they couldn't stop wondering where Jose had disappeared to.
Before leaving, they had searched.
Not casually either.
They had walked through nearly every room in the house, checked the kitchen, the deck, the backyard, the dock stretching out toward the dark water, and even circled back through the driveway where cars kept arriving with headlights flashing across the trees. They had called his name more than once, texted him repeatedly, and waited longer than they originally planned, expecting him to suddenly appear with some ridiculous explanation the way he always did.
Instead, nothing.
No response.
No sight of him.
No familiar voice shouting back.
Eventually, after another unanswered text and another lap around the property, they had found themselves standing together near the edge of the yard looking back at the crowded house, both silently realizing they had reached the same conclusion.
There wasn't much else they could do.
"He'll probably show up at two in the morning acting like nothing happened," Azzi had muttered.
Paige laughed softly.
"That's exactly what he's going to do."
And because they both knew it was true, they finally gave up and headed home.
Now, as they pushed open the front door of the lake house, warm light immediately spilled over them from the kitchen and living room, replacing the cool night air with something familiar and comforting, and for a brief moment Azzi felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.
Home.
Or at least as close to home as this place had always felt.
Katie looked up first from where she was sitting at the kitchen table, a mug still in her hand, and her expression shifted almost immediately when she noticed who had walked through the door.
"Why are you two home already?" she asked, glancing toward the clock hanging on the wall. "It's only 11:30. I thought you'd be out for at least another hour."
Paige stepped inside first, setting her phone down on the counter as she slipped off her shoes near the door, and if Azzi hadn't spent the last several days around her she might have missed how quickly the explanation came.
"I had a headache," Paige said casually, reaching up to rub the side of her head for emphasis. "Azzi offered to come back with me."
Katie's attention shifted toward Azzi.
Azzi immediately nodded.
"The party was kind of boring anyway," she added with a shrug that she hoped looked convincing. "Not really our thing."
Paige had to look away to hide her smile.
Because that was definitely not the full story.
From the living room, Tim glanced up from his phone.
"Where's Jose?"
The question landed differently than the others.
Immediately.
The atmosphere shifted ever so slightly.
Not enough to create panic.
Just enough to make both girls exchange a quick look before answering.
"We tried to find him," Azzi said honestly. "We looked all over the place."
Paige nodded.
"Texted him too."
"No answer?"
"Nope."
Tim let out a short laugh through his nose.
"Sounds about right."
Katie leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a second.
"Oh my God."
"What?" Tim asked, already smiling.
"He does this every year."
"Every single year."
Katie pointed toward both girls.
"I guarantee he lost track of time talking to someone."
"Or flirting with someone," Tim added.
"Definitely flirting with someone."
The certainty in their voices made it impossible not to laugh.
Azzi shook her head.
"You're probably right."
"Of course we're right," Katie replied. "We've known him his entire life."
Paige laughed.
"Honestly, that makes me feel better."
"It should," Tim said. "If there was actual trouble, Jose would've found a way to involve everyone."
That earned another round of laughter.
The lingering concern slowly faded after that, replaced by the familiar comfort of family teasing someone who wasn't even present to defend themselves, and for the first time since leaving the party, everything felt normal again.
Eventually Katie stood and pointed toward the staircase.
"Alright. Go to bed."
"Yes, ma'am," Paige said immediately.
Katie narrowed her eyes.
"Don't be smart."
"I would never."
"That's a lie."
Even Azzi laughed at that.
A few minutes later, after saying their goodnights and listening to Tim make one final joke about Jose inevitably stumbling through the front door sometime before sunrise, Paige and Azzi headed upstairs together
Upstairs, the room felt different than it had on that first night, not because anything physical about it had changed in any obvious or dramatic way, but because the unfamiliar edges had gradually worn away over the past few days, replaced by a kind of quiet comfort that came from shared routines, overlapping habits, and the unspoken understanding that had started to settle between them without either of them ever really naming it out loud.
The evening seemed to slow down the moment the door clicked shut behind them, as if the noise and chaos of the party outside had been left behind entirely, and both of them naturally slipped into the familiar rhythm they had developed over the trip, moving around each other in the small space without needing to ask, without needing to explain, just existing in the same room in a way that somehow felt easier than it should have.
Paige disappeared into the bathroom first while Azzi stayed back in the room, setting her phone down on the nightstand, pulling her hair away from her face, and gathering everything she would need for her shower in slow, distracted motions, focusing on each small, ordinary task with a kind of careful attention that kept her grounded, because anything else would have led her right back to the memory of the party and the way Paige had looked at her when everything had shifted.
The night still lingered in her mind in fragments that refused to settle properly, the way conversations had faded in and out around her, the way time had felt slightly off all evening, and most of all the way Paige had looked at her earlier like she was no longer something to be kept at a distance or thought about in passing but something she was fully aware of, constantly aware of.
By the time the bathroom door finally opened again, Azzi had managed to convince herself she looked completely normal, sitting on the edge of the bed with her phone in her hand like she was absorbed in something unimportant, like she wasn’t replaying anything in her head at all, like she wasn’t waiting without admitting she was waiting.
She glanced up.
And immediately regretted it.
Because she was dressed down in comfortable pj shorts and a Calvin Klein bra that left her shoulders and midriff relaxed and unguarded, and Azzi, who had been pretending to focus on her phone, immediately made the mistake of looking up at the wrong moment.
Paige noticed almost instantly, like she always did, like she had developed an almost unfair awareness of her over the past few days, and a quiet laugh slipped out before she could stop it, soft and amused in a way that made it very clear she had caught her completely.
“What?” Azzi asked too quickly, even though she already knew.
Paige folded her arms loosely, leaning against the doorway for a moment with an expression that was far too knowing.
“You tell me.”
“I wasn’t doing anything.”
Paige tilted her head slightly.
“Mm.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Sure.”
Azzi rolled her eyes, trying to recover some of her composure, but it didn’t really work because Paige was already smiling wider now, clearly enjoying this far too much.
Without saying anything else, Paige crossed the room in a few slow steps that felt unnecessary but deliberate, like she was aware of exactly what her presence did to the space between them, and reached up gently to tilt Azzi’s chin upward just slightly so she had no choice but to meet her eyes properly.
“Eyes up here, princess,” she teased softly, her voice low enough that it felt more personal than playful.
The nickname alone was enough to make Azzi’s face warm instantly, her expression shifting before she could stop it, and she let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh even though she was clearly trying to hide how much it affected her.
“You really enjoy embarrassing me,” she muttered.
“A little,” Paige admitted easily.
“A little?”
Paige laughed under her breath, clearly not even pretending anymore.
“Okay,” she corrected, “maybe more than a little.”
Azzi narrowed her eyes, trying to look offended, but it didn’t last more than a second before she was fighting a smile instead, because there was something about the way Paige looked at her right then that made it impossible to stay serious for long.
Paige stayed there for a moment longer than necessary, still close enough that the space between them felt smaller than it should have, before finally pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead and stepping back again like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“There she is,” Paige said quietly, like she had just confirmed something she already knew. “You were overthinking again.”
“I was not.”
“You absolutely were.”
Azzi opened her mouth to argue, then stopped, because the problem was that they both knew she was right, and there was something frustrating about how easily Paige could read her without even trying.
Paige pointed toward the bathroom with a small nod.
“Go shower.”
Azzi narrowed her eyes slightly.
“You’re very bossy tonight.”
“And you’re avoiding sleep.”
“I am not.”
Paige smiled again, softer now, less teasing and more honest.
“I just want to actually spend time with you before we both pass out.”
That landed differently, quieter in a way that made Azzi pause for half a second longer than she meant to, because it wasn’t said like a joke or a comment anymore, it was just real.
Azzi adjusted her grip on her things.
“Fine.”
“Good.”
As she started toward the bathroom, she hesitated at the doorway and glanced back over her shoulder, finding Paige already sitting down on the bed now, watching her with a relaxed expression that somehow made the whole room feel calmer.
“You know,” Azzi said, lingering just long enough to make it clear she wasn’t in a rush, “you’re kind of lucky I like you.”
Paige didn’t even hesitate.
“I’m aware.”
That earned an immediate eye roll from Azzi, though the smile on her face gave her away completely.
And then she finally disappeared into the bathroom, while Paige’s quiet laughter followed her out into the hallway, and for the first time all night, nothing felt complicated in the way it had before.
When Azzi came back out, the room had settled into something softer and quieter, the lights dimmed low enough that everything felt calmer than before, and Paige was sitting at the edge of the bed scrolling through her phone until she felt the shift in the room and looked up at exactly the wrong moment to pretend she hadn’t been waiting for her.
Azzi was wearing one of Paige’s shirts, oversized on her frame and hanging slightly off one shoulder in a way that looked accidental but definitely wasn’t, clearly taken without permission and paired with sleep shorts underneath, her hair still slightly damp from the shower, and the second she stepped fully into the room there was this brief pause where neither of them said anything at all.
Paige tilted her head slowly, her expression shifting into something amused almost immediately.
“Hey,” she said, setting her phone down properly now, like it didn’t matter anymore. “That’s my shirt.”
Azzi glanced down at it and tugged lightly at the hem like it wasn’t a big deal at all.
“It looked comfortable.”
Paige let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head a little as she leaned back on her hands.
“You could’ve asked.”
“I didn’t need permission.”
That made Paige smile wider, like she was trying not to.
Then she nodded toward her. “You can keep it.”
Azzi blinked slightly.
Paige didn’t look away when she added, more casually than it probably felt, “It looks better on you anyway.”
That landed in the middle of the room and just stayed there.
Azzi’s expression softened without her meaning to, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly like she didn’t quite know what to do with that kind of honesty, and for a few seconds neither of them filled the silence, because it didn’t feel like it needed to be filled.
They just looked at each other.
Not awkward.
Not rushed.
Just aware.
Then, without any conversation about it, like it was the most natural conclusion in the world, they both got into bed.
There wasn’t a question of sides or distance or space, Azzi settling in almost immediately against Paige as if her body already knew where it belonged, curling into her side with her head resting against Paige’s chest and one arm draped loosely over her stomach, while Paige adjusted around her instinctively, one arm coming up to hold her in place without even thinking about it, like she had already memorized how to do it correctly.
The room fell completely quiet except for the slow rhythm of their breathing.
The rest of the house felt miles away.
Paige glanced down at her for a moment longer than necessary, her hand resting lightly at Azzi’s back before she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, slower this time, quieter, like she wasn’t doing it to be playful anymore but because it felt like something she needed to do, and Azzi didn’t move away from it at all.
Didn’t even hesitate.
Eventually, Paige spoke again, barely above a whisper.
“Sleep.”
Azzi made a small sound in response, something between agreement and exhaustion, already drifting before she even fully settled into it.
And a few minutes later, Paige followed, holding her just a little closer as the night finally softened around them completely, both of them falling asleep tangled together in a way that didn’t feel accidental anymore, but inevitable.
synopsis: sometimes love is waiting patiently at the end of a road you never planned to travel. and the person who helps you survive your darkest days becomes the reason you start looking forward to brighter ones.
cw: angst if you squint?
wc: 5.5k (omg a longer chapter. wow!)
chapter nine:
The entire world feels like it’s closing in on Azzi.
The noise, the lights, the press of bodies against the metal barricades. It all blurs together as she works her way down the line of fans, Sharpie uncapped, grabbing jerseys, homemade posters, and glossy photos.
She signs every single one, because that’s who she is. These are the people who fill the stands week after week. The kids with wide, awestruck eyes. The adults who followed her from college to Europe to here. Families dressed head to toe in Spirit navy and red. This is part of the job, part of the privilege that comes with getting paid to play the game she loves.
Even tonight, when exhaustion hums deep in her bones and all she wants is a scalding shower and a drink with her teammates, Azzi keeps the smile plastered on her face. She moves down the barricade, scribbling her name across fabric and paper, murmuring thank-yous, and letting herself be pulled into quick photos while fielding shouted compliments.
Finally, she reaches the end.
The crowd thins, voices drifting away toward the parking lot as engines start and doors slam. The cool air seeps through her damp jersey, and Azzi exhales a long, grateful breath as she caps the marker and rolls her shoulders, working out the stiffness settling in. She’s just about to head toward the tunnel when she spots two navy blue Fudd jerseys draped over the fence.
Her smile shifts immediately.
“I didn’t know you two could make it!” she calls, stepping closer.
Paige is there in an instant, arms wrapping around her, familiar vanilla-and-woodsy scent cutting through sweat and grass. Emma follows, her hug gentler but just as comforting. Azzi holds them both tightly, relief settling in her chest at the sight of them together, smiling and relaxed. Whatever had weighed Paige down earlier this week, it looks like they worked it out. The grateful, sheepish grin Paige shoots her over Emma’s shoulder confirms it.
“We wouldn’t miss it! Can we get an autograph from the superstar?” Emma teases, holding out her jersey.
Azzi laughs, snapping out of the silent exchange with Paige. With exaggerated flair, she signs both jerseys and steps back to admire her work. When they tug them on, grinning at each other like kids on Christmas morning, something warm spreads through her.
“You guys know I could’ve gotten you those for free, right?”
They shrug, still smiling, like that part doesn’t matter at all.
Paige leans forward, mischief lighting her blue eyes. “Maybe we can get a game-worn autographed one to hang up in our house?”
Azzi rolls her eyes, amusement tugging at her mouth. Before she can fire back, someone shouts her name from across the field. A few teammates wave, talking about where they’re heading next.
The stadium is nearly empty now. Lights cast long shadows across damp grass. The scent of fresh grass lingers, mixing with popcorn and spilled beer.
Azzi turns back to Paige and Emma.
“Yeah,” she says, nodding toward Emma’s belly, “and I can also get one made for the little guy, too.”
Their faces light up instantly, and that alone makes it worth it.
For a moment, the three of them just stand there, watching the last fans filter out. Parents herd sleepy kids toward cars as the buzz of the night fades into something quieter. A breeze slips through the lot, lifting strands of Paige’s hair as she unties the button-up from her waist and drapes it around Emma’s shoulders, rubbing her arms to warm her.
Azzi smiles at the gesture, then finally asks, “You feeling up for a little celebration with my team?”
Emma nods without much hesitation. “I could use a fun night out. This one keeps me locked up in the house like I could break at any moment,” she says, elbowing Paige.
Azzi looks to Paige, waiting for the protest, but it never comes. Paige presses her lips together, clearly surrendering. It’s a losing battle anyway. Azzi always sides with Emma and they all know it.
“Where should we meet you?” Paige asks, pulling Emma closer against the chill.
Azzi stretches, rolling her ankle, working through the ache left behind by a rough tackle earlier. Worth it, she thinks, remembering how she shut down the other team’s shifty Brazilian striker and helped lock in a 2–0 win.
“We’re heading to the West Alehouse,” Azzi says. “Back room’s reserved. Just give them my name. You’re on the list.”
Paige and Emma exchange exaggerated looks.
“Oh babe, we’re on the list,” Paige teases, with a smug grin. “We must be special.”
Azzi smirks and swats her arm before she can dodge it. Paige yelps dramatically, rubbing her arm with exaggeration.
“You’re ridiculous,” Azzi says with a shake of her head. “I’ve gotta shower and change, but I’ll meet you there shortly.”
They part ways, Paige guiding Emma toward their SUV, Azzi heading for the locker room.
The locker room is nearly empty when Azzi gets there, smelling like shampoo and sweat. She’s grateful the rookies already left, and took their annoyingly bass-heavy playlist with them.
Azzi peels off her jersey, drops it into the overflowing laundry bin, and steps into the shower. The heat hits, sinking into tired muscles, loosening everything that’s been wound tight since kickoff.
This is her reset.
Wins feel euphoric. Losses crawl under her skin. But she’s learned not to live in either place for too long. The season moves fast and the next game always matters more than the last.
Still, tonight feels different.
Under the steady stream of water, she breathes deep. It’s early but they’re sitting at the top of the standings, with a game in hand. Proof she made the right choice coming home, that she belongs here. And tonight, there’s a room full of people waiting to celebrate her. She didn’t have that in Munich.
The thought fades as a slow smile spreads across her face. She shuts off the water, dries off, and pulls on dark jeans and a cropped tee, pulling her wet hair back into a messy bun. She casts one last glance in the mirror, bag slung over her shoulder, before heading for the parking lot, ready for whatever the night brings next.
***** *** *****
Fifteen minutes later, Azzi pushes through the doors of the bar and straight into controlled chaos.
The place is packed wall to wall, the air thick with the smell of fried food and beer. Laughter ricochets off the exposed brick and a throwback rock song thumps through the floorboards, the bass vibrating faintly through her boots. The floor beneath her feet is just slightly tacky, the unmistakable sign of a very busy night.
Azzi barely makes it ten feet inside before a pair of warm hands land on her shoulders. Then comes the squeal.
She doesn’t need to turn around to know exactly who it is.
“Hey, Caroline!”
Azzi spins just in time to brace herself before she’s pulled into a tight hug, laughter bursting out of her before she can stop it. A small crowd gathers almost instantly, old college teammates, friends who made the drive into town for the game, faces she hasn’t seen all together in years. She hugs them one by one, soaking in the exaggerated compliments and relentless teasing, the familiar energy filling her up with joy.
For the first time in a while, she feels right. Like she’s standing exactly where she’s supposed to be.
A cold beer is pressed into her hand, condensation slick against her palm, and her friends herd her toward the back room where the rest of the team has already taken over. It’s loud and crowded and full of overlapping conversations. Spirit teammates mingle easily with her UConn crew, and Azzi watches with quiet satisfaction as introductions turn into inside jokes faster than she expected.
What Azzi doesn’t expect is for the night to turn into a competition of who has the most embarrassing stories about her.
It starts harmlessly enough—a comment about her pregame poop ritual, a jab at how seriously awful her indecision is—but then Kayleigh leans back in her chair, beer in hand, eyes gleaming.
“Oh, you guys don’t even know half of it,” Kayleigh says, smirking. “There was this one time Az caught the freshmen sneaking out to drink the night before a game. And you know what she did? Made them all stay after the match to run suicides. And she ran with them. After playing a full ninety.”
The room erupts.
Azzi groans, dropping her face into her palms. “Alright. I need another drink if I’m going to survive this.”
She slips away before anyone can dig up more horror stories, weaving through the tightly packed crowd toward the main bar. Bodies press close on either side of her, heat radiating through the space, as she wedges herself between two patrons, waiting for the bartender’s attention.
Suddenly, someone bumps hard into her side, right into the bruised rib she picked up earlier.
Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, irritation flaring instantly. She turns, already halfway through an annoyed response. “Excuse me—”
She stops cold when piercing hazel eyes meet hers.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman says quickly, stepping back. Her gaze flicks over Azzi in a brief, assessing sweep before she gestures behind her. “Some guy bumped into me.”
The edge drains from Azzi’s annoyance almost immediately. “It’s okay,” she says, waving it off. “I just figured it was some drunk guy and not a… uh…”
The woman arches an eyebrow, lips curving. “A beautiful woman?”
Azzi lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a cough as her brain glitches at the woman’s confidence. Though, she’s not wrong. The crowd shifts, shadows passing over them as the overhead lights dim just enough for her to really see her—long hair that looks strawberry blonde under the neon glow, a white lace tank top skimming toned shoulders, confidence rolling off her like it’s second nature.
Oh.
Oh, she’s flirting.
Warmth creeps up Azzi’s neck, and she realizes too late that she’s leaned in slightly, mirroring the woman’s posture. She swallows, throat suddenly dry.
“Uh… yeah,” Azzi manages.
The woman’s smile deepens, like she’s fully aware of the effect she’s having. Before Azzi can embarrass herself further, the bartender calls out for her order, cutting through the moment like a lifeline.
Unwilling to embarrass herself anymore, Azzi takes it. She flashes the woman a quick, awkward smile and turns to order another beer. After a moment, he slides it across the bar, and Azzi motions to add it to the tab before retreating with it in hand. When she glances back, the woman is still watching her, amused, curious, eyes lingering.
Flustered and annoyed about it, Azzi mutters something about it being nice to meet her and disappears back into the crowd.
She doesn’t make it far before she nearly collides with Paige. The blonde is staring at her like she just witnessed a minor crime.
“What the hell was that, Fudd?”
The grin on Paige’s face says everything. Azzi groans, cheeks burning. Yep. She was definitely flirting.
“Not now,” Azzi mutters, pushing past her.
Paige laughs, lifting the water glass she’s holding for Emma, but Azzi is already heading back to the safety of the group. She tries to shake it off, but the woman’s confidence clings to her thoughts, curling there like fog she can’t quite clear.
She sips her beer, tucks herself between familiar shoulders, and rests her head against Caroline’s as old stories resurface. She feels content, until Paige opens her big fat mouth again.
“Has Azzi always been super awkward around attractive women?”
The room goes quiet and every head turns towards Paige.
Caroline squints and nods knowingly. “Uh, yes. She’s terrible at picking up girls. Almost as bad as when they try to pick her up.”
Laughter explodes around them, and Azzi stiffens, mortified, because it’s true. She’s confident on the field, decisive under pressure—but flirting? Especially now, after everything? She’s wildly out of practice.
“Alright,” she warns, “that’s enough.”
Too fucking late.
Paige grabs her wrist and starts dragging her toward the bar.
But Paige is already tapping the woman on the shoulder.
She turns, confusion flickering across her face before recognition dawns. Those hazel eyes meet Azzi’s again, widening. Amusement follows quickly as Paige leans in to say something over the music. The woman’s smile turns slow and deliberate, pulse-skippingly confident, as she whispers back in Paige’s ear.
Paige steps back, wearing the smuggest grin Azzi has ever seen as she gestures casually at the woman behind her. “Her name is Nora,” she says over the music. “She likes dry martinis. Buy her one and try actually talking this time.”
And then she shoves Azzi forward and vanishes into the crowd, leaving Azzi’s heart pounding and a beautiful stranger waiting.
Azzi barely has time to process Paige’s absolute betrayal before the woman—Nora, apparently—tilts her head, studying her with open, unmistakable interest.
“I’m Nora,” she says, leaning in just enough that Azzi catches the faint trace of something floral. Her voice is smooth and assured, and her warm breath brushes the shell of Azzi’s ear as she speaks.
Azzi swallows, forcing her focus to lock back in. She introduces herself, shaking Nora’s hand, and immediately regrets how aware she is of the contact. Her body feels warm all over, heat pooling low in her stomach, and she can’t quite tell what’s to blame—the alcohol, the sweat-heavy haze of the bar, the embarrassment of being pushed into this situation, or the way Nora’s grip lingers.
The air between them shifts.
It’s subtle, but Azzi feels it all the same. An undercurrent she hasn’t let herself acknowledge in a long time. Not since Germany. Not since… her. She should feel uncomfortable under Nora’s assessing gaze, she should instinctively pull back. Instead, something steadier takes hold. Maybe it’s the leftover adrenaline from the win, still buzzing through her veins. Maybe it’s the three beers already working their way through her system. Either way, she feels oddly emboldened, like she’s standing on the edge of something unfamiliar but not entirely unwelcome.
Nora’s lips curve into a half-smile as she steps closer. “Want to get a drink? My treat.”
Azzi exhales, steadying herself. She hesitates just long enough for old ghosts to stir—memories of mistakes she promised herself she wouldn’t repeat. But the warmth of Nora’s hand and the steadiness of her gaze, makes her shove those thoughts back down. It’s just a drink. That’s all.
“I’ll buy,” Azzi counters, feeling some of her confidence slide back into place. “I hear you like martinis.”
Nora nods, clearly pleased. Her hand settles at the small of Azzi’s back as she guides her toward the bar. The touch is light, almost casual, but it sends a slow, unmistakable burn across Azzi’s exposed skin.
Before she can overthink it, Azzi glances back toward the booth where Paige and Emma sit, surrounded by teammates and old friends. They’re all watching her with barely concealed anticipation, like she’s lining up to take the game-deciding penalty kick in a World Cup final.
Nora follows her gaze and smirks. “You’ve got a good friend in that one.”
Azzi groans, dropping her head as she draws in a slow breath. “I guess I do.”
The heat of the packed bar presses against her back, but standing this close to Nora, she barely notices it. They slide up to the bar together, and Azzi risks one last glance over her shoulder.
Paige catches it immediately, winks, and flashes a triumphant thumbs-up.
Azzi shakes her head, smiling despite herself, before turning back to Nora and leaning across the bar to flag down the bartender. Whatever this night was supposed to be, it’s already taken a turn she didn’t expect.
This post-game gathering was meant to celebrate a win.
And tonight, she decides, she’s going to enjoy every second of it.
***** *** *****
Azzi blinks against the bright sunlight cutting through a narrow gap in the blackout curtains, the sudden intrusion making her wince as she stirs. Her head throbs, heavy and sluggish, as hazy fragments of the night before drift in and out of focus.
Please tell me I didn’t go home with that woman, she thinks.
Her stomach twists, dread curling tight in her chest. She lies still, afraid to turn over, heart thudding as she braces herself for confirmation. When she finally gathers the courage to reach out, her fingers brush cool, undisturbed sheets.
Relief floods her lungs in a shaky breath.
Whatever happened last night, at least she didn’t cross that line. She may have felt the pull, may have danced dangerously close to it in her drunken haze, but that’s never been her style. Not really.
Her phone vibrates violently against the wooden nightstand, rattling Azzi from her thoughts. The screen lights up, probably the fifth missed call, and she groans, burying her face in the pillow.
She tries to ignore it and go back to sleep. Then comes the knock, firm, insistent, and impossible to ignore.
“Shit,” Azzi mutters, forcing herself upright despite the pounding in her skull. Her body aches as she swings her legs over the side of the bed, muscles protesting every movement. She snatches an oversized UCONN t-shirt from the floor and pulls it over her head, the fabric barely grazing the tops of her thighs. She doesn’t bother checking herself, knowing the woman knocking won’t care.
Yawning, she reaches for the heavy wooden door and pulls it open without checking the peephole.
“Well then…”
Azzi’s blood runs cold at the sound of Paige’s voice.
That is not who she expected. She’d assumed it was her elderly neighbor again, fumbling with her keys and needing help.
Paige, it seems, is just as caught off guard.
Azzi looks up, blinking as Paige freezes on the other side of the threshold, blue eyes widening before she quickly turns away. A faint blush creeps up the blonde’s neck as she clears her throat, rubbing the back of it like she’s trying to scrub the image from her brain.
“Um… hey…” Paige says, her voice noticeably higher than usual.
Azzi tightens her grip on the door, angling it slightly to block her bare legs as awareness crashes in all at once. Locker rooms are one thing, but this is something else entirely. She’s suddenly acutely aware of how long Paige’s gaze lingered, how quickly she looked away, and the realization sends a strange twinge through her.
“What are you doing here?” Azzi hisses.
Paige still doesn’t turn back. “Last night, we made plans to grab lunch and take you to your car. I tried calling a few times. Emma’s waiting in the car.”
She jerks her thumb toward the parking lot, voice tight, determined to power through the moment.
Azzi scrubs a hand over her face, sighing. She doesn’t remember agreeing to lunch, but that tracks. Drunk Azzi always makes plans that Sober Azzi comes to regret. She winces, guilt cutting through the fog when she realizes Paige is just trying to help.
“I’m sorry,” Azzi says, offering a sheepish smile. “Rough morning. Can you give me a few minutes?”
Paige finally risks a glance back, brows lifting in mock confusion. “You mean you weren’t planning on wearing that?”
Azzi laughs before she can stop herself, the sound breaking the tension instantly. The awkwardness shatters, her headache easing just a fraction in the wake of Paige’s teasing. Leave it to Paige to diffuse a moment like this with humor, something Azzi’s grown very used to over the last few months.
“You’re an asshole,” Azzi mutters, shaking her head. “And I’m only going because I need my car. And also… I might need you to fill me in on what actually happened last night.”
Azzi steps aside, opening the door wider in invitation.
Paige hesitates for a brief beat before stepping inside, acutely aware of how close she is to her now. She keeps her gaze carefully trained anywhere but Azzi’s bare legs, focusing instead on the apartment as if it might offer something safer to look. Anything neutral. Anything that doesn’t make her hyper-aware of the way her pulse has picked up for no good reason at all.
Azzi heads down the hall to what Paige presumes is her bedroom, after telling the blonde she just needs a couple minutes.
The apartment is a one-bedroom tucked into the heart of the city, only a few miles from the stadium. Paige inhales instinctively, registering the scent first, a citrus lavender mix from a candle, probably. Maybe even one Azzi forgot to blow out last night.
The living room opens up in front of her, modest but thoughtfully arranged. A plush charcoal-gray couch sits against the far wall, one cushion indented just enough to suggest it’s either Azzi’s favorite spot or has spent too long in storage before finally being freed. A coffee table anchors the space, cluttered with stacks of sports magazines and dog-eared novels. Paige pauses on that, surprised, though she doesn’t quite know why.
The apartment feels homey, even if not fully settled. There’s comfort here, some personality and evidence of a life mid-transition rather than one freshly unpacked.
Artifacts from Azzi’s travels line the walls. Handwoven blankets from South America drape neatly over a chair. Ornate beer steins from Germany and Hungary sit arranged along a narrow shelf. Small trinkets, things most people would overlook, are placed with care, each clearly holding some private meaning. Paige trails her fingers over the thick wool of a Peruvian throw, her gaze drifting naturally toward a gallery of framed photographs mounted above it.
She steps closer.
Some images are familiar, Azzi with teammates, arms slung loosely over shoulders, grinning in front of landmarks Paige has only ever seen in travel documentaries. The Eiffel Tower. Big Ben. Christ the Redeemer towering above Rio.
Then one photograph stops her cold.
Azzi stands on the edge of a cliff overlooking white sand beaches and impossibly blue water somewhere along a coastline. Her arms are outstretched, dark hair whipped wild by the wind, eyes closed like she’s drinking in the sun itself. There’s a sense of freedom in the image that steals Paige’s breath, a version of Azzi unguarded and unburdened, fully alive.
Paige’s fingers hover just above the glass.
She thinks, briefly, of the places she once dreamed of visiting. Of how different things might have been if her injury hadn’t rerouted her life entirely. Maybe, if circumstances had shifted just a little, she would’ve been standing beside Azzi in some of these pictures with teammates instead of studying them from afar. Paige had been good enough to start getting looks with the youth national teams before injury crippled her.
The soft shuffle of footsteps in the hallway pulls her from the thought.
“Almost ready,” Azzi calls from her room.
Paige smiles faintly to herself, shaking her head. No matter the context, no matter the woman, she always seems to be waiting for someone to finish getting ready.
Her gaze drifts downward, catching on a small stack of dusty boxes pushed against the wall near the bedroom. Thick red CUSTOMS tape wraps around most of them, untouched, the edges worn from travel. One box, though, sits partially open. A small pile of photographs rests on top, slightly askew, like they were set down in a moment of indecision or haste, maybe.
Paige hesitates, but curiosity wins.
She picks them up carefully, flipping through them one by one. Most are older, from her college years or early days in Germany. Azzi looks younger in these, softer around the edges, still figuring herself out. Paige is about to put them back when one image makes her pause.
She isn’t sure what it is at first. Maybe it’s Azzi’s smile, wide and unrestrained. Or the way she’s looking at the woman beside her, eyes soft with something dangerously close to reverence.
Paige’s chest tightens as she flips to the next photo.
The lake behind them glows under a painted sunset, but Paige barely notices the scenery. Her focus locks onto Azzi, caught mid-laugh, eyes crinkled as a stunning woman wraps her arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her cheek. It’s intimate without trying to be, a moment shared just between them.
And then Paige sees it.
A glint beneath the dying light. Subtle, easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it.
A ring.
The realization hits her all at once.
So this is her.
This is the woman that broke Azzi Fudd.
Paige exhales slowly, her grip tightening around the photographs. It’s not just heartbreak, but devastation. A loss deep enough to fracture something fundamental.
“Ready?”
Azzi’s voice comes from behind her.
Paige jerks, startled, the stack of photos slipping from her fingers and scattering across the floor.
Azzi watches Paige fumble with the scattered photographs, her movements hurried in an apologetic, frantic way that’s impossible to miss. The blonde’s fingers tremble just slightly as she gathers them into an uneven stack, afraid of what they might reveal if she lingers too long.
Azzi drops to her knees to help, her gaze landing immediately on a familiar image clutched in Paige’s hand. One she hasn’t seen in years. The recognition hits suddenly, a quick tug beneath her ribs that steals her breath before she can stop it.
She doesn’t let herself dwell. Without a word, Azzi wordlessly plucks the photo from Paige’s grip and slips it back into the open box. She presses the lid down harder than necessary, the cardboard giving a dull thud as it seals shut. Whatever Paige saw stays buried.
Azzi straightens slowly, brushing invisible dust from her jeans, her jaw tight as she schools her expression into something neutral. She bites the inside of her cheek, calming herself before looking back at Paige.
“Shall we?” she says, voice steady, but with an unmistakable edge to it now.
Paige hesitates. It’s brief, barely a flicker, but Azzi catches the way she shifts her weight, the way her mouth opens like she might say something and then closes again. For a moment, it feels like Paige is standing at the edge of something, deciding whether to step forward.
Thankfully, all she does is nod.
“Yeah,” Paige says quietly. “Let’s go.”
Relief loosens Azzi’s shoulders. She turns away before Paige can change her mind, grabbing her apartment keys from where she’d flung them the night before. She slides her aviators onto her face as they head for the door, telling herself it’s for the glare of the sun and the lingering headache, not to hide the emotions threatening to crack through the surface.
She doesn’t think Paige buys it, but thankfully, she doesn’t call her on it either.
***** *** *****
Thirty minutes later, they’re settled on the patio of The Hive, a quaint bistro tucked into a quiet corner of the city. Inside, the hum of conversation drifts through open windows, mingling with the soft clink of silverware against ceramic plates. A waitress in a faded denim apron weaves between tables, balancing a tray of cappuccinos and flaky croissants, the rich scent of espresso lingering in the air alongside the sweetness of freshly baked pastries.
Outside, a light breeze stirs the leaves of potted plants lining the railing. It’s cool enough to bite, but Azzi insisted on sitting out here anyway. She needs the fresh air.
Azzi stabs at her salad as Paige launches into a dramatic retelling of the night before, her hands flying as Emma laughs beside her.
“You should have seen your face, Az!” Paige wheezes between bursts of laughter. “When I pushed you toward her and booked it back to the table, I thought you were going to murder me!”
Azzi rolls her eyes, though she can’t stop the smirk tugging at her mouth. “The thought definitely crossed my mind,” she admits, chewing slowly. “But I suppose I owe you a thank you.”
Paige’s grin turns smug instantly. “I mean, I am the best wingman, aren’t I, babe?” She nudges Emma like she’s expecting confirmation.
Emma just hums, unbothered. “Whatever you say.”
Azzi shakes her head, staring down at her plate as she struggles to spear a rogue crouton. “I remember talking to her for a while and introducing her to everyone.” She pauses, heat creeping up her neck. “Then a lot of shots happened and I woke up in my bed this morning.”
Paige and Emma exchange a look.
Azzi narrows her eyes. “What?”
Emma leans forward, her tone amused but honest. “You and Nora couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”
Azzi’s stomach twists, not with embarrassment, but with surprise. That isn’t like her. At least not anymore.
“She was nice,” Emma adds. “And she wasn’t trying to take advantage of you.”
Azzi glances between them. “What do you mean?”
“At the end of the night, she came up to me,” Paige says. “She asked me to make sure you got home safe. She was really sweet.”
Azzi blinks. Her memory of the night is fractured—neon lights, laughter, warmth—but then the memory floods in. Warm lips brushing hers in a dim hallway, hands slipping under the back of her shirt.
Paige slides a napkin across the table. “She also asked me to give you this.”
Azzi looks down. It takes her a second to register the West Alehouse logo before her eyes find the number written in slightly messy handwriting.
Her stomach drops.
It isn’t the first number she’s been given since Lucina. But it’s the first one that’s made something shift inside her. She keeps her sunglasses on as her jaw clenches, grateful for the shield as a single tear pricks at the corner of her eye.
Paige watches her carefully. “You can thank me now.”
Azzi exhales through her nose. “Thanks,” she mutters, forcing a smile. “Maybe I’ll text her later.”
Paige and Emma share another look.
“What?” Azzi asks.
“You should text her now,” Paige says excitedly.
Azzi scoffs, trying to brush it off, but she knows Paige saw the photos. Saw the version of her that existed before everything broke.
“You deserve someone great, Az,” Paige adds.
The words hit Azzi square in the chest. She opens her mouth, then closes it again. She doesn’t know if she believes that, not when the past still clings to her like a shadow.
“I guess,” she says finally.
Paige doesn’t let it drop. She nudges Azzi’s hand toward the napkin. “Just text her.”
Azzi hesitates, then pulls out her phone. She types a simple message, nothing dramatic. Her thumb hovers over the screen, pulse thrumming steadily. Without thinking, she rubs the inside of her ring finger, the place where a band once sat. The phantom weight is still there, stubborn as ever.
Then she exhales and hits send.
Emma smiles as the waitress clears their plates. “What are you doing today?”
Azzi shrugs. “I was going to nap. Maybe go for a run.” Her phone vibrates. She glances down at the message, her stomach flipping. “But maybe I’ll meet up with Nora later.”
Paige gasps dramatically. “Yes!” she shouts, pumping her first in the air, uncaring about the stares she earns. “I am the best wingman ever.”
Azzi shakes her head, laughing. She looks back down at her phone, fingers already typing.
Maybe she isn’t ready to move forward, but the only way to know that is to try.
synopsis: sometimes love is waiting patiently at the end of a road you never planned to travel. and the person who helps you survive your darkest days becomes the reason you start looking forward to brighter ones.
cw: slighttt angst. and remember. this is a slow slow burn.
wc: 3.5k
chapter eight:
“Hey, best friend!”
Azzi’s voice fills the speaker the second the call connects, bright and teasing, brimming with the normal enthusiasm that usually tugs a smile out of Paige without effort. And it does, her lips curve reflexively, but the expression doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She leans back in her desk chair, staring up at the grid of blank ceiling tiles above her looking for some kind of clarity. The tightness in her chest doesn’t ease.
“You’re too much, Fudd,” Paige replies, keeping her tone warm even as it comes out a little quieter than usual.
The nickname had stuck sometime after Paige started spending more time around the team, gathering input for the stadium project. It was Azzi’s idea, insisting every player get a voice instead of just her.
That insistence led to Paige being invited to a few practices, then lingering for post-practice lunches, then somehow ending up in late-afternoon coffee shops where conversations stretched far longer than either of them intended. Paige doesn’t remember the exact moment it shifted. She’s not entirely sure when talking to Azzi stopped feeling like something she scheduled and started feeling automatic, but she knows she could sit across from her and talk for hours. Sometimes, she does.
“Oh, stop. You love it,” Azzi shoots back.
Paige hums in agreement, but she doesn’t fully play along. There’s some hesitation she doesn’t quite mask, and she hopes Azzi doesn’t hear it through the line. Unfortunately, Azzi has always been terrifyingly perceptive.
“What’s up?” Azzi asks, her tone changing to be more probing. “Why did you call?”
The question catches Paige off guard. Usually, they don’t need a reason. Most times they call just to exist in the same moment, to share something inconsequential, to fill the quiet stretches of their day, or when they just need a friend. This time, Azzi is asking for intention.
Why did I call?
Paige exhales and rubs her temple with her free hand.
“I don’t know,” she admits, but the soft clearing of Azzi’s throat on the other end tells her that answer isn’t going to cut it. Paige sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose before finally letting the truth surface. “Work. Emma. The baby coming. It’s just… a lot.”
She hadn’t meant for it to sound so heavy, but it is. Everything feels heavier lately. The constant balancing act of deadlines and design meetings layered on top of preparing for a baby. The pressure to reassure Emma that she’s got everything under control, when in reality, she’s not entirely sure she does.
Azzi doesn’t interrupt. Paige can picture her on the other end listening and waiting. When she finally speaks, her voice is coaxing, softened with something almost playful. “Do you want to go grab a drink? It’s Happy Hour.”
Despite herself, Paige smiles.
She knows that tone. It’s the same one Azzi uses when she insists on picking the lunch spot, the same one her teammates joke about falling for over and over again. Paige has definitely fallen for it more times than she’d care to admit.
She pushes back from her glass desk, rolling her chair a few inches before standing. Walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that span the length of her office, she looks out over the city from twenty stories up. From here, everything looks deceptively calm. There’s cars inching through rush-hour traffic, people reduced to tiny figures moving with purpose below. For a fleeting moment, she considers staying up here, suspended above the mess of it all, delaying the life waiting for her down below.
She shakes the thought away. That’s not how life works.
“Sure, why not,” she says, turning back toward her desk to gather her things. “How about that new place on 8th Street? Landmark Inn, isn’t it?”
She doesn’t really need to wait for Azzi’s response. She already knows the answer.
The Landmark Inn has been on Azzi’s radar for weeks. She’s already mentioned wanting to go there three times. It’s one of the city’s latest reclaimed spaces, an old industrial building renovated into an upscale lounge. Exposed brick, metal beams, repurposed wood tables, with floor-to-ceiling windows framing the skyline. It’s part of that stretch of the city where forgotten buildings are reborn as trendy destinations, catering to a white-collar crowd happy to spend twenty dollars on a decent cocktail without blinking.
Paige slides a few files into her leather satchel, telling herself she’ll review them later even though she has zero intention of doing so. She pushes her black Ray-Bans onto her face and grabs her keys. There’s work piling up behind her, waiting, but right now she can’t bring herself to focus on any of it.
Azzi’s excitement crackles through the line exactly as expected. “That sounds perfect! I just got home, so I’ll get changed and meet you there in twenty. See you soon!”
The call ends before Paige can point out that it will absolutely take her longer than twenty minutes to get there. Not that it matters. Azzi is famously terrible with time management. If Paige had to guess, the brunette hasn’t even decided what to wear yet, and won’t even leave her apartment in twenty minutes.
Azzi’s indecision is something her teammates tease her about constantly, her inability to decide on a restaurant, her tendency to change outfits three times before settling on the first one she picked. Paige doesn’t mind. It’ll give her time to get there early, maybe order a drink or two before Azzi arrives.
Still, as she moves with purpose, packing up her laptop, slinging her bag over her shoulder, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s postponing something.
She feels drawn to Azzi in a way that’s difficult to explain. Like she could trust her with anything. In some ways, she already has. There are things she’s told Azzi that she’s never said out loud to anyone else, aside from Emma.
But there’s one subject she hasn’t touched.
She’s tried. More than once. The words have hovered on her tongue, ready, and every time she’s swallowed them back down, afraid of what they might change. Afraid of disappointing Azzi. Afraid of being less in her eyes.
It’s irrational. She knows that. And yet, the thought of telling Azzi the truth feels heavier than anything else she’s carrying.
She can’t keep it in much longer. It’s been sitting there for weeks now, festering, pressing against her ribcage like a wound that refuses to heal.
She needs to say it.
Tonight.
Tonight, she’ll tell Azzi, whether she’s ready or not.
***** *** *****
When Azzi finally arrives forty-five minutes later, Paige spots her immediately.
As usual, the brunette is effortlessly stylish in black jeans, and a fitted pink jacket over a cropped white shirt, her hair swept into a messy bun.
Paige exhales, finishing the last sip of her drink before setting the empty glass down on the bar. The space around her hums with energy, music threading through overlapping conversations, laughter spilling from clusters of young professionals unwinding after work, the steady clink of ice against glass.
Azzi weaves through the packed bar with ease, her presence commanding attention without her trying. When she reaches Paige, she grins, but Paige doesn’t miss the way those sharp brown eyes scan her face, assessing, cataloging. She knows the brunette has already clocked the slight drag in her words from earlier, the exhaustion settling deep into her bones.
“Started without me, huh?” Azzi asks, her voice warm as she pulls Paige into a quick hug.
Paige holds on a second longer than usual before letting go. “I needed it,” she admits quietly, offering a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Azzi slides onto the stool Paige fought to keep open, spending twenty minutes dodging bar-hoppers looking for a seat and smarmy men looking for an opening. She gestures toward the empty martini glass, a faint ring of condensation still marking the bar. “What are you drinking?”
Paige glances at it and waves a dismissive hand, unable to remember the trendy name scribbled on the elaborate menu. “Something with purple in the name.”
Azzi snorts. “Helpful.”
Paige pats the granite countertop, half-looking for the leather-bound drink menu that’s long since disappeared, but her attention keeps drifting back to Azzi. The brunette’s presence alters something in her.
But Azzi is studying her now. Paige can feel the weight of her gaze, focused and unflinching. There’s something different about the way Azzi is watching her tonight, and Paige feels stripped bare beneath it.
Before she can look away, Azzi reaches out and lightly taps her hand. Paige stills. Her blue eyes feel a little glassy, but there’s no denying it now. Azzi sees right through her.
“Forget about the drinks for right now,” Azzi says, quiet but firm. “What’s going on?”
The way she says it makes Paige’s throat tighten. There’s no dodging this, no easy deflection that will work. The words are already pressing against her ribs anyway, demanding release.
“I can’t do this.”
She almost hopes Azzi won’t hear her, but the brunette’s eyes widen, her expression shifting instantly from playful to serious. Paige nearly regrets opening her mouth at all, but at the same time, she knows she can’t keep swallowing it down.
“Can’t do what, Paige?” Azzi asks, concern threading through her voice.
Paige exhales sharply, dragging a hand down her face before throwing her arms out in frustration. Now that she’s said it once, everything feels heavier.
“This,” she says, gesturing vaguely, as if the word alone could encompass it all. “Work. Emma. The baby. I’m freaking out, Az. I don’t think I can do it. I don’t think I can live up to all these expectations.”
Azzi watches her for a beat, then wordlessly flags down the bartender. After a brief exchange, Azzi nods, and then the bartender nods before moving off.
Paige doesn’t ask what she ordered. She doesn’t care.
Before Paige can overthink it, Azzi grabs her hand and tugs her off the stool, guiding her through the dense crowd. The bar pulses around them, and Azzi doesn’t stop until they reach a newly vacated booth tucked into the back.
Paige slides in, inhaling deeply, hoping the extra distance from the crowd makes this easier. A moment passes before the bartender returns, setting two glasses of ice water on the table. Azzi nudges one toward her, her gaze unwavering.
“So,” Azzi says, calm and entirely too composed for Paige’s liking, “where do you want to start?”
Paige wraps her fingers around the glass but doesn’t drink. The condensation is cold against her skin, but at least it’s something solid to hold onto. Before she can answer, someone stumbles into the table, jostling her shoulder. She barely reacts, just shoots a glare before refocusing on the water. She exhales sharply and rubs a hand over her face.
Azzi frowns. “Where is all this coming from, Paige?”
“I don’t know, Az. Work has been overwhelming,” she admits, her voice tight. Saying it aloud only makes it feel more real. “They gave me a raise, which is great, but it came with a ridiculous workload. I’m working later hours, which means less time at home, and Emma… Emma is really struggling with this pregnancy. She’s sick all the time, exhausted, and I just want to be there for her, but I feel like I can’t stretch myself far enough. You know?”
Azzi nods, even though Paige knows she doesn’t fully understand. How could she? Their lives carry different kinds of weight, different struggles and expectations.
“Have you talked to work about cutting back a bit?” Azzi asks. “I know you just got promoted, but wouldn’t they understand?”
“I can’t.” Paige shakes her head immediately, her stomach twisting. “It’s a new position under a new boss, and with Emma not working, my paycheck is the only income we have right now. I’m… I’m going to have a baby in four months, Az. A whole ass baby.”
Her voice cracks. She tightens her grip on the glass
“A baby,” she repeats, softer now. “And that baby is going to need me for the rest of their life. What if I can’t do it all? What if I’m not a good mom? A good wife? What if I let both of them down?”
The words sit between them, thick and suffocating. Paige keeps her eyes on the table, afraid of what she might see in Azzi’s face if she looks up.
“Get it together, Paige,” Azzi's voice cuts through the tension between them.
Paige looks up, startled. “What?”
Azzi rolls her eyes and leans forward. “Look, I’m not… particularly good at this emotional stuff,” she says, waving her hand vaguely in the air. “But I’m going to tell you this once, and once only, so listen carefully.”
Paige nods, heart thumping with anticipation, honestly not sure about where this conversation is heading.
“You,” Azzi continues, her voice low, “are one of the best human beings I’ve ever met. You’re kind, hardworking, and loyal.”
Paige blinks, her chest cinching as the words make their way in.
“The love you share with Emma is amazing, and I know you would do anything for that woman. She knows it too. You’re not letting her down, and you never will. She thinks you hung the damn moon, Paige.”
Something shifts inside her, nothing fully fixed, but no longer splintering either.
Azzi shifts, suddenly unsure. “Do you get it now?”
Paige nods sheepishly, lowering her gaze to the sticky table as she takes a slow sip of water. She feels suddenly sober, exposed.
Azzi shifts again, clearly second-guessing herself, and Paige senses that she’s wondering if she went too far, if she should’ve softened the edges.
“Sorry if that didn’t come out right,” Azzi adds quickly. “I don’t want you to think that what you’re feeling isn’t valid. I just… don’t want you to sell yourself short.”
Paige looks up then and catches the way Azzi bites at the inside of her cheek, the faint crease between her brows, the apologetic uncertainty clouding features that are usually so sure of themselves.
Azzi is waiting. Paige can tell. Probably bracing for her to wave it off, crack a joke, minimize the whole thing like she usually does when emotions get too close to the surface.
But she doesn’t.
Instead, Paige shakes her head slowly. “No,” she says, firm and clear as she meets Azzi’s gaze. “That was exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you.”
Azzi exhales, the tension easing out of her shoulders in real time, like she’s been holding her breath and only just realized it. Paige watches her settle back against the booth, a small, satisfied smile tugging at her lips. Around them, the bar keeps moving, but for the first time tonight, Paige feels oddly still.
Maybe she really did need to hear it. Maybe Azzi is right. Paige isn’t sure she fully believes any of it yet, but the weight pressing against her chest loosens just enough to let her breathe. Not relief exactly, but maybe something close.
Azzi flags down a waiter. Paige watches him approach, slicking back already over-gelled hair and flashing a practiced grin. He’s the kind of guy who thrives in places like this—clean-cut, confident, dressed in a black button-up that fits just a little too well. His hazel eyes flick to Azzi first, hopeful, then to Paige, who meets his look with mild impatience.
“What can I get you ladies?” he asks, already sounding impressed with himself.
Paige glances at Azzi, who’s squinting at the menu like it’s written in another language. The dark leather-bound booklet is cluttered with pretentious drink names like Violet Hour and Lavender Reverie, and Paige snatches it from her hands with a soft huff. She rolls her eyes, snaps it shut, and slides it toward the bartender.
“We’ll have two of those purple drinks,” she says.
Azzi quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. The waiter nods, looking faintly deflated that the women aren’t entertaining him, and retreats to fetch their order. The silence that follows barley lasts.
Paige leans forward, resting her chin in her hand as she watches Azzi with faint amusement. “It’s delicious,” she offers. “I promise.”
Azzi eyes her suspiciously, fingers tapping against the sticky tabletop. “And you would know after having…”
“Two,” Paige replies, holding up two fingers. “I needed proper lubrication for that conversation.”
Azzi lets out a short laugh, shaking her head. The sound is warm and genuine, cutting through the ambient noise of the bar. For a moment, it feels like the world around them fades, like they’re tucked into their own small pocket of quiet.
“And why do you think you can’t confess your secrets to me soberly?” Azzi asks.
The question lingers. Paige’s gaze drifts to Azzi’s hands, noting the way her fingers trace the rim of her glass without really realizing it. There’s something heavier beneath the words that doesn’t quite match the teasing tone. Azzi tilts her head, waiting, her sharp features softened by the glow of the yellow Edison bulbs overhead.
Paige studies her for a moment, taking in the loose curl brushing Azzi’s cheek, the faint crease of concentration between her brows. “Are you always this blunt?” she asks finally.
Azzi shrugs, tucking the stray hair behind her ear. “I guess I just never understood why people hold back what they really feel,” she says, more thoughtful now. “Enough of my time has been wasted by people who can’t be honest. I don’t need those kinds of people in my life.”
The words slice through the haze of noise around them. Paige catches the subtle shift, the way Azzi’s jaw tightens, the faint whitening of her fingers around the glass. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s there.
For someone who prides herself on honesty, Azzi is holding something back.
Paige sees it clearly, recognizing the contradiction for what it is. For a fleeting moment, she considers pressing, asking the question hovering on the tip of her tongue. She doesn’t, though. Not yet. As close as they’ve grown, this is a door Azzi doesn’t seem ready to open and Paige isn’t in the mood to try and kick it down.
Paige leans back against the booth, letting the moment pass as she tucks her hands behind her head. “True,” she says lightly.
Azzi’s shoulders relax, and she offers a faint smile, seemingly relieved the subject isn’t being pushed.
“So,” Paige says, shifting gears, tilting her head. “Got any plans this weekend?”
Azzi nods, taking a sip before setting her glass down. “I’ve got a game Saturday, and then I’m going out with my teammates. Some friends are coming into town, too. You and Emma should come! I could get you guys free tickets.”
Paige smiles, imagining Azzi on the field, focused, and relentless with that same sharp intensity she carries everywhere.
“Let me talk to Emma, and I’ll let you know, okay?”
“Of course,” Azzi grins. Then, with a teasing glint, adds, “Speaking of Emma, we should get you home for dinner.”
A loud crash interrupts them. Paige looks past Azzi just in time to see a tray shatter, glass and silverware scattering across the floor. The server scrambles, red-faced, and the moment breaks whatever tension remained.
By the time Paige turns back, Azzi is already standing, tipping back the last of her drink before setting the glass down decisively. She heads over to help, and Paige considers following before deciding she probably shouldn’t attempt walking right now.
A minute later, Azzi returns, once again reminding her about dinner.
“Emma hasn’t been making dinner,” Paige mutters. “All the smells make her sick. I’ve had to cook, which I think might make her even sicker.”
Azzi slides a fifty onto the table with a laugh. “Well, remind me not to come over until after she has the baby.” Then, more pointedly, “Now let’s get you home. You’re not driving.”
Paige rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue as Azzi pulls her up. Outside, the crisp early evening air hits her lungs, refreshing after the heavy warmth of the bar. Her breath fogs faintly as she exhales.
Azzi fumbles through her purse for keys, muttering under her breath. Paige watches her with quiet amusement. When Azzi finally turns back, she places a steadying hand on Paige’s back, guiding her toward the car. Paige doesn’t protest. She probably needs the extra support after three cocktails consumed in rapid succession.
The drive is quiet but comfortable. City lights streak past the windows as Paige rests her head back, thoughts calmer now, the storm inside her finally easing.
When they pull up to the house, Paige pauses with her hand on the door when Azzi leaves the car running. “Aren’t you coming in to say hi?”
Azzi shakes her head gently. “You two need some alone time. Talk to her. Be honest. She loves you.”
Paige holds her gaze, believing her, at least for this moment.
“Go,” Azzi urges, tapping her thigh.
Paige steps out, then turns back. “You’re a great friend, Az,” she says quietly. “Thank you for tonight.”
Azzi’s cheeks turn pink, her confidence giving way to something softer. “I’ll always be here for you, Paige,” she says. “For both of you.”
Paige nods, smiling as she heads toward the house, lighter than she’s felt in weeks.
synopsis: sometimes love is waiting patiently at the end of a road you never planned to travel. and the person who helps you survive your darkest days becomes the reason you start looking forward to brighter ones.
cw: none
wc: 3k
chapter seven:
The smell of fresh-cut grass is something Azzi lives for. As ridiculous as it sounds, she’s often wished she could bottle it up and carry it around with her like some kind of talisman. There’s something about the scent that settles her in a way few things can. It takes her back to chasing her brothers through their one-acre backyard in Arlington, to climbing into the treehouse tucked into the giant maple at the edge of the property; her refuge whenever she was angry at the world, her coach, or her parents.
But more than anything, it reminds her of soccer.
Of real grass. Of a real pitch. Of the version of herself that exists only there.
On the field, Azzi doesn’t have to be anything else. She isn’t a daughter, or an ex, or a woman trying to stitch herself back together. She’s just an athlete. Soccer was her first love, the only one that never asked her to be smaller or softer or different. And unlike the other love stories in her life, this one will end well. It has to. The injuries, sacrifices, and disappointments have only sharpened her resolve. She’ll get her happy ending.
She’s earned it. And she’s never been afraid of a fight.
“You’re in a good mood today, Fudd,” Coach Mercer remarks, watching her shove soccer balls into a netted bag.
It’s a job usually handed to rookies or assistants, but Azzi doesn’t mind doing the unglamorous work. It keeps her moving and her head clear.
“It’s a beautiful day, Coach,” she replies, contentment softening her features as she cinches the drawstring tight.
John pauses, one brow lifting as he watches her tilt her face toward the sun, eyes closed, soaking in the warmth like it might disappear without warning. And in Virginia in the spring, it just might.
Then he shrugs. “Whatever you say,” he says, slipping off his cleats and dropping onto the metal bench.
He’s nearly finished lacing his trainers when movement catches his eye. Someone’s approaching the field, a notebook tucked under their arm.
John brightens immediately, grin widening. He pushes to his feet, brushing grass from his shorts as the woman draws closer. She’s focused on the space around her, lips pressed together as she takes in the modest stadium. If it can even be called that. Five thousand seats, maybe.
“Welcome,” he says, extending a hand. “John Mercer. Head coach of the Spirit. We’re excited to work with your firm.”
“Happy to be here,” the woman replies, returning the handshake easily.
Azzi’s head whips up.
That voice.
She hasn’t heard it since dinner weeks ago, but it’s been lodged in her memory ever since. Her pulse stutters as she pushes herself up from where she’d been kneeling, stepping beside her coach without registering that she’s still in nothing but a sports bra and training shorts. Sweat slicks her skin, catching the sunlight, but she doesn’t notice until it’s already too late.
“Paige?” Azzi blurts.
Paige stands beside John with purpose, wind tugging loose strands from her low bun. Her shoes sink slightly into the turf, but she looks confident. That is, until her eyes meet Azzi’s. Recognition flickers, followed quickly by surprise. Her gaze sweeps Azzi’s still-damp skin, the hard-earned definition of her frame, the dark wisps of hair clinging to her forehead.
Azzi shifts, suddenly hyper-aware of herself. The breeze does nothing to cool the heat creeping up her neck. This is ridiculous. Paige has a wife. There’s nothing here. Nothing to feel guilty about. They’re professionals.
“Azzi?” Paige says, her voice far less steady than her posture suggests.
“I guess not,” Paige admits, a smirk threatening at the corner of her mouth.
She keeps her gaze firmly above Azzi’s shoulders, though it seems like maybe it takes effort.
“It’s nice to see you again,” Paige says.
Azzi nods, goosebumps rippling across her arms as the breeze shifts again. She clears her throat. “Uh… let me grab a shirt.”
She turns quickly, rummaging through her bag and yanking out a clean white shirt with the Spirit logo stretched across the chest. As she pulls it on, she scolds herself silently.
Get it together, Fudd.
When she turns back, Paige is watching her, expression unreadable. Azzi forces her focus to the notebook tucked under Paige’s arm. Anything but her eyes because she’s afraid of what she’ll find.
“So,” Azzi says, steadying herself, “you’re the consultant I’m meeting with today?”
“Yes,” Paige nods. “I’m here on behalf of Renley & Associates to talk about stadium design.”
Azzi lifts a brow. “Big project.”
Paige chuckles softly. “You could say that.”
John glances at his watch. “She’s the architect you’ll be working with on locker rooms, player facilities, aesthetics. All the important stuff.” He turns to Azzi. “I’ve gotta run. Can you show her around?”
Azzi inhales deeply, letting the scent of grass anchor her. “Of course.”
“Tell Lily I said hi,” Azzi adds.
“Will do,” Coach Mercer calls over his shoulder, jogging toward the parking lot.
Silence settles between them.
Azzi’s gaze drifts toward the park beyond the field, sprinklers misting the grass as if fighting a losing battle against the coming summer. When she looks back, Paige is clutching her notebook like a lifeline.
The sight irritates her more than it should.
She knows it’s unfair. Paige doesn’t owe her anything. She’s married. Busy. Living a life Azzi has no claim to. It still nags at her that after Munich, after dinner, after that night, there was nothing. No text. No acknowledgment. Not even a polite follow-up.
Azzi had waited. Not for anything dramatic, just a simple text. But if Azzi has learned anything in life, it’s that she doesn’t chase people.
So yeah, she’s a little irked. It’s the second time Paige didn’t reach out, and Azzi doesn’t love the way that realization sits in her chest.
Paige shifts on her feet, studying her for a moment before breaking the silence with a light chuckle. “So, I guess at dinner you forgot to mention that you play for the Washington Spirit now.”
Azzi’s attention drifts briefly to a group of kids shrieking as they sprint through the misting sprinklers along the edge of the adjacent park. Their laughter carries across the field, loud and carefree. Then she looks back at Paige.
Blue eyes meet brown, and just like that, the small resentment she’s been holding cracks.
Paige stands there in fitted khakis that hit just above her ankles, a loose navy button-up rolled neatly at the elbows. The look is effortless and put-together without trying too hard. The casual smirk at her lips doesn’t help, either.
Damn it.
Azzi folds her arms, refusing to let her expression soften too much.
“Yeah,” she says, even. “And I guess you forgot to mention that you’re designing the new stadium for the Washington Spirit.”
Paige laughs. The sound hits Azzi like a warm gust of summer air and it’s annoyingly disarming.
“I actually just found out this week that I was on this job.”
Azzi lifts a brow. “Maybe if you’d reached out sometime, I would’ve known.”
The edge in her voice surprises even her. She doesn’t walk it back, though.
Paige stiffens. It’s subtle, the shift in her posture, the way her breath catches for half a second, but Azzi notices.
Good.
For a brief, fleeting moment, she considers softening it. She doesn’t though.
Paige rubs the back of her neck, searching. “I… uh…” She exhales. “I thought phones worked both ways?”
The words land awkwardly and Paige seems to realize it immediately.
Azzi huffs. “Really?”
The irritation lingers between them, thick and undefined. Then Paige smiles a stupid, lopsided grin, and the tension eases just enough to keep it from tipping into something worse.
Azzi sighs and steps closer, resting her hand lightly against Paige’s forearm. She waits until Paige looks at her.
“Let’s just pretend the last five minutes didn’t happen,” Azzi says.
Paige exhales, nodding. “Yeah. Whatever the fuck that was… let’s forget it.”
Azzi chuckles, and Paige visibly relaxes, her grip loosening on the portfolio clutched against her side.
After a beat, Paige adds quietly, “I am sorry, though. I should’ve reached out. I just… wasn’t sure.”
Azzi watches her, waiting. But Paige trails off, words left unfinished.
Azzi doesn’t push. She nods instead. “I get it.”
Paige studies her like she’s recalibrating something. Azzi wonders what she sees. Probably not the version of her that laughed easily over dinner, teasing Emma, pretending she wasn’t carrying anything heavy.
That version does exist, but not all the time.
This other version exists too. The defender who throws herself into tackles without hesitation. The woman who rebuilt herself piece by piece after everything fell apart.
“I really did enjoy dinner,” Azzi says evenly. “With both you and Emma.”
Paige opens her mouth, but Azzi lifts a hand. She glances toward the open stretch of green, collecting herself before finishing.
“I’ve been on the wrong side of something ugly before,” she says. “I wouldn’t put someone else in that situation. That’s not who I am.”
Paige meets her gaze, and something settles between them. Azzi can’t name it, but it’s there. She wonders if Paige feels it too.
After a moment, Paige swallows. Then she exhales, shaking her head. “No, Azzi. I was wrong. I hate that I even thought that. I’m sorry.”
Azzi holds her gaze, then lets a slow, teasing smile curve her mouth. She extends her hand.
“Friends?”
Paige blinks, then smiles and takes it.
Azzi squeezes her hand once before letting go. The wind shifts, stirring the short blades of grass beneath their feet.
She inhales deeply, the scent of the pitch grounding her again. When she looks back at Paige, there’s no hesitation this time.
“Friends,” Azzi confirms.
***** *** *****
“Sorry I’m late,” Paige says as she slides into the seat across from Azzi, setting her phone aside and placing her blue spiral notebook neatly on the table.
She’s only five minutes behind, basically early by her standards, but she still feels the faint tug of guilt when she notices Azzi’s been waiting. Whether it’s the remnants of German punctuality or years of professional discipline, Azzi has arrived first every single time they’ve met up.
Paige feels Azzi’s eyes on her as she taps the corner of her notebook against the tabletop, nudging it until it sits perfectly parallel to the edge. She does the same with her phone, adjusting it by a fraction of an inch. Paige doesn’t consciously think about it anymore. Order before chaos, or rather, organized chaos, if she’s being honest. It’s worked for her this long.
“It’s okay. Do you need a few minutes to look at the menu?”
Paige lifts a brow, lips quirking. “Bro, we’re at Panera. They have these in California, you know.”
Azzi presses a hand to her chest, feigning offense. “You don’t have to be mean about it.”
Paige throws up her hands, laughing as they stand. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be showing me around D.C. I guess Panera is the city’s new national treasure, huh?”
Azzi shoots her a look just as a middle-aged cashier steps forward with a practiced smile.
“Alright, bro,” Azzi mutters playfully. “What do you want?”
Paige scans the menu, taking her time, acutely aware of Azzi watching her. She’s clearly already decided, and sure enough, Azzi orders without hesitation. Despite the teasing, Paige caves under the pressure.
“Make it two,” she says, pulling her wallet from her back pocket.
Before she can hand over her card, Azzi knocks her hand away and slides her own across the counter.
Paige tucks her card back in her wallet. “Thanks.”
She doesn’t argue because there’s no need, and she knows Azzi would fight her on it anyway. They’re both competitive like that. Besides, Paige covered last time, so this just evens it out.
They settle back into their booth to wait, the noise of the restaurant buzzing faintly in the background. The weekly lunches that started as a work obligation since Coach Mercer paired them up, has quietly turned into something Paige looks forward to. They text now. They’ve done dinner at the house again. Azzi even promised she’d cook for them once she finally gets her shit together and moves out of her parent’s house.
“How’s Emma?”
The sincerity in Azzi’s voice softens something in Paige’s chest. She’s relieved she didn’t write this friendship off, that she trusted her instincts for once.
“She’s struggling,” Paige admits, running a hand through her wavy hair. “Morning sickness is getting worse.”
Azzi makes a face. “Poor thing.”
Paige nods, her thoughts drifting home… to the dim kitchen light in the early mornings, to Emma curled over the toilet with one hand braced against the seat, the other pressed to her stomach like it might steady the nausea. Watching her go through this has made Paige seriously reconsider her once-confident declaration that she’d carry the second kid someday. She’d said it easily back then, like a promise she could make without consequence. Now, seeing how relentless it’s been, how small Emma looks when the sickness hits, the idea feels heavier. Less theoretical. More real.
Before that weight can settle fully, an aggressive buzzing rattles the table. Paige jolts, her heart leaping straight into her throat before she realizes it’s just the table buzzer vibrating violently against the wood.
“Jesus,” she mutters, clutching her chest as her pulse slowly comes back down.
Azzi bursts out laughing. “You are way too jumpy.”
She slides out of the booth and grabs both trays, weaving through the crowd with an ease Paige can’t help but notice. When Azzi returns, she drops them onto the table with a thud.
Paige lifts a brow.
“These trays are heavy,” Azzi mutters before tearing into her baguette.
Paige smirks, picking up her sandwich. “Aren’t you supposed to be strong or something? Or do female soccer players not need arm strength?”
Azzi stiffens, and Paige clocks her tightened grip and rigid shoulders instantly.
Oh. Shit.
Then Azzi catches the glint in her eye and a barely-contained smile. She narrows her eyes, pointing her spoon. “Watch it, Bueckers. Keep it up and I’ll tell Emma you skipped ahead on The Summer I Turned Pretty when she fell asleep.”
Paige freezes, sandwich midway to her mouth. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Azzi chews slowly, clearly savoring it.
It’s the cardinal rule in Paige and Emma’s marriage, right behind honesty and mutual respect and all that other important stuff: never skip ahead on shows.
Azzi shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Paige reacts fast, the words tumbling out before she can overthink them, before Azzi can follow through on the threat hanging between them. “If you tell her, I won’t tell you the ultrasound results later today.”
The effect is immediate.
Azzi goes completely still, like someone hit pause on her mid-motion. The half-lifted sandwich slips from her fingers and drops back onto the tray, and filling spills out onto the paper liner. She doesn’t seem to notice. Her eyes are wide now, fixed on Paige, shock and something dangerously close to delight flashing across her face.
“I better be your first text.”
Paige laughs, shaking her head as if the idea is absurd, even as warmth spreads through her chest at how much Azzi clearly cares. “Why would I text you before my own family?”
Azzi rebuilds the sandwich without much concern for its structural integrity just lumping everything together between the slices of crispy ciabatta. “You should definitely text your best friend first.”
“Nine,” Azzi corrects, even though Piage knows she’s just throwing out a number. “And since we’re both stuck in D.C. for the foreseeable future, we’re going to be best friends. Get used to it.”
Paige leans in, resting her forearms on the table. “Did you just tell me I have to be your best friend?”
Azzi doesn’t even hesitate. She nods solemnly, like this is a binding agreement etched in stone, and reaches across the table to steal a kettle chip from Paige’s tray. The casual confidence of it, like she’s done this a hundred times already, makes Paige shake her head.
She exhales through her nose, resigned. “I’ll text you first under two conditions.”
Azzi straightens immediately, eyes lighting up, as she pops the chip into her mouth.
“You never tell Emma about me watching ahead,” Paige says, ticking the first condition off with a finger. “And you never tell anyone I told you first.”
Azzi doesn’t pause to negotiate. She crosses her heart with exaggerated sincerity. “I’ll take your secrets to the grave.”
Paige shakes her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her mouth. Somewhere along the way, quietly, and without ceremony, Azzi has slipped into her routine. Into her days, her jokes, the mental list of people she thinks to text without even realizing she’s doing it.
Paige didn’t plan for it. But sitting here now, she also doesn’t want to undo it.
***** *** *****
A few hours later, Azzi is curled up under a pile of blankets on her childhood bed, the room lit only by the muted glow of her phone and Scandal playing on the tv sitting on her dresser. A half-empty bowl of popcorn rests against her hip, kernels scattered across the comforter because she stopped caring halfway through.
Her phone buzzes once.
She sits up, scrambling for it, knocking aside pillows as if it might disappear if she doesn’t grab it fast enough.
Her heart thumps in anticipation and the screen lights up.
Paige: Hey best friend!
Azzi grins, the smile pulling at her cheeks as a second message comes through almost immediately, almost like Paige couldn’t wait either.
Chapter seven: I can’t tell you how much I love you because I do not know myself.
Catholic!paige x rebellious!Azzi, catholic boarding school au
Warnings: light angst
A/n: short but sweet chapter well I’m on my roadtrip! I love you guys and I hope you love this! Let me know what you think!!! 🩷
Word count: 7.9k
Somewhere around three in the morning, Azzi’s eyes flicked open. The raw, burning ache in her chest had dulled to numbness, but sleep had been restless and shallow. She lay still for a moment, staring at the wall, before she finally rolled over onto her other side, intending to just close her eyes again.
Instead, her breath caught in her throat.
There, crumpled on the floor right beside her mattress, was Paige. She was still shivering slightly in the chill of the room, her knees pulled tight to her chest and her face hidden in her arms. Her cheeks were pale and stained with the tracks of dried tears, her breath hitching every few seconds in her sleep, a leftover reflex from hours of sobbing.
Azzi froze, her heart hammering against her ribs. The anger she had carried earlier instantly cracked, melting away at the sight of Paige looking so small. Paige had actually stayed there. She hadn't gone back to the comfort of her own bed; she had chosen to sleep on the hardwood just to be close to her.
Moving quietly, Azzi slid out from under her covers. The floorboards creaked softly under her weight.
Azzi reached onto her bed, grabbing her pillow and the blanket she was using. She sank down onto the floor beside Paige, the cold of the wood biting through her t-shirt, but she barely felt it.
With agonizing care, Azzi slipped one arm under Paige’s shoulders and the other beneath her knees. She lifted her just enough to slide the pillow directly under her head, easing her back down with a gentleness that contradicted every harsh word they had thrown at each other hours before.
Paige let out a soft, whimpering sigh in her sleep, her body instinctively shifting toward Azzi’s warmth, but she didn't open her eyes.
Azzi’s throat tightened, a single, stray tear slipping down her cheek as she got the blanket. She draped it over Paige’s shaking shoulders, tucking the edges securely around her feet and pulling it all the way up to her chin until Paige was completely insulated from the cold room. For a long, quiet moment, Azzi just stayed on her knees, her hand hovering an inch above Paige’s tangled hair, wanting so desperately to trace her cheek but forcing herself to hold back.
She still didn't know how they were going to fix this. The words Paige had said still sat in her chest. But as Azzi quietly sat on the hard floorboards right next to her, facing Paige in the dark, she knew one thing for certain: she couldn't let Paige freeze alone in the dark.
—
Paige slowly blinked her eyes open. Her eyelids felt heavy, raw, and painfully swollen. For a disorienting second, she didn’t understand why the ceiling looked so high, or why her back felt so stiff.
Then she shifted, and the reality of the previous night crashed down on her.
She wasn't in her own bed. She was still on the floor next to Azzi's. But the freezing chill of the hardwood was gone, replaced by a radiating warmth. Paige looked down and realized she was completely wrapped up in Azzi’s favorite blanket, tucked perfectly up to her chin, with Azzi’s pillow cushioning her head.
Her breath hitched. She glanced up toward the mattress.
Azzi was asleep on her bed, curled onto her side. She had given up her own pillow and her blanket, leaving herself with just the thin top sheet, sleeping heavily from sheer exhaustion. Even in sleep, her face looked tired, the faint lines of stress still etched into her features.
A fresh, hot wave of tears immediately flooded Paige's eyes, blurring her vision. She tightly clamped her hand over her mouth, desperately trying to stifle the ragged sob that built up in her chest. She didn't want to wake Azzi up, but the sheer emotional weight of what she was looking at was completely overwhelming.
She’s so soft, Paige thought, a tear spilling over her cheek and soaking into the pillowcase. She is so sweet, and I hurt her.
The guilt was twisting her stomach into knots. After everything Paige had weaponized against her; after screaming that she didn’t owe her anything, after throwing her deepest insecurities in her face, this was how Azzi responded. Azzi couldn't even leave her to sleep on the floor. Even when her heart was completely shattered, Azzi's instinctive reaction in the middle of the night was still to protect her. To take care of her.
Paige let out a tiny, trembling whimper, her whole body shaking beneath the blanket. She felt entirely undeserving of the warmth surrounding her.
—
A soft rustle of sheets broke the morning quiet. Paige quickly wiped at her eyes, trying to stifle her sniffles, but it was too late. Up on the mattress, Azzi shifted, blinking against the light before her gaze dropped down to the floor.
For a long moment, Azzi just looked at her, the exhaustion still heavy in her eyes. There was no anger left in her expression, just weariness.
"Come here," Azzi whispered, her voice rough from sleep. She patted the mattress beside her. "Come sit with me."
Paige's heart practically stopped. She scrambled to her feet instantly, her limbs stiff and clumsy from hours on the hardwood. Desperate to be useful, she frantically gathered the blanket and the pillow into her arms, clutching them to her chest like a shield.
"I'm sorry," Paige choked out, the tears starting all over again as she held the bedding out like an offering. "I'm so, so sorry, Azzi. I didn't mean to take your things, and I'm sorry I woke you up, and I'm just so sorry for—"
"Paige. Stop," Azzi cut her off softly. It wasn't a mean command, just tired. She reached out, took the pillow and blanket from Paige's trembling hands, and tossed them on bed. Then, she caught Paige by the wrist and gently pulled her down until Paige was sitting on the edge of the mattress.
The moment Paige was within reach, Azzi’s demeanor shifted into something intensely focused. She didn't bring up the argument. Instead, her hands moved to Paige’s shoulders, pressing firmly against the muscles, then down to her lower back.
"Are you sore?" Azzi demanded, her brow furrowing into a stern, worried scowl. "Does your back hurt? Your neck?"
"Azzi, I'm fine, I don't—"
"Don't tell me you're fine, Paige, you slept on the floor for six hours," Azzi lectured, her voice taking on a familiar, bossy edge that made Paige’s chest ache with guilt. Azzi squeezed her shoulder blades, checking for knots.
"You're already shivering. What were you thinking? If you were going to stay up, you should have at least taken the desk chair."
Paige just sat there, completely frozen under the touch of Azzi’s hands. The gentle friction of Azzi’s palms trying to rub the chill out of her arms was almost too much to bear.
"I'm sorry," Paige whispered again, her shoulders dropping as she stared down at her own lap, a fresh tear dropping onto her pajamas. "I just... I didn't want to leave you."
Azzi’s hands paused on Paige’s shoulders, the friction stopping as her fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of Paige's pajamas. The lecture dying in her throat.
She let out a long, ragged breath, her head dropping forward for a second before she looked up, her eyes dark and completely raw.
"I am so angry with you," Azzi whispered. Her voice wasn't loud, and it wasn't harsh like it had been the night before, but the weight of her hurt vibrated through every syllable.
For Paige, hearing Azzi finally acknowledge the anger without shutting down made her lean in just a fraction more, her bottom lip trembling violently.
"I know," Paige choked out, fresh tears instantly blurring her vision and spilling over her cheeks. She didn't try to defend herself, didn't offer any excuses. "I know you are. I'm so sorry, Azzi. I'm so, so sorry."
Paige swallowed hard, the knot in her throat tasting like copper and tears. She needed to say this; not to absolve herself, but because the thought of Azzi picturing her happily moving on with Liam during break was tearing her apart from the inside out.
"I was so uncomfortable the entire time I was there," Paige spoke up, her voice cracking as she forced the words past a ragged breath. She looked directly into Azzi's eyes, her own raw and begging for her to understand. "I barely even spoke to him. I made him leave early because I couldn't stand being near him. And the second I got home, I yelled at my mom for the first time ever, and I just locked myself in my room and cried for hours."
A breathless sob escaped her, and Paige quickly wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, her shoulders shaking.
"I cried because the whole time all I could think about was you," Paige wept, her voice dropping into a desperate whisper. "I knew how badly it was going to hurt you when you found out. I knew what it would do to us.“
She reached out, her fingers hovering just over the edge of Azzi's sleeve, too terrified to actually make contact but needing to be close.
"It’s not an excuse," Paige added hurriedly. "I know it isn't, and it definitely doesn't change the things I said to you yesterday. But I just... I need you to know that I hated every second of it. I hated being away from you, and I am so, so sorry."
Paige’s voice dropped even lower, breaking completely as she laid her heart entirely bare on the edge of the mattress.
"I know I’m not always good to you," Paige sobbed, her hands gripping her own knees so tightly her knuckles turned white. "I know I'm not. All you ever do is give, and give, and give to me. You protect me, you hide me, you take care of me... and I just take it."
She looked up at Azzi through a thick blur of tears, her face twisted in absolute, agonizing regret.
"I know I don’t deserve you," Paige whispered, a ragged breath shuddering through her chest. "You deserve someone who doesn’t view this as shameful, someone who doesn't panic and scream horrible things at you just because she's scared. I need to be better."
Leaning forward just a fraction, her eyes practically begging, Paige let all of her remaining defenses crumble.
"And I will be," Paige pleaded, her voice cracking violently on the words. "I’ll be everything you need me to be. I will fix this... if you're willing to give me another chance. Please. Just one more chance."
Azzi sat perfectly still, her eyes tracking the trembling movement of Paige’s hands, then the tears staining her cheeks. The barrier she had built around herself finally began to crack, her shoulders dropping as the anger gave way to an exhausting sadness. Hearing how miserable Paige had been, and hearing how she had finally stood up to her mother, completely shifted something inside Azzi.
Slowly, Azzi let out a long, shaky breath. She didn't pull away from Paige's hovering fingers. Instead, she looked up, her own eyes glassy with unshed tears.
"I'm sorry too," Azzi whispered, her voice soft.
"I'm so sorry for cursing at you, and for yelling at you like that yesterday," Azzi murmured, her bottom lip quivering slightly. "I didn't even give you a chance to tell me the full story. I just... the second you mentioned it, I got so terrified. But I shouldn't have shut you down so quickly."
Azzi looked down at her own lap, a shadow of regret crossing her face as she swallowed hard.
"I know I can be mean to other people," Azzi admitted, her voice dropping to a vulnerable whisper. "When I get hurt, I lash out and I shut down. But I don't ever want to treat you that way. You shouldn't have to deal with that."
Paige reached out with absolute gentleness, her fingers sliding softly over the back of Azzi’s hands before moving up to rest on Azzi's tense, rigid shoulders. A small, incredibly sweet smile touched Paige's lips, her expression turning completely calm and reassuring as she quietly shut the apology down. In Paige’s mind, the guilt was entirely her own to carry, but right now, she just wanted to soothe the girl in front of her.
"No, sweet girl, it’s okay," Paige murmured, her voice low and soothing. She began to knead the muscles at the base of Azzi's neck, her thumbs pressing into the knots of built-up stress. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."
To Paige, her own behavior was the only real mistake, and Azzi's anger made perfect sense.
"You were just reacting to an awful situation," Paige explained softly, her hands continuing their gentle, rhythmic pressure against Azzi's shoulders. "You didn't do anything wrong, okay? I promise."
Paige leaned a fraction closer, her touch softening even more as she stroked the sides of Azzi's neck. "Let me give you a massage, okay? Just lay down and let me take care of you for a little bit. You don't have to worry about anything else right now."
Azzi didn’t say anything. She didn't say yes, but she didn’t say no either. For a long, agonizing moment, she just sat there, staring at her own lap. Then, slowly, she shifted. She turned away from Paige and lowered herself onto her stomach, burying her face into her arms against the mattress.
Paige took a breath, her heart pounding with a mix of relief and reverence. Moving carefully so she wouldn't startle her, Paige crawled further onto the bed, positioning herself so she was straddling Azzi’s thighs, keeping her weight light and grounded.
When she first placed her hands on Azzi’s back, she felt a violent flinch run through Azzi’s spine. Paige froze, holding her breath, waiting to be told to get off. But after a second, Azzi let out a ragged breath and melted back down into the sheets.
Paige began to move her hands. Azzi’s shoulders were so stiff. The muscles along her shoulder blades and the back of her neck were tightly wound, practically vibrating with the leftover tension of a night spent crying and a morning spent sleeping without a pillow. Paige dug her thumbs into the base of Azzi’s neck, using a slow, steady, circular motion.
Paige poured everything she had into her hands. Every ounce of her regret, every bit of her love, and every silent prayer for forgiveness was pushed into the muscles of Azzi's back. She smoothed her palms down the length of Azzi's spine, applying just enough pressure to soothe, then worked her way back up to the base of her skull, gently massaging the tight skin there.
As the minutes stretched on, the line of Azzi’s shoulders finally began to drop. Her breathing slowed, becoming deeper and less guarded.
"Azzi?" Paige murmured, her voice dropping to a soft, reverent whisper in the room. She didn't stop the steady movement of her hands, her thumbs tracing the curve of Azzi's shoulder blades. "I just... I want you to know something."
Azzi didn't move or give any sign that she was listening, but Paige kept going, needing to lay it all out.
"This isn't me assuming anything," Paige whispered, a soft, bittersweet smile touching her lips even as her eyes welled up again. "I’m not doing this because I think it fixes what I did, or because I'm expecting you to just want me back. I know you're still hurt, and you have every right to be."
She moved her hands lower, using the heels of her palms to rub steady circles into the small of Azzi’s back, feeling the warmth of Azzi's body seeping into her skin.
"I just wanted to say thank you," Paige choked out softly, a single tear escaping and landing harmlessly on the mattress beside Azzi’s head. "Thank you for letting me do this. Thank you for letting me care for you for a minute, and... thank you for just letting me be close to you. Thank you for being so good to me last night even when you were mad."
Underneath her hands, Paige felt Azzi let out a long, trembling breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob, but she didn't pull away. She stayed completely still, letting Paige continue to rub the ache out of her body.
—
Azzi’s voice was so muffled by the mattress Paige almost missed it. "I don't want to go to class," she muttered, the words sounding small and completely defeated.
Paige didn’t hesitate. "Then we aren't going," she said immediately, her voice dripping with a soft, protective sweetness. She smoothed her hands one last time down Azzi’s back before gently sliding off her. "We have that one unexcused day the school gives us every year. We're using it today. Both of us."
Azzi didn't move, still face down in the sheets, looking so uncharacteristically small. The girl from yesterday and this morning had completely vanished, replaced by someone in a state of pure, hollowed-out exhaustion. She was so emotionally fried from the screaming, the crying, and the heartbreak that she simply didn't have the energy to do anything right now. She just wanted to be taken care of.
Slowly, Azzi rolled her head to the side, her eyes blinking open, looking up at Paige with a completely vacant, vulnerable expression.
"Can we take a bath?" Azzi whispered.
"Of course we can, Az," Paige said softly, her heart aching with tenderness. She leaned down, gently brushing a stray curl away from Azzi's forehead. "I'll go get it ready."
Paige moved around the room with purpose, eager to do absolutely everything for Azzi so she wouldn't have to lift a finger. She walked over to the dresser, pulling out two bathing suits so they could sit in the tub together comfortably, and then gathered up two pairs of sweatshirts and sweatpants.
Carrying the clothes under her arm, Paige stepped into their small attached bathroom. She knelt by the side of the tub, plugging the drain and turning the brass handles. She adjusted the temperature until the water was a perfect, steaming, soothing heat, the steam quickly rising and warming the chilly bathroom air.
As the tub began to fill, Paige walked back out to the bedroom, kneeling down right next to the edge of the mattress where Azzi was still waiting, watching her with tired eyes.
"Water's running, Az," Paige said, her voice a gentle, reassuring hum. "I've got our suits and warm clothes ready."
Paige stepped into the water first, sitting down at the far end of the tub and settling herself comfortably against the porcelain backrest. Then, stretching her legs out, she reached up and gently caught Azzi by the waist.
"Come here," Paige murmured, her voice soft and steady.
Azzi lowered herself into the warm water with a quiet, shaky sigh, letting Paige guide her back until she was resting completely against Paige's front. The contrast of the hot water against their skin immediately made Azzi’s shoulders drop, her entire spine going wonderfully lax as she melted into Paige’s embrace. Without a word, Azzi let her head fall back, her cheek settling perfectly into the crook of Paige’s shoulder, her eyes closing as the heat washed over them.
Paige wrapped her arms securely around Azzi's waist, pulling her flush against her chest.
Slowly, Paige brought her hands to Azzi’s stomach. She began to rub steady, soothing circles into the soft skin, her palms moving with a gentle, grounding rhythm that seemed to sync with Azzi’s slow, deep breaths. Azzi let out a tiny, contented hum against Paige’s neck, her fingers loosely resting over the edge of the tub.
From Azzi's stomach, Paige slid her hands outward, tracing the curve of her waist and the sensitive skin of her sides, applying just enough pressure to massage away the residual tension from the night.
Paige then reached down, her palms smoothing down the outside of Azzi’s thighs and legs beneath the warm water. She worked her way down to Azzi's knees and back up again in long, fluid strokes.
With every movement of Paige's hands, she could feel the last lingering fractures of the night's defense mechanisms completely dissolving out of Azzi's body. Azzi just lay there, trusting Paige entirely to hold her up and keep the rest of the world away.
Paige kept her arms wrapped securely around Azzi, her chin resting lightly against the top of Azzi’s head as her hands continued their slow, soothing strokes over the sides of Azzi's waist.
"Azzi," Paige whispered softly, her breath stirring the stray hairs near Azzi’s ear.
Azzi didn't open her eyes, but her breathing hitched slightly, a quiet signal that she was listening.
"You are everything to me," Paige said, her voice dropping into a soft, tentative murmur. "You mean the absolute world to me, Az. I adore you."
She shifted slightly, her movements careful as she tightened her embrace just a fraction, pressing her front against Azzi's back to offer her warmth.
"And... I need you to hear me on this," Paige continued, her voice trembling slightly with a quiet, fragile sincerity. "I swear to you, none of that engagement stuff with Liam or anyone else my parents try and throw at me is going to happen. I'm not going to let it. I'll be right here with you."
For a second, the room was completely still. Then, Paige felt a sudden, sharp tremor ripple through Azzi's shoulders.
A tiny, broken sound escaped Azzi’s throat, and then the dam broke. Tears began to spill rapidly from her closed eyes, tracking down her cheeks and mixing with the warm bathwater. Her chest heaved as she started to cry, the quiet, exhausted kind of sobbing that came from deep inside her soul. She didn't try to hide it or pull away; she just let her head sink heavier against Paige’s shoulder, her whole body shaking under the weight of a relief she had been too terrified to hope for.
"I've got you," Paige whispered down into her hair, her own eyes filling with tears as she held Azzi tighter, her hands rubbing soothing circles into her stomach. "I'm right here."
Azzi swallowed hard, her chest hitching one last time as she blindly reached down under the water, finding Paige’s hands and squeezing them tightly. She didn't open her eyes, but she finally forced her throat to work.
"I think..." Azzi started, her voice incredibly raw and barely louder than a whisper. She stopped, clearing her throat as a fresh wave of emotion threatened to choke the words out. "I think I try really hard to be super confident all the time. Like nothing affects me. Like I can just shrug everything off and be fine."
Paige remained perfectly still, just listening, her heart aching at the vulnerability in Azzi's tone.
"But it's not true," Azzi confessed, a bitter, self-deprecating tear slipping down her cheek. "It’s... it's kinda been drilled into me by my parents for so long. That I’m disgusting. That I'm wrong, and sick, and... and just broken for loving who I do. And normally it doesn't touch me. I don't let it. I don't believe a word they say."
Azzi’s grip on Paige’s hands tightened so hard her knuckles went white beneath the surface of the water. She let her head sink even more into the crook of Paige’s shoulder, completely exposing her throat, her posture entirely defeated.
"But then, when we had our argument yesterday..." Azzi’s voice cracked violently, the admission tearing out of her. "It kinda made me feel like maybe they were right. It made me feel like maybe I really am gross, and that I'm not deserving of love that actually stays. I just sat there thinking that there’s something wrong with me, and that no matter how hard I try, or how much I give, I'm never going to be enough to make someone choose me."
Recognizing the sharp intake of breath from Paige behind her, Azzi hurried to clarify, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush so Paige wouldn't misunderstand.
"None of those insecurities are your fault," Azzi whispered, her head shaking slightly against Paige's shoulder. "I know they aren't. It's not your fault at all. I just... I think this whole situation just brought all of those fears right back to the surface. It made me feel exactly like what my parents always said I was."
Azzi’s voice grew even weaker, the confession draining the last of her energy as she stared blankly at the tiled wall of the bathroom. The water around them felt warm, but a cold dread seemed to settle over her words.
"I am just so scared of losing you," Azzi whispered, her chest heaving as she let out a shaky, uneven breath. "When you told me everything about Liam... I genuinely thought that was it. I thought it was happening right then. I thought I was watching you walk right into the life everyone expects you to have."
She paused, a sharp, choked-back sob vibrating through her shoulders. Paige tightened her arms around Azzi's waist, burying her face in Azzi’s wet hair, but she stayed quiet, letting her speak.
"I don't want to be someone you look back on and regret," Azzi admitted, the words spilling out with a painful, fragile honesty. "I don't want to be just a phase to you, or some mistake you got out of your system before your real life started. It felt like I wasn’t valued. Like because we’re both girls, this isn't something you take seriously."
Azzi shifted slightly, her fingers restlessly tracing the water's surface, her head hanging low. "And I know being with me... it forces you to carry so much guilt and shame, and I know your family is never, ever going to accept us."
She turned her head just a fraction, her cheek pressing against Paige’s shoulder as fresh tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.
"I never want to put you in a position where you have to choose between me and your own happiness, or between me and your family. I know how much you love them, especially your siblings." Azzi wept softly, her voice breaking completely on the final thought. "I don't want to be the reason your life is hard. But you make me so happy, and the thought of you walking away because I'm not enough to stay for...I don’t really know what I’m saying, I’m just trying to say I’m scared."
Paige sat entirely frozen for a moment, the weight of Azzi's words hitting her chest like a blow. Her throat felt completely constricted, her mind racing as a wave of guilt washed over her. She had done this. Since the first day they met she had been reinforcing the idea that there was something wrong with her, something to be fixed. She thought of the first day they met, when Paige started praying for Azzi to be rid from confusion, she thought of the first time she ever yelled at Azzi, telling her she made her “sick”. She thought of all the nights Azzi watched her kneeling on the ground, praying away her feelings for her like Azzi was something to be ashamed of.
Every reassurance Paige wanted to scream felt suddenly shallow and entirely inadequate against the depth of Azzi's agony. She didn't even know how to properly respond to heartbreak this vast.
So, instead of trying to find the words to fix it, Paige simply let her own defenses drop completely. Hot, heavy tears finally spilled over her lashes, tracking down her cheeks as she tightened her arms around Azzi, pulling her as close as possible in the warm water.
"Oh, baby," Paige choked out, her voice breaking completely on the words. She buried her face into the crook of Azzi’s neck, her own chest heaving as she rocked her gently. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry, baby."
She didn't try to argue or make excuses. She didn't interrupt to defend herself. Paige just held her, pressing soft, tear-stained kisses against Azzi’s shoulder and the side of her neck, letting her hands slide back down to Azzi's stomach to rub tight, protective circles.
"I've got you," Paige whispered over and over, her voice a ragged, weeping lullaby against Azzi's skin. "Cry it out, baby. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
—
The transition out of the bathroom was quiet and tender. Paige gently dried Azzi off, helped her pull on her hoodie and sweatpants, and guided her back into the bedroom. Azzi was still moving in that slow, hazy daze of absolute exhaustion, letting Paige take the lead completely.
Paige pulled back the covers on Azzi’s bed, guiding her to lie down. As Azzi sank into the mattress, curled up on her side, Paige tucked the blanket securely around her shoulders.
Paige stood by the edge of the mattress for a moment, her fingers lightly brushing against the fabric of the blanket. She wanted nothing more than to crawl in beside her, but she remembered her promise to not assume anything, to let Azzi set the pace.
"Azzi?" Paige asked softly, her voice a gentle, tentative murmur. "Do you want me to lay with you? Or... do you need some space?"
Azzi blinked heavily, staring at the wall for a moment as she processed the question through her mental fatigue. She shifted slightly under the covers, her voice coming out as a tiny, exhausted whisper.
"I need some space," Azzi murmured quietly. Then, before Paige’s heart could sink, Azzi reached a hand out from beneath the blanket, her fingers loosely curling in the air toward Paige. "But can you lay with me in like ten minutes? Just... give me ten minutes."
A soft, bittersweet smile touched Paige’s lips, her chest swelling with a wave of gratitude.
"Yeah," Paige whispered back, leaning down to gently press her hand over Azzi's knuckles for a brief, reassuring second. "Ten minutes. I'll be right here waiting."
The ten minutes felt like an eternity, but Paige watched the clock carefully, not wanting to rush Azzi by even a second. When the time finally passed, she quietly crawled onto the mattress, moving with care so she wouldn't startle her.
Azzi didn't pull away. Instead, as Paige slid under the covers, Azzi instinctively shifted backward. Paige immediately opened her arms, pulling Azzi flush against her chest, wrapping herself completely around her.
Once they were settled, Paige brought her hand under Azzi’s hoodie, smoothing her palm flat against the warmth of Azzi’s back. She began to rub slow, soothing circles against her spine, but as she did, a tight knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach.
"Azzi?" Paige murmured into the quiet room, her voice laced with genuine worry. She stopped the movement of her hand for a second, just resting her palm flat against Azzi's back. "Do you feel okay?"
Instead of explaining or talking, Azzi just shifted. She pressed herself even closer, burrowing deep into Paige’s space until there wasn't a single inch of distance left between them. She tilted her head up slightly, her lips finding the warm skin of Paige’s neck, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss right against her pulse point.
It was quiet, entirely unprompted, and filled with a fragile kind of forgiveness that made Paige's heart ache. It was Azzi’s way of saying she was still hurt, and she was still tired, but she didn't want to be apart anymore.
Azzi leaned in closer, her lips brushing the shell of Paige’s ear.
"I love you," Azzi whispered.
The words were barely louder than a breath, raw and completely stripped of any defense. After the screaming, the cruel words from the day before, and the fear of losing each other, hearing that simple truth out loud made Paige’s chest violently tighten.
A sharp gasp caught in Paige’s throat. She squeezed her eyes shut, her jaw clenching as she fought with everything she had to keep from breaking down again. She didn't want Azzi to have to comfort her right now.
"I love you," Paige choked out, her voice cracking under the strain of holding back her tears. She wrapped her arms even tighter around Azzi, burying her face into Azzi's curls, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her. "I love you so much. I love you, I love you."
The words poured out of her in a desperate, breathless loop, a frantic prayer against Azzi's skin.
"My angel," Paige whispered, a tear finally escaping her tightly shut eyelids and soaking into Azzi’s hoodie. "I'm so sorry. I love you so much."
Azzi pulled back just enough to look at Paige, she leaned in and pressed her lips to Paige’s.
The kiss was slow, deep, and heavy with the exhaustion of everything they had survived over the last twenty-four hours. Azzi’s lips were soft and slightly trembling, tasting of salt and morning warmth, moving against Paige’s with a quiet, desperate honesty that cut right through all the residual guilt.
Paige let out a shaky, breathless whimper into the kiss, her hands instantly sliding up to cup Azzi’s face. Her thumbs traced the line of Azzi’s jaw, holding her there as if she were a dream that might dissolve if she let go.
Azzi’s hands came up too, her fingers tangling into the hair at the back of Paige’s neck, pulling her impossibly closer until the gap between them was entirely erased.
Paige gently broke the kiss, pulling away just a fraction of an inch so she could breathe. Her forehead rested against Azzi’s, her hands still trembling where they cupped Azzi’s face. The sheer grace of that kiss was almost too much for her heart to hold, and the tears she had been fighting so hard to suppress finally overflowed, spilling freely down her cheeks.
"Thank you," Paige breathed out, her voice cracked and entirely undone. She peppered tiny, desperate kisses along Azzi’s cheekbone, her jaw, anywhere she could reach. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
She pulled back just enough to look into Azzi’s eyes, her own gaze wide with overwhelming, reverent gratitude.
"Thank you for loving me," Paige sobbed softly, a ragged, breathless laugh escaping her chest. "Thank you for forgiving me when I was so awful to you. You are so patient with me. You’re so perfect, and you're so loving, and I just... I don't know how I got so lucky."
Azzi listened to the frantic rush of words, her eyes softening even more. She reached up, gently catching Paige’s wrists and pulling her hands away from her face so she could hold them between their chests.
"Paige, look at me," Azzi murmured, her voice steady. She waited until Paige’s watery eyes locked onto hers. "You are absolutely not a bad person. And you don't treat me bad. We are just... we're in such a horrible situation right now. It's unfair to both of us, and it makes everything so hard."
Before Paige could argue or let the guilt take over again, Azzi leaned up and kissed her. This kiss was lighter, sweeter, a quiet reassurance that the storm had officially passed. When Azzi finally pulled away, a tiny, rare smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, though her eyes still held a lingering trace of caution.
"So," Azzi murmured, looking down at Paige. "Are there any more secrets you need to tell me?"
Paige’s expression went completely serious. She held Azzi's gaze, letting the silence stretch for a beat too long, deliberately feeding into the gravity of the question. "Yes," Paige said softly.
Azzi’s brow instantly furrowed, the sleepy softness vanishing as she braced herself. "What? Wait, Paige? Seriously?"
"I'm so in love with you," Paige confessed, her deadpan expression breaking into a bright, teary grin.
Azzi froze, blinking for a second as her brain processed the joke, before she let out a loud, playfully irritated groan. "Oh my god, you jerk! I know that!" she complained, shoving at Paige’s shoulder as the tension completely drained out of her.
Paige burst out laughing, the sound bubbly and relieved in the quiet room. She didn't let Azzi pull away, immediately throwing her arms around her and tackling her back into the pillows. "I just had to make sure!" Paige laughed, leaning over her and raining a flurry of quick, loud kisses all over Azzi’s face; her forehead, her nose, her cheeks.
"Paige, stop, it tickles!" Azzi protested, a genuine, beautiful laugh finally bubbling up from her chest as she tried to block Paige with her hands. The exhaustion that had held her captive all morning finally began to lift, replaced by the familiar, warm sound of them laughing together in the tangled sheets.
—
A week had passed, and Paige could still see the faint, lingering traces of their fight. She saw it in the way Azzi sometimes checked out during a conversation, or how she held onto Paige just a little tighter, as if she were still quietly waiting for the other shoe to drop. The sadness was still there, tucked away in the quiet corners of Azzi’s mind.
Right now, though, the room was entirely peaceful.
Azzi was sound asleep, lying completely across Paige’s chest. Her head was nestled right under Paige’s chin, one of her arms draped heavily over Paige’s waist, her breathing deep and even.
Paige lazily traced slow, gentle circles on Azzi’s bare shoulder, staring up at the ceiling. The contrast between how much Azzi loved her and how hesitant she still was tore at Paige's heart. She knew she had promised to fix this. She had promised to be better.
I need to show her, Paige thought, her heart suddenly doing a nervous, erratic flip against her ribs. I have to show her right now that I’m entirely hers.
The idea hit her with the force of a tidal wave, blinding and completely undeniable: She needed to ask Azzi to be her girlfriend. She wanted to strip away every ounce of Azzi's lingering sadness and replace it with absolute, unshakeable certainty. She wanted Azzi to wake up and know that Paige was choosing her above everything and everyone else.
Looking down at Azzi’s sleeping face, Paige’s chest swelled with a terrifying, beautiful wave of love. Her fingers trembled slightly against Azzi’s shoulder as the plan solidified in her mind. She wasn't going to wait anymore. The second Azzi woke up, she was going to ask.
Azzi stirred against Paige’s chest, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheek before she slowly blinked her eyes open. She shifted up just an inch, her voice low.
"Good morning, beautiful," Azzi murmured, her eyes still half-lidded with sleep.
Before Paige could even answer, Azzi leaned in, burying her face into the crook of Paige’s neck. She pressed a warm, lingering kiss right against her skin, inhaling deeply, before tracing a path of soft kisses up Paige's jawline. She found Paige's lips, pressing into them with sweet, lazy affection.
Paige’s heart squeezed painfully with love, but she knew if she let the kiss go any further, she’d lose her nerve. Gently, she placed her hands on Azzi’s shoulders, creating just a few inches of distance between them.
"Hey," Paige said softly, her voice trembling slightly. "Stop for a second. I... I want to talk to you."
The shift in Azzi was instantaneous. The warm, sleepy softness in her eyes completely evaporated, replaced by sudden tension. Her shoulders locked up under Paige’s hands, and her gaze dropped slightly, her expression hardening as she instinctively began to shut down, bracing herself for a blow.
"Baby," Paige added hurriedly, her heart aching at how quickly Azzi’s defenses had gone up. She cupped Azzi’s face, forcing her guarded eyes to lock back onto hers, her voice dripping with tenderness. "Hey, it's okay. It’s a good talk, I promise. It’s a really good talk, not a bad one."
Paige carefully sat up, shifting her weight against the headboard and gently pulling Azzi with her. She guided Azzi until she was sitting directly in her lap, straddling her thighs. Azzi let herself be moved, but she was still watching Paige with a quiet, watchful caution, her hands resting tentatively on Paige's shoulders.
Looking at Azzi sitting there, so beautiful and so close, a wave of panic hit Paige's chest. Her heart started hammering against her ribs. What if she says no? The thought flashed in her mind, terrifying and cold. What if I ruined things too badly last week, and she just wants to keep things casual because she doesn't trust me?
A desperate urge took over Paige. If this was the last moment she had where she could hold Azzi like this, without any barriers, she needed to memorize every single second of it.
Being incredibly gentle, Paige brought both of her hands up to cup Azzi’s face. She slid her fingers into the soft curls at the sides of Azzi's head, cradling her jawline like she was holding something impossibly fragile.
"Paige?" Azzi whispered, her brow furrowing slightly at the intensity in Paige's eyes.
Instead of answering, Paige leaned in and pressed her lips to Azzi's. It wasn't a rushed kiss; it was slow, deeply tender, and filled with a quiet, pleading devotion. She pulled away just a fraction, only to lean back in and kiss her again, softer this time. She moved her lips to Azzi’s cheekbone, pressing a lingering kiss there, then down to her jaw, and up to the center of her forehead.
She was completely raining love down on her, her thumbs soothing back and forth over Azzi's cheekbones. She held her close, burying her face in the crook of Azzi's neck for a brief second, just breathing her in, before pulling back to look at her again.
Azzi’s shoulders finally began to untangle from their tight knot, her eyes softening as she melted under Paige's touch.
Paige took a deep, shuddering breath, her thumbs tracing the smooth line of Azzi’s cheekbones one last time to steady her hands. She looked directly into Azzi’s eyes, refusing to let her own gaze drop, even though her heart was hammering so loudly against her ribs she was certain Azzi could hear it.
"Az," Paige whispered, her voice cracking slightly with a mix of nerves and devotion. "I know I messed up so badly last week. And I know that even though we're okay right now, you're still carrying a bit of hurt. I can feel it."
Azzi stayed completely still in her lap, as she listened, her eyes searching Paige’s face.
Paige swallowed the lump in her throat, tightening her hands just a fraction against Azzi's face.
"I want to be yours. Will you be my girlfriend?"
The second the word girlfriend left Paige’s lips, the cautious, guarded look on Azzi’s face completely shattered.
An absolute radiance took over her features as the biggest, brightest smile broke across her face. Paige felt her breath catch in her throat; she had never, in all the time she had known her, seen Azzi look so genuinely happy. The lingering sadness that had hung over her all week dissolved in an instant, her
eyes lighting up with warmth.
"You..." Azzi started, her voice a breathless, disbelieving laugh as she wrapped her hands around Paige’s wrists. She repeated the words slowly, as if trying to prove to herself they were real. "You want to be my girlfriend?"
Paige let out a shaky, incredibly relieved laugh of her own, nodding quickly as fresh tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "Yes. Yes, I really, really do.”
Azzi surged forward, throwing her arms tightly around Paige’s neck and immediately kissing her. It was completely different from before; it was celebratory, and overflowing with a dizzying amount of love.
When Azzi finally pulled back just enough to breathe, both of them were grinning so wide their cheeks ached.
Paige, still needing to hear the official word through her happy tears, cupped Azzi's waist. "So... is that a yes?"
Azzi laughed, a pure, beautiful sound, and leaned down to press her forehead against Paige's. "Yes," she whispered, her smile brushing against Paige’s skin. "Yes, of course it's a yes."
Azzi leaned back in, capturing Paige’s lips in another deep, lingering kiss that tasted like absolute relief. When she finally pulled away this time, she didn't look tired or guarded anymore. She just looked incredibly proud.
"All mine," Azzi murmured, her fingers tightening where they were tangled in the hair at the back of Paige's neck.
Paige’s heart did a dizzying flip, a breathless laugh escaping her as she looked up at her. "All yours," Paige echoed softly, her hands smoothing over the sides of Azzi’s waist, holding her close.
Azzi leaned down and kissed her again, harder this time, her lips molding against Paige’s with an urgency that made both of their breaths catch. The sheer joy of it was intoxicating. Azzi pulled back just a fraction of an inch, her eyes glittering as she rested her forehead against Paige's.
"My girl," Azzi whispered, her voice dropping into a low, affectionate hum.
"Your girl," Paige echoed instantly, her chest swelling with so much love it felt like it might burst. "Always."
"We need a picture," Azzi murmured, her voice still a little raspy. "Right now. I need proof."
"Proof?" Paige teased, her hands staying securely on the sides of Azzi’s waist.
"Yes, proof," Azzi smiled, shifting her weight in Paige’s lap so she could hold the phone up.
Instead of turning the camera on both of them right away, Azzi angled the camera downward, focusing just on Paige from her high vantage point. Through the screen, she captured the view she loved most: Paige sitting beneath her, looking up with wide, adoring eyes, her cheeks still a little flush from kissing, and her hands resting possessively on Azzi's waist. Paige gave a soft, incredibly genuine smile just as the camera clicked.
"Let me see," Paige giggled, trying to peek at the screen, but Azzi quickly swiped it away.
"Nope, my turn," Azzi said, her smile widening as she flipped the camera to selfie mode.
She held the phone out to the side, angling it so they were both perfectly in the frame against the backdrop of the bed sheets. Then, Azzi leaned right back down, tilting her head to capture Paige’s lips in a sweet, deep kiss. The phone clicked in Azzi's hand, capturing the exact moment their lips met.
Azzi’s thumb tapped the screen again, switching the camera from photo to video. She held the phone up high, framing both of their faces as she looked directly into the camera, a proud grin lighting up her entire face.
"This is my girlfriend," Azzi said to the camera, her voice full of bright happy confidence.
Hearing the words out loud in that context made a giggle burst out of Paige's chest. She couldn't help herself; looking at Azzi’s face through the screen, she was completely overwhelmed by how much she adored her.
While the video was still going, Paige leaned forward and buried her face into the side of Azzi’s neck. She pressed a soft, lingering kiss right against her skin, making Azzi let out a quiet, happy hum. Paige didn't stop there. She traced a slow trail of warm, adoring kisses up the line of Azzi’s jaw, moving deliberately, before peppering sweet, soft kisses all over her flushed cheek.
"I love you," Paige murmured against Azzi’s skin, her voice dripping with absolute tenderness. "I love you so much."
Azzi tilted her head into the affection, her smile so wide her eyes crinkled at the corners. She shifted the phone slightly to keep them both in the frame, leaning down to press her temple against Paige's head, completely basking in the warmth.
Paige coughed a bit as she took off her paint suit. The fumes were almost overpowering on her walk to the water hose.
It was Sunday afternoon, which meant she was working on fixing up a 2010 Ford Ranger with her dad. He got it for her for Christmas last year, probably to make up for the conflict with her mom over Thanksgiving break, and she all but sobbed when she saw it.
But since her dad bought it off one of his coworkers for 500 bucks, it practically needed to be stripped down and built back up. So, their tradition for the last year had been to work on it for a few hours after church.
And they were so close to being done. They just finished the paint, and the engine was running perfectly, and after they sealed the final coat of paint, the truck would be completely hers. She couldn’t wait.
When she finished cleaning up, she headed inside where her dad was plating their dinner.
Bob Bueckers was the best dad she could’ve asked for. He wasn’t the richest, but he was the hardest worker she knew. And even when Paige’s mom left them in the dust, he stepped up and worked more hours to make sure Paige had everything she needed, plus a little of what she wanted. Even with how much he worked at various construction sites, he had never missed a game.
He was Paige’s biggest supporter, and the most important person in her life. Which meant that he knew everything about her.
“How’ve your grades been?” He questioned after they finally sat in front of their plates.
Paige swallowed her chicken guiltily. She was furious with herself at the amount of stress she had put her dad under. It wasn’t like he never asked her about her grades before, but he’d been asking more often since her grades had started slipping.
“Well, I got an 82 on my math quiz on Friday,” she shrugged, trying to maintain her nonchalant expression.
Her dad had the opposite reaction though – his whole face lit up with glee. “Paige! That’s amazing honey! I’m so proud of you sweetheart.”
She felt her cheeks darken and warm. As much as she acted like it wasn’t, that grade was a big deal. She hadn’t scored above a C on anything in math since her sophomore year.
“What changed? Did you start asking your teachers for help or something?”
See Paige hadn’t told her dad about the tutoring. Not because she was ashamed or anything, but because she didn’t know how he’d react to who her tutor was.
“Coach set up a tutor for me. She’s been really helpful – she kinda rewords everything so it’s something I understand.” She smiled thinking about how much she’d grown to understand in the couple of sessions they’d had so far. “She’s been really good for me.”
Bob broke into a wide smile, “That’s great, P! Who is she? Do we already know her?”
She winced a little before speaking. “It’s Azzi Fudd, and I know how her parents are. I know how her dad preaching nothing but hate, but she’s not like them dad, I swear.”
Her dad looked at her skeptically. She knew his history with the Fudds – how her parents started going to their church when she was a baby. How he preached about how if a man couldn’t completely support his family, he wasn’t a real man. That sermon was what started the fight between Bob and Amy Bueckers.
He hadn’t been back to that church since their divorce, but Paige’s mom was there multiple times a week. So it didn’t come as a shock when Amy completely cut Paige off after she came out last year. The pain that being unwanted by her own mother made her dad absolutely hate her mom and everyone else in that congregation.
He sat back with a deeply sigh, “Okay Paige. I trust you – I just want you to be careful.”
“Dad, I promise. She hasn’t even said anything about me being gay, and she’s super nice and everything. I’ll see if she wants to come over for dinner or something. You’ll see.”
Paige didn’t know why she was defending Azzi so much – they weren’t even really friends. But she’d do it tomorrow, invite her to dinner after the game that week.
🏈📖💙🏈📖💙🏈📖💙🏈📖💙🏈
The next morning, Paige made sure to look a little more put together than she normally would on a Monday. Instead of sweats, she went with baggy off black jeans with a ‘she got game’ t-shirt with all of her favorite women’s basketball players on it. She couldn’t decide about shoes – there were the red and white fours, some light blue retro ones, and the classic crisp forces. After much deliberation, she decided that the blue writing on her shirt needed something to match. She slicked her hair back into a tight bun, and she was ready.
She hadn’t put that much thought into an outfit since she was in eighth grade and had a crush on Sarai Carmichael. And she didn’t have a crush on Azzi, like not at all, but she still wanted to put her best foot forward when she asked her to come over.
Her phone buzzed with a text.
Tash 💪🏽🤎: Iz had a makeup quiz so Nai’s gonna pick u up
She liked the message, only a little annoyed that Tash hadn’t told her anything until the last minute. Paige huffed softly, heading into the kitchen to find something to eat. Her dad left apple cinnamon oatmeal warming on the stove with a plate of bacon and eggs on the side. She was only able to finish the oatmeal and eggs when she heard a horn beeping from outside. She wrapped her bacon in a paper towel and grabbed an apple before heading out.
DiJonai’s car was as loud as she was – her music wasn’t blaring today, but the pink Jeep always stood out in a crowd. As Paige got closer to the Wrangler, she could see Nai tossing things into the back.
“What’s up, Paigey Waigey!” Nai beamed as she opened the door.
Of all of Paige’s closest friends, DiJonai Carrington was the one that made the least amount of sense on paper. For one, Nai loved school. She was the complete opposite of the dumb blonde cheerleader – she’d probably be a lawyer or a doctor or something. She was also the girliest person on the planet. There was not a single day where she didn’t have on at least on pink accessory. Nai was rich too – her dad was a retired football player who did motivational talks across the country. The only things they had in common were their inability to stay still for more than two minutes, their natural blonde hair, and their height. But somehow they clicked, and they’d been best friends since the day they met.
“Greetings, Mother,” Paige smirked, climbing into the Jeep.
There’d been a running joke since their freshman year. Nai would keep her more organized and in line for math, she brought snacks to help her focus when they studied together, and she always cheered the loudest for her at the football games. A couple people thought they were together for a bit, and Paige gagged with a quick “ew, she’s like my mom,” and the name had stuck since.
DiJonai looked her up and down as she pulled away from the curb. “You look mighty spiffy for a Monday morning.”
Paige felt her cheeks color. She didn’t know how to explain everything, but she was never able to lie to Nai. “I need to prove a point.”
All she got in response was a raised brow.
“I told my dad that Azzi was tutoring me, and he thinks that she’s gonna be like her dad.”
The older girl cut her eyes at Paige, brows furrowed. “What do you mean Azzi is tutoring you?”
Paige winced, “Yeah, coach set it up. Anyway – ”
“Wait, has she actually been helping?”
“Yeah, I got an 82 on my math quiz last week. Anyway,” she continued, waving Nai off. “I need to prove to my dad that she’s not rude and homophobic like her parents, so I have to get her to come to dinner, so he can see.”
Nai just hummed to herself, and a blind man could see the wheels turning in her head. “You dressed up to ask her to come over for dinner…? And you’re just going this because you need to prove a point? No other reason?”
Paige tossed her a look. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“Girl, you better fix that attitude. I raised you better than that.” DiJonai glared. “I’m just saying, that’s a lot, just to ask someone to come over for dinner.”
“Yeah, well I need her to say yes, and I don’t think she’s gonna wanna come if I show up looking like shit.” She sighed.
Nai nodded, face pensive. “Azzi’s not like that though. But why do you care so much?”
“My dad hates her family, but she’s going out of her way to help me, and she’s being really nice about it. I don’t think he can be fully happy for me if he thinks I’m getting pity help from someone who hates who I am.”
DiJonai left it alone after that, but Paige couldn’t get the conversation out of her head. Why was she doing so much just to prove a stupid point?
The question bounced around her mind all day, even when it was finally lunch time and she saw the tutor for the first time that day.
Azzi was sitting with the same people she always did. All the uptight church kids who only knew the God who judged, and not the God who loved.
Paige grabbed her tray from the lunch line and headed toward her usual table in the back corner. The cafeteria was loud – chairs scraping, voices overlapping, someone's laugh cutting through everything else.
She had to pass Azzi's table to get there.
Jacob was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest like he owned the place. Chrissy sat next to him, her boyfriend's arm slung over her shoulders. Teagan was picking at her salad, Silas saying something that made Jacob snort.
And Azzi. Sitting between Chrissy and Teagan, hands folded on the table in front of her.
Paige wasn't trying to listen. She was just walking by. But Jacob's voice carried. It always did. "I mean, it's disgusting. Those dykes think they can just – "
Paige's steps slowed. She couldn't help it.
"It's an abomination," Chrissy said, her voice sharp and certain. "The Bible's clear about it."
"They're all going to hell," Harrison added. "Every single one of them."
Paige almost stopped walking, tray heavy in her hands.
"It's the broken homes," Jacob said. "That's what causes it. No father figure, or a weak one who can't lead. That's why girls like Paige Bueckers end up the way they do."
Her chest tightened. She turned her head slightly, just enough to see them.
Chrissy nodded along. "I heard her mom doesn't even talk to her anymore. Can you blame her?"
"I'd disown my kid too if they were a faggot," Silas said.
Teagan made a soft sound of agreement.
And Azzi – Azzi just sat there. Her face was blank. Not angry. Not uncomfortable. Just nothing. She didn't say a word. Didn't tell them to stop. Didn't defend Paige. Didn't even flinch. She just sat there, hands still folded, eyes on the table, like she wasn't hearing any of it. Like it didn't matter. Like Paige didn't matter.
Something cracked inside Paige's chest. She looked away. Forced her feet to move faster. One step. Then another. She kept walking, past their table, past the sound of Jacob's laugh, past all of it.
She made it to her table and sat down. Nai was already there, mid-conversation with Tash about something Paige couldn't focus on.
Nai looked at her. "You good?"
Paige nodded, not trusting her voice. Nai didn't believe her, Paige could never lie to her, but she let it go.
Paige stared down at her food. Couldn't eat. All she could think about was Azzi. Sitting there. Saying nothing.
She spent all morning getting ready. Put on the right clothes. Did her hair. Told herself it was just to ask Azzi to dinner. To prove to her dad Azzi wasn't like them.
But she was like them.
She was just like them.
She sat at their table. Listened to their hate. And said nothing.
Paige felt stupid, so fucking stupid.
The blue sneakers she'd picked out so carefully felt like a joke now.
She pushed her tray away and pulled out her phone, pretending to scroll through something, anything, so no one would ask her what was wrong.
Because she didn't have an answer. Or maybe she did, and she just didn't want to admit it.
🏈📖💙🏈📖💙🏈📖💙🏈📖💙🏈
Azzi just knew it was going to be a good day.
She knew her outfit was cute – she’d picked out all of her clothes for the week after church. It was just a simple chocolate polka dot skirt, a fitted cream top, with a chunky, brown cardigan. She wore her trust brown flats and pulled her hair back with a matching bow.
She also had her presentation on Tartuffe during first period, and she knew that it would be another easy A because she’d been preparing for a month.
Her parents were going to be out of town for the next ten days, which meant she was free from their expectations and critiques for a little while.
Earlier today, between second and third period, DiJonai Carrington cornered her in the bathroom. She’d always been friendly with DiJonai – they were always in the same French classes and had even been partners for a few projects – but they never really spoke out of class.
The tall cheerleader looked Azzi up and down with a smirk. “I heard you’re tutoring my best friend…”
Azzi’s stomach dropped. Everyone on campus knew how protective the blondes were over each other. “Um – I – yes. Coach Franklin asked me too, and I have no problem with helping her.”
“She said she got a B on her math quiz last week,” she continued, looking the tutor up and down. “She hasn’t passed a math test in like a year.”
“Well, it wasn’t like she couldn’t do the work,” Azzi started with a gulp. “I just think the way they are teaching her doesn’t work with how she processes information.” She explained, afraid that DiJonai would think she had the wrong intentions.
The blonde rolled her eyes, “Girl, I’m not mad. I just wanted to say thank you. She never let me help her, so I’m just happy she’s accepting help from somebody.”
“Oh,” Azzi felt her cheeks heat. “It’s nothing, I’m happy I’ve been able to help her.”
DiJonai pushed off the wall with a smile, “Yeah, well, me too. If you need anything, like anything ever, you know where to find me.”
The interaction was brief, but it meant a lot to Azzi – other people appreciated what she was doing for Paige. It wasn’t common that she received recognition from anyone other than the students she helped. It felt nice.
She thought about their chat in the restroom for the rest of the day. Not even the disgusting conversation at lunch could break her spirit.
She was even excited for tutoring today – well she always was because it meant that she could spend a little bit of time with her crush. She’d crafted a set of comprehension questions for The Great Gatsby, since Paige was supposed to finish it over the weekend. She hoped the questions would help the blonde get to know her a bit better. Show Paige that she wasn’t like everyone else in her circle.
Azzi practically skipped as she made her way to the library. She was still thirty minutes early to set up their table in the media center, but Kelsey Travis ended up skipping her session today, so she had the extra time.
She spread all the materials out. Following the same color-coding system she’d implemented on the first day.
After everything was set up, she pulled out her phone and opened Pinterest. Sure it was a little lame, but it was the only social media her parents had permitted her to have. And since she couldn’t download any new apps without their password, she wasn’t able to have any social media.
When five thirty rolled around, Azzi sat up a bit straighter, pushing her hair off her shoulders as she waited for Paige.
Then five minutes passed, which was odd, because outside of the first day, Paige had been right on time for their sessions.
After ten minutes, a stone of worry weighed in her stomach. She pulled out her phone and sent a quick message.
Azzi: Hi! I am just wondering if everything is okay, or if we need to cancel for today :)
Another five minutes passed, and there was no response. Just a simple ‘Read at 5:47 PM’.
Azzi’s brows furrowed, wondering what had happened to cause the football player to just ghost her.
At 5:55, Azzi started packing up her belongings when she heard the click of the library door. She gave a worried smile as the tall blonde came into view.
“Hi, Paige! Did practice run over today?” She asked brightly.
The blonde didn’t even look at Azzi as she shook her head. She crossed the media center and dropped her bag next to her seat. She tugged her hood low over her head as she dropped into her seat.
“Well, how was your weekend? Did you get to do anything fun?” Azzi tried again, keeping her tone bright, even though she was almost sick with worry.
One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “Was fine.”
Nothing else. Not a ‘it was fine, what about you?’ or ‘I went to the movies with my friends’ or anything that suggested she was cared even the slightest bit.
Azzi shifted in her seat, nervous energy taking over her body. “Well, did you get a chance to finish Gatsby? I thought of some quest – ”
“Yeah.” She replied, cutting her off.
The rest of the session went just like that. Azzi would ask questions, and Paige would give her basic, one word answers, that didn’t even begin to be a sufficient enough response. They didn’t even get to use the questions that Azzi had spent hours crafting.
Tears welled in her eyes a couple of times, but she was quick to swallow them down. She didn’t want Paige thinking she was a crybaby too, but she was just being so mean.
Once six thirty rolled around, Paige didn’t say anything. She just shot up, grabbed her backpack and stormed out.
Azzi sat frozen at the table for a long moment after the library door clicked shut behind Paige.
The comprehension questions she'd spent hours crafting last night were still spread out in front of her, untouched. She'd been so excited about them – the questions she'd designed to spark conversation, to show Paige she understood her, to maybe learn something about her in return.
What do you think Gatsby's parties say about loneliness?
Do you think Daisy ever really loved him?
If you could ask Fitzgerald one question about the ending, what would it be?
Stupid. They were stupid questions.
Azzi's hands shook as she gathered the papers, shoving them into her folder without bothering to organize them. The color-coded system she'd been so proud of didn't matter. None of it mattered.
She replayed the session in her head as she packed up. Every attempt she'd made. Every one-word answer Paige had given.
"Did you have any trouble with the symbolism?"
"Nope."
"What did you think about Nick as a narrator?"
"Fine."
"Do you want to talk about the themes for your essay?"
"Not really."
Azzi had tried everything. She'd even mentioned the game – how she'd cool it was that Paige had three touchdowns – but Paige had just shrugged and said "Yeah" like it meant nothing.
Like Azzi meant nothing.
The worst part was the way Paige wouldn't even look at her. She'd kept her hood pulled low, her eyes on the table or her notebook or anywhere that wasn't Azzi's face. No eye contact. No smiles. No teasing about her color-coded notes or the way she always had three different highlighters.
Nothing.
Azzi's throat felt tight as she zipped her backpack. She blinked hard, willing the tears back. She would not cry in the library. She would not.
But her vision blurred anyway as she stood up and pushed her chair in.
What had she done wrong?
The bike ride home was torture.
Azzi pedaled slowly, her mind spinning faster than her legs ever could.
Did I say something wrong?
She replayed every tutoring session they'd had. Last week had been good – great, even. Paige had laughed at something Azzi said about the green light symbolism. She'd leaned in close when Azzi was showing her how to annotate. She'd stayed an extra ten minutes past six-thirty just talking about the football game that week.
So what changed?
Was I a bad tutor?
Maybe Paige had failed another quiz earlier that day. Maybe the B last week was a fluke and now she was back to failing and it was Azzi's fault for not preparing her well enough. Maybe Coach Franklin was going to fire her and tell everyone she wasn't actually good at this.
Is she failing again?
The thought made Azzi's stomach drop. She should have asked. Should have checked in about grades instead of just assuming everything was fine. But Paige hadn't given her the chance – she'd shut down every question before Azzi could get anywhere real.
Did I say something offensive?
Azzi's hands tightened on the handlebars. Had she said something last week? Something that came across wrong? She'd mentioned her church's youth group meeting. Was that it? Had that reminded Paige of something bad?
Or maybe it was the way Azzi had asked about Paige's mom. She'd just been trying to understand the family dynamics for the essay they were planning, but maybe that was too personal. Maybe Paige thought she was prying.
Does she hate me?
The question hit hardest.
Azzi turned onto her street, her eyes burning. The sun was setting, painting everything orange and pink, and it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.
She pulled into her driveway and sat on her bike for a moment, one foot on the ground, staring at nothing.
Paige had been so cold. So distant. Like Azzi was just an obligation. A chore to get through.
Like she couldn't wait to leave.
Azzi's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, hoping – stupidly, desperately hoping – it might be Paige. An apology. An explanation. Anything.
It was just a reminder about youth group on Wednesday.
She stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over her contacts.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she scrolled to DiJonai's name. They'd exchanged numbers sophomore year for a French project and had texted on and off since then – mostly about assignments, occassionally about random things.
Azzi's fingers moved before her brain could catch up.
Azzi: Hey! Random question but what's Paige's favorite dessert?
She hit send and immediately regretted it.
What was she doing? Why would she ask that? It was so obvious. So transparent.
Her phone buzzed almost immediately.
DiJonai Carrington: girl
DiJonai Carrington: GIRL
DiJonai Carrington: why are you asking me that
Azzi's face burned. She stared at the messages, her heart pounding.
Azzi: I just thought it might be nice to bring something to tutoring sometime? To celebrate her progress?
DiJonai Carrington: uh huh
DiJonai Carrington: and this has nothing to do with whatever happened today that made her get in my car looking like someone kicked her dog?
Azzi's stomach dropped.
Azzi: What do you mean? Is she okay?
DiJonai Carrington: you tell me
DiJonai Carrington: she won't talk about it but she's been in a mood since lunch
DiJonai Carrington: so I'm gonna ask you one more time
DiJonai Carrington: why are you really asking about her favorite dessert?
Azzi stared at her phone, her hands shaking.
Since lunch.
Something happened at lunch.
But what? Azzi had been at lunch. She'd sat with Jacob and Chrissy and Tegan and Harrison and Silas like always. They'd been going on and on about –
Oh.
Oh no.
The conversation. The one she'd tuned out because she didn't want to engage – couldn't engage. The one where Jacob had been on one of his rants and everyone else had been agreeing and Azzi had just sat there, hands folded, waiting for it to be over.
She hadn't been listening. Not really. She never did when Jacob got like that.
She shoved her phone in her pocket, climbed off her bike, and wheeled it into the garage.
Inside the house, she dropped her backpack by the door and went straight to her room.
She sat on her bed, pulled her knees to her chest, and finally let herself cry.
She couldn't believe herself – she was just like them, not caring about who was hurt by their views. And now Paige had gotten hurt because she was too scared to have an opinion.
She fell asleep sobbing into her pillow, wishing she could just make Paige feel better.
Portal into my Heart: Look into My Eyes. Tell Me What You See and How You Feel
A/N: AU where Paige and Azzi meet as players who weren't heavily recruited. As they look to build their reputations and get noticed by bigger programs, they try to find out if there is anything between them that's worth pursuing. Also, I realize that transferring from the juco level doesn’t require the player to enter the portal. Only Azzi would need to do that. For the sake of this story, we’ll say they both are in the portal.
This is completely fictional.
Word count: 800 words
Prologue
Paige
Paige Bueckers was the best high school player no one ever heard of, thanks to spending her entire life in the small town of Littlefork, Minnesota. Home to a population of just 600 and surrounded by towns barely bigger than it, Littlefork was a town that even many Minnesotans had never heard of.
Unfortunately for Paige, that meant playing for a tiny high school and zero exposure outside of town limits. As great as she was, she had never played against top schools and she had no way to show coaches her skills and/or how she'd fare against better competition. Playing for a premier AAU team–or any AAU team for that matter– was not an option.
Sometime during the fall of Paige’s senior year of high school, she was approached by Stan Wilson, the coach of a top junior college (Juco) in the state. He happened to attend two Littlefork games while visiting family in the area and he couldn't believe how an untapped talent like Paige was able to stay under the radar. He just had to talk to her.
“That was a hell of a game, Paige,” Stan told her. “Your game the other day was fantastic as well.”
“I'm Stan, by the way,” as he introduced himself. “Yes, I'm Charlie's uncle and I'm also the coach of Minnesota West Junior College (Juco) about four hours away. As I understand, you aren't committed to a school yet. Do you have any offers?”
“That's correct and no, sir. No offers.” Paige confirmed. “Not that I expected any. It's kinda hard to get noticed when you only play in Littlefork and other nearby small towns.
“I'll be honest with you, Paige,” Stan said. “I see immense potential in you and I think the Juco route will be a perfect way for you to measure yourself against better competition while also building momentum for bigger programs to recruit you.”
“But you'd have to be willing to leave this town.” he continued: “Minnesota West has won the last five Minnesota Juco state titles. Even though we're a junior college, we have scouts at every game.”
Paige put her faith in Stan and joined the MW team. She led them to another state title her first year, averaging 29ppg, 8apg and 5rpg. Paige was widely considered the top Juco prospect.
Azzi
Azzi Fudd was the best high school player in the country as a freshman and sophomore. But then two back-to-back season long injuries her junior and senior years scared schools away, leading to her falling off everyone's radar completely. She ended up at Tennessee State University, a small, low profile Division I school in Nashville.
She chose to go there and build her reputation back to what it was. In a year, maybe two, she hoped to transfer to a bigger program that would give her the exposure needed to get into the W. Her first year stats were impressive: 26ppg, the most in D1. 7apg, 3spg and 2bpg. Her team wasn't successful enough to make the NCAAs, but she did lead them to a much improved record, from 10-20 last year to 18-12 this year.
__________
Their basketball careers were delayed but not denied. Can the same be said for their connection to each other?What happens next? Do they go their separate ways, never to see each other again? Little do they know they are inevitable. Do they recognize it? Only time will tell
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Please let me know if you are interested in this at all. It came to me a few weeks ago, but I don't want to waste my time if there's no interest in it. With so many great fics out there, it's hard to gauge if this is something that will be read or not.
islanders in paradise chapter two: growing connection ୨ৎ
synopsis: paige and azzi’s feelings for each other continues to strengthen. and the sexual tension between them starts to become worse.
contains: paige being a simp, grinding, dirty talk, teasing, Azzi throwing it back on Paige, funny moments, recoupling, suggestive language, sexual tension, heated make out, Azzi wearing a sexy nurse costume, a little jealous & possessive Azzi, p & a’s relationship is still kinda confusing, they are so dumb and cute. paige annoying her way into azzi's heart
wc:8.4k
authors note: hello. sorry for the wait. also, this is only the second week in the villa. thank you @hoes4pazzi for editing this story for me!! I hope you all enjoy :)) click here to read chapter one!
“You’re so crazy for licking whip cream off of my stomach yesterday mama,” Paige said. She shook her head a little in disbelief. Her hand was running up and down Azzi’s thigh that rested in her lap.
Azzi let out a small hum. Her attention was more focused on untangling Paige’s cross necklace from her mic necklace. “I mean you liked it though,” she mumbled. Azzi’s voice was soft but also filled with flirtatiousness.
Paige’s cheeks flushed from the memory of Azzi looking up at her through her lashes while she swiped her tongue over the older girls skin. A warm smile stretched on the blonde’s lips, “Yeah, I did. A little… a little too much, honestly.”
The brunette’s eyes widened a little in surprise. Don't get her wrong, she knew Paige liked it, her face said it all during the moment, but the fact that she actually admitted it honestly shocked Azzi.
Azzi laughed. She got up from her seat and fully situated herself on Paige’s lap. The brunette’s dimples popped out from how the blonde’s hands automatically went to her waist.
She wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck and tugged her forward. Paige melted in Azzi’s embrace, loving the way she could feel Azzi’s heart beat against hers.
The two girls had to pull away from each other when Mark called after Paige’s name. The blonde rolled her eyes and let out a small groan.
“Gonna miss you,” Azzi mumbled as she moved off of Paige’s lap. A small pout was on her face.
Paige smirked. “I think you should give me a kiss on the lips so you won’t miss me as much.” She playfully rubbed her hands together and wiggled her brows at the brunette.
Azzi rolled her eyes. “Hurry up and go do your confessional so we can cuddle after,” she snapped. There was a tight feeling in her chest from how Paige instantly followed her command and walked over to mark.
“You low-key just cock blocked me in a way,” Paige mumbled under her breath to Mark, who was walking beside her.
Mark rolled his eyes. “How in the world did I cock block you, paige?” He asked.
“I was so close to kissing Azzi," she replied. Paige held her hand out to demonstrate an inch with her thumb and index finger.
“Really? It didn't look like that to me.” he teased.
Paige went to a complete stop. “Alright. Not too much on me. I'm still working on getting another kiss.” Her voice was filled with confidence and determination. Even though they had already kissed two times—and yes, she was keeping count—it was only during challenges. She wanted to actually work for the kiss.
Paige took a deep breath when she made it into the confessional room. She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs, waiting for Mark to get all the camera and microphone stuff ready. “What do I talk about now?” She asked.
“Talk about your relationship with Azzi and how you are feeling.” Mark said as he adjusted the camera so Paige was fully in the frame.
She nodded her head in understanding. Paige waited for Mark's nod to start talking. “Guys, I think I'm falling for Azzi. Well, wait like- I've already fallen for Azzi but it's getting worse.” she said, her face burning at the fact.
“Like I fear I am not in fact the ‘nonchalant final boss’ that I say I am. Because when I’m around her I'm everything but nonchalant. I love her smile and her dimples. God, I love her dimples so much and that smile she always gives me when I say something funny but won't admit it.” A sappy smile stretched on Paige's face as she continued on.
Paige’s heart doubled in size as she went on about the butterflies she would get when she was only around Azzi. Just like always, Mark had turned off the camera before she could even finish. “Bro-, I hate when you do that,” she groaned.
“My bad,” Mark half apologized. “But in my defense you got off track. We can't add the full five minutes of you talking about how pretty Azzi’s dimples are into the show.” He added.
The blonde’s eyebrow rose. “Why not?”
“The confessionals are supposed to be thirty seconds long. So, I will probably have to cut some things out or not some, mainly all of what you said out.”
Paige’s shoulders fell from his words. “Bruh-, you could've told me that before I started rambling.” It wasn't that she regretted what she said about Azzi, god no, her rant just left her huffing and puffing for air.
“Can you at least save the footage for me and send it to me when I get my phone back?”
Mark laughed. “Sure. I think you should get going though. You don't want to leave your lady- oh, I mean, Azzi, waiting for too long.”
Paige immediately got up at his words. “Fuck you right-, see you later Mark,” she said as she walked out of the room. Paige was walking so fast that she almost tripped on her way over to the lounge area where Azzi was still at.
The smile on Azzi’s face made her put a little prep in her step. When she made it to the foot of the couch, Azzi opened her arms out in the air and Paige happily flopped herself into Azzi’s embrace. Paige took in a deep inhale breathing in the tropical perfume Azzi was wearing.
“How was your confessional?" Azzi asked as she ran her fingers through the blonde’s hair.
Paige hummed softly at the feeling of Azzi’s nails scratching at her scalp. “It was okay.” she replied, acting as if she didn’t spend her whole time in the confession room talking about Azzi.
Azzi nodded her head. Before they could even switch positions to get more comfortable, the phone beside them dinged. Paige groaned but picked up the phone anyways. “I got a teeeeeeext,” she announced loudly enough for the whole villa to hear. Now, she was sitting up with one of her arms wrapped loosely around Azzi’s waist.
The rest of the islanders screamed out of excitement. “What does it say?” Someone asked, but Paige didn’t know exactly who said it. She didn't really care.
Paige’s eyes scrunched a little from the sun as she tried reading the text out loud. “Islanders, start getting ready, the temperature in the villa is going to be rising after tonight's challenge 🥵🔥.”
Azzi raised an eyebrow, "Temperature? What does that mean?” she asked. Azzi looked over Paige’s shoulder to see if the blonde missed a detail that she was supposed to read out. And of course, that was it, leaving her confused on what would be happening later.
She and Paige walked behind everyone else as they headed to the dressing room. Azzi ended up wearing a pastel yellow set. It was a tube top that had a lace patterned fabric over the base fabric of the top, stopping just short of her belly button piercing.
The skirt she was wearing was a short ruffled jean mini skirt. The skirt went just below her inner thighs and hugged her hips. Azzi massaged body glitter onto her whole body. She kept her make-up light with just some mascara and her go-to lip combo.
The touch of someone’s hand that grabbed at her waist made the brunette jump. Azzi turned her head over her shoulder, meeting Paige’s eyes that were low and dilated.
“You look gorgeous,” Paige rasped out. Her eyes looked up and down shamelessly checking out the girl in front of her.
Azzi’s breath hitched at the blonde's outfit. She was wearing blue denim jorts and a white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, her blonde hair up in a bun that highlighted her sharp jawline. The shirt clearly showed off the muscles of Paige’s arms and biceps, which cropped just above the the waistband of the shorts. Azzi's heart went into a complete stop when she realized the band of Paige's boxers were showing from her jorts hanging loose on her hips because the belt that wrapped around her was practically only there for the look at that point. Azzi wishes she were that belt.
“Thank you, so do you.” Azzi said her voice was a little shaky. She leaned her body more into Paige’s touch and didn't pull away until some of the islanders were leaving the room.
Azzi grabbed Paige hand tugging her to start walking. Once everyone made it back down to the grassy area, they all circled around Kenzie. “Alright. For this challenge you guys will be split into two groups. The views have paired each one of you with another islander and that will be your partner for this game. Now, I'm gonna read off the list of who everyone is paired with .” Kenzie said while she looked down at her clipboard—that never left her hands honestly.
As Kenzie called out the names, the islanders went to go find their partners. Azzi bit the inside of her lip when her name finally left the workers lips. “Azzi… you are paired with Paige,” Kenzie said, a huge smile forming on Azzi’s face.
Azzi cuddled more into Paige’s side, wrapping her arm around the blonde’s waist. The tips of her fingers ran over the sliver of Paige’s skin that was on display. Paige’s face burned at the touch and shivers ran down her spine from the feeling of Azzi’s fingers on her skin.
Azzi and Paige ended up being on the purple team with Alex and Jessica, and a few other couples. The other team—team pink—had moved somewhere else that wasn't around them. Kenzie motioned them to sit in the lounge area in front of them when it was almost time to get ready to film.
So for this game someone's phone will receive a message on which couple will walk to this circle," Kenzie informed, pointing at the purple circle on the ground. “And the message will also say a word which will be either lick, touch, grind, suck, and so forth. That couple will obviously do whatever the word says. And these stands right next to me will light up as you guys go.”
Paige’s head tilted a little to the side. Before she could even open her mouth to ask a question Kenzie cut her off. “Hold on," she held a hand up, "I'm getting there, Paige.” she said, already reading the blonde’s confused expression. A few of the islanders laughed at Paige’s offended look on her face.
“A loud horn will be heard when the couple has to start the challenge. And the couple will have to go all out with their word for the stand to light up completely which means that you have won. Now, this pink stand will show you the other team's progress so you can see how they are doing as well.”
Everyone nodded her their heads in understanding when Kenzie stopped talking. “Im kinda scared,” Paige mumbled underneath her breath to Azzi.
The brunette shrugged her shoulders. “All I'm saying is that I am not losing so we have to go all out,” Azzi's voice was filled with competitiveness.
Paige nodded her head. Her heart dropped a little when Alex’s phone rang. “Fuck. Me and Jessica have to go first,” she cursed as she read the message.
“What do you guys have to do?” Azzi asked.
“Kiss.” Alex replied as she helped Jessica up and off the couch to head to the stage.
“Oh that's not bad,” Azzi shrugged.
Alex and Jessica ended up losing the challenge. Both the girls walked back to the couch area to hit down. Alex’s phone buzzed again two minutes later. “Okay, round two is Paige and Azzi.” she announced making Azzi squeal out of excitement.
“What’s our word?” Paige asked. Please don't be grinding. I can not handle that shit again. She thought. But then again, she wouldn’t be mad about it. At most she will probably just implode.
“Grinding,” Alex smirked. A few of the other girls who were laying on the sofa let out teasing noises.
God fucking dammit, Paige thought. Her face burned as she looked at Azzi, who, on the opposing, had a smirk on her face. Yeah, I’m definitely not surviving this shit.
“When you hear the sound of the horn, lay on the floor.” Azzi whispered underneath her breath as they walked over to the stage.
Paige nodded her head with a small smirk. “You gonna grind on my abs in front of everyone?” All of her nervousness washed away when Azzi turned her head over her shoulder to fully look at her.
“Yep. I told you I wanna win this damn challenge.”
The blonde narrowed her eyes at Azzi. “Nah-, I think you are using this as an excuse to grind on my abs.” she shot back.
Azzi groaned. “Do you ever stop talking?
Paige smirk stretched wide. “Yeah I do stop talking when my mouth is occupied. Wanna figure out how to make me stop talking?”
Azzi was about to say ‘yes’ but then it actually hit her what Paige was hinting at. “Ugh-, paige,” she groaned, pushing at the girl's shoulder. The blonde tried to hold in her laugh as they stood beside each other waiting for the horn.
The second the sound did go off Paige dropped to the floor and laid on her back. She was not about to get screamed at by Azzi later from not following her instructions. Paige’s eyes widened slightly when Azzi straddled her lap and pulled her shirt up to reveal more of her stomach.
Fuck. Paige thought. I'm so fucked.
Paige held onto Azzi’s waist as the girl ground on her stomach like there weren't other people watching them. Her breath hitched when Azzi moved one of her hands down to her ass. Paige’s grip tightened as she held onto the hem of Azzi’s skirt not wanting it to bunch up and flash the other people watching.
Azzi didn't stop her movement until the girls on the lounge jumped up screaming with excitement. “Did we win?” Azzi asked, Paige's hands didn't leave her butt as she spoke.
“Yes!”
A grin appeared on Azzi’s face. She giggled at how Paige didn't move her hands, using the excuse of wanting to make sure she wouldn't flash anyone. “You okay?” Azzi whispered when she helped paige off of the floor. Paige’s face was so red that she was scared that the girl was gonna explode any second.
Paige nodded her head. “Yeah, sorry. I'm still tryin’ to collect my thoughts.” she mumbled back as they walked back over to the sofa.
Azzi just smirked at her words and sat extra close to Paige. The next round Azzi put her hand on Paige’s knee. Some people would probably think that the touch was innocent. But for Paige? She would say that it was teasing.
The blonde just rested her back further into the couch. She tried to control her breathing as the brunette’s hand inched up higher on her leg and stopped at her inner thigh. “Azzi,” Paige groaned out.
“What?”
“Don't act dumb, Azzi. You know exactly what you're doing,” Paige grumbled. Her eyes narrowed and stared daggers into the side of Azzi’s face. She had to shake off the fuzzy feeling that grew in her stomach from Azzi’s touch.
Without saying anything Azzi took her hand off of Paige's thigh and rested it in her own lap. Her brown eyes were locked on what was happening in front of her, not once did she glance at Paige. The blonde’s eyes widened a little at the sudden loss of the brunette’s touch.
“Wait- Az, I was just playin’” Paige said, reaching over to grab Azzi’s hand to put it right back on her inner thigh.
Azzi smirked. They didn't even realize they were lost in their own world until Alex said something. “Guys, it's your turn again.”
The brunette swiped her tongue over her lips, “what’s our word?” Azzi asked. Her head was now turned to Alex who was sitting beside her looking down at her phone.
“Dancing.” Alex replied.
Azzi tilted her head to the side. “Like cute dancing or like sexy dancing,” she let out a giggle after her words at how she worded that last part.
Alex looked up at her eyes, filled with mischief, “sexy dancing,” she answered with a smirk. “It's the last round and we are tied, so you better step up.”
Paige’s heart fell to her ass at the look that was on Azzi’s face. She didn't know if she was supposed to be nervous or excited with what Azzi was thinking. The brunette took her hand off of Paige’s thigh and waved Paige to follow her with her hand to the stage.
“Before I do anything when the horn goes off are you okay with me throwing it back on you? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable.”
I would love it if you did that, Paige thought but didn't actually say. “Yeah, it's okay,” her voice was shaky.
Azzi nodded her head, biting back the laugh that was threatening to leave her lips. She loved how red Paige’s face got when she was nervous. Azzi grabbed a little at the hem of her skirt pulling it down as if it was supposed to help keep her covered when the horn went off.
Paige’s heart was beating out of her chest when the round started. She watched as Azzi bent over in front of her to where her hands were on the ground. Oh, she was being dead serious,” Paige thought when Azzi actually started throwing her ass back onto her.
Her body stilled for a second, just watching the sight in front of her in awe. Fuck it, Paige thought. She ground her hips forward with her tongue sticking out a little. One of her hands did go down to tug at Azzi’s skirt trying to help her from it bunching at her waist.
Azzi let out a giggle, one of her hands went to her top to pull it up so she couldn't flash anyone her boobs. Excitement filled her body when the other islanders jumped up from the couch screaming that they won.
Paige’s arms wrapped around Azzi’s waist tugging her up so she could stand up straight. “You look like a tomato,” Azzi teased when she got a good look at Paige’s face.
“Okay but like you can’t blame me.” Paige pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. Azzi laughed at her and bumped her shoulder with Paige’s.
....
COMMENTS UNDER EPISODE FIVE OF ISLANDERS IN PARADISE
@ilovepaige: paige is so funny…she was like🧍🏼♀️for a second when Azzi started her ass back on her. 3m likes
↪️iloveazzi replied to @ilovepaige: OMG SHUT UP THAT SHIT WAS WILD. I WAS GAGGED DURING THAT ENTIRE SCENE. 700k likes
@unknown: DAMN AZZI 👀👀👀. 2m likes
@pazzilover: did you guys hear the narrator making fun of paige the whole time during the challenge 😭 that shit was so funny he had me laughing so hard. 4m likes
↪️@ilovepizza replied to @pazzilover: YES OMG. talking about ‘oh she’s not the nonchalant final boss now’ when she got flustered over Azzi dancing on her & grinding. 1m likes
↪️@secretaccount replied to @ilovepizza: he stays dissing her💀. 300k likes
@catlover69: can someone tell paige and azzi to get a room please. 3m likes
@strap67: bruh paige is so gay💀 she was having a gay panic this whole episode. 600k likes
....
Paige woke up in the morning to something crawling on her arm. The sun shined in her face causing her to move her head away from the light. For the past two days she had been sleeping in soul ties. Paige refused to share a bed with Abby since they were still paired as a ‘couple’. And also, out of hard headed-ness.
She lazily slapped at whatever was crawling on her arm. Paige was able to sleep for another five minutes before something pushed at her side. She let out a sleepy groan from something—someone—sitting on her lap with their legs on either side of Paige’s waist.
“Paige,” Azzi whispered. Her hands moved to the blonde’s face to move her hair out of her face.
The sound of Azzi’s voice caused Paige to wake up instantly. “Oh wassup mama,” she greeted. Her voice was deep and a little raspy. Paige stretched her arms above her head letting out a groan. She then wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist.
Azzi's arms were folded over her chest and a small pout was on her face. “Why are you still sleeping outside?”
Paige blinked. “Because I don't wanna share a bed with Abby. And there isn't an open bed for me to sleep in,” she replied.
“You know, you can sleep in my bed. I'm not sharing it with anyone since I'm not coupled up with anyone.” Azzi’s face burned as the words fell out of her mouth.
A sappy smile stretched on Paige’s face but then it fell when it hit her. “But there is a recoupling tonight," defeat filled Paige’s voice.
“Paige, we get to pick who we want to couple up with,” Azzi said, giving her a knowing look.
Oh. Paige thought when she finally got the hint.
“Awe you want to couple up with me and share a bed? I'm flattered,” Paige teased.
Azzi rolled her eyes. “Actually, I take it back.”
“Wait-, I was just kid-,” Paige couldn't even finish her sentence, Azzi had gotten out of her lap and walked away before she could.
The rest of the day had flown by after that. Azzi and Paige spent most of their time cuddling in soul ties getting to know each other more. The blonde had brought Azzi a plate of food while she got ready for the recoupling. Alex and Jessica let out an ‘awe’ sound causing Paige’s cheeks to heat up.
“Alright, chill,” Paige groaned out. She gave her friends a fake threatening look before she turned her attention back onto Azzi. “Here you go, I wanted to bring you something that you could munch on while getting ready.” Paige’s voice was way softer from how it was a few seconds ago.
Azzi grinned and happily took the plate from Paige’s hands. “You tryin’ to butter me up before the recoupling?” She teased. Azzi laughed a little at how Paige’s eyes widened a little out of fear.
“Relax, I was just kidding,” Azzi added before Paige could say anything. The brunette wrapped her arms around Paige’s waist to tug her closer to her body. “You’re so cute,” Azzi mumbled.
Paige let out a small groan but leaned into the hug anyways. “I think your love language is teasing people.”
Azzi’s eyebrow raised at that. “Um, it’s actually physical touch but okay.” the brunette said, before taking a bite of the pineapple that was on her plate.
Wait, that actually makes sense, Paige thought. That would explain the lingering touches. But shit, she wasn’t complaining about it, she loved it.
Azzi ended up wearing a lavender colored bodycon mini dress. The dress had a halter top with a deep v-neck while the fabric of the dress hugged Azzi’s body perfectly. She paired the outfit with white kitten heels.
For her makeup look she applied mascara and did a cute winged eyeliner. For her lips she used a gloss that tented her lips a slight dark red color. Lastly, she rubbed coconut scented lotion into her skin and sprayed her perfume.
Azzi walked over to Paige who was standing in front of a full length mirror checking herself out. The brunette wrapped her arms around Paige from behind. “You smell good,” Azzi mumbled, taking in another big inhale of the blonde’s scent.
Paige laughed. She continued to fix her blonde hair, brushing all of the knots out with a brush and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Once Paige was done, she turned around to wrap her arms around Azzi as well.
When she pulled apart from the shorter girl her eyes widened. “Holy fuck,” Paige mumbled underneath her breath. Her eyes were locked on Azzi’s sternum and half of the girl’s boobs that were on display.
Azzi followed Paige's eyes and smirked when she realized what the blonde was looking at. “You're so gay,” Azzi teased but also didn't do anything to stop Paige from checking her out.
“Yeah, I really am,” Paige mumbled, not even trying to defend herself.
The brunette laughed as she finally took in Paige’s outfit. She was wearing a basic white shirt with a blue and yellow unbuttoned flannel layered with it. Paige had on light wash baggy black jeans and finished the outfit off with yellow Onitsuka Tiger's as shoes. A tight diamond tennis chain snaked around her neck.
“You look good.”
Paige raised an eyebrow. “Just good?” she questioned, tilting her head to the side. A smug look was on her face. The look in Azzi’s eyes told Paige everything she needed to know.
“Can you guys stop with the eye fucking for once? I think It's getting out of hand now,” Alex chimed in.
Paige snapped her head over to where Alex’s voice came from. “Bro-, stay in your own lane,” she weakly defended.
Alex laughed and soon went back to getting ready. Azzi looked at herself in the mirror one last time. “Wanna take a picture?” she asked Paige.
The blonde smiled brightly at her words. “Of course,” she said. Paige watched as Azzi grabbed her phone and opened up the camera app. She wrapped her arm around Azzi's waist and smiled when Azzi took the picture.
“Im definitely gonna have to ask them for this picture when the show is over,” Paige mumbled when Azzi showed her how the picture turned out. “Look at how cute your dimples are,” Paige added.
Azzi rolled her eyes acting as if Paige’s words didn’t make her heart pound in her chest. “Come on we gotta go,” she said, grabbing Paige’s hand and leading her down to the fire pit.
The brunette held Paige's hand as they sat beside each other as Ariana walked over to the fire pit. “Damn girl-, you look good,” Azzi complimented. She always loved Ariana’s outfits when she came into the villa looking hot as hell and ready to cause chaos.
Ariana smiled at Azzi. “thank you Azzi. You look absolutely stunning,” she complemented back.
“Should I be worried that you are gonna leave me for her?” Paige whispered into Azzi’s ear, but it was horrible considering everyone heard what she said.
Ariana and the other islanders laughed at Paige’s comment. The blonde blinked. What the hell is funny?, she thought. “I was being dead serious.”
Paige’s comment made the islanders laugh harder. She snapped her head over at Azzi’s when she heard the girl snickering under her breath. “Anyways, let's get started with the recoupling,” Ariana said, bringing everyone's attention back to her.
Ariana had split the islander off into two groups. Azzi was in the group that was sitting on the couch and Paige was in the other group standing beside Ariana.
“You guys get to decide who you want to couple up with and why,” Ariana said talking to the girls on the couch. “Let’s start with Azzi first,” she added, motioning the girl to stand up.
Azzi had a smile on her face as she stood up. “I would like to couple up with this person because she makes me feel seen and treats me like an actual princess. I love her little corny jokes even though I act like I don't like them.”
“I fucking knew you thought I was funny,” Paige mumbled under her breath causing a few people—including Azzi to laugh.
“I can actually see myself being with this person outside of the villa. And I am so excited to just learn every little thing about this person and for our connection to continue to grow. So, the person I'm picking is… Ale- no I'm kidding, is Paige.” Azzi cheesed at the blonde watching as Paige basically ran over to her and wrapped her arms around her waist.
The islander clapped as Paige pressed a few kisses onto Azzi’s cheek. “You like me,” the blonde sang. Paige had a small grin at how flustered Azzi looked. "And that Alex thing was not fucking funny."
Azzi rolled her eyes. She then sat back down in her seat and moved closer to Paige when she did the same thing. Azzi interlocked their hands and leaned her head onto Paige’s shoulder.
The rest of the recoupling went by fast. The whole time Azzi was in her own world thinking about Paige. The tips of her fingers traced over Paige’s knuckles and the veins that were popping out of her skin.
“I like your hands,” Azzi blurted out.
Paige smirked. “Oh, you do? Wanna elaborate on why you like them?” She teased.
Azzi pouted. “No, because if I did that it would boost your ego more.
After the recoupling Azzi was stopped by Mark as she was making her way to the dressing room. “Hey, sorry Azzi, it's time to do your confessional.”
The brunette nodded her head and allowed him to lead the way to the room. Azzi fixed her hair a bit as she waited for Mark to finish all of the camera and mics up.
When she got the go ahead signal she started talking. “Guys, I think I like Paige." Azzi giggled. Her face was a little pink as she continued talking. “Well I already knew I liked her, but I think my feelings for her are growing.”
Azzi let out a sign. “Paige is just so cute. I love how I can actually see how happy she gets when she’s around me. She honestly reminds me of a golden retriever from how she acts. Fuck I think I’m down bad,” she groaned putting her face in her hands.
“You are,” Mark chimed in.
Azzi looked up at him and gave him a look. “Do you guys think that she likes me too?” She asked the camera like it could talk back to her. Azzi then looked away from the camera to look at Mark.
The guy put his hands up in surrender. “I just work here,” he said with a small laugh.
The brunette's confessional ended after another minutes of Azzi ranting about how blue Paige’s eyes were. When she got to the dressing room she quickly did her night routine. Her legs felt heavy as she made her way over to her bed that Paige was already laying in.
“Hey mama. How did your confessional go?” Paige asked. Her voice was tired and filled with sleepiness.
“It went okay. Mark is not my friend anymore though,” she grumbled out as she got under the covers. Azzi tangled her and Paige’s legs together and moved her head onto Paige’s chest.
Paige let out a small laugh. “Why?”
“I was trying to ask him a really important question and he wouldn't give me an answer,” the pout on her face turned into a smile when Paige started to rub her back.
“What was the question?”
Azzi’s heart dropped a little. “It's okay, don't worry about it.”
Paige let out a hum but dropped the conversation. Instead, she cuddled Azzi closer to her when the nights turned off and closed her eyes. Azzi snuggled her head even more into Paige’s chest falling asleep listening to the blonde’s soothing heartbeat.
....
COMMENTS UNDER EPISODE SIX OF ISLANDERS IN PARADISE
@pazzi4life: Azzi and Paige’s relationship make me feel so single, like damn no need to rub it in 2m likes
@azzilover: GOD AZZI LOOKED SO GOOD IN THAT DRESS🤭 1.5m likes
↪️ilovepaige replied to azzilover: YESS #needdatsobad 400k likes
@random223: Azzi’s confessional was so cute and her speech at the recoupling was soooo tea. 2m likes
↪️azzilover replied to random223: yes bro it’s the way that you can see how down bad they are for each other from their eyes. 600k likes
paige5: I love Azzi and Paige’s dynamic so freaking much. (I’m only watching the show for them💀) 5m likes
↪️azzi535 replied to paige5: REAL OMG. 700k likes
@randombot: Azzi saying that her love language is physical touch makes so much sense now. 500k likes
....
“What do you miss most from outside the villa?” Azzi asked. She was currently chopping up a dragon fruit for her and Paige to snack on.
“Blue. I miss him so much. The pictures I brought of him are not doing anything anymore. I can’t wait to see him when I get home.” Paige said. A hint of sadness filled her voice, her heart aching.
“Who’s watching him right now?”
“My friends. They were bullying the hell out of me the day before I left. I had given them a full binder on how to take care of Blue.” Paige said with a small laugh at the memory.
Azzi looked up at Paige with a smile. She pressed a small kiss onto the side of the blonde’s face that was a little red. “Did you put on sunscreen today?” She asked. Paige’s cheeks were more redder than usual.
“My face isn’t red from the sun.”
It took Azzi a second to understand what Paige meant. “You are so cheesy,” she said, bumping her shoulder with Paige’s.
Paige laughed. “You love it though. What do you miss outside of the villa, baby girl?” she asked before stealing a slice of the dragon fruit on the cutting board.
Azzi’s face burned at the nickname. Her heart fell to her stomach. “That's a new nickname.”
The blonde froze. “Do you like it?” Paige searched Azzi’s eyes looking for any sign of un-comfortableness.
“Mhm. I really like that nickname.” Azzi mumbled out. To hide how pink her face was she tilted her head down and continued to work on chopping the half dragon fruit.
Both of the girl’s bodies shot up when Abby screamed that she got a text. Paige took a few slices of the fruit before she followed Azzi over to the circle of people. “What does it say?” Alex asked, her arm was wrapped around Jessica.
“Islanders, please start getting ready for tonight’s challenge. I hope you guys are ready to spark someone's heart rate😏🔥” Abby read out the text.
Azzi squealed a little bit beside Paige. “I’m actually really excited for this challenge.” Azzi was more excited to see Paige’s reaction of seeing her in a sexy lingerie.
“Oh fuck, I’m not gonna make it,” Paige groaned. She could already imagine herself dying with Azzi in her lap looking breathtaking.
The brunette grinned. “Yeah, you aren’t,” she confirmed. Azzi held onto Paige’s arm as she led the way to the dressing room. Paige’s heart was pounding in her chest for some reason she had a feeling that she was gonna lose her pride tonight.
Azzi and Paige ended up getting split up when they made it to the room. The reason being that they didn’t want Paige’s group to see the other girls lingerie's considering it was a surprise.
Paige was wearing black Nike NRG pants paired with a black compression shirt. Her hair was again in a slick back bun, mainly because she caught Azzi staring a little too long at her side profile the other night, with dark mascara coating her lashes, some already smudging beneath her eyelids. The same diamond tennis chain snug on her collarbone.
She was sitting in the lounge area behind the fire pit. Her legs were man-spread and one of her hands rested in her lap. She tried her best to look calm and relaxed even though her mind was racing with all types of thoughts.
Paige’s eyes were locked on the door that the other girls were supposed to come out in. She bit the inside of her cheek and looked over at Alex who was a few inches away from her.
“I’m nervous.” Paige murmured out.
“Bro me too,” Alex agreed. Some of the other islanders nodded their heads in agreement as well.
The first girl to walk out was Jessica. She was in a cat costume and her brown hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. Paige looked over at Alex, instantly clocking the shocked expression on the girl's face.
Paige let out a laugh. Alex snapped her head over at Paige. “I know you are not laughing right now.” She said, narrowing her eyes.
The blonde just let out another giggle. But it instantly stopped when Jessica was now standing in front of her. Paige raised her brow.
Jessica made a small noise with her mouth and leaned forward. The kiss was short and after a second paige pulled away. The blonde whipped her mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” Jessica apologized.
“It’s okay.” Paige responded. She felt everything but okay.
All of the girls on the couch including Jessica looked at the screen in front of them. The TV showed everyone’s heart rate and out of everyone Paige’s was the lowest.
Paige looked down at the pulse oximeter on her finger and then back up on the screen. She watched as Jessica went to go take a seat over at another lounge area that was on the side of them.
The next girl who walked out was Abby. Paige instantly rolled her eyes at the girl and looked away. Her nose scrunched a little at the kissing noises coming from Abby and Sadie. She side eyed Alex causing them both to laugh.
The blonde's heart dropped when she realized it was her turn. Fuck my life, Paige thought as Abby walked over to her. Paige’s face scrunched in disgust when Abby climbed in her lap and grabbed onto the sides of her face.
When Abby leaned in for a kiss, Paige turned her head just in time. Abby ended up kissing her cheek instead of her lips. “Okay-, yeah I don’t want you touching me anymore, get off.” Paige grumbled, trying to lightly push the girl off of her.
“Ugh-,” Abby mumbled. She got out of Paige’s lap and looked at the screen.
The highest heart rate was Sadie’s and the lowest was Paige’s. As everyone waited for the next person to come out, Paige rubbed the side of her face hard trying to get Abby’s lip gloss off of her skin.
Paige relaxed her body further into the seat, trying to get more comfortable. Her blue eyes widened when she saw it. Azzi walked over to them in a nurse costume. The brunette shirt was cropped and stopped just underneath the band of her bra. The shirt was tied together in the valley between her breasts.
There were two hearts on each side of the shirt that were placed right in front of her breasts. In the middle of the hearts were white plus signs used as a hospital logo. Her bottoms were just a matching thong with the same red heart placed just above her heat.
Azzi swayed her hips as she walked over to the group. “Does anyone need some assistance?” she teased with a giggle. She couldn't even take herself seriously right now.
“I think Paige needs some assistance,” Alex said, nodding her head over to the girl who was bright red.
Azzi smirked and walked over to Paige. She reached out to grab the side of Paige’s face as she straddled the girl's lap. The blonde wrapped her arms around Azzi’s waist instantly, tugging the girl closer to her.
The brunette tugged Paige's face closer to hers to interlock their lips. Paige hummed into the kiss. Azzi ground her hips onto Paige's lap just so the girl could moan into her mouth. And it worked but what surprised Azzi was the way Paige was trying to encourage her to keep grinding like they didn't have an audience.
The brunette ran her tongue over Paige’s bottom lip, asking for entrance which Paige gave her. Azzi shoved her tongue into Paige’s mouth and tangled their tongues together. When she pulled away Paige's lips were swollen and coated in her lip gloss.
“Do you still need some assistance?” Azzi asked into the blonde’s ear.
Paige nodded her head and moved her hands to Azzi’s ass. This time the kiss was way more passionate and deep. Paige held onto the side of the brunette’s half and tilted it to deepen the kiss more.
Her heat was pounding in her chest. Paige’s mind was fuzzy from how soft Azzi’s lips felt against hers. Her hands on Azzi’s ass tightened causing the girl in her lap to whimper. Paige swallowed the sound out of hunger.
This time she had to pull away from Azzi’s lips. Her lungs were on fire from the lack of oxygen. While Paige tried to catch her breath she felt Azzi’s swollen lips against her ear.
“I don’t like how Abby was in my spot.” She grumbled.
Paige bit back a laugh. “Oh? My lap is your spot now? Damn mama I didn’t know you were possessive.” she teased. Just when Paige was about to make another comment Azzi sunk her teeth into the side of her neck as a warning.
“Yes it is unless you don’t want it to be.”
Paige’s heart dropped. “No-, wait I was just kidding. You're the only person who can straddle my lap now.” She said with a smirk on her face.
“So um, thank you for the show I guess,” Alex teased.
The blonde groaned. She buried her head into Azzi’s boobs without thinking. Azzi laughed and rubbed the side of Paige’s shoulder.
“You’re welcome,” Azzi teased back. She gave Alex a playful wink and let out another laugh.
....
COMMENTS UNDER EPISODE SEVEN OF ISLANDERS IN PARADISE
@bot23: god damn that make out was crazy 2m likes
↪️Azzi4paige replied to bot23: when I tell you my mouth dropped at that scene 700k likes
@azzilover: azzi looked so tea in that nurse outfit 1.5m likes
↪️paigelover replied to azzilover: paige is so freaking lucky and she knows it 800k likes
@random: I just wanna know what paige did to the narrator 😭 he’s always coming out for her 1m likes
@womenlover: Alex is so damn funny💀 her comments always makes me laugh 600k likes
@girlkisser: BRO THAT SCENE OF POSSESSIVE AZZI?!?! 2.5m likes
↪️random replied to girlkisser: and to think i thought Azzi couldn’t get hotter 1m likes
@pazzistan: I would be lying if i said I didn’t replay paige and Azzi’s make out AT LEAST once 800k likes
↪️ilovepazzi replied to pazzistan: I literally screamed when everything went down😭😭 300k likes
....
Paige and Azzi laid beside each other by the pool. The brunette was laying on her stomach and Paige was rubbing sun screen into her back. Today, Azzi was wearing a cute little light pink bikini and Paige was wearing a sage green bikini top, matching shorts.
The blonde's brows frowned in concentration while she rubbed the liquid into Azzi’s skin. “You know, I would like to make breakfast for you one morning.” Azzi said, breaking the silence between them.
“Really?” Paige asked. She was honestly taken aback by Azzi’s words. No one has ever offered to do something nice for her before unless she had to ask them to.
Azzi rested the side of her face on her arms. Her head was turned to look at Paige. “Yeah. What do you want for breakfast tomorrow?”
A big smile stretched on Paige’s face. “Can you make me some pancakes please? And scrambled eggs with cheese in it.” She asked. Paige took her hands off of Azzi’s back to squirt more liquid into her hands.
Paige massaged the sunscreen into Azzi’s back and shoulders. Azzi let out a small moan when Paige massaged over a tender spot on her shoulder.
The blonde's face and neck burned at the noise. Paige’s throat bobbed and she stilled her hands. “No-, keep going, that feels good.” Azzi mumbled.
“That’s what she said.”
Azzi narrowed her eyes at paige. “Really?” she groaned. Azzi had to hide the smile that was threatening to form on her face when Paige burst out laughing.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I just couldn’t help myself.” Paige choked out, grinning.
Azzi rolled her eyes. “You’re such a little kid,” she groaned.
Paige just smirked and went back to rubbing the lotion into the brunette’s back. “Alright let’s switch now, it’s your turn,” Azzi said once Paige was done.
The blonde raised an eyebrow. “I don’t need sunscreen,” she tried to argue.
Azzi reached out to touch Paige’s arm that was already red. “Stop being hard headed and let me put sunscreen on you,” she said as she got up from laying on her stomach.
Paige rolled her eyes but did as Azzi told her to do anyways. But instead of laying on her stomach she laid on her back. “Why are you laying on your back? You can do your front, I need to do your back.”
The blonde grinned. “But I want you to do my front and back,” she said. Paige looked up at Azzi with pleading eyes and her lip rolled out a little bit.
She’s not slick, Azzi thought but didn’t say it. She just smirked and nodded her head. Azzi squirted some of the sunscreen into her hand and started on Paige’s shoulders. She went down to her arms and stopped when she had to do Paige’s neck and chest.
“Do you want me to do that part or do you wanna do it?” She asked, referring to Paige’s neck and chest.
“You can do it,” Paige responded, fighting back a grin.
Azzi’s cheeks were slightly pink as she rubbed sunscreen on the light red color skin on Paige’s neck. Her throat went dry when her hands moved down to Paige’s chest, rubbing the liquid over the blonde’s collarbone and down to her sternum.
She bit her bottom lip until it ached. Azzi ran her hands up and down the middle of Paige’s chest and in between the girl’s boobs. When she looked up, Azzi was met with Paige’s eyes that were low and hooded.
The brunette’s breath was caught in her throat. Azzi didn’t look away from Paige’s heated gaze. “Can I kiss you?” Paige whispered, so low that not even the microphones could catch it quite well.
Azzi nodded her head and leaned forward. One of Paige's hands held the side of Azzi’s face while Azzi’s hand stayed on Paige’s chest. The kiss was more soft and slow then the kisses they shared during the challenge.
Paige let out a hum, sucking on Azzi’s bottom lip before she pulled away. The blonde smirked at how dazed Azzi looked after that kiss. The brunette leaned forward to place another kiss onto Paige's cheek and the corner of her mouth.
“Okay, let me do the rest of your body before you turn even more red,” Azzi said. Her eyes dropped down to Paige’s stomach as she coated her hand in suntan lotion. She reached out slowly, rubbing the liquid onto Paige's abs and her sides.
Paige tightened her core at the feeling of Azzi’s hand on her body. Her eyes were locked on the side of Azzi’s face watching as the girl bit her lip and her cheeks flushed. “You like them?” she asked, the question was stupid she already knew how much Azzi loved her abs.
Azzi just let out a small hum and nodded her head. “You can do the rest of your body. I think if I keep doing it, I'm gonna lose my mind,” she explained, earning a small giggle for Paige.
The blonde’s shoulders fell when Mark came into her view. God dammit, Paige thought. Of course he has to ruin the moment.
Before Mark even opened his mouth Paige got up. “I know it’s about time for my confessional,” she sighed.
Paige looked at Azzi one last time before she walked over to Mark. “I hate how great your timing is,” she grumbled.
Mark laughed. “I’m just doing my job,” he playfully argued back. The blonde just rolled her eyes and followed him into the confessional room.
Paige played with the mic necklace as she waited for Mark to finish getting everything set up. She sat up straighter when she got the go ahead signal to start talking.
“Guys I got my kiss. And I know me and Azzi have kissed a lot, but this one was really soft. It also happened outside of a challenge,” Paige giggled. "Score!" she pumped her fist in the air, then back down.
Mark rolled his eyes from behind the camera. “And oh my god have y'all seen her bellybutton piercing? I swore my heart fell to my ass when I saw it for the first time. Like this girl has an amazing smile, dimples, and a belly button piercing. I'm so cooked.” paige groaned putting her face into her hands.
Mark nodded his head in agreement. He held back his laugh as he watched Paige express her feelings she had towards Azzi.
—
COMMENTS UNDER EPISODE EIGHT OF ISLANDERS IN PARADISE
@Pazzilover69: paige is so smart when it comes to her making up ideas on how to get Azzi to touch her💀 2m likes
↪️unknown replied to Pazzilover69: yes!! Like how does she come up with this shit💀 650k likes
@Azziissocute: paige and azzi are so cute🥹 ugh they are my fav couple (but also not a couple) in the villa 1.67m likes
@Random: The way they're both so insanely down bad for one another and they don't know bc they can't see each others confessionals 😂 600k likes
@Azzilover: I literally felt like I was third wheeling pazzi during that sunscreen scene 😭 2m likes
↪️random34 replied to Azzilover: yes!! I was like damn just get a room already 800k likes
↪️Azzilover replied to random34: they are so cute but also freaky at the same time 400k likes
authors note: please tell me your thoughts on this chapter!! (I’m literally begging) also everyone needs to thank Pat for this amazing editing🙂↔️
synopsis: sometimes love is waiting patiently at the end of a road you never planned to travel. and the person who helps you survive your darkest days becomes the reason you start looking forward to brighter ones.
cw: none
wc: 2k
chapter five:
Azzi doesn’t know what surprises her more; that she agreed to dinner with Paige and her wife in the first place, or that she’s actually enjoying it.
When she pulls up to the blue, Craftsman-style two-story home, she half expects something sleek and modern, with sharp-edges that is unmistakably architect-designed. Instead, the house leans into warmth and history. Ornate trim frames the deep front porch, flower beds are meticulously maintained, and the landscaping looks neat. It has character, and is certainly well cared for.
It makes Azzi wonder which of them is the perfectionist.
Based on her limited time with Paige, she would’ve pegged the blonde as more carefree. After all, she’s the one who ended up stranded in the middle of a German winter with no idea how to get back to her hotel. Then again, traveling abroad does change people. Azzi knows that better than most.
Paige answers the door almost immediately, barely giving Azzi time to knock before ushering her inside. The warmth hits her all at once. Not just from the heat, but from the mouthwatering smell of whatever is roasting in the kitchen. Whatever it is, it makes her stomach tighten with hunger.
Azzi slips off her boots in the foyer and takes a moment to look around.
The house feels lived in. Wedding photos line the walls. Ceramic mugs sit stacked neatly on an open shelf. Paige’s boots are kicked off near the door like she never bothers putting them away properly. It’s a home in a way Azzi doesn’t quite know how to sit with.
Probably because it makes her acutely aware of her own situation. Back in her parents’ house in her late twenties, still living out of boxes. She pushes the thought aside quickly.
Hopefully it’s temporary.
Emma appears from the kitchen, apron tied crookedly around her waist, black leggings and an oversized sweater dusted with flour. What catches Azzi off guard isn’t the outfit. It’s how effortlessly beautiful she is. Emma is a complete contrast to Paige, and somehow, they fit together perfectly. Paige is tall, with sharp angles and an athletic build. Emma is petite, softer, with dark green eyes, pale freckled skin, and black hair that falls loose around her shoulders.
Azzi extends a hand in greeting, but Emma pulls her into a warm hug instead. It catches Azzi off guard, but she doesn’t resist. There’s no awkwardness to it.
They settle into the living room, the fire crackling softly. At first, the quiet presses in, and Azzi finds herself nervously tugging at the hem of her cropped black sweater. The tension fades quickly, though as small talk turns easy. They laugh about Paige’s first night in Munich. Emma shares a story about their honeymoon, how Paige refused to ask for directions, convinced they’d be kidnapped if they strayed too far from the resort.
By the time Emma disappears back into the kitchen, Azzi realizes she’s relaxed, and she honestly didn’t expect that.
Emma returns a few minutes later, apron still on, interrupting a heated but playful debate between Azzi and Paige about men’s soccer.
“Are you two ready for dinner?” Emma asks.
Paige turns to her wife first, grinning wide and unguarded. Azzi watches the way her entire face softens when Emma enters the room. The look of someone completely, undeniably in love is unmistakable.
Azzi swallows, the familiar ache settling in her chest. She remembers that feeling. Or at least, she remembers believing in it once.
“Of course! I’m starving,” Paige says, rubbing her stomach dramatically before turning to Azzi. “You ready?”
The smell from the kitchen makes her smile. “I’ve heard a great deal about how legendary this pot roast is, Emma.”
Trailing behind them into the dining room, Azzi takes in the table. Gray place settings sit atop light blue woven placemats, and pink lilies are nestled in a crystal vase at the center. Her smile lingers when she recognizes them as the same flowers she handed Paige at the door, now arranged carefully.
“Paige, you sure know how to put the pressure on me,” Emma laughs, shooting her wife a playful look before turning to Azzi. “I apologize in advance if it’s not world-class.”
Azzi chuckles as she takes her seat. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
Truthfully, the bar is low. In Germany, her version of home cooking involved poorly executed pasta and microwaved leftovers. Her teammates banned her from cooking entirely after a food poisoning incident she prefers not to think about. Cottage cheese and fruit became her staples after that.
“What can I get you ladies to drink?” Paige asks.
Azzi sits up suddenly. “That reminds me! I brought my favorite bottle of wine from Germany.”
She retrieves it from her bag, offering it to Paige with a grin. Paige accepts it gratefully and pulls out two glasses, but before she pours, Azzi notices Emma’s expression change. A glance passes between them. Emma’s hand drifts to her stomach.
“As much as I’d love some,” Emma says gently, “I don’t think this little one would appreciate it.”
It takes Azzi a second but then the information clicks into place.
“Oh my god,” she breathes, her face breaking into a genuine smile. “Congratulations.”
Paige kisses the top of Emma’s head before pouring wine for herself and Azzi.
“It’s still early,” Paige says. “You just tempted her into spilling the secret.”
Azzi lifts her glass. “I’m really happy for you.”
She means it. Even if some quiet part of her feels like she’s witnessing something sacred. Something she no longer trusts herself to hope for. The way Paige and Emma exist together, the softness and certainty, fills the room. She should’ve noticed sooner, honestly. Emma’s glow isn’t just from being in love.
Dinner passes quickly. The food is good, wine disappears faster than expected, and laughter comes easily. Before Azzi realizes how late it’s gotten, she’s sprawled on the leather loveseat, sinking into the cushions.
Across from her, Paige and Emma curl together on the couch, a fleece blanket draped over Emma as her head rests in Paige’s lap.
Azzi watches them for a moment, trying to keep her mind from wandering dangerous places.
“That was delicious,” Azzi murmurs, pulling her focus back to the present. “Thank you so much for dinner, Emma.”
Before Emma can respond, Paige pouts dramatically. “Hey, what about me?”
Azzi smirks. “Thanks for pouring the wine?”
Emma grins, lifting her head slightly to shoot Azzi a conspiratorial wink. “I like this one, Paige.”
Paige groans, running a hand through her messy blonde waves. “I see how it is.”
They settle into an easy lull, conversation tapering off into something quiet and comfortable. Dinner sits heavy and warm in Azzi’s stomach, making even laughing feel like too much effort.
After another half hour, Emma’s yawns grow deeper. Her body sinks further into Paige’s lap, eyelids fluttering as she fights sleep. Paige watches her with open fondness, brushing a few stray hairs from her face, blue eyes tracing the soft curve of her jaw. The firelight has flushed Emma’s cheeks pink.
“Why don’t you head up to bed?” Paige murmurs. “I’ll clean up down here and be up in a few, okay?”
Emma nods, stretching before taking Paige’s offered hand to stand. Azzi notices the way Paige steadies her without thinking, fingers lingering just long enough to make sure she’s balanced. When Emma turns toward Azzi, her smile is warm.
“It was really nice meeting you, Azzi.”
There’s something in her tone that makes Azzi pause. This isn’t polite hostess kindness. Emma seems genuinely glad she came. It makes sense, Azzi supposes. Emma has roots here—family, familiarity, safety. Paige doesn’t. Azzi can tell this move has weighed on Paige more than she lets on, and it’s clear Emma knows it too.
“Thank you for rescuing my helpless wife from the streets of Munich,” Emma adds, smirking.
Azzi chuckles as Emma leans in for a hug. It’s tighter than she expects, but comforting. She hugs her back without hesitation.
“I hope to see you again soon,” Emma says, pulling away. She tugs her cardigan tighter as a draft slips through the room, kisses Paige’s cheek, and whispers, “See you upstairs,” before heading toward the stairs.
Azzi watches Paige’s eyes follow her until she disappears from view.
She remembers loving someone like that. Watching them until the last possible second, just in case they turn back around. That was another life, though.
With a sigh, Azzi forces the thought away before Lucina’s name can settle too deeply in her mind.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” Paige says quietly. “We haven’t gotten out much since moving, but I know Emma enjoyed the company.”
Azzi meets her gaze. The firelight flickers in Paige’s eyes, and for a split second, Azzi is pulled backward—to another fire, another apartment, and a different set of blue eyes glowing with heat and promise. She shoves the memory away.
“I had a good time too,” she says in a soft voice.
She hopes Paige doesn’t catch the surprise in her tone. If she does, she doesn’t let it show.
They sit in silence after that. The fire crackles steadily, but Azzi suddenly feels overheated, unsure if it’s the room or the way Paige looks at her. It doesn’t feel assessing or flirtatious, but Azzi can’t really get a read on it.
Finally, Azzi shifts, breaking eye contact. Something tightens in her chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome. Maybe it’s the intimacy of the house. The way love exists so easily here. Something she once had. Something she lost. It starts to feel suffocating.
“I should get going,” Azzi says, pushing herself up off the couch.
Paige nods. “Let me walk you out.”
Azzi grabs her bag while Paige disappears into the kitchen, returning with a neatly packed container of leftovers. Azzi laughs softly as she accepts it.
“Thanks.”
Outside, the air is crisp, cutting through the warmth clinging to her skin. Crickets hum softly, leaves rustling in the distance. They walk toward Azzi’s car at a leisurely pace, neither of them rushing.
Azzi realizes how light she’s felt tonight. How easy it’s been. How much she doesn’t want to go back to being alone with her thoughts—or her parents and Dateline—just yet.
At the car, she hesitates. She should say something. She could joke about the cracker aisle, or Munich, or really anything to break this strange quiet. Instead, she just looks at Paige and realizes too late that she’s been staring.
Paige clears her throat. “Well… thanks again for coming.”
She opens the door for Azzi, and Azzi drops her gaze, suddenly aware of the tension humming between them, wondering if she’s the only one feeling it.
“Of course,” Azzi says.
She slides into the driver’s seat, hands gripping the wheel. The keys sit in the ignition, untouched. She doesn’t know why she’s delaying. Maybe because she’s been drifting since coming home, waiting for something to anchor her again. Maybe because tonight made her feel normal.
Paige leans down slightly, resting lazily against the doorframe. “Goodnight, Azzi. Get home safe.”
Azzi nods, managing a small smile. “Goodnight.”
Paige closes the door gently. The engine hums to life, headlights illuminating the quiet street as Azzi pulls away. Paige watches until the taillights disappear, only exhaling once the last trace of exhaust fades into the night.
They talked about books first, then music, then terrible coffee-shop jobs and strange childhood memories. Paige learned Azzi liked thunderstorms but hated lightning.
Azzi learned Paige secretly wrote poetry in the backs of notebooks she never showed
anyone.
When the conductor came by to check tickets, he frowned.
"Silver Pines?" he asked. "Not many people head there anymore."
Paige looked up. "You're going there too?"
Azzi held up her ticket. "Looks like it."
Silver Pines was the kind of mountain town people forgot existed. One bookstore. One grocery store. One café with flickering lights and crooked menus.
Paige was moving there temporarily to stay with her aunt after dropping out of college.
Azzi was there because her grandmother had gotten sick and needed help running the family bookstore.
The coincidence felt strange.
By the time the train arrived near midnight, they were walking side by side through the cold mountain air like they'd known each other longer than six hours.
"Need help?"
She turned to find Azzi standing beside her with one eyebrow raised.
"With what?"
"You look approximately three seconds away from dropping that suitcase on your foot."
Paige laughed despite herself.
"I'm managing."
"Debatable."
Together they walked through the sleeping town beneath soft yellow streetlights.
Their footsteps echoed quietly against the pavement.
Maybe because Paige didn't feel pressured to pretend around her.
Or maybe because some people simply entered your life like they'd always been meant to.
"You know," Azzi said lightly, "this town has one café, one bookstore, and approximately twelve elderly women who know everyone's business."
"Sounds terrifying."
"It is."
Paige smiled.
And Azzi smiled back so easily that Paige had to look away for a second.
AZZI POV
Azzi kept stealing glances at Paige while pretending not to.
It was embarrassing, honestly.
But Paige had this quiet sadness around her that made Azzi curious in a way she couldn't explain.
Not fragile exactly.
More like someone carrying too much alone.
When they reached the intersection near the town square, Paige stopped walking.
"This is me," she said softly, pointing toward a small house tucked behind tall cedar trees. Azzi nodded. For some reason, disappointment flickered unexpectedly in her chest.
“Oh.”
Paige noticed.
"You sound sad about it."
Azzi immediately panicked. "What? No. I mean—not sad. That sounded weird."
Paige laughed again.
Azzi decided very quickly that laugh might become her favorite sound.
"Well" Paige said, adjusting her bag,
"thanks for walking me."
"Anytime."
The word slipped out too naturally.
For a second neither of them moved.
The silence wasn't awkward.
If anything, it felt too aware.
Too full.
Finally Paige smiled softly.
"Goodnight, Azzi."
Azzi watched her disappear into the house before whispering quietly to herself:
Catholic!paige x rebellious!Azzi, catholic boarding school au
Warnings: homophobia, arguing, mental breakdowns
A/n: hi guys I am posting this a few hours early to hopefully make up for the fact that this is a rough one and y’all are probably not gonna be the happiest with me at the end and I’m sorry for that! I originally said that it was going to end happy but I kinda gave up so the chapter does end in angst! I love you, I hope you still love me and tell me your thoughts!🩷
Word count: 18k
A few days before Christmas break, Paige stood by her bed, neatly folding a thick knit sweater and placing it into her open suitcase. She smoothed her hands over the fabric, checking her mental packing list, before looking across the room at Azzi’s side.
Azzi was sitting on the edge of her mattress, slumped slightly forward with her elbows resting on her knees. She was staring aimlessly at the floor. She hadn't even pulled her own bag out of the closet yet.
Paige noticed the unusual quiet immediately. Softening, she abandoned the shirt she was about to fold and padded softly across the floor. She stepped right into Azzi’s space, opening her arms and wrapping them securely around Azzi’s shoulders.
Azzi instantly buried her face against Paige's stomach, her arms locking around Paige's waist as she held onto her tightly, letting out a long sigh.
"Hey," Paige murmured affectionately, resting her hands on the back of Azzi's neck, her fingers gently tangling into her dark hair. "What's that look for? Why are you so sad?"
Azzi’s grip tightened just a fraction, her voice muffled against Paige's sweater. "Because I'm gonna miss you, P."
Paige couldn't help the warm, breathless chuckle that escaped her lips. It was so rare to see Azzi this vulnerable, and it made her heart swell. She leaned down, pressing a sweet, comforting kiss to the top of Azzi’s head.
"Az, it's only a week and a half apart," Paige reasoned softly, her voice teasing but incredibly tender. "Ten days. That's it. It’ll go by so fast, and then we'll be right back here."
Azzi finally pulled her face away, tilting her head back to look up at Paige through her eyelashes. A stubborn, pouty frown tugged at the corners of her lips.
"Ten days is so long," Azzi mumbled, completely deadpan and entirely serious. "That’s like a thousand hours without you. It's miserable."
Paige let out another soft laugh, her fingers gently stroking the back of Azzi’s neck. She leaned down a bit closer, looking at Azzi with a warm, comforting smile.
"Think about the positives," Paige reasoned gently, trying to coax the pout off Azzi's face. "You'll actually be able to sleep in your own bed. No morning bells, no waking up at 5:30 every single day, and you get to have a few days of actual peace away from this place."
Azzi’s expression hardened slightly, the stubborn frown shifting into something much more tired. She leaned her forehead back against Paige's stomach, her voice dropping into a quiet murmur. "I don't care about the sleep, P. I just don't want to see my parents again."
The air in the room shifted, growing a little heavier. Paige’s heart ached for her, and she instinctively tightened her arms around Azzi's shoulders, holding her even closer against herself to offer whatever comfort she could.
Azzi stayed quiet for a long moment, just listening to the steady rhythm of Paige's breathing. Then, she tilted her head back up, a sudden thought striking her. "Do you have a phone at home? Like a cell phone we can use to text while we're away?"
Paige gave her a sympathetic, apologetic look, a small twist of regret in her smile. "No, I don't. You know how strict my parents are about that kind of stuff."
Azzi let out a defeated groan, her shoulders slumping as she realized she really was facing ten days of complete radio silence. "Great. This is going to be a disaster."
"Hey," Paige murmured softly, rocking Azzi gently from side to side, still refusing to let go of her. She reached up with one hand to lightly brush a curl out of Azzi's eyes, her voice dripping with an infectious, sweet optimism. "It just means we’re going to have so much to tell each other the second we get back. We can stay up all night on the first day of next semester and catch up on everything. It’ll make coming back here feel like the best thing ever."
Paige's smile widened, a bright, hopeful spark lighting up her face as another idea came to her. She shifted her hands to rest on Azzi’s shoulders, giving them a playful, encouraging squeeze while still keeping her pulled in close.
"And besides," Paige added softly, her voice taking on a warm, excited lilt. "While we’re away, we can buy Christmas gifts for each other. That could be really fun, don't you think?"
Azzi looked up at her, the stubborn cloud over her features finally starting to break. Seeing the genuine excitement in Paige’s eyes made it impossible to stay completely miserable. A small, defeated but incredibly affectionate smile finally tugged at the corner of Azzi's mouth.
She let out a soft sigh, leaning her head back against Paige's chest. "Okay," Azzi murmured quietly, her arms tightening around Paige's waist as she gave in. "Okay, that does sound pretty fun."
—
The leather seats of her parent’s car felt cold and sterile, a sharp contrast to the faded warmth of their room. Outside the windows, the gray winter highway blurred past as the car sped further away from the academy.
The silence in the vehicle was suffocating, broken only by the hum of the radio. Azzi sat slumped in the backseat, her winter coat pulled tightly around her, staring blankly out the window. Her parents sat in the front, rigid and distant.
"So, Azzi," her mother’s voice finally cut through the quiet, dripping with a rehearsed, clinical sort of interest. She didn't turn around, instead adjusting her reflection in the visor mirror. "We spoke with Sister Anne last week. She mentioned you’ve been attending mass regularly. Have you been reflecting? Do you feel like your faith has grown over the past few months?"
An amused, biting smirk immediately tugged at the corner of Azzi's mouth. She loved this part. Pushing their buttons was practically a sport to her at this point, the only enjoyable thing about dealing with them.
Azzi let out a short, dry laugh and leaned forward slightly, looking right at the rearview mirror so her father could see her eyes.
"No," Azzi said, her voice completely calm, steady, and utterly deadpan. "Not really. If anything, I think I hate God a little bit more now. And I’m definitely way gayer."
The car instantly fell into a suffocating silence. Her father's knuckles clamped hard on the steering wheel, his jaw clenching so tight a muscle twitched in his cheek.
Her mother turned around in her seat, her eyes flashing with a glare that could have cut through glass.
"You are an ungrateful little brat," her mother spat, her voice low and sharp as a knife. "We pay an obscene amount of money to keep you at that school, away from this family, just so we don't have to listen to your desperate cries for attention. You think you're being clever, but you're just proving how sick you are."
"Watch your mouth back there, Azzi," her father growled, his eyes fixed furiously on the road ahead. "Or I swear to God, I will pull over and make you walk the rest of the way in the snow. We are not dealing with your games for the next ten days."
Azzi just leaned back into the leather seat, her smirk widening into a genuine, satisfied smile.
—
The heater in the old Subaru blasted a comforting, noisy wall of warmth, a stark contrast to the biting December air outside. Unlike the tense silence of Azzi’s ride, the atmosphere here was lively.
In the front seat, Bob and Amy were practically radiating warmth, though they both had a habit of treating Paige like she was still in middle school.
"Oh, sweetie, look!" Amy turned around in the passenger seat, a massive, doting smile on her face as she handed a small thermos over the console. "I brought your favorite hot cocoa with the tiny marshmallows. You must be absolutely frozen from that dorm!"
"Thanks, Mom," Paige said, offering a soft smile as she took the thermos. She settled back into her seat, wrapping her hands around the warm metal.
Bob glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkling with pride. "So, how’s our girl doing? We’ve been dying to hear all about it. Are you and that roommate of yours getting along? You were so nervous about sharing a room when we dropped you off."
A sudden knot of anxiety tightened in Paige's stomach. The memory of Azzi wrapped around her flashed vividly in her mind.
"Um, yeah," Paige murmured, her cheeks turning a faint pink that she hoped her parents would just blame on the car's heater. "We... we get along really well, actually."
"Oh, that's wonderful, honey!" Amy beamed, clapping her hands together softly. "What’s her name? Is she nice? Do you guys study together?"
Paige swallowed hard, her heart doing a nervous little flutter against her ribs. Talking about Azzi to her parents felt like holding a beautiful, fragile secret that she wasn't entirely sure how to protect yet.
"Her name is Azzi," Paige said, her voice a little small but entirely certain. She looked out the window at the passing snow-covered trees, a soft, involuntary smile tugging at her lips. "And yeah. We're... we're really good friends."
"Azzi! What a unique name," Bob chimed in cheerfully, indicator clicking as he merged onto the highway.
"Oh, that reminds me, Amy," Bob said, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the radio. "I was talking to Miller at the office the other day. You remember his son, Liam? He just started his freshman year over at state. Sharp kid. Polite, good head on his shoulders."
Amy turned in her seat, her eyes lighting up immediately. "Oh, Liam! He’s darling, Bob. And he’s so tall now!" She turned back to look at Paige, her expression shifting into a grin. "Honey, Dad and I were thinking... when he’s back for Christmas, maybe we could invite them over for dinner? You and Liam could meet. He really would be so perfect for you."
Paige felt the hot cocoa turn in her stomach. The faint pink on her cheeks suddenly felt much warmer, driven by a sharp flash of discomfort. She thought of Azzi’s voice whispering sweet things to her before bed, the weight of her arms wrapped securely around her waist, and the certainty of how much they mean to each other.
"Um, no thank you," Paige said quickly, her voice a bit tighter than she intended. "I'm... I'm really not interested in dating right now. I just want to focus on my classes."
The cheerful atmosphere in the car instantly vanished, replaced by a wave of disappointment. Bob’s smile dropped in the rearview mirror, and Amy’s expression shifted from doting to deeply serious, exchanging a pointed look with her husband.
"Oh, Paige, sweetie," Amy began, her tone dripping with that patronizing warmth that always made Paige feel about two inches tall. "Choosing a partner isn't something you leave until the last minute."
"Your mother is right," Bob chimed in, his voice taking on the firm, lecturing tone he used whenever he thought he was imparting life wisdom. "In our family, and in our community, a young woman needs to be looking ahead. You should really be engaged by eighteen, nineteen at the absolute latest."
"Exactly," Amy nodded, reaching back to pat Paige’s knee tightly. "If you wait until you're done with school, all the good, respectable young men from good families will already be taken. We just want you to have a secure future, honey. You need to start thinking about these things now, or you're going to get left behind."
Paige stared out the window, her knuckles turning white around her thermos. The weight of her parents' expectations pressed down on her chest, making the car feel incredibly small. She didn't say another word, instead just focusing on the thought of Azzi, counting down the ten days until she could go back home.
—
The moment the car pulled into the driveway, Paige could see the front curtains twitching. Before Bob could even fully park the car, the front door of the house flew open, and a chaotic blur of winter jackets and brightly colored socks spilled out onto the porch.
"Sissy! Sissy's home!"
The chorus of high-pitched voices echoed across the snowy yard. Paige didn't even wait for her parents to grab her suitcase. She unbuckled her seatbelt, threw her door open, and stepped out into the crisp air just as the stampede hit her.
Drew reached her first, throwing his little arms around her knees with a force that nearly knocked her off balance. A second later, Lauren tackled her waist, burying her face into Paige’s winter coat, while Ryan stepped up right behind them, trying to look cool but unable to hide the massive, gap-toothed grin on his face as he threw his arms around the whole huddle.
"Whoa! Careful, guys!" Paige laughed, a pure, radiant sound that completely erased the lingering tension from the car ride. She dropped straight to her knees in the snow, wrapping her arms as wide as they could go to pull all three of them against her chest at once.
"Sissy, you were gone for a million years!" Lauren complained loudly, her voice muffled against Paige’s shoulder.
"I missed you so much," Paige murmured, her heart swelling as she squeezed them tight. She kissed the top of Lauren’s head, ruffled Ryan’s messy hair, and let Drew enthusiastically smear a sticky hand across her cheek. "I missed you guys so much. You have no idea."
"Did you bring us stuff from the school?" Drew asked, looking up at her with wide, hopeful eyes.
"Drew, let her get inside first!" Ryan scolded, though he was still clinging tightly to Paige’s arm. "Hey, Sissy, I learned how to do a kickflip on my skateboard while you were gone. You gotta come see."
"I want to see everything," Paige promised, her eyes shining as she looked at her siblings. For the first time all day, she felt a genuine wave of comfort wash over her, surrounded by the three little people who loved her unconditionally.
—
The dining room table was a chaotic, noisy affair, filled with the clinking of silverware, the passing of serving dishes, and the constant chatter of the kids. Lauren was trying to feed her peas to Drew, while Ryan was excitedly recounting his latest video game win to Bob.
Paige sat quietly in her usual spot, picking at her mashed potatoes. Her mind kept drifting back to Azzi, wondering what she was doing at that exact moment. She knew she needed to get her gift sorted out soon if she wanted to find something perfect.
Clearing her throat, Paige waited for a brief lull in the conversation before looking over at her parents.
"Hey, Mom? Dad?" Paige called out softly.
Amy looked up from cutting Drew's chicken, a warm smile instantly appearing on her face. "Yes, sweetie? What is it?"
"I was checking my syllabus for next semester, and I realized I need a couple of new textbooks before classes start back up," Paige lied smoothly, keeping her voice completely level despite the nervous flutter in her chest. "I was wondering if I could take the car tomorrow morning to go over to the store and grab them?"
In reality, the last thing on Paige’s mind was schoolwork. But she knew if she mentioned buying a gift for her roommate, her mother would lecture her about pride and how Christmas is only about Jesus.
Bob looked up from the head of the table, wiping his mouth with a napkin and nodding approvingly. He loved anything that showed academic initiative.
"Of course," Bob said cheerfully. "The keys will be on the kitchen counter. Just make sure you drive safe, alright? The roads might be a little slick."
"I will. Thanks, Dad," Paige said, letting out a quiet breath of relief.
—
The bright, pink-hued glow of the Victoria’s Secret storefront cut through the crowded, festive bustle of the mall. Paige stopped dead in her tracks.
She had never stepped foot inside a Victoria’s Secret. Growing up, every time they walked past it, her mother would pull her away, muttering fiercely about how the store was "disgusting, trashy, and sinful." The heavily scented air of perfume and the giant, glossy photos of models in lingerie always felt like forbidden territory.
But as Paige stood there, staring at the manicured displays, she wasn't thinking about her mother's rules. She was thinking about Azzi. She knew for a fact that Azzi wore their nightgowns to sleep every single night.
Paige hesitated, her heart hammering against her ribs. She took one step back, the familiar guilt whispering in her ear. Biting her lip, Paige took a deep breath and finally crossed the threshold into the store.
The sheer volume of silk, lace, and fragrance was instantly overwhelming. Paige wandered aimlessly through the rows of black and red satin, looking thoroughly terrified and completely lost.
"Hi there! Can I help you find something today?"
Paige practically jumped. A friendly sales associate with a warm smile and a lanyard had stepped up beside her. The worker took one look at Paige’s wide, nervous eyes and her expression softened with understanding.
"Are you shopping for yourself today, or looking for a gift?" the worker asked gently, keeping her tone completely casual and non-judgmental.
"A... a friend," Paige stammered, her cheeks instantly flushing a deep, fiery red.
The associate nodded knowingly, resisting the urge to push or ask too many questions. "Great! Friends are the best to shop for. What kind of style does she usually like? We have everything from loungewear to more delicate pieces."
Paige swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak up. She wanted to get this exactly right for Azzi. "Um, she wears the... the lace and silk nightgowns from here. To sleep in. I wanted to get her a new one for Christmas, but I don't really know where to look."
"Oh, you came to the right spot then," the associate smiled, her tone warm and completely easygoing as she turned and gestured for Paige to follow her. "Our slips are right back here in the lounge section."
Paige followed her through the maze of pink tables, her heart still doing a nervous flutter in her chest. The worker led her to a beautifully lit wall lined with rows of delicate, shimmering fabrics that caught the light with every movement. "Here we go. I'll leave you to browse for a bit, but just let me know if you need help finding a specific size, okay?"
"Thank you," Paige whispered, breathing a small sigh of relief as the worker stepped away, giving her some space.
Paige nervously stepped closer to the rack, her fingers brushing over the smooth fabrics. She slid a few hangers aside, looking at the different colors, until her eyes locked onto one piece in particular.
It was a tiny, silk nightgown in a stunning, pale lavender. The material was incredibly soft, featuring intricate, delicate lace detailing along the neckline and the low-cut back.
A sudden wave of heat rushed straight to Paige’s face. She stared at the slip, her mind instantly spinning. What if I buy this and Azzi thinks it’s stupid? she worried, a familiar knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. What if she thinks it’s not meaningful enough? Like I didn't put enough thought into it? She bit her lip, almost putting the hanger back on the rack. She didn't want Azzi to think she was being silly. But as she looked at the fabric, she couldn't deny how much she loved it. Purple was her favorite color. And more than anything, a small, breathless thought echoed in the back of her mind; she wanted to see Azzi wearing it. She wanted to be back in their room, watching Azzi slide into this exact nightgown before settling down in bed beside her.
Overriding her nerves, Paige firmly gripped the hanger, a shy but determined smile breaking across her face. She walked straight up to the cash register to buy it before she could talk herself out of it.
—
Paige stepped out of the store, the pink shopping bag swinging against her leg. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid thumping of her heart. She looked down at the bag, and a wave of second-guessing washed over her.
The nightgown is pretty, she thought, a little flare of anxiety rising in her chest, but is it enough? She needed something that showed Azzi just how deeply she cared, something personal that they could share.
Paige stood in the middle of the mall concourse for a moment until her eyes landed on a specialty bookstore a few storefronts down. A sign in the window caught her eye: Custom Leather Goods & On-Site Engraving. Her heart did a happy little flip. She knew Azzi loved to write; whether it was scribbling down thoughts, or just venting on paper. And she knew pink was her favorite color.
Paige walked quickly into the bookstore, navigating past the towers of bestsellers until she found the display of journals. Right in the center was a leather notebook in a gorgeous shade of light pink. The paper inside was thick and lined, perfect for Azzi's pens.
She took the journal up to the engraving counter, her fingers tracing the smooth cover.
"Hi there," the clerk smiled, pulling over a small order pad. "What can we engrave for you today? We can do full names, quotes, or initials."
"Just initials, please," Paige said, her voice soft but entirely sure. She grabbed the pen and carefully wrote down exactly what she wanted in small, elegant lettering: a+p.
She waited by the counter, watching through the glass partition as the machine carefully pressed gold foil into the pink leather. When the clerk handed it back, packaged in a neat box, Paige opened it just enough to peek inside. Seeing those tiny letters—a+p—shimmering on the front cover made her eyes shine.
It was perfect. Between the nightgown and the journal, Azzi would know exactly how much she was loved. Paige tucked the box securely into her bag, a massive, genuine smile finally breaking across her face as she headed out to the parking lot.
—
Paige sat down at her desk and pulled out a black pen. She stared at the blank paper for a long moment, her mind racing with all the things she usually kept bottled up, too shy to say out loud . Biting her lip, she pressed the pen to the page and began to write, her handwriting neat and deliberate.
Azzi,
I wanted to give you a place to write down all your thoughts, but mostly I just wanted an excuse to tell you how much you mean to me. You are my favorite person in the whole world, and the best friend I could ever ask for. School wouldn't feel like home without you in it.
Even though I’m sitting in my own room right now, I keep looking over my shoulder expecting to see you sitting on your bed, rolling your eyes at something or coming up behind me to give me a hug. Thank you for making me feel safe, happy, and cared for every day. I’m writing this and missing you like crazy already.
Love,
Paige
Paige read over the words, her cheeks burning with a deep, happy blush at the word Love. It felt so massive, so beautifully permanent, written down in black and white on the pink leather. She blew gently on the ink to make sure it was completely dry, then carefully closed the journal.
—
The door of Caroline’s Volkswagen clicked shut, cutting off the bitter December wind that swept across the crowded outdoor shopping center. Through the frosted windshield, the warm, bright lights of a local boutique jewelry store glowed invitingly.
But instead of unbuckling her seatbelt, Azzi threw her head back against the headrest, a soft, uncharacteristic sigh escaping her lips.
Caroline turned in the driver's seat, resting her elbow on the steering wheel with an amused, knowing smirk. "Alright, spill. You’ve been anxious the entire drive here. Are we going in, or are you just going to stare at the store all day?"
"It just has to be perfect, Carol," Azzi muttered, turning her head to look at her best friend. The cool, detached expression she usually wore around her parents was completely gone, replaced by a raw, desperate eagerness. "You don't understand. Paige is... she’s perfect. If I give her something stupid, I'll actually die."
Caroline chuckled, shaking her head. "I've known you for years, Azzi, and I have never seen you this stressed about a human being. Show me a picture of this girl already. You talk about her like she's an actual angel."
"Because she is," Azzi said without a shred of irony.
She quickly pulled her phone out of her pocket, her thumb flying across the screen until she opened her camera roll. She leaned over the center console, holding the screen out for Caroline to see.
The first photo was a bright, slightly blurry selfie of the two of them sitting on Paige’s bed, Paige smiling so hard her eyes were crinkled shut while Azzi was looking at the camera with a rare, genuine smile.
"See?" Azzi murmured, her voice softening into something incredibly tender as she swiped to the next one. This one was just Paige, sitting by the dorm window with a textbook in her lap, the afternoon sun catching the edges of her hair. "She’s just... stunning. Like, naturally. She doesn't even try."
Azzi swiped again, her chest tightening with a sudden, intense wave of longing as she reached her favorite photos; the ones Paige didn't know she’d taken. The screen showed a picture of Paige completely passed out, her cheek pressed heavily against Azzi’s chest, her lips slightly parted in sleep.
"She always slides over in the middle of the night and just sleeps right on top of me," Azzi whispered, her eyes fixed on the screen, a soft, helpless smile breaking across her face. "I'm used to falling asleep with her. And now my room at home is just empty. It sucks."
Caroline stared at the photo, her expression softening from teasing to deeply happy for her friend. She reached out, nudging Azzi’s shoulder gently. "Wow. Yeah, okay. She’s gorgeous, Az."
Azzi locked her phone, slipping it back into her pocket as she took a deep, steadying breath. She looked over at the jewelry store window, her jaw setting with determination. "Exactly. Which is why whatever is in that store needs to match that. Let's go."
The chime above the door rang out as Azzi and Caroline stepped into the small shop.
Azzi wandered along the counter, her eyes scanning the neat rows of velvet trays until she stopped, her gaze locking onto a small, vintage-style silver heart locket. It was delicate, hanging from a thin silver chain. It instantly reminded her of Paige; sweet, timeless, and something she could wear close to her chest every single day.
"That's a beautiful piece," the older woman behind the counter said, offering a warm smile as she carefully lifted the locket out of the case. "And if it's a gift, we actually offer custom laser engravings right on the inside. It makes it very personal."
Azzi’s heart did a strange, sudden flip. It was absolutely perfect.
She turned a sharp look toward Caroline, her walls instantly sliding back up. "Go walk around till I’m done," Azzi ordered, her tone completely deadpan but leaving no room for argument.
Caroline rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. "Fine, fine! I'll be by the rings."
Azzi turned back to the jeweler. The woman handed her a small slip of paper and a fine-tip pen. "Just write down what you'd like on the paper, and our machine can replicate your exact handwriting right onto the silver."
Leaning over the counter, Azzi pressed the pen to the paper and carefully wrote down two words in her sharp, distinct handwriting:
always yours
She handed the paper back to the jeweler, a rare, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
—
The dining room of her parents' house felt like a tomb. The only sounds were the scraping of expensive silverware against porcelain and the rhythmic, ticking clock on the mantelpiece. Azzi sat rigidly in her chair, pushing a piece of roasted chicken around her plate, her jaw set in a tight, defensive line.
Her father took a slow sip of his wine, setting the glass down with a precise, deliberate click that immediately caused the tension in the room to spike. He didn't look at Azzi, keeping his eyes fixed on the head of the table.
"So," he began. "We received the mid-semester report from the academy. Your grades are passing, but that’s not what concerns us."
Katie leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and folding her hands, her gaze cutting through Azzi like a knife. "We want to know about your living situation. Have you managed to place your... sickness... onto that roommate of yours like you planned?"
The word hit the air like a foul odor. To them, Azzi’s identity; everything she felt for Paige, was a disease, a stain that they desperately wanted passed off or buried so they wouldn't have to look at it.
Azzi’s grip on her fork tightened so hard her knuckles turned white under the chandelier light. A fierce, protective anger flared in her chest at the mention of Paige, but she forced her expression to remain entirely blank. She had spent years learning how to play their games, and she wasn't about to break now. She just needed to buy herself enough time to get back to school.
She dropped her fork, letting it clatter against the plate, and leaned back in her chair with a completely calm, deadpan expression.
"I just need a bit more time," Azzi said, her voice smooth, steady, and entirely devoid of emotion. "But don't worry. I'm making progress."
The lie tasted like ash in her mouth, but it did exactly what she wanted.
Her mother recoiled slightly, a look of physical revulsion washing over her features. She looked at Azzi as if she were looking at something rotten. "You are horrible," she whispered, her voice shaking with quiet malice. "The fact that you can sit there and talk about dragging an innocent girl down into your filth..."
"Both of you stop," her father yelled, slamming his hand flat on the table, making the wine glasses rattle. He stared at Azzi with deep, unyielding hostility. "Leave the table, Azzi. Get out of our sight."
Azzi didn't hesitate. She stood up, pulling her chair back with a loud, deliberate scrape. She didn't say another word as she turned and walked out of the dining room, her head held high. Let them be disgusted.
—
The dining room was filled with warmth that made Paige feel utterly suffocated. The table was dressed in the finest holiday linens, and the air smelled of roasted pine and expensive dinner rolls.
Sitting directly across from Paige was Liam.
He was exactly what her parents had promised; tall, clean-cut, wearing a crisp button-down shirt, and sporting a polite, rehearsed smile that seemed permanently glued to his face. His father, Bob’s coworker, was currently laughing loudly at a joke Bob had made, while Amy beamed from the foot of the table, constantly nudging the serving dishes toward the two young people.
"So, Paige," Liam said, leaning forward slightly, his eyes crinkling in a way that was supposed to be charming. "Your dad tells me you’re really focusing on your studies. I'm taking a pre-law track at state myself. It’s tough, but I think a strong foundation is everything for the success of a future family."
"Oh, isn't that wonderful, Paige?" Amy chimed in dynamically, practically vibrating with excitement. "You two have so much in common!"
Paige forced her lips into a tight, strained line that barely resembled a smile. "Yeah. Wonderful."
She hated every single second of it. Every polite nod she had to give, every time Liam looked at her with an air of expected future ownership, a wave of nausea washed through her. She kept her hands clamped tightly in her lap beneath the tablecloth, her fingers digging desperately into her own palms.
Guilt began to claw at her chest. Sitting here, playing the part of the dutiful, marriageable daughter for this boy, made her feel like a traitor. She felt like she was actively betraying Azzi just by occupying the same air as him.
Her mind flashed vividly to Azzi, If Azzi could see me right now, Paige thought, her heart hammering against her ribs in a sudden panic, she would be so angry. Azzi was currently enduring her own
awful family, and here Paige was, letting her parents parade her around like a prize for some coworker’s son.
"Paige, sweetie, Liam asked if you'd like to see a movie with him tomorrow afternoon," Amy’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, dripping with a gentle, manipulative pressure.
Liam smiled warmly, waiting for her answer.
Paige felt cold sweat break out on the back of her neck. She looked up, her gaze hardening just enough to show a flash of the spine she was building back at school.
"I can't tomorrow," Paige said, her voice a little sharper than her parents expected. "I have a lot of reading to catch up on for next semester."
The table fell into a brief, awkward lull, but Paige didn't care. She just stared at her plate, counting down the days until she could confess everything to Azzi and beg for her forgiveness.
—
The soft knock on Paige’s bedroom door was barely a warning before the knob turned. Amy stepped into the room, her smile completely gone, replaced by a tight expression of disappointment.
Paige sat at her desk, her hand instinctively resting over the desk drawer where the gifts she bought Azzi were hidden. She braced herself as her mother walked over and sat on the edge of the mattress, smoothing down her skirt with sharp, deliberate strokes.
"Paige, we need to talk about your behavior tonight," Amy began, her voice low but heavy with a patronizing lecture. "I was so embarrassed by how cold you were to Liam. He is a wonderful, respectable young man from a good family, and he was trying very hard to be polite to you. Your attitude was completely unacceptable."
The familiar weight of her mother’s expectations pressed down on the room, but for the first time, Paige felt something sharp cut through her usual compliance.
Paige turned around in her desk chair, squaring her shoulders. "I wasn't trying to be rude, Mom. I'm just not interested in him. Or anyone right now."
Amy let out a sharp, frustrated sigh. "Sweetie, we’ve already talked about this. You can't just ignore your future. Marriage isn't a hobby you pick up later; it's something you prepare for now. Your father and I are trying to guide you toward a good life."
"I don't have any interest in marriage right now," Paige said, her voice surprisingly steady, though her heart was thumping hard against her ribs. She looked her mother dead in the eye, drawing on a strength she didn't know she had. "And when I am ready for that, I don't want to marry someone you and Dad pick out for me. I want to choose my own life."
Amy froze. She sat completely still on the edge of the bed, her mouth parting slightly in sheer shock. She stared at her daughter as if looking at a total stranger.
Paige had always been the quiet, obedient child; the one who nodded softly, swallowed her own feelings, and did exactly what she was told to keep the peace. She had never spoken back, let alone drawn a line in the sand about her own future.
"I... I don't even recognize you right now, Paige," Amy said, her voice faltering as she was taken completely aback by her daughter's sudden spine. She stood up from the bed, her expression hardening into something deeply unsettled. "You are changing, and not for the better. We will discuss this with your father in the morning."
She turned and walked out, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Paige let out a long, shaky breath, her hands trembling slightly as the adrenaline faded. She opened her desk drawer and pulled out the pink notebook, tracing the engraved initials. She had defied her mother, and for the first time in her life, she didn't feel guilty. She just felt a desperate, aching need to get back to Azzi.
—
Paige hadn’t slept well, her mind tossing between the high of standing up to her mother and the terrifying dread of the conversation waiting for her downstairs.
She was just pulling a thick sweater over her head when her mother’s voice clipped through the quiet house from the bottom of the stairs.
"Paige! Come downstairs, please. You have a guest."
Paige froze, the sweater catching on her chin for a second. A guest? It was barely ten in the morning. A knot instantly formed in her stomach, heavy and cold. She smoothed down her hair, took a centering breath, and walked out of her room.
As she descended the stairs, the low murmur of voices echoed from the living room. Her father wasn't there, probably already at the office, but her mother was standing near the entryway, wearing a sharp, triumphant smile that immediately made Paige’s guard go up.
And then Paige saw him sitting on the sofa.
Liam. He was dressed in a crisp, ironed button-down shirt and nice jeans, looking every bit the perfect, traditional boy her parents desperately wanted her to marry. When he saw Paige, he stood up quickly, offering her a polite, easy smile.
"Morning, Paige," Liam said, his voice entirely too bright for how miserable Paige suddenly felt.
"What's going on?" Paige asked, ignoring his greeting as she looked directly at her mother. She tried to keep her voice steady, but the anger was already simmering just beneath the surface.
Amy clapped her hands together softly, her eyes flashing with a silent warning that told Paige exactly who was in control here. "Well, since you two didn't get a chance to talk much last night, Liam was sweet enough to drive over. He’s taking you to the movies."
Paige’s chest tightened. They hadn't even had the "discussion" with her father yet; her mother had just bypassed it entirely to force her hand.
"Mom, I can't," Paige said, her voice dropping into a tense, hard register. "I have things I need to pack and get ready for school. Winter break is almost over, and I have a lot to do."
"Oh, nonsense. Packing takes an hour," Amy dismissed smoothly, her smile never wavering, though her tone grew pointedly sharp. "You've been cooped up in your room all break, Paige. Liam already bought the tickets. It would be incredibly rude of you to waste his money and turn him down now. Wouldn't it?"
The trap snapped shut around her. Paige looked from her mother’s cold, demanding glare to Liam, who was standing there awkwardly, clearly waiting for her answer.
She was absolutely pissed. She wanted nothing more than to scream, to storm back upstairs, and to lock her door. But the reality of her situation crashed down on her. She was still under their roof. If she caused a massive scene right now in front of a guest, her mother would make her life a living hell, and worse, they might find a reason to keep her from going back to school.
She couldn't risk them taking away her ticket back to Azzi.
Paige swallowed the bitter taste of defeat, her jaw clenching so hard it ached. She forced her shoulders to drop, though her hands tightly balled into fists inside her sweater pockets.
"Fine," Paige muttered, not even trying to fake a smile. She looked at Liam, her expression deadpan. "Let me go get my shoes."
The passenger side of Liam’s car felt like a glass cage. She sat completely frozen against the leather seat, staring straight out the windshield at the grey winter roads blurring past. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her fingers practically digging into her sweater. She hadn't said a single word since they pulled out of her driveway, giving him nothing but short nods whenever he asked a basic question about the weather or traffic. She wanted to make her misery as loud and obvious as possible.
Liam cleared his throat, shifting his grip on the steering wheel. He glanced over at her, completely missing; or choosing to ignore, how uninterested Paige was.
"So," Liam started, trying to sound casual, though there was a slight edge of nervous confidence to his voice. "Your mom told me you were a little stressed about school starting back up. But I’m really glad you came out today."
Paige didn't look at him. She just let out a dry, barely audible hum, her jaw clenched tight.
Liam stopped at a red light and turned his whole body slightly toward her. He looked at her face, his eyes lingering a little too long on her features. "I know last night was kind of weird with both our parents hovering around the dinner table. It’s a lot of pressure."
For a split second, Paige thought he actually understood. She loosened her arms just a fraction, her eyes darting over to him.
But then Liam smiled, a small, self-assured smirk that made her stomach instantly turn. "But honestly? I'm really glad they set it up. I think you’re really pretty. Like, seriously. And our families already get along so well. I really think we’d make a great couple if we just gave it a shot."
The words felt slimy. Discomfort crashed over Paige, making her skin crawl. Hearing him talk about them as a couple, as if it were just some natural inevitability because their parents approved, made her feel sick.
She quickly snapped her gaze back to the window, her throat tightening so badly she could barely swallow.
"I'm really not looking for a relationship," Paige choked out, her voice stiff and entirely devoid of warmth.
Liam just let out a soft chuckle, stepping on the gas as the light turned green. "Yeah, my mom said you might say that. You're just shy. It's fine, we have plenty of time to get to know each other."
Paige didn't reply. She pressed her forehead against the cold glass of the passenger window, the knot in her stomach hardening into pure dread.
The lobby of the movie theater smelled overwhelmingly of artificial butter and stale air, but the atmosphere inside Paige’s chest was much worse. They stood in the concessions line, surrounded by the ambient chatter of weekend crowds and the flashing neon lights of the menu boards.
Liam was standing way too close to her, his shoulder practically brushing against hers as the line shuffled forward. Paige kept her eyes glued to the tiled floor, desperately wishing she could vanish.
"So," Liam started up again, leaning in so she could hear him over the crowd. "My mom was telling me that your family usually goes to the lake over the summer. That sounds like a great place to raise kids. How many do you want, anyway?"
Paige stiffened, her stomach dropping into a cold, hard knot. The question was so sudden, so wildly inappropriate for a first forced hangout, that it caught her completely off guard.
"None," Paige said bluntly, her voice flat. She didn't even look at him. "I don't want any kids."
Liam blinked, letting out a loud, condescending chuckle as if she had just made a cute joke. "Yeah, right. Every girl says that until they get married. But honestly, it’s not really up to us anyway, is it? We’re supposed to have as many children as God wills to us. It’s a blessing, and it's a woman's duty to build a family."
Paige’s jaw clenched so tightly it throbbed. A hot, angry defensive spike shot through her, but before she could even open her mouth to snap back, Liam just kept rolling right along, completely blind to the disgust radiating from her.
"That's actually why I think college is kind of pointless for women," he continued casually, shifting his weight as the line moved up one spot. He said it so effortlessly, like he was commentating on the weather. "I mean, why waste all that money on a degree when you're just going to end up staying home anyway? When I get married, I want my wife to be traditional. I want to be the provider, and I want her at home, taking care of the house and the kids. That’s just how things are supposed to work."
The words echoed in Paige’s ears, terrifying, like a prison sentence being read aloud. Her chest tightened, the air in the lobby suddenly feeling entirely too thin to breathe. She felt small, stripped of her identity, and completely trapped in a future she would rather die than live.
And in that exact moment her mind ran straight to Azzi.
The contrast was blinding. She missed Azzi so badly it felt like her lungs were aching. She missed the way Azzi looked at her; not like a prize, not like an object to fulfill a biblical checklist, but as Paige.
Azzi would never look at me like this, Paige thought, her eyes stinging with a sudden, desperate threat of tears as she stared blankly at the popcorn machine. Azzi wants me to have a future. Azzi wants me.
"Next in line, please!" the cashier called out.
Liam tapped Paige’s shoulder, a light, casual touch that made her skin crawl. "Hey, what size popcorn do you want?"
Paige didn't answer right away. She just stared ahead, swallowing down the lump of misery in her throat.
—
The theater was dark, the loud explosions and bright flashes from the screen doing absolutely nothing to distract Paige from the reality of who she was sitting next to. She sat frozen, pressing herself as far against the opposite armrest as possible, her knees pulled away from him. Every minute felt like an hour.
About halfway through the movie, Paige saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. Liam shifted in his seat, clearing his throat quietly before slowly sliding his hand over the shared armrest.
Then, his fingers brushed against the back of her hand, attempting to slide his palm over hers to hold it.
The contact felt like an electric shock of pure revulsion. Paige reacted instantly, ripping her hand away and pulling her arms tightly against her chest as if she had just been burned.
"Don't touch me," she said. Her voice wasn't a timid whisper; it was sharp, harsh, and loud enough to cut straight through the movie's audio.
Liam froze, his hand hovering in the dark. He looked at her, his face a mix of shock and immediate embarrassment. "Paige, come on, don’t be stubborn—"
"I want to go home," Paige interrupted, turning her head to glare at him through the dim light of the screen. Her voice was trembling, but it was rigid with a finality that left absolutely no room for argument. "Take me home. Right now."
"The movie isn't even half way done," Liam muttered, his tone turning sour and defensive as his ego took a hit. "You're making a big deal out of nothing."
"I am not staying here," Paige said, she stood up, not caring that she was blocking the screen for the people behind them.
Liam let out a sharp, irritated breath, realizing she was serious and that a scene in the lobby would make him look even worse. "Fine," he snapped, grabbing his jacket. "Let's go."
The ride back was dead silent, but the energy in the car had completely shifted. The awkward, condescending confidence Liam had earlier was gone, replaced by a tense, angry brooding. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring straight ahead and accelerating a little too fast down the highway.
Paige didn't care about his attitude. She didn't feel guilty, and she didn't feel small anymore. She just stared out the window, counting down the streets until she was away from him.
The tires squealed slightly as Liam slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a jerking halt right in front of Paige’s house. Paige didn't say goodbye, and she didn't look back.
She slammed the car door shut and marched up the driveway, her chest heaving with a volatile mix of adrenaline and fury.
The front door swung open, and Paige burst into the quiet foyer. Amy was sitting at the kitchen island, a mug in hand, looking up with a deeply confused expression as the digital clock on the microwave read barely twelve in the afternoon.
"Paige?" Amy asked, setting her cup down with a sharp click. "What are you doing home so early? The movie couldn't possibly be over yet. Did something happen to Liam's car?"
The complete, blissful ignorance in her mother's voice was the final straw. All the compliance, all the years of nodding politely and swallowing her own identity just to keep the peace, completely evaporated.
"I am not going on any more dates, Mom! Ever!" Paige yelled, her voice echoing loudly off the high ceilings of the entryway.
Amy’s jaw dropped, her face instantly tightening with shock. "Paige! Lower your voice—"
"No!" Paige fired back, stepping further into the kitchen, her hands shaking at her sides. "You need to stop! Stop setting me up, stop forcing these horrible people into my face, and stop micromanaging my life! I told you last night I’m not interested, and you completely ignored me!"
"How dare you speak to me like that under this roof—" Amy started, her voice rising in a defensive screech as she stood up from the barstool.
"I’m going to my room," Paige snapped, cutting her off entirely.
She spun on her heel and stormed toward the stairs, her footsteps pounding against the wooden steps. She didn't care about the consequences anymore. She didn't care about the lecture waiting for her in the morning, or how angry her father would be. She just needed to escape.
Paige threw her bedroom door open, stepped inside, and slammed it shut so hard the frame rattled. She threw the lock into place and collapsed against the wood, her strength instantly giving out as she slid down onto the carpet.
The anger that had fueled her vanished in a second, leaving behind a cold, hollow wave of panic.
Paige pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her arms as the first sob tore through her throat. She wasn't crying because of her mother, and she wasn't crying because of Liam. She was crying because of Azzi.
The terror of what this meant crashed down on her. Azzi is going to be so mad at me, Paige thought desperately, her shoulders shaking violently as tears soaked into her sweater. She’s going to think I wanted this. She’s going to think I don’t care.
—
The soft glow of the phone screen was the only light in the darkness of Azzi’s room. It was well past midnight, but sleep was completely out of the question. The empty space on the mattress beside her felt massive, a cold reminder of everything she was currently missing.
With a tight, aching chest, Azzi unlocked her phone and opened her camera roll, immediately scrolling until she reached the pictures of Paige.
A quiet, shaky breath caught in her throat as she started flipping through the selfies they had taken together over the past few months. There was one of Paige looking completely panicked over a biology textbook while Azzi smiled at the camera in the background. There was another of them pressed shoulder to shoulder on the narrow bed, Paige’s cheeks flushed a sweet pink, her smile so bright it made Azzi’s eyes sting.
A single, hot tear spilled over Azzi’s eyelashes, tracking down her cheek and dampening her pillow. She didn't bother to wipe it away.
Then, her thumb swiped to a short video.
Azzi’s heart did a painful squeeze as the video started playing. The footage was shot from her point of view, shaky and low-angle, filmed while she was still laying in bed one morning. In the frame,
Paige was standing in front of the mirror, her soft hair a little messy, adjusting the collar of her uniform.
In the video, Paige suddenly caught Azzi filming her. She let out a soft, breathless laugh, her eyes lighting up with that pure, radiant affection that was reserved only for Azzi.
"Az, stop it, put that away," Paige’s voice came through the phone’s tiny speaker, a gentle murmur that made the real-life Azzi sob quietly.
On the screen, Paige turned around and walked straight toward the camera. The video shook as Paige crawled onto the mattress, her knees landing on either side of Azzi’s hips as she completely climbed on top of her. She leaned down, burying her face into Azzi’s neck, her arms wrapping securely around Azzi’s shoulders to pull her into a tight hug.
The audio captured the rustle of the sheets and the close, warm sound of Paige's breathing. "You're so lazy in the mornings," Paige whispered into her neck, her voice dripping with sweetness. "But you're my favorite person to wake up to. So pretty today."
The video cut off there.
Azzi’s thumb trembled as she swiped the screen once more, her vision blurred by the fresh wave of tears. The next one was a slightly longer video, and the thumbnail immediately made her chest tighten with a bittersweet ache.
This video wasn't one Azzi had taken. It was one Paige had recorded, having snuck Azzi’s phone off the nightstand early one Sunday morning while Azzi was still dead to the world.
The video started with a sudden, close-up shot of Paige’s face, her eyes wide and sparkling. She had a finger pressed to her lips, letting out a tiny, silent giggle as she angled the camera downward to reveal why she was being so quiet.
Azzi was fast asleep, her head resting against Paige’s chest. In the video, Azzi’s curls were splayed across Paige’s shoulder, her face completely relaxed, a soft contrast to her usual guarded, sharp expressions. One of Azzi’s arms was wrapped possessively around Paige’s waist.
The camera shook slightly as Paige shifted, whispering directly into the phone’s microphone so she wouldn't wake the sleeping girl.
"I stole her phone," Paige murmured, her voice a low and raspy sending a jolt straight through the real-life Azzi lying in the dark. On screen, Paige zoomed in a little closer on Azzi’s face, her expression softening into something so tender it was almost painful to watch.
"Look at her," Paige whispered, a breathless, utterly captivated sigh catching in her throat. "She’s going to kill me if she ever finds this video, but she is just... she's so beautiful when she’s sleeping."
On screen, Paige reached her free hand into the frame, her fingers gently, meticulously brushing a stray lock of dark hair away from Azzi’s forehead, her touch so light it didn't even make Azzi stir.
"I love being like this with her so much," Paige continued, her voice dropping into an intimate, affectionate cadence. "It’s my absolute favorite thing in the world. She feels so warm, and I just... I wish we could stay like this forever."
Azzi watched as her sleeping self let out a soft, unconscious groan, burying her face deeper into Paige’s neck. Paige let out another quiet laugh, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to the crown of Azzi’s head before looking back at the lens.
"You’re so perfect, Az," Paige whispered to the camera, her eyes full of a raw, undeniable devotion. "Wake up soon so I can tell you."
Azzi stared at the frozen final frame, her vision completely blurred by tears. She tightly clutched the phone against her chest, curling her knees up toward her stomach as a quiet, broken sob escaped her lips.
She missed her so much it felt like a physical sickness. More than anything in the entire world, Azzi just wanted to go home.
—
The wooden door of room 535 felt identical to how it had ten days ago, but as Azzi pressed her palm against the familiar grain, her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. She didn't even bother to take off her winter coat. She turned the brass knob and pushed the door open, her defensive, deadpan shield ready to slide into place out of pure habit.
The shield instantly shattered.
The room wasn't dark or empty. The radiator was clanking out its familiar, noisy warmth, and the soft afternoon light was streaming across the floor. Sitting on the edge of her neatly made bed, her hands tucked into her lap, was Paige.
The moment the door opened, Paige’s head snapped up. Her eyes locked onto Azzi, and a radiant, breathless smile instantly broke across her face.
An overwhelming rush of pure happiness hit Azzi so hard it practically took her breath away.
"Azzi," Paige whispered, her voice a little shaky as she immediately stood up from the mattress.
Azzi didn't say a word. She dropped her bag right onto the floor, letting it clatter loudly against the ground, took her jacket off, and crossed the small distance between them in two long strides. Before Paige could even take a full step forward, Azzi reached out, her arms wrapping around Paige’s waist and pulling her flush against her chest.
She buried her face deep into the crook of Paige’s neck, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her shampoo. She squeezed her so tightly it probably hurt, her hands gripping the fabric of Paige’s sweater as if to prove to herself that this was real, that she was finally, truly back.
Paige let out a soft, watery gasp, her arms flying up to wrap securely around Azzi’s neck, holding on just as desperately. She buried her face into Azzi’s shoulder, her whole body relaxing as she leaned all her weight into the embrace.
"You're here," Paige murmured against her skin, her hands tangling into the hair at the back of Azzi's neck. "I missed you so much."
Azzi just held her closer, closing her eyes tightly as the steady warmth of Paige's breathing comforted her completely.
Paige gently pulled back from the hug just enough to take Azzi’s hand, her fingers sliding effortlessly into the spaces between Azzi’s. Without breaking eye contact, she guided Azzi across the small room toward her bed. The familiar, soft mattress gave way as Paige sat down on the edge, pulling Azzi right along with her.
Azzi moved automatically, shifting to straddle Paige’s lap, her knees settling on either side of Paige's hips.
Being this close again felt like a shock to the system. Paige’s hands immediately found their place on Azzi’s waist, her touch warm and grounding, while Azzi wrapped her arms loosely around Paige’s shoulders. They just sat there for a long, quiet moment, their chests rising and falling in sync as they drank each other in.
Azzi looked down at Paige, her usual sharp, guarded expression completely melting away into something raw and vulnerable.
"I missed you so much," Azzi whispered, her voice a little rougher than usual. She leaned down, resting her forehead against Paige’s, letting her eyes close as she finally felt safe enough to breathe. "You have no idea. I am so happy to see you."
Paige’s heart did a happy flutter at the honesty in Azzi’s voice. She squeezed Azzi’s waist tightly, tilting her head up to kiss her cheek, right where a tear had dried a few nights before. "I missed you just as much," Paige murmured, her smile radiant against Azzi's skin. "We're back now. You're home."
"Okay, wait," Paige said, a sudden, excited spark lighting up her eyes. She gently patted Azzi’s hips, indicating for her to shift so they could move. "We need to exchange gifts right now. I’ve been waiting all week to give you yours."
Azzi let out a soft, amused laugh, the sound low and relaxed as she slid off Paige’s lap. "Okay, okay. Let's do it."
They both got up and walked over to their respective sides, digging through their bags to retrieve the hidden packages. When they sat back down on the edge of the bed, Paige was holding a beautifully wrapped box and a distinctive Victoria's Secret bag, while Azzi held a small jewelry box.
Paige handed over the bag first, but just as Azzi’s fingers brushed the handles, a wave of nervousness hit Paige. Her cheeks flushed bright pink, and she instinctively reached out to grab Azzi’s wrist to pause her.
"Wait, before you open it," Paige stammered, her voice dropping to a shy, hurried whisper. "I just... I want to promise you that I'm not trying to objectify you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way. I swear. I just... I know you like to wear those types of things to sleep, and when I saw it, I just thought it was so beautiful. Please don't think it's weird."
Azzi raised an eyebrow, a familiar, fond smirk returning to her lips at how incredibly flustered Paige was getting. "Paige, breathe. I’m not going to think you're weird."
Slowly, Azzi reached into the bag and pulled out the delicate, shimmering fabric. When it unfolded, she caught her breath. It was the tiny, silk and lace lavender nightgown. It was incredibly soft, and it was undeniably short.
Paige bit her lip, watching Azzi’s face anxiously. "It's... it's my favorite color," Paige explained softly, her voice filled with a quiet vulnerability. "And I just really wanted to see you wear it."
A genuine, radiant smile broke across Azzi's face.
"I love it," Azzi said, her voice completely sincere as she looked up, her eyes full of affection. She carefully folded the fabric back into the bag and set it beside her on the mattress. "It’s perfect. I’ll put it on as soon as we’re done."
Azzi reached for the second package, the neat box from the bookstore. She pulled off the ribbon and lifted the lid, revealing the soft leather journal inside.
The moment she saw it, her chest tightened. It was a beautiful, delicate shade of light pink; her favorite color. Then, her eyes landed on the bottom corner of the cover. There, stamped cleanly into the leather in gold foil, were two tiny letters: a+p.
Azzi’s breath hitched. She traced her thumb over the engraving, her heart swelling so painfully she could barely handle it.
"Open the first page," Paige whispered, watching her with wide, hopeful eyes.
Azzi carefully opened the cover. Written in Paige’s neat, familiar handwriting was the note she had left that night in her bedroom. Azzi’s eyes scanned the words.
A broken sob escaped her throat, and the tears she had been trying to hold back finally spilled over, pouring down her cheeks. She quickly looked down, trying to blink them away, but they just kept coming, a few drops splashing right onto the blank space below Paige's note.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Paige asked instantly, her voice filled with panic as she leaned in close. She reached up, her hands gently cupping Azzi’s face, her thumbs wiping away the tears. "Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry—"
"No," Azzi choked out, shaking her head as she dropped the journal into her lap. She wrapped her arms around Paige's waist and buried her face straight into her shoulder, her shoulders shaking as she wept freely. "No, Paige, it's perfect."
Paige’s own eyes welled with tears as she held Azzi tight, rocking her gently until the sobs finally quieted down into soft, uneven breaths. Azzi pulled back just enough to wipe her eyes, as she reached for the small jewelry box she had brought with her.
"Your turn," Azzi murmured, her voice still thick with emotion as she pressed the box into Paige’s hands.
Paige took it, her fingers trembling slightly. She carefully lifted the lid, and a soft gasp escaped her lips. Resting against the dark fabric was the silver locket.
"Azzi, it’s beautiful," Paige breathed, lifting the delicate chain. She noticed the tiny seam on the side and carefully popped the locket open. Her heart stopped. There, engraved in the silver in Azzi's unmistakable handwriting, were two words: always yours
Paige looked up, her vision instantly blurring. The sheer weight of those words, written by Azzi’s own hand, washed away every lingering bit of guilt from the break. "I love it so much," she whispered, a radiant smile breaking through her tears.
"Here," Azzi said softly, reaching out to take the chain from Paige's fingers. "Let me put it on you."
Paige turned around, brushing her hair over one shoulder to give Azzi room. She felt the cool metal of the locket rest right against her collarbone, followed by the brush of Azzi’s fingers against the back of her neck as she carefully fastened the clasp. When Azzi finished, her hands lingered on Paige’s shoulders for a moment, a quiet promise hanging in the air between them.
Azzi stood up from the mattress, grabbing the Victoria’s Secret bag she had set aside. She offered Paige a smile that reached all the way to her eyes.
"I'm going to go change into my new favorite nightgown," Azzi said, her tone full of affection. "Don't go anywhere."
In the small privacy of the bathroom, Azzi slid the lavender silk over her head. The material was incredibly lightweight, cooling against her skin as it draped over her body. She stepped in front of the mirror to adjust it, and her breath caught in her throat.
It was very tiny. The hemline barely swept the tops of her thighs, and the lace neckline dipped low, framing her collarbone perfectly. The sheer lace detailing at the back exposed a lot of skin. A sudden spike of nerves hit her. Will she like it? Azzi worried, her usual confidence faltering as she stared at her reflection. What if she thinks I look ridiculous?
But then she remembered how incredibly flustered and excited Paige had been just minutes ago, explaining how it was her favorite color. Azzi took a steadying breath, squaring her shoulders. She couldn't just hide in the bathroom.
She turned the knob and stepped back out into the bedroom.
Paige was sitting exactly where she left her on the edge of the bed, her fingers lightly tracing the new silver locket around her neck. When the bathroom door clicked, Paige looked up and instantly froze.
Her mouth parted slightly, her eyes widening as they swept over Azzi. The color looked breathtaking against Azzi's skin, and the short, delicate cut highlighted every single curve of her body. Paige’s mind went entirely blank. A sudden, intense wave of heat rushed over her, her heart drumming a frantic, rhythm against her ribs. She felt a completely unfamiliar, dizzying pull in her stomach, an overwhelming rush of attraction that she was too naive to fully understand, but it rooted her on the spot. She was genuinely, completely too stunned to speak.
Noticing Paige's wide-eyed, completely breathless silence, Azzi felt a surge of her usual confidence rush back. The nervousness melted away, replaced by a slow, knowing smirk.
Azzi walked across the room, her bare feet silent, until she was standing directly over Paige. The short hem of the silk brushed lightly against Paige’s knees.
Azzi leaned down slightly, her eyes locking onto Paige's dazed expression. "You can touch," Azzi murmured, her voice low and dripping with a quiet, teasing authority. "You’re the one that bought it."
The permission was all Paige needed to break out of her trance. Her hands moved instinctively, her palms pressing flat against the smooth, cool silk covering Azzi’s hips. The fabric was so thin she could feel the heat radiating from Azzi’s skin beneath it.
Paige didn't say a word. She just sat there, looking up, her wide eyes entirely fixed on Azzi as her thumbs began to rub slow, gentle circles against her hips. The unfamiliar, dizzying warmth in Paige's stomach tightened, making her breathing shallow, but she couldn't pull her gaze away from how breathtaking Azzi looked.
Azzi stood completely still, her breath hitching slightly at the immediate, unhesitating touch. She watched the mesmerized focus in Paige’s eyes, feeling a rare flutter of vulnerability mix with the sudden heat in the room.
After a long, quiet moment of just being stared at, Azzi cleared her throat, her voice dropping to a soft, uncharacteristically quiet murmur. "Do you... do you think I'm pretty?"
"So beautiful," Paige breathed out instantly, the answer leaving her lips without a second of thought. It was the absolute truth.
As if drawn by an invisible magnetic pull, Paige’s hands began to slide. Her palms smoothed down the lavender silk, moving past Azzi's waist and tracing the curve of her hips downward and back slightly. The short hem of the nightgown shifted with the movement, and Paige’s fingers rested right at the very bottom edge of the fabric, her touch resting almost completely against the bare skin of Azzi’s thighs. A sharp jolt of electricity shot straight through Paige's chest at the contact, her heart hammering wildly as she kept her eyes locked onto Azzi's.
Azzi’s breath caught sharply as Paige’s fingers brushed the bare skin at the top of her thighs. Driven by Paige’s reaction, Azzi shifted her weight and climbed back into Paige’s lap, her knees settling on either side of Paige's hips once more, the silk riding up even further.
The proximity of Azzi’s bare skin and the scent of her perfume completely overloaded Paige's senses. Overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of what she was feeling, Paige let out a soft, breathless gasp and buried her face deep into the crook of Azzi’s neck, hiding from the weight of her own gaze.
Her hands, however, didn't stop moving.
Paige’s palms slid up from Azzi's hips, mapping the smooth curves of her back. The low-cut lace back of the nightgown meant her hands were directly against Azzi’s bare, warm skin. She rubbed her hands up and down the length of Azzi's spine, her touch firm and desperate to hold onto her. But as her hands glided downward, tracing the dip of Azzi's spine, she lingered heavily at the small of her lower back; her fingers dipping beneath the silk, resting against the soft curve of her ass.
Azzi’s head dropped back against Paige's shoulder, and a soft, helpless whimper escaped her lips, the sound vibrating directly against Paige’s collarbone.
Hearing that sound; knowing she had caused it, ignited a sudden, bold spark of confidence inside Paige. She had never kissed anyone before; her first kiss was something she had always assumed would happen with her future husband like she was taught it was supposed to. But right here, there were no rules. There was only Azzi.
Spurred on by the quiet gasp of Azzi's breath, Paige leaned in. She pressed her lips very softly against the warm, sensitive skin of Azzi's neck. It was a gentle, hesitant friction at first, her lips parting slightly as she tasted her skin.
Azzi’s breath hitched sharply, a violent shiver ran down her spine, but as Paige went to press another hesitant kiss against her jawline, Azzi gently caught her by the shoulders, stopping her in place.
Paige blinked, looking up with wide, slightly dazed eyes, her cheeks flushed a deep, breathless red. She looked entirely caught up in the moment, her hands still resting against Azzi's ass.
Azzi didn't say a word at first. She slowly lifted her hands from Paige’s shoulders, her fingers sliding up to cradle Paige’s face. Her palms were warm against Paige’s burning cheeks, her thumbs gently tracing the line of Paige's cheekbones. She tilted Paige's head up just a fraction more, forcing their eyes to lock.
Azzi’s eyes were intense, swirling with a mixture of affection and reverence. She could feel the rapid, frantic beat of Paige’s pulse right beneath her fingertips. She knew Paige had never done this before. She knew how fragile and precious this boundary was for her, and she wanted to make sure Paige was entirely certain.
"Paige," Azzi whispered, her voice low, raspy.
Paige swallowed hard, her eyes darting down to Azzi’s lips for a split second before snapping back up to meet her gaze. "Yeah?"
Azzi’s thumbs stroked softly over her skin, her heart hammering against her ribs just as fast as Paige's. "Can I kiss you?"
Paige’s heart did a violent, dizzying leap against her ribs. The soft pressure of Azzi’s hands on her cheeks grounded her, making the rest of the world completely fade away.
"Yes," Paige whispered, the word barely a breath against the small space between them.
Azzi leaned down slowly, giving Paige plenty of time to pull away if she needed to, before gently pressing her lips against Paige’s.
The kiss was quick; a soft, tentative brush of friction that lasted only a few seconds. A intense jolt of electricity shot straight through Paige’s body, the sheer novelty and sweetness of the sensation completely overwhelming her.
The moment their lips parted, a wave of shy, breathless adrenaline hit Paige. Before Azzi could even pull her hands away, Paige immediately hid her burning face, burying it deep into the crook of Azzi’s neck once more. She wrapped her arms tightly around Azzi's waist, her breath coming in quick, shallow puffs against Azzi’s skin.
Azzi froze for a second, her hands lingering in the air where Paige’s face had just been. A flash of concern crossed her features. She smoothed her hands down Paige’s shoulders, her touch light and reassuring as she felt the rapid thudding of Paige’s heart.
"P?" Azzi murmured softly, her voice filled with gentle tenderness. She shifted slightly, rubbing her hand in a slow, comforting circle on Paige’s back. "Hey. Are you okay? I didn't... you're not uncomfortable or anything, are you?"
Instead of answering, Paige pulled her face back from Azzi’s neck. Her cheeks were still pink, but there was a sudden, quiet determination in her eyes that caught Azzi completely off guard.
Gently but firmly, Paige guided Azzi backward, coaxing her to slide off her lap. Azzi let out a soft, questioning breath but complied, letting Paige ease her down until she was laying flat on her back in the middle of the mattress. The nightgown fanned out slightly against the sheets, exposing the long line of her legs.
Paige moved right alongside her, laying on her side and propping herself up on one elbow. She leaned over Azzi, her shadow falling over her, effectively blocking out the rest of the room.
Before Azzi could ask again, Paige leaned down and closed the distance between them.
She pressed her lips to Azzi’s once more. The kiss was still undeniably soft with asweet, nervous hesitation, but this time, it wasn't just a quick brush of skin. Azzi reached up, her hands sliding into the hair at the back of Paige’s neck. Slowly, deliberately, Azzi deepened the kiss.
She tilted her head, her lips parting slightly against Paige’s. A quiet gasp left Paige's throat, but she didn't pull away; instead, she leaned more into the space above Azzi, her fingers tangling tightly into the sheets as she let Azzi guide her through the unfamiliar, intoxicating sensation. The friction between them grew warm and heavy, a quiet haze settling over the bed as they lost themselves in each other for a few breathless minutes.
Eventually, the need for air caught up to them. They slowly broke apart, their lips lingering for one last, soft press before parting.
Paige rested her forehead against Azzi’s cheek, her breathing shallow and ragged, her cheeks a beautiful shade of pink.
"Azzi?" Paige whispered, her voice a little breathless and shy against Azzi’s skin.
"Yeah?" Azzi murmured, her eyes half-lidded and dark with affection as she smoothed her thumb along Paige's jawline.
"Can we just... can we just cuddle now?" Paige asked softly, a small, vulnerable smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
Azzi’s expression melted entirely. "Yeah. Come here."
Paige shifted, lying completely flat on the mattress beside her. Azzi turned onto her side, wrapping one arm securely around Paige’s waist and pulling her flush against her chest. Paige tucked her head neatly beneath Azzi’s chin, her face buried once more in the familiar, comforting warmth of her neck, while her hand came up to rest right over Azzi's heart.
—
Azzi stirred slowly, a deep sense of calm wrapping around her before she was even fully awake. She was lying half-on, half-off of Paige, her head nestled perfectly in the crook of Paige’s shoulder, her arm draped over Paige's waist.
What actually dragged her out of sleep was the incredibly soothing sensation on her skin. Paige’s fingertips were moving in slow, tender strokes up and down her bare arms and across her exposed back.
Azzi let out a low groan, burying her face deeper into Paige’s neck to hide from the morning light. "Paige," she muttered, her voice thick and raspy with sleep. "Stop. It’s too early."
Paige let out a soft, breathless giggle that vibrated right against Azzi’s cheek. Instead of stopping, Paige leaned down and pressed a sweet, lingering kiss right to the corner of Azzi's lips.
The gesture caught Azzi completely off guard. She opened her eyes, looking up at Paige. There wasn't a trace of the usual anxious tension in Paige's face. There was no hesitation, no frantic blushing, and, most importantly to Azzi, absolutely zero guilt. Paige just looked entirely content, safe, and completely at home wrapped up with her. Seeing Paige so genuinely comfortable in their space sent a rush of pure warmth through Azzi’s chest, pulling a huge, radiant smile onto her face.
"Good morning," Paige whispered, her eyes crinkling with a soft, happy affection.
"You’re mean for waking me up," Azzi murmured, though her smile didn't fade as she tightened her grip around Paige's waist, soaking in the absolute perfection of the moment.
But then, Paige’s touch faltered. Her hand came to a sudden stop on Azzi’s arm, and the bright, easy smile vanished from her face, replaced by a tense, nervous bite of her lower lip.
"Az... I’m sorry to ruin the mood," Paige stammered, her voice dropping to a small, hesitant whisper that instantly broke the peace. "But there's something I really need to tell you. Something that happened over the break."
The warm, perfect bubble of the morning popped instantly. Azzi’s smile dropped, replaced by a sharp furrow in her brow as she let out a low, frustrated sigh.
"Paige, seriously? Right now?" Azzi muttered, her voice tinged with irritation as she shifted her weight, propping her chin up on Paige’s chest so she could look her directly in the eye.
But when she saw the genuine, anxious tightness in Paige’s expression, Azzi’s defensive edge returned. "Fine," she murmured, her tone hardening. "Go ahead. What happened?"
Paige swallowed hard, her fingers nervously tracing the locket resting against her collarbone. "My parents... they've always had these plans for me. But over break, they made it official. They told me the expectation is that I’m engaged by the end of our senior year. So, they had this boy come over to the house to meet me..."
Azzi froze. The words hit her like a blow to the chest. The image of Paige with some guy, flashed through her mind and ignited a sudden, blinding wave of panic and fury.
Before Paige could even finish her sentence, Azzi scrambled off her lap, her face twisting in anger.
"Are you serious? Fuck off, Paige!" Azzi snapped, her voice cracking with emotion.
She threw the blankets off her legs, her bare feet hitting the floor hard as she stormed away from the bed, marching directly toward the bathroom just to escape the weight of what she'd just heard.
"Azzi, wait! Please!" Paige cried out, throwing herself out of bed and scrambling after her. She reached out, catching Azzi by the arm right before she could reach the bathroom door, pulling her back. "Just let me finish! Let me explain what happened!"
"No!" Azzi yelled, wrenching her arm out of Paige’s grip. She spun around, her chest heaving, her eyes flashing with a mixture of heartbreak and rage as she gestured wildly between the two of them. "No, I don't want to hear the rest of it! I don't care! I'm in a competition I can't win, Paige! I can't compete with your parents, and I can't compete with what they want for you!"
"And to tell me this now?" Azzi’s voice rose, raw and laced with a sharp, biting betrayal. She gestured furiously back toward the bed, her breath trembling. "Right after we just... after you kissed me? It’s fucked up, Paige! To be with me like that, and then just casually drop that you're expected to be engaged next year?"
Paige shrank back, her eyes pooling with tears, her hands hovering helplessly in the air. "Azzi, no, that’s not why I'm telling you—"
"I don't care!" Azzi shouted, cutting her off completely. The walls around her heart had slammed back up, thicker and more defensive than ever. She couldn't look at Paige's tear-streaked face without feeling like she was shattering into a million pieces. "I don't want to talk to you right now. Just leave me alone."
Before Paige could say another word or try to grab her hand, Azzi spun on her heel, stepped into the bathroom, and slammed the heavy door shut.
The sharp, definitive click of the lock turning echoed loudly through the quiet bedroom. Inside the bathroom, Azzi pressed her back against the cold wood of the door, sliding down until her knees hit her chest. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking violently as the panic of losing Paige completely took over.
Outside the door, the sound of Paige’s frantic palms pressing against the wood sent a dull vibration straight through Azzi’s back.
"Azzi, please!" Paige cried, her voice cracking, thick with tears. She rattled the brass doorknob desperately, but the lock held firm. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that, I swear. I just wanted to be honest with you. Please, just open the door. I just want to talk to you."
Inside, Azzi pulled her knees tighter to her chest, burying her face into the silk of her nightgown. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to let out a sound, trying to block out the desperate edge in Paige's voice.
"Azzi, listen to me," Paige begged, leaning her forehead against the other side of the door. "I promise you, it’s going to be fine. Please, you need to come back out."
"No!" Azzi finally yelled back, her voice raw, muffled against her knees. "Go away, Paige! I'm not coming out. I told you, I don't want to talk to you right now."
"I'm not going away!" Paige sobbed, her voice dropping to a broken whisper. "I'm not leaving you in there. Just unlock the door, please. Let me see you."
"Just leave it alone!" Azzi snapped, the anger flaring up to hide the terrifying ache in her chest. "You already ruined it. Just let me be."
"Fine," Paige whispered, her voice sounding completely hollow through the thick wood. "I'll give you space."
Inside the bathroom, Azzi stayed perfectly still, listening intently. She heard the rustle of clothes as Paige changed out of her pajamas, the sharp zip of a jacket, and the clatter of her sneakers on the floorboards. Finally, the main door opened and clicked firmly shut. The room fell into a dead, suffocating silence.
Only then did Azzi unlock the bathroom door. She stepped out into the empty bedroom, her eyes red and swollen. The bed was messy, a painful reminder of how perfect the morning had been just a few minutes ago.
Azzi looked down at herself. The silk felt like acid against her skin now. Every beautiful detail; the soft lace, the pale purple color Paige had been so excited to choose, just felt like a lie. It was a countdown timer to a future where Paige belonged to someone else.
Anger flaring up through her misery, Azzi grabbed the hem of the nightgown and yanked it over her head. She shoved it deep into the very back of her closet, out of sight, and pulled out an old, faded, oversized black t-shirt instead. She didn't want to wear a single thing Paige had bought her.
Crawling back into her own bed, Azzi curled onto her side and pulled the blankets up over her shoulders. The anger faded as quickly as it had come, leaving behind a massive, hollow ache in her chest. A fresh wave of hot tears spilled over her cheeks, soaking into her pillow. She clutched the edge of the mattress, sobbing quietly into the empty room, until the sheer exhaustion of the heartbreak took over and she finally cried herself into a restless sleep.
—
The soft click of the dorm door opening broke the silence of the room. Paige stepped inside, freezing in place as she looked toward the bed. It had only been about thirty minutes, but the guilt and anxiety had eaten at her so badly while walking the cold hallways that she couldn't stay away any longer.
She walked quietly over to Azzi's side of the room. Azzi was fast asleep, curled tightly into a ball, her shoulders still rising and falling with the uneven breaths left over from crying.
Then, Paige noticed the clothes. The nightgown she had chosen so carefully was gone. In its place, Azzi was wearing a oversized t-shirt.
A sharp, painful knot formed in Paige's throat. Seeing that Azzi had stripped off the gift because of what she’d said made her feel absolutely horrible. It was a physical ache in her chest, a stark realization of just how deeply she had wounded her.
Unable to stand the distance for another second, Paige kicked off her shoes and quietly shed her jacket. She carefully slid onto the mattress, moving as gently as possible so she wouldn't startle her. Since Azzi was curled up on her side, Paige slid in right behind her, wrapping one arm tightly around Azzi’s waist to pull her close, tucking her front against Azzi's back.
The shifting of the mattress and the sudden warmth immediately stirred Azzi from her sleep. Her eyelashes fluttered open, her mind foggy and her eyes burning. Feeling the familiar weight of Paige's arm around her waist, Azzi instinctively tried to push her away, her voice a low, raspy whisper.
"Paige... stop. Go away," Azzi mumbled, shifting her hips slightly in a weak attempt to break the hold. "I told you I don't want to talk..."
"I know, I know," Paige whispered softly, resting her forehead against the back of Azzi’s neck, squeezing her just a little tighter. "We don't have to talk. I promise. Just let me hold you."
Giving in, Azzi let her body go limp against Paige's, allowing herself to be held. She remained completely quiet, her brow furrowed in a lingering pout as she stared blankly at the wall, still mad but too incredibly tired to do anything about it.
Paige held Azzi tightly, but beneath her calm exterior, her heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against Azzi’s back. She was utterly terrified. The knot of guilt in her throat felt like it was choking her, and she knew she couldn’t keep this hidden for another second. If Azzi found out later, it would destroy whatever trust they had left.
Paige took a shaky, uneven breath, her fingers tightening slightly around Azzi’s waist.
"Az..." Paige whispered, her voice trembling so hard it barely carried in the silent room. "I need to tell you the rest. Please don't shut me out, I just... I need to be honest with you."
Azzi didn't move, but her entire body went rigid in Paige's arms. The foggy exhaustion in her brain instantly sharpened into alertness.
Paige swallowed hard, tears prickling the corners of her eyes as she forced the words out. "His name is Liam. My parents invited his family over for dinner, and it was awful. I didn't even look at him. But then... the next morning, my mom called me downstairs. She had arranged the whole thing without telling me. He was waiting in the living room, and she told me he bought tickets and that we were going to the movies."
Paige paused, her voice catching in her throat, dreading the next words. "And I went."
The reaction was instantaneous.
It was like a switch flipped inside Azzi. The residual tiredness completely vanished, replaced by a sudden, violent surge of adrenaline. With a sharp twist of her torso, Azzi wrenched herself out of Paige’s embrace, scrambling away until her back hit the opposite side of the mattress.
She swung around to face Paige, her eyes wide and flashing with a rage that made her entire frame shake.
"You went?" Azzi breathed, her voice dropping into a dangerously low register before instantly exploding into a harsh, cracked yell. "You went on a date with him?! Are you fucking kidding me?!"
"Azzi, no, it wasn't a date—" Paige cried out, instantly reaching across the empty space between them, her hands trembling.
"Don't touch me!" Azzi screamed, slapping Paige’s hands away. She scrambled backward until she was sitting up against the headboard, pulling her knees to her chest as if trying to shield herself from a blow. Her face was twisted in an expression of betrayal.
"You lay here and kiss me, you tell me you want me, and then you casually admit that you were out with a guy?!" Azzi’s voice cracked violently, the raw agony of the realization tearing through her throat. "While I was sitting in my house completely miserable, crying over you every single day, you were out at the movies with your fucking future husband! You actually went with him!"
"Why are you punishing me for this!" Paige fired back, the defensiveness rushing up to swallow her guilt as she sat up on the mattress, her own voice cracking with frustration. "You think I wanted to sit in a theater with some stranger? I had absolutely zero control over my parents inviting someone over, or forcing me into a car! You’re screaming at me for something that isn't even my fault!"
The word punishing hit Azzi like a slap, and her face went from heartbroken to completely lethal. A harsh, bitter laugh cut through her chest, her jaw clenching so hard the muscles in her neck strained.
"Oh, I'm punishing you?" Azzi yelled, leaning forward, her voice shaking violently as the raw agony of the realization took over. "Are you serious?! You cheated on me! But somehow I’m in the wrong!"
She slammed her hand down against the mattress, the sound sharp in the tense room, her chest heaving underneath her shirt.
"It is so fucking ridiculous I can’t even believe it."
The accusation sliced through the air, and something inside Paige just snapped.
"I didn’t cheat on you! We aren't even dating!" Paige screamed back.
The words torn out of her throat, louder and harsher than she had ever spoken in her entire life.
"You aren't my girlfriend, Azzi! I don’t owe you anything! I told you from the beginning I’m not gay!"
The instant the words left her mouth, a sickening wave of regret crashed over Paige. Her stomach plummeted through the floorboards. She froze, her breath catching in her throat, her eyes widening in absolute horror at what she had just weaponized.
She didn't mean it. She loved Azzi more than life itself, but in a moment of pure, cornered panic, she had taken Azzi’s biggest insecurity; the fact that they hadn't put a label on things and thrown it in her face.
Paige looked at Azzi, and the sight made her feel like she was dying.
The heat in Azzi’s face instantly evaporated, leaving her completely pale. Her eyes, which had been flashing with rage just a second ago, went entirely hollow. It was like watching a shutter slam down behind her eyes, locking Paige out completely. The betrayal on her face was a thousand times worse than the anger had been. She looked utterly shattered, sitting against the headboard, completely exposed.
When Azzi spoke, her voice wasn’t loud anymore. It was low, raspy, and completely stripped of the rage that had been keeping her upright.
"Right," Azzi whispered, a ghost of a bitter, broken smile touching her lips as she stared at Paige like she was looking at a total stranger. "Right. I’m not your girlfriend."
She let out a sharp, ragged breath, her head shaking slightly as the sheer weight of the betrayal settled deep into her chest.
"You just hold me," Azzi said, her voice cracking violently on the words, the hurt bleeding out completely. "You hold me in this bed every single night. You kiss me like your life depends on it. You buy me fucking lingerie, Paige. And you lead me on day after day, making me believe that you actually give a shit about me. Just to turn around and hold this against me the second you get cornered?"
Paige reached a trembling hand out, her throat tight with a desperate, suffocating knot. "Azzi, please, I didn't mean—"
"No, don't," Azzi choked out, flinching away from Paige's movement as if she had been burned. Tears finally breached her eyelids, tracking hot and fast down her cheeks, but her expression remained hollow, completely shattered. "The only reason we aren't dating, is because you told me you needed more time. Because of your family. Because of your guilt."
Azzi gripped the edge of the mattress, as she forced the words past the agonizing lump in her throat.
"And I gave it to you," Azzi yelled, her voice suddenly spiking with a desperate, crying agony. "I did everything I could to make you comfortable! I allowed you to treat me like something dirty you were ashamed of. I sat back and took whatever scraps of affection you were willing to give me in secret. I sacrificed what I wanted, what I needed, just to protect your feelings and keep you safe. I put myself second every single day so you wouldn't feel pressured!"
She looked at Paige, her eyes swimming with a level of heartbreak that made Paige feel like her own chest was being ripped open.
"But it's fine," Azzi whispered, her voice dropping back down into a cold, dead baseline that was infinitely more terrifying than the shouting. She pulled herself back, completely isolating herself against the far side of the headboard. "It's totally fine. Paige can just treat me like I don't matter, like I’m worthless. You can go out with whatever guy your parents throw at you, and you can come back here and completely tear my heart out. It’s totally fine... because we aren't girlfriends."
"Azzi..." Paige choked out, her voice dropping into a desperate, frantic whisper as she immediately tried to scramble across the mattress toward her. "Azzi, no, oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I swear I didn't mean that, I'm just panicked and—"
Azzi didn’t flinch away this time; she just shrunk further into herself, pulling her knees tightly against her chest as if trying to make her body as small as possible.
"Get out," Azzi whispered.
The words were broken, muffled against her knees, but they cut through the air sharper than any scream.
"Azzi, please, listen to me," Paige begged, her own tears blurring her vision as she reached out, her hands hovering inches away, absolutely terrified to touch her. "I was just defensive and scared, I swear—"
"I said get out!" Azzi choked out, a ragged sob tearing from her throat. She finally looked up, her face completely soaked with tears, her chest heaving. She looked so young, so broken, her voice cracking with a desperate, agonizing pain. "Get away from me, Paige! Just leave! I don't care where you go, just get out of this room!"
Azzi buried her face back into her arms, her shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs that echoed hollowly against the walls. She couldn't look at Paige for another second without feeling like she was suffocating under the weight of it all.
The sight of Azzi breaking down completely shattered Paige’s defensive panic, replacing it with a crushing wave of guilt. Seeing Azzi curled into a ball, sobbing so violently that her whole body shook, made Paige realize the gravity of the mistake she had just made.
"Azzi, hey... please, look at me." Paige pleaded, her own voice cracking as she carefully slid closer across the mattress, her hands trembling as she reached out to gently touch Azzi's shoulder.
Azzi flinched, but she was too exhausted and broken to fight the contact, remaining curled tight against the headboard.
"I am so, so sorry," Paige sobbed, tears streaming down her face as she tried desperately to undo the damage. "I didn't mean it. I swear to you I didn't mean it. I was just scared. I love you, Azzi."
The words slipped out, heavy and terrifying, cutting through the tension of the room. It was the first time either of them had ever said it; not over the break, not in their letters, and certainly not out loud.
For a split second, the room felt entirely still. But the words didn't bring the magic or the relief Paige had always imagined they would.
Azzi slowly lifted her head from her knees, her face completely soaked in tears. The hollow, dead look in her eyes didn't vanish; if anything, it only deepened. Hearing those words right now, after everything that had just happened, didn't feel like a confession, it felt like a bandage being slapped over a gaping wound.
"I don't care," Azzi choked out, her voice a raw, jagged whisper that cut Paige deeper than any scream could have.
"Azzi, please—"
"No, Paige! I don't care!" Azzi sobbed, a fresh wave of tears spilling over her lashes as she shook her head violently. "You don't get to say that to me right now. You don't get to say that just to make this go away. It doesn't fix anything! It doesn't change the fact that you went out with him, and it doesn't change what you just screamed at me."
Azzi pulled her knees even tighter to her chest, looking away from Paige as her shoulders continued to heave.
"Just leave," Azzi whispered, her voice completely broken as she stared blankly at the wall. "Please. Just get out of this room."
The final, broken plea left Paige with absolutely no choice. She couldn't push any further without causing Azzi more pain. Grabbing a random sweatshirt from her dresser with trembling hands, Paige blinked through her own tears, took one last, devastating look at the girl curled against the headboard, and slipped out into the hallway. The dorm door clicked shut behind her.
The moment the lock turned, the last ounce of Azzi’s restraint completely disintegrated. Left entirely alone in the room, she collapsed onto her side, burying her face into her pillow to muffle the raw, agonizing screams of heartbreak tearing from her throat. She was bawling uncontrollably, her fingers clutching the mattress tightly. Every corner of the room spoke of Paige.
Meanwhile, Paige was blindly moving down the dim, quiet hallway of the dorm floor, her vision completely swimming. She couldn't stay out in the open where another student might see her.
She ducked into the first empty, private study room she could find, letting the door swing closed behind her. The small room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of the campus courtyard lights outside the window.
Paige didn't even make it to the desk. Her knees gave out, and she slid down the wall, burying her face in her hands as a breathless sob finally tore out of her.
She sat on the cold linoleum floor, crying so hard her chest ached. The guilt was eating her alive. She felt sick thinking about the look on Azzi’s face when she screamed those words; You aren't my girlfriend, I don’t owe you anything. How could she have said that? How could she have been so cruel to the one person who had taken care of her for months?
She had wanted so badly for their first I love you to be perfect, to hear Azzi say it back with a huge smile on her face. Instead, she had thrown it out like a band-aid, and Azzi had rejected it.
Paige pulled her knees to her chest, rocking slightly in the room. She had never felt more helpless or more completely filled with self-loathing.
—
The silence of the dorm floor felt deafening as the minutes ticked closer to curfew. Paige stood outside their room, her hand hovering over the doorknob for a long, agonizing moment. Her eyes were raw and swollen from hours of crying, and her chest felt completely hollow. She didn't want to push Azzi's boundaries, but with the building locked down for the night, she had nowhere else to go.
With a shaky breath, Paige quietly turned the key, pushing the door open just an inch to slip inside.
Azzi was in bed, curled onto her side with her back completely turned to the rest of the room. She was still wearing the oversized black t-shirt, her shoulders completely still.
She didn't move an inch when the door clicked shut. She didn't shift, her breathing didn't change, and she didn't look back. The wall she had built between them was physical, cold, and absolute.
Paige felt a fresh prickle of tears sting her eyes, but she swallowed the lump in her throat, determined not to make any noise that would upset Azzi further.
Moving like a ghost, Paige set her sweatshirt down. She didn't turn on any lights. She navigated the small room in the dark, her movements slow and agonizingly careful as she grabbed her pajamas from her dresser.
She changed quickly, her eyes constantly darting toward Azzi's back, silently begging for even a fraction of a movement. But there was nothing. Azzi remained frozen, locked away in her own grief and anger.
Once she was ready, Paige carefully pulled back the covers of her own bed. She slid beneath the sheets, the mattress shifting slightly under her weight. She laid down on her side, facing Azzi’s back across the small gap between their twin beds.
Just when Paige thought the quiet would break her completely, Azzi shifted. She didn't roll over to face Paige, but she pulled her knees tighter to her chest, her voice cutting through the dark.
"Scream at me again, Paige."
The words were barely louder than a whisper, but they hit the walls of the small room like a blow. Azzi’s voice sounded completely flat, dead, and entirely hollowed out. There was no anger left in it, no heat from their argument; just a cold, empty void that was infinitely worse.
Paige’s breath hitched in her throat, a fresh wave of misery crashing over her. "Azzi... what?"
"Do it again," Azzi repeated, her voice dragging out of her as if she were speaking to the empty wall in front of her. She sounded utterly exhausted, stripped of everything that made her, her. "Tell me again how much I don't matter to you. Tell me I'm not your girlfriend. I want you to say it louder this time."
A rough, humorless breath escaped Azzi’s nose, but it didn't sound like a laugh. It sounded like a fracture in her chest.
"And then, once you're done screaming at me..." Azzi murmured, her chin tilting down toward her chest as she stared blankly at the wall. "Tell me you love me."
The words were completely stripped of any hope, dripping with a cold, dead irony that made Paige’s stomach violently capsize.
"Say it exactly like you did earlier," Azzi continued, her shoulders finally giving a small, ragged shudder against the mattress. "Look at me with tears in your eyes, whisper it and act like it changes anything. Act like saying it will just make it all better."
"Do that, Paige. Tell me I'm nothing to you, and then throw that word at me so I can keep being stupid enough to believe it."
Azzi’s voice cut through the dark again, dropping into an even lower, more agonizingly hollow whisper, but this time a sharp edge of pure bitterness began to bleed through the emptiness.
"The whole fucking break," Azzi muttered, her chin pressing hard into her chest as her voice began to shake with a raw, suffocating intensity. "The entire time, Paige. I was locked in my room, completely miserable. I sat there on my floor for hours just staring at pictures and videos of you, literally crying because I wanted you so badly."
A sharp, ragged breath tore from Azzi’s throat, her shoulders giving a violent shudder against the mattress as she stared blankly at the wall.
"And do you know what I was doing while you were out at the movies with him?" Azzi asked, a brutal, humorless laugh cutting through her chest that sounded more like a sob. "I was with Caroline. I was literally sitting there telling her that you were an angel. I was telling her how sweet you are, how gentle you are, how much you care about me. Because I'm the dumbest fucking person alive."
She swallowed hard, her throat working against a massive, painful knot, but she didn't stop. The words were pouring out of her like venom now, completely self-inflicted.
"I should've known," Azzi whispered, her voice dropping into a terrifyingly bleak, self-loathing cadence. "You get to go back to your normal, perfect life, and I’m just the idiot who thought you actually wanted this. I thought you wanted me."
Across the small, suffocating gap between their beds, Paige lay completely shattered.
"Azzi..." Paige whispered back, her voice barely a thread, raw and completely trembling in the dark.
She choked on a fresh wave of tears, tightly clutching her blanket against her mouth to catch the sob before she could force herself to speak. She didn't want to shout; she didn't want any more volume or violence in this room.
"I do want you," Paige gasped out, the words tumbling across the space between them, thick with a desperate, crying agony. "I want you so badly. Please, you have to believe me... I didn't mean any of it."
Fresh tears scalded Paige's cheeks, soaking into her pillow as she stared helplessly at the silhouette of Azzi's back.
"I was so scared, and I was so angry at myself, and I said the most horrible, disgusting things just to try and push you away because I was scared," Paige wept, her voice cracking violently.
She reached her hand out into the empty air between their mattresses, her fingers trembling as if she could bridge the distance by sheer will alone.
"I missed you just as much," Paige whispered, a ragged, breathless admission that came straight from her chest. "The whole break, Azzi... every single day I was dying to come back to you. I am so, so sorry I hurt you like this. I never wanted to go out with him, I am so sorry for what I said to you. Please."
The silence that followed Paige's plea was unbearable. Azzi didn't shift, didn't sigh, and didn't give even a fraction of a hint that Paige’s words had reached her through the wall she had built. The coldness radiating from across the gap was terrifying.
Suddenly, Paige didn't care about her pride, she had absolutely nothing left to lose.
Throwing her covers back, Paige slid out of her bed. Her bare feet hit the cold floorboards, and before she could stop herself, she sank to her knees right beside Azzi’s mattress. She collapsed against the edge of the frame, her trembling hands clutching desperately at the sheets near Azzi’s waist.
"Azzi, please," Paige begged, her voice cracking as a fresh torrent of hot tears spilled over her cheeks. She was entirely laid bare, weeping openly as she stared at the dark fabric of Azzi’s shirt. "Please just look at me. Turn around and look at me, Azzi. I can’t—I want to fix it. Tell me what to do, tell me how to fix it, please...I’ll do anything."
"No."
The word was entirely devoid of emotion. Azzi still didn't turn around. She kept her back to Paige, staring straight at the blank wall.
"Go away," Azzi whispered, her voice sounding dead, hollow, and utterly exhausted. "Get off my bed and go away."
The rejection hit Paige like a blow to the chest, knocking the breath right out of her. But she couldn't move. Her legs felt weak, and the sheer weight of her guilt kept her pinned to the floor. She couldn't go back to her side of the room; she couldn't retreat into the dark while Azzi was bleeding out right next to her.
So, Paige stayed. She let go of the sheets, burying her face into her arms as she slumped forward against the frame of Azzi’s bed. She just knelt there on the cold ground, completely broken, sobbing violently into the dark.
Synopsis: At Hopkins High School, Azzi Fudd has always known one rule, her brother Jose’s best friend Paige Bueckers is off limits, no matter how impossible it is to stop noticing her. But after one quiet night at an end of year party changes everything, Azzi finds herself three days later trapped in a car between Paige and Jose travelling to their cabin for 3 weeks, trying to hide a secret that already feels too big to keep.
warnings: none I think
Soccer Azzi x Basketball Paige
wc: 3.3k
A/N: sorry it took so long to get chapter 1 out, ive been so busy with work and barely had anytime to edit. originally this chapter was going to be like 12k words but I decided to split it up (not very evenly) just because it sorta makes more sense that way, so chapter 2 should be released tomorrow or tonight!
If there is anything you would like to see in the future please lmk!!
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The moment the SUV rolled to a stop in front of the cabin, Azzi felt some of the tension that had been sitting heavily in her chest for the entire drive finally begin to loosen, because no matter how many times she came here every summer, there was always something about seeing the familiar wooden cabin sitting at the edge of the lake, surrounded by towering pine trees and glowing beneath the warm afternoon sun, that immediately made everything feel calmer, as though the place itself existed separately from the rest of the world and all the complications that came with it.
The lake stretched endlessly behind the house, the water sparkling beneath the sunlight as small ripples moved across the surface, and for a moment Azzi simply sat there looking at it through the window while everyone else started moving around her, taking in the sight she had known for years and yet somehow never got tired of, because every summer seemed to begin with this exact view and every summer she found herself loving it all over again.
"We're here," Jose announced unnecessarily as he pushed open the car door and climbed out before anyone else had the chance.
Paige laughed from beside him, already shaking her head.
"Thanks, Jose. We definitely couldn't tell."
Jose shot her a look over his shoulder.
"You know what? Walk."
"We're already here."
"Then walk somewhere else."
Paige grinned.
Azzi rolled her eyes as she climbed out of the car, sunlight immediately warming her skin as she stretched her legs after being cramped in the backseat for hours, silently deciding that some things would probably never change no matter how old any of them got.
The second everyone's feet hit the ground, the unloading process began in complete chaos, with doors opening and slamming, bags being passed around, coolers being dragged out of the trunk, and everyone somehow ending up in each other's way despite having done this exact routine every year for as long as Azzi could remember.
Suitcases were pulled from the trunk.
Coolers appeared.
Bags were stacked on the gravel driveway.
And somehow, despite only staying for three weeks, it looked like her family had packed enough belongings to survive a small apocalypse, with piles of luggage appearing from seemingly nowhere as though the car had been secretly expanding its storage space for the entire drive.
Azzi had just reached down to grab her duffel bag when her mother's voice cut through the noise before anyone could make it to the front door.
"Nobody goes inside yet."
A collective groan immediately rose from every direction.
Katie crossed her arms.
"Front porch. Right now."
Jose looked genuinely horrified.
"Mom."
"Front porch."
"We drove four hours."
"And you'll survive another ten minutes."
"Questionable."
"Jose."
"I'm sitting."
Within seconds everyone had gathered on the large wraparound porch that overlooked the lake, dropping into chairs and leaning against railings while the late afternoon breeze drifted through the trees, carrying the familiar scent of pine, lake water, and summer that always seemed impossible to find anywhere else.
Jose dramatically collapsed into one of the chairs like he had just completed a cross-country journey on foot rather than a road trip in an air-conditioned SUV.
Paige immediately sat beside him.
Azzi took the chair on Paige's other side.
Close enough that their arms almost brushed whenever either of them shifted.
Close enough that Azzi became aware of it instantly despite doing her absolute best to pretend otherwise.
Close enough that every tiny movement suddenly felt impossible to ignore.
Katie waited until everyone was seated and paying attention before finally speaking.
"Three weeks."
Everyone nodded.
"Which means we're reviewing the rules."
Jose groaned loudly enough that a few birds scattered from a nearby tree.
"How many times do we need to hear the rules?"
"Every year apparently, because someone doesn’t listen."
His father laughed quietly from where he sat.
Paige looked far too entertained by Jose's suffering to be even remotely sympathetic.
Katie ignored all of them.
"First rule. If any of you go into town, visit friends, go to parties, or leave the property for any reason, your curfew is one in the morning."
Jose immediately opened his mouth.
"No."
His mouth closed again.
Paige snorted beside him.
Azzi bit back a smile.
Katie continued without missing a beat.
"Second rule. If you're out on the lake, I expect updates every hour."
Jose sighed dramatically, tipping his head back against the chair.
"Mom."
"I mean it."
"We know."
"You said that last year and then disappeared for three hours."
Jose immediately looked guilty.
"That was one time."
"That was three times."
Paige burst out laughing.
Jose turned and glared at her.
"You're supposed to be on my side."
"I'm on the side of whoever is funniest."
"Traitor."
Katie continued before another argument could start.
"Third rule. Keep the cabin clean."
Nobody responded.
"That means dishes get washed."
Still silence.
"Trash gets taken out."
More silence.
"And muddy shoes stay outside."
At that, Katie looked directly at Jose.
Jose immediately pointed at himself in disbelief.
"Why are you looking at me?"
"Because you're the reason that rule exists."
Even Azzi's dad laughed at that one, nearly spilling his drink.
Jose looked personally betrayed.
"This family is unbelievable."
"No," Katie replied. "What's unbelievable is how much mud one person can bring inside without actively trying."
The laughter got louder.
Jose slumped even lower into his chair.
Then Katie paused, and the shift in her expression was enough to get everyone's attention again.
"And there is one more thing."
Immediately everyone looked up.
"Room assignments."
Jose straightened so fast it was almost impressive.
"Oh, easy. Paige rooms withme."
"No."
His face dropped instantly.
"What?"
Katie pointed toward Azzi.
"Paige is sharing with Azzi."
For one terrifying second Azzi forgot how to breathe.
Her entire body went still before she could stop it, her heart suddenly hammering so hard she was convinced someone had to be able to hear it, because out of every possible room assignment she had imagined during the drive, this had somehow never occurred to her.
Beside her, Paige remained unbelievably calm.
Which honestly deserved some kind of award.
Jose looked between all three of them with growing confusion.
"Why?"
"Because they're both girls."
"That doesn't—"
"Yes, it does."
"I invited her."
Katie shrugged.
"And?"
"So she should stay with Azzi."
"No."
"Mom."
"No."
Jose groaned and dropped his head back dramatically.
Katie smiled.
"Girls need their own space away from boys."
Paige nodded immediately.
"I agree."
Jose stared at her in complete disbelief.
"Seriously?"
Paige didn't hesitate for even a second.
"I don't need to spend three weeks sleeping next to you."
"Why?"
"Because you're sweaty."
Jose looked genuinely offended.
"I'm not sweaty."
"And stinky."
"I am not stinky."
Paige looked him directly in the eye. "You absolutely are."
Azzi couldn't stop laughing.
Neither could her parents.
Even her dad was shaking his head as he laughed. Jose looked around the porch like he had suddenly realized he was completely surrounded. "I hate all of you."
"You'll survive," Katie said.
And just like that, despite Jose continuing to mutter complaints under his breath and Paige looking entirely too pleased with herself, the room assignments were final, leaving Azzi staring out toward the lake and trying very hard not to think about the fact that she and Paige would be sharing a room for the next three weeks.
Once the room assignments were settled and the porch meeting finally came to an end, everyone stood almost immediately, grateful for an excuse to move around after sitting in the car for most of the day, and within seconds the peaceful front porch turned into complete chaos as people started grabbing bags, coolers, backpacks, and whatever else had been left piled in the driveway.
Azzi headed back toward the SUV with everyone else, weaving around suitcases and trying not to trip over the collection of belongings her family had somehow managed to bring for a three week trip, still convinced that nobody packed more for a vacation than her parents did.
She reached into the trunk and grabbed two suitcases before hooking a duffel bag over her shoulder, shifting her grip slightly as she prepared to grab the last bag sitting near the back.
Before she could reach it, another hand got there first.
"I've got that."
Azzi looked up.
Paige had already picked up the bag and slung it effortlessly over her shoulder like it weighed absolutely nothing.
"I can carry it."
"I know."
"Then why are you taking it?"
Paige adjusted the strap before reaching down and grabbing another smaller bag with her free hand. "Because I can."
Azzi rolled her eyes immediately. "Show off."
Paige smiled without even pretending to deny it. "Correct."
The confidence in her answer made Azzi laugh despite herself, and together they headed toward the cabin while everyone else continued unloading around them.
The moment they stepped through the front door, Azzi felt another wave of familiarity settle over her.
The cabin felt exactly the way she remembered it feeling every single summer.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Familiar.
The scent of old wood and lake water still lingered faintly in the air, mixed with whatever candle her mom had apparently left behind during their last trip, and sunlight streamed through the large windows overlooking the water, filling the entire place with that golden glow that somehow made every room feel welcoming no matter what time of day it was.
Every corner of the cabin carried memories.
Movie nights stretched across rainy afternoons.
Early mornings were spent drinking coffee on the porch while the lake sat perfectly still.
Board games that somehow always ended in arguments.
Late night conversations that lasted until sunrise.
For as long as Azzi could remember, this place had been attached to some of her favorite memories.
And now somehow it was about to become attached to something entirely new.
Their room was upstairs at the very end of the hallway, tucked away from the rest of the cabin just enough to feel private, and Azzi could hear the wooden floor creak beneath their feet as she followed Paige up the stairs carrying the last of her things.
Paige reached the door first.
She pushed it open.
Then stopped.
Azzi stepped in beside her.
And stopped too.
A queen-sized bed sat against the far wall beneath a large window overlooking the lake, where sunlight spilled across the wooden floorboards and illuminated the room in warm afternoon light, making everything feel soft and peaceful in a way that almost distracted from the very obvious thing both of them noticed immediately.
The room wasn't huge.
It wasn't fancy.
But it was cozy.
And most importantly
There was only one bed.
For a moment neither of them said anything.
Neither acknowledged it.
Neither looked at the other.
Because somehow mentioning it felt significantly more dangerous than simply pretending it wasn't there.
Azzi walked farther into the room, setting her bags down beside the dresser while doing her best to ignore the way her pulse had suddenly become very aware of itself.
Three weeks.
One room.
One bed.
She refused to think about it.
"So," Paige finally said as she dropped the last bag onto the floor.
Azzi glanced over.
Paige was looking around the room, though there was a small smile threatening to appear at the corner of her mouth.
"We're roommates."
Azzi laughed.
"Looks like it."
Paige nodded thoughtfully.
"Try not to snore."
"I don't snore."
"Everyone who snores says that."
"I don't."
"We'll see."
Azzi shook her head.
"You are unbelievably annoying."
"And yet here you are."
The smile Paige gave her made it difficult to think of a response.
Little by little the room started looking lived in instead of temporary, as if they weren't visitors but people who actually belonged there.
Eventually they carried the last of their bathroom things into the adjoining bathroom and started organizing the counter space.
Which was when Paige discovered Azzi's skincare collection.
The silence lasted exactly two seconds.
Then.
"Oh my God."
Azzi looked up from where she was unpacking a drawer.
"What?"
Paige was staring at the bathroom counter with the same expression someone might have if they'd accidentally discovered classified government documents.
"What is all this?"
"My skincare."
"Azzi."
"What?"
"There are like fifty products here."
"There are not."
"There absolutely are."
Paige immediately started picking them up one by one, turning each bottle over like she was conducting a formal investigation.
"What does this do?"
"Cleanser."
"And this?"
"Moisturizer."
"And this?"
"Night serum."
"And this?"
"Hydrating toner."
"And this?"
"Face mask."
Paige looked at the bottle.
Then the rest of the products.
Then back at Azzi.
"You run a laboratory."
Azzi laughed.
"I do not."
"You absolutely do."
Paige grabbed another bottle from the counter.
"This one costs more than my entire bathroom."
"That's not true."
"It better not be."
"It isn't."
"You hesitated."
"I didn't."
"You definitely did."
By that point Azzi was laughing hard enough that she had to lean against the counter to steady herself, while Paige continued examining products like she expected one of them to reveal state secrets at any moment.
"Incredible," Paige muttered, shaking her head.
"My skin looks amazing."
"Your skin does look amazing."
The words came out so naturally that neither of them reacted immediately.
For a second it was just another sentence.
Another observation.
Another joke.
Then the meaning actually settled.
And everything stopped.
Azzi's laughter faded first.
Paige froze with a bottle still in her hand.
The bathroom suddenly felt much smaller than it had a few seconds earlier.
Much quieter.
The air felt heavier somehow.
Neither of them moved.
Neither looked away.
Because there was nothing funny about it anymore.
The compliment had been simple.
Honest.
And somehow that made it worse.
Or maybe better.
Azzi couldn't decide.
All she knew was that Paige was looking at her differently than she had a week ago, and now that she knew what those looks meant, it was impossible to pretend otherwise.
For a few long seconds neither of them said a word.
Then voices drifted up from downstairs, followed by the sound of Jose yelling something at his dad and Katie immediately telling him to stop whatever he was doing.
The moment shattered.
Reality came rushing back in.
Both girls looked away almost instantly, suddenly finding the bathroom counter, the mirror, and literally anything else far more interesting than each other.
And just like that, they went back to unpacking.
Only now neither of them could quite remember what they had been doing before.
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By the time they finished unpacking the last of their things and finally made their way downstairs, dinner had already arrived and the entire cabin seemed to have settled into that comfortable evening atmosphere that always appeared on the first night at the lake, when everyone was tired from traveling but still too excited about being there to think about resting.
Several pizza boxes covered the large outdoor table on the back deck, their lids flipped open as the smell of melted cheese and garlic bread drifted through the warm evening air, and despite the fact that they had spent most of the afternoon sitting in a car, everyone suddenly seemed starving the second food was placed in front of them.
Jose was already reaching for a slice before anybody else had even managed to sit down.
"That's my piece," Paige said immediately.
"There are twelve pieces."
"That one is mine."
Jose grabbed it anyway.
The look Paige gave him was so dramatic and genuinely offended that Azzi nearly laughed before she even reached her chair.
"You knew exactly which one I wanted."
"There is literally no way that's true."
"You took it because you knew."
"I took it because it was closest."
"Criminal behavior."
Jose took an exaggerated bite while maintaining eye contact.
Paige looked ready to commit a felony.
Azzi laughed as she sat down beside her, shaking her head while Paige continued glaring at Jose like she was considering whether pushing him into the lake would be worth the consequences.
The conversation eventually moved on, as it always did, and before long everyone had settled into their seats around the table, plates balanced in front of them while the first evening of the trip unfolded around them in the familiar way it seemed to every summer.
The sun was beginning to disappear behind the trees across the lake, painting the entire sky in layers of orange, gold, pink, and deep purple that reflected across the water so perfectly it almost looked unreal, while the surface of the lake remained calm enough to mirror the colors back toward the shore.
The breeze coming off the water had cooled slightly since they arrived, carrying the scent of pine trees and fresh lake water across the deck while leaves rustled softly overhead, and somewhere in the distance a boat engine hummed briefly before fading away again.
For a while nobody talked about anything important.
The conversation drifted naturally from one topic to another, jumping from basketball stories to embarrassing childhood memories to arguments about movies they wanted to watch later in the week, with Jose somehow managing to make himself the center of nearly every story whether he belonged there or not.
Azzi mostly listened.
She laughed when everyone else laughed.
Added a comment here and there.
Participated enough that nobody would think anything was wrong.
But her attention kept drifting.
Not toward the conversation.
Toward Paige.
Because now that they were sitting beside each other again, she found herself becoming aware of every small thing without meaning to, from the way Paige leaned back in her chair when she laughed to the way she absentmindedly spun her drink bottle between her hands whenever she wasn't talking.
Every now and then their shoulders brushed lightly when one of them reached toward the center of the table.
Nothing that anyone else would notice.
Nothing that should have mattered.
Yet somehow Azzi noticed every single time.
The lake stretched out in front of them.
The sunset continued to fade.
The sky slowly darkened.
And despite how peaceful everything looked, Azzi couldn't stop thinking about one thing.
Three weeks.
Three entire weeks.
Not a weekend.
Not a few days.
Three weeks of waking up in the same room.
Three weeks of trying to act normal around Jose.
Three weeks of pretending there wasn't something sitting between her and Paige that neither of them had fully figured out what to do with yet.
The thought should have made her nervous.
Honestly, it did.
Because keeping secrets at home was one thing.
Keeping secrets while sharing a room with the person the secret was about felt significantly harder.
Especially when that room only had one bed.
Especially when Jose was constantly around.
Especially when her mom had already started looking at her a little too carefully.
She glanced sideways without meaning to.
Paige was listening to one of Jose's stories while trying (and failing) not to laugh at something stupid he had said, and for a brief second she caught Azzi looking.
Their eyes met.
Neither of them looked away immediately.
Just for a moment.
Just long enough for Azzi's stomach to do something deeply unhelpful.
Then Jose said something else, Paige laughed, and the moment disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
Still, the feeling stayed.
As the last of the sunlight slipped behind the trees and the first stars began appearing overhead one by one, scattered across the darkening sky above the lake, Azzi found herself staring out at the water again and realizing she had absolutely no idea how the next three weeks were going to go.
All she knew was that things had already become complicated before they even arrived.
And somehow she had a feeling this summer was only getting started.
The kitchen smells like coffee and toasted sourdough.
I stand in pink platform slippers at the counter staring at the pathetic excuse of ingredients I managed to scavenge from Paige's fridge and cabinets. Beer. Bread. Half-dead tomatoes. Yogurt. Three different hot sauces. No actual groceries. Nothing remotely resembling a person intending to survive past the week.
So now there's two slices of toasted sourdough on a plate with butter melting into the cracks and tomato rounds layered over top. Salt and black pepper sprinkled across them.
It isn't much. But at least it's food. Although two slices of stale bread are nowhere near enough to fill up a person as big as Paige.
Sunlight spills through the kitchen windows in warm strips, turning the lake outside silver-blue. The A/C is on full blast filling the house with a artificial chill. The rug has finally been cleared of every last shard of glass.
My bonnet is gone now, the silk pajamas traded for a cream-yellow linen set. A fitted tube top paired with loose matching trousers. The thin white straps of my bra knotted behind my neck, braids held up in a ponytail.
Upstairs wooding groans as heavy footsteps thump on them. I don't turn around immediately. I just grip the mug tighter and stare at the steam curling upward.
Paige appear fresh from a forty minute long shower. My stomach does something deeply irritating.
Her damp blond hair hangs messy around her forehead, shorter now than I'll probably ever get used to. A dark gray T-shirt swallows her broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up at the hem. Black trousers. The Paige I knew would never been seen in anything other than shorts in summer.
And somehow that version of her is harder to deal with than the drunk one from last night.
Because for half a second she looks like herself again. Not the shell upstairs with razor blades hidden beneath first aid kits.
Then I notice the shadows beneath her eyes. The slight stiffness in the way she descends the final stair. The careful way she avoids putting too much pressure on her left knee.
"Coffee's probably terrible," I mutter, looking back toward the counter. "Your machine sounds possessed."
Paige huffs quietly slowing down in her track, blue eyes scanning me up and down. Her voice comes rough from sleep when she says, "It's purple."
"And that's supposed to do what exactly...?" Another tiny huff.
Three sharp knocks hit the front door. Paige's brows pinch together. She glances toward me instinctively before jerking her chin toward the door. "I'll get it."
I nod and reach for my coffee, pretending not to watch her muscled back shift with each step and the water droplets dripping from the nape of her neck to the collar of her shirt.
The morning light catches against her profile as she opens the door. And immediately a girl's voice practically explodes into the house. "Mornin'!
The girl standing outside can't be older than sixteen. Seventeen max. Blonde curls stuffed in a bun. Oversized school hoodie. Athletic shorts. Long limbs still caught awkwardly between teenager and adult.
And the second she sees Paige, her entire face lights up like somebody plugged her into a generator.
Oh.
Paige notices too apparently because her expression instantly flattens into the exhausted tolerance of somebody dealing with a harmless but persistent raccoon. "What are you doin' here' Bianca?"
Bianca grins so hard I'm shocked her jaw survives it. "I told you to call me Bee" Then her eyes flick past Paige and land directly on me.
The smile falters. Just slightly.
There's a tiny, tragic little pout that overtakes her mouth before she catches herself. I nearly choke on my coffee trying not to laugh.
Paige notices it too because one corner of her mouth twitches upward for the first time all morning. "Azzi, this is Bianca, Martina's granddaughter. Bianca, this is Azzi."
Bianca straightens immediately. "I know who Azzi Fudd is."
There's a beat.
Then she adds, quieter and deeply betrayed, "Unfortunately."
That one actually makes me snort into my mug.
Paige rolls her eyes. "Jesus Christ."
Bianca shrugs dramatically before stepping inside without permission like she's done it a thousand times before.
"Don't take it seriously. She's a kid," Paige tells me dryly like that explains everything. Then she stops Bianca mid step. "No outside shoes inside."
Bianca scoffs, kicks off her sneaker and walks in with blue and yellow minion socks covering her feet.
Bianca side eyes her. Then she points at the plate on the counter. "Whoa. You cooked?" She says, looking back at Paige.
"I did." I say taking another sip of the coffee.
Bianca sighs. "Of course, miracles aren't real."
Paige groans low in her throat. "You're bein' real disrespectful in my own house right now."
"You live like a lighthouse keeper." Bianca gestures wildly toward the fridge. "You survive on beers and bread."
"She's exaggerating." Paige pinches the bridge of her nose.
"I'm literally not."
"She's literally not."
We both say simultaneously.
The energy in the room shifts strangely after that as Paige's eyes flick between us repeatedly.
"Oh! Wait. I actually came for something important." Her face brightens again as she swings back toward Paige.
Paige leans against the wall cautiously, coffee-less and still waking up. "No." She deadpans before Bianca can even continue.
"I didn't even say anything yet," she smacks her tongue with exasperation.
"And I already said no." Paige rounds the kitchen counter to stand beside me and grabs the steaming mug.
"Just listen." Bianca ignores her rejection completely. "Our school's annual fundraiser's tomorrow." Bianca clasps her hands together. "For the girls athletics program?"
Paige blinks once. "The bake sale thing?"
Bianca gasps like she's been personally insulted. "It is not a bake sale thing anymore. It's huge now."
"Mhm." Paige nods solemnly. "My apologies. The huge bake sale thing."
Bianca rolls her brown eyes. "All the girls teams host it together now. Soccer, volleyball, and of course basketball. The whole town comes."
My eyes drift toward Paige automatically at the word basketball. I catch the exact moment her shoulders tighten. Tiny. Nearly invisible. But it happens.
Bianca either doesn't notice or chooses not to.
"We raise money for equipment and travel fees and tournament stuff," Bianca rushes out, words tumbling over each other. "And this year Coach Dana said maybe we could get special guests involved and literally everybody said you."
Paige physically recoils like Bianca just confessed to murder. "Absolutely the fuck not."
"Language." I hiss, eyes pointing to the very energetic teenager in the room.
"Yeah, language, Paige." Bianca squints at her with theatrical judgment. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"
Paige snorts through her nose humorlessly. "'Kay then. Lemme say it the Christian way." She plants both palms against the counter dramatically. "No."
Bianca whines dramatically. "Paige."
"No."
"You literally live here."
"Unfortunately."
Bianca stomps a sneaker against the floor. "C'mon! Everybody loves you."
Something flickers across Paige's face then. Fast. Ugly. Gone before Bianca can catch it.
Everybody loves you.
Funny thing to say to someone who disappeared from the face of the earth for two years without saying a word to anybody who loves her.
Bianca either misses it or pretends to.
She keeps going anyway. "You don't even have to do much! Just show up. Sign stuff. Smile at old people. Maybe inspire the youth."
Paige deadpans instantly, "I am the last person who should inspire youth."
Bianca points at her accusingly. "That self-loathing thing only works on adults by the way. Teenagers think it's cool."
That drags a loud laugh out of me.
Paige's eyes flick toward me instinctively at the sound, and for one dangerous little second something passes between us before she looks away again.
"Pleeeease." Bianca drags out, rocking side to side now. She presses both hands together beneath her chin dramatically. "Please please please pretty please."
And then she tries the kicked puppy face on Paige.
Wide brown eyes. Exaggerated pout. Eyelashes batting so aggressively it looks medically concerning.
A sad edged smile sneaks onto my face before I can stop it.
Because that used to be me.
I used to weaponize those eyes against Paige constantly. Big doe-eyed looks. Fake little pouts after arguments. Crawling into her lap at two in the morning asking for ice cream or back rubs or attention while blinking at her like some Disney creature moments away from woodland singing.
And Paige...
Paige used to fold instantly.
Didn't matter how irritated she was. Didn't matter if we were mid-argument. One look from me and her entire body would melt like a hot knife through butter. She'd roll her eyes all dramatic while already reaching for me anyway.
Weak. Horribly weak.
But Bianca's imitation doesn't seem nearly as effective.
Paige just stares at her over the rim of the coffee mug now in her hands, suspicion written all over her face. "You look like a mormon missionary," she mutters.
"Well then, in the name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, am I hearing a yes?" Bianca puts a palm behind her ear.
Paige opens her mouth, already winding up another refusal.
"She'll be there." I cut in before her.
Paige's head turns toward me slow, blue eyes narrowing into slits. "Will I now?"
"Yes," I say lightly, taking another sip of coffee. "Yes, you will."
"No, I won't."
I lift a brow at her, shifting my weight onto one hip as I fold my arms across my chest. "Real bold of you to assume you can say "no" to me and I'll listen."
Paige stares at me for a second too long. Her pupils dilating like she's remembering something she shouldn't.
Bianca, meanwhile, looks between us like she's courtside at Wimbledon.
"I'm counting on you then," she tells me with a sugary grin. "And you should totally come too. We can definitely hit our target with you there."
•••
The entire town smells like barbecue smoke and lake water.
Thick charcoal hanging in the heat. Humid air sticking to my skin the second I step out the car. Somewhere nearby somebody's burning mesquite because the sharp woody scent keeps cutting through everything else.
Music spills through the street before we even reach the place. Midnight summer blasting through the walls.
The fundraiser sits right in the center of town inside what looks like a giant wooden shack somebody kept expanding over the decades instead of rebuilding properly.
And somehow it works. American in a way it feels cartoonish.
Warm string lights zigzag above the outdoor patio despite the sun still being out. Hand-painted signs lean crooked against barrels overflowing with flowers. Somebody's hung up maroon and gold streamers for the school colors, though the humidity's already defeated half of them and now they droop sadly from the railings like exhausted party decorations after a divorce.
There's a massive smoker puffing near the side yard beside a line of picnic tables crowded with townspeople. Kids sprint around with painted faces and melted popsicles dripping down their wrists. Me in baseball caps sit in folding chairs arguing over football loud enough for Jesus Himself to hear.
And everywhere I look there's girls in sports jerseys moving around carrying raffle baskets and trays of food and clipboards.
Basketball. Soccer. Volleyball.
An entire ecosystem of teenage athletes.
The sign above the entrance flickers every few seconds: MABEL'S SMOKEHOUSE & DINER
One of the letters in DINER keeps dying and coming back to life.
Beside me Paige stands unusually still.
Black cap pulled low. Black t-shirt stretched over broad shoulders and slightly cropped that if she raised her arms it would expose her lower stomach. Dark blue denim held up by a brown leather belt.
She hasn't said much since we left the house. And even less after I walked downstairs dressed in a black half sleeved Nike crop top and soft cotton capris trimmed with lace along the hems topped with black Chanel flats.
But her eyes revealed everything she didn't say.
The way her gaze stalled for half a second too long before snapping toward her Cadillac windshield. Her fingers tightening once around the steering wheel. The muscle in her jaw ticking like a pendulum.
Like my body was something she was forbidden from looking at.
Which was ironic considering she used to peel and tear my clothes off with the urgency of a fish on the brink of death trying to find the ocean.
I glance sideways at her just in time to catch her staring at the crowd with that same expression she used to wear before playoff games.
Not fear exactly.
Calculation.
Like her brain's already mapping everything out.
The problem is basketball crowds make sense to her. Arenas are structured. A clear separation between the crowd and the court. This is different.
This is chaos.
These people know her and there's no boundary between them and her.
"Relax," I murmur, nudging her elbow lightly with mine. "Nobody's gonna jump you."
Paige says quietly. "You say that now."
The second we step through the doors of the diner, the entire room changes temperature.
Not literally. The air's still thick and warm and humid enough to stick to the back of my neck. But attention shifts so violently it feels stepping infront of an oncoming train.
Conversations stutter mid-sentence.
Heads turn.
A fork clatters somewhere.
"Oh my God."
"Paige!"
"No way, no way—"
"AZZI FUDD?"
"BIANCA THEY'RE HERE."
"Told y'all," Bianca says smugly, already bulldozing through the crowd toward us.
"Feelin' proud of yourself aren't you?" Paige mutters beside me.
Bianca ignores her completely. "No time for bull shitting around. Ya'll got work to do."
She hooks both hands around Paige's wrist and my forearm and starts dragging us deeper into the fundraiser while people practically part like the Red Sea around us.
The inside of the smokehouse is louder than I expected. Ceiling fans spinning overhead. Zara Larsson is even louder now. The scent of smoked brisket and cinnamon and fried dough layered thick into the wood itself like the building's bloodstream.
Every wall's cluttered with something.
Old football photos. Hunting trophies. Neon beer signs buzzing softly. A faded photograph of a fishing competition from what looks like 1987.
And woven through all of it are fundraiser decorations. Maroon streamers. Handmade posters. Glitter signs reading SUPPORT GIRLS ATHLETICS!!! In aggressively enthusiastic handwriting.
"Where we goin'?" Paige asks low.
Bianca turns around while still walking backward. "The stage."
Paige slows. "Absolutely not."
"Yes absolutely." Bianca points toward the far side of the room where a small raised wooden platform sits beneath hanging fairy lights. "Coach Dana already announced y'all were here."
"You announced us?" Paige sounds mildly horrified.
"I made flyers."
"Jesus Christ."
Bianca slaps each of her hands on our shoulders, "Jesus ain't gonna help you right now. Chop chop, buddy!"
I bite back a smile watching panic creep into Paige's face.
Not full panic. Just enough to make her jaw tighten slightly beneath the brim of her cap.
She used to own rooms like this effortlessly. Not even trying. Fame fit her naturally back then. Like a custom suit.
Now I can practically see her trying not to retreat into herself.
Bianca finally gets us to the stage.
It's tiny. Barely big enough for the folding table shoved across it. A maroon cloth hangs over the front with the school mascot painted across it in gold. Two chairs wait behind the table beside stacks and stacks of things waiting to be signed. Basketballs. Jerseys. Posters. Shoes. Old trading cards. One girl even apparently brought a toaster.
Why the fuck does she need a toaster signed?
"This is insane," Paige mutters under her breath as she takes the seat beside me.
"Millionaire athlete has to attend a fundraiser and sign a couple of jerseys." I jut my bottom lip out mockingly. "How tragic."
Her eyes drop to my protruding lip and then back up. "You also seem to have a lot of free time for a millionaire athlete. Don't you gotta prepare for the season."
"I can't have a season without a point guard now can I?"
Her mouth twitches as she averts her gaze to the crowd.
The onslaught of objects to be signed starts.
And it does not stop.
Teenage girls mostly. Some little kids. Parents.
One tiny girl wearing basketball shorts nearly to her ankles climbs onto the stage holding a worn-out Wings jersey with both hands. She can't be older than nine.
Paige's whole expression changes the second she sees her.
Softens instantly.
"Hey, kiddo." Paige leans forward onto her elbows. "What's your name?"
"Jasmine."
"Like the princess?"
The girl shakes her head aggressively. "Like the flower. They're mommy's favorite."
I snort.
"Thas a cool name." Paige uncaps the marker with her teeth. "Want me to draw you a lil flower?"
The kid gasps like she's been knighted by royalty as Paige hands her the jersey with a wonky funny looking flower drawn on it.
And I just watch.
I watch woman who speaks to children like they matter. Who signs every item carefully instead of rushing through it. Who asks names and remembers them.
Basketball has always loved Paige loudly and I'll make sure she never stops loving it back.
A teenage boy steps up next holding a basketball card. He looks at Paige like he's meeting Superman.
Then his eyes shift to me and he nearly short-circuits entirely.
"Oh my God." He laughs nervously. "Both of you at once is kinda terrifying."
"Why?" I ask amused.
"Because y'all are like..." He gestures vaguely between us. "Basketball Superheroes."
Paige chuckles beside me. "Which one of us is Iron Man?"
"Azzi," the kid answers without hesitation. "Obviously."
"Why obviously?" Paige scowls.
"'Cause Azzi is richer than you."
I choke on my laugh while Paige stares at him in silence.
"Damn," she mutters eventually. "Kids gettin' meaner these days."
The line keeps moving.
Sharpies squeaking.
Cameras flashing.
Music humming overhead.
At one point Bianca dumps an entire cardboard box of old photos in front of us.
"Sign these too for the auction."
Paige picks one up and freezes.
It's an old UConn picture.
Me and Paige when we won the national championship. Arms around each other. Paige's head buried in my neck. Tears streaming down my face.
Young and hopeful.
My heart lurches. The light atmosphere thickens in an instant.
Paige goes still beside me for half a second too long before grabbing the marker again gauzed hand trembling as she signs the photo.
Time starts behaving strangely after the first hour.
It warps into the sticky heat and music and constant stream of faces until the entire fundraiser begins feeling less like an event and more like a very southern fever dream.
One second I'm signing somebody's basketball.
The next I'm holding a toddler because her mother asked for "just one quick picture," except the toddler immediately grabbed my braid and refused to let go like she'd caught prey.
At some point Bianca and two volleyball girls begin auctioning things off from the stage.
"SIGNED PAIGE BUECKERS JERSEY," Bianca hollers into the microphone loud enough to rupture an organ. "DO I HEAR THREE HUNDRED?"
"THREE FIFTY."
"FOUR."
"FIVE."
The stage becomes increasingly absurd as the night crawls on. Signed sneakers. Duffel bags. Jerseys. Basketballs. Footballs. Soccer balls. Somebody somehow donates a signed cast from Paige's third season injury and that alone nearly starts a bidding war violent enough to qualify as organized crime.
The entire diner roars every few minutes whenever Bianca screams SOLD into the mic like she's Wolf of Wall Street.
Eventually the crowd loosens enough for me to escape.
I drift toward the quieter side of the smokehouse near the counter where the noise dulls and Zara Larsson's high notes are enjoyable rather than migraine inducing. The old stools creak beneath me as I sit. My spine loosens in relief.
Across the room Paige stands near Coach Dana with one hand hooked into the pocket of her jeans.
The waitress behind the counter slides me a strawberry lemonade with condensation already dripping down the glass.
"On the house, sweetheart."
"Thank you."
The lemonade tastes aggressively homemade. Too sweet. Too tart. Tiny strawberry seeds catching between my teeth.
Perfect.
I'm halfway through another sip when the stool beside me groans quietly beneath new weight.
My entire body stiffens instantly.
No.
Please don't let this be what I think–
"Hey."
Shit.
I close my eyes for one microscopic second before turning.
Tall. Probably mid thirties. Broad shoulders beneath a flannel rolled to his elbows. Baseball cap. Pretty in that painfully southern sort of way where men look handcrafted exclusively to drive pickup trucks and go for freshly eighteen girls.
"I know that face," he says, amused. "You trynna decide if I'm an asshole or not."
I, however am rather unamused. "And?"
"And I'm hopin' I'm the latter."
"Jury's still out." I sip on my drink avoiding eye contact and causing a scene.
His grin widens. "Steven," he says, holding a hand out.
His palm's rough when I shake it briefly. Callused. But not like Paige's. His hands don't make me feel buzzy and restless. The calluses don't make my skin erupt with goosebumps like hers do. Like I want her to pin me to the surface and sand me down with the roughness of her callouses.
"Azzi."
"I know."
Right.
I take another sip of the lemonade, this time to avoid a conversation.
Doesn't fucking work.
"You actually playin' for Golden State now?" he asks.
"Mhm."
"That's insane." He leans one elbow against the counter slightly toward me. "You know half this town thought Bianca was lyin' by sayin' y'all were comin'"
"Hah." I huff out a fake ass chuckle and glance around the diner. "Uhh...no wayyyy."
That earns another laugh from him.
And from the corner of my eye I catch movement.
Blonde hair and muscles. Still across the room near Coach Dana. Except she's not really listening anymore.
Her attention's landed here now.
On me.
On him.
The shift is almost invisible unless you know her the way I do. The way nobody else could ever know her. I straighten, my spine arching as if she's spread her hand on my back and bent me forward.
Her shoulders are locked so tightly her shirt rides up.
The guy keeps talking, unaware he's moments away from getting his nose broken by a six-foot one-hundred and eighty pound point guard with a penchant for self deprecation.
"So," he says casually, "how long you in town for?"
I open my mouth.
And at the exact same moment, across the diner, Paige starts moving toward us.
Not fast enough to make a scene. Not slow enough for me to miss her intentions.
People part for her instinctively. The same invisible current that used to ripple through tunnels and arenas and press rooms whenever Paige Bueckers entered a space and everyone suddenly remembered they were standing too close to greatness.
Her eyes stay fixated on us the entire walk over. Or more specifically, fixed on him leaning too comfortably into my orbit.
He notices her eventually.
Everybody notices Paige eventually.
His posture unbends automatically as she approaches the counter.
I follow her every movement as she stops beside my stool close enough for her thigh to brush mine.
Not accidental.
Her hand lands on the counter and on my drink. Long fingers. Gauzed palm. The faint silver flash of her cross necklace disappearing beneath her shirt collar as she leans slightly forward.
"Az," she says casually, taking a sip of my drink right where my pink gloss has left a sticky imprint of my lips. "You disappeared."
Liar.
Because I'm not "Azzi, you need to leave" anymore, suddenly I'm "Az, you disappeared."
How fucking dare she.
Steven glances between us. Beginning to sense the tectonic plates shifting beneath his feet.
"I've been sitting here for maybe four minutes."
"Mm." Paige nods solemnly like she's humoring a child. "Felt longer."
There it is.
That thing she does.
That smooth low drawl she weaponizes when she wants us to be narrowed into something private and intimate despite being surrounded by people.
Steven clears his throat awkwardly. "Hey, man."
Paige finally looks at him fully.
And God.
She doesn't even look mean. Her face stays almost pleasant. Relaxed. But there's something cold in the way her eyes are crystal clear blue.
"Hey."
Music hums overhead. Somebody near the stage erupts into cheering as Bianca auctions off signed sneakers for an amount that should qualify as fraud.
Paige's fingers tap once against the counter.
"What's your name?" she asks.
"Steven."
"Mhm." Another nod. "You play sports?"
The question sounds harmless.
It absolutely is not.
"Baseball," he says. "Used to."
Paige tilts her head slightly. "Used to."
Something in me starts overheating because I know exactly what she's doing now.
Paige has always been disarmingly charming when she wants to be. She asks questions softly enough people don't realize they're being cornered into a cage until the metal rails drop and they're trapped inside.
Steven laughs nervously. "Tore my ACL in college."
"Damn." Paige's voice drops lower, almost sympathetic. "That'll do it. Only the special bounce back from that."
I nearly choke on my lemonade because there's no way she just said that with the three knee injuries between us that we overcame and the fourth I'm trying really hard to bring her back from.
Her gaze flicks toward me briefly.
Tiny. Quick. Jealous.
Steven seems to realize it too about three seconds later.
His eyes dart between us again, slower this time. Taking inventory. The way Paige has unconsciously angled herself toward me like she's shielding me from something.
Or staking claim.
"Oh," he says faintly.
Paige's smirk bleeds into a placid smile. "Oh?"
"That's not," Evan points vaguely between us, looking deeply afraid now. "Y'all are still a thing–"
"Yes," Paige says instantly.
"Nope," I say at the exact same time.
We both freeze.
Paige turns toward me slowly. "Azzi." My name on her tongue feels like the drag of a blade against bare skin. I don't know when she'll finally press hard enough to split me open and despite everything the depravity swirling in my bloodstream makes me lean into the blade every time.
Because that's always what I've been for her.
Boneless and spent.
Spent on the invisible wall she keeps building between us only to claw openings through it whenever somebody else gets too close to me.
Spent on the way my name shrinks from Azzi to Az whenever possession starts rotting through her restraint.
I'm worn thin by the contradiction of her. The selflessness and selfishness.
I'm fucking sick with need for her. Debauched with how my body rumbles for her at the slightest sight of her.
The body she fucking debauched.
But Steven doesn't need to know that. Nobody does. So I put on my happy face and shrug a shoulder.
"What?" I sip my lemonade calmly. "You were taking too long to answer so I wasn't sure anymore."
Her eyes curve into slits.
Evan looks like he wants the floorboards to open and swallow him alive.
"I should-" he starts awkwardly. "I should probably-"
"Yeah, you should, Stephen." Paige says.
"Paige, his name is Steven." I hiss, kicking her shin lightly beneath the counter.
She barely reacts. Just keeps staring at me with a hunger she tried and failed to conceal for longer than a few hours.
PAIGE
Smoke bleeds out of my mouth in slow ribbons, vanishing into the dark.
The cigarette trembles between my fingers, because my chest just won't stop convulsing around her.
The lake glitters anyway. Cruelly. Moonlight pours over the water in sheets of silver so luminous, protecting it, caressing it. The lake seems fully encapsulated in the embrace of its lover. The surface of it shifts and sighs beneath, small waves folding into each other like lovers pressing mouths together at the alter.
Beautiful.
Everything beautiful eventually learns death.
I tip the bottle back again. Beer spills warm over my tongue, bitter and yeasty and dead. The alcohol should be enough to blunt the edges by now. Combined with the nicotine, with the ache burrowing through my knee, with the exhaustion calcifying around my spine, I should feel quieter inside my own skull.
Instead the lake grows louder.
The crickets grow louder.
Her laugh from earlier keeps resurrecting itself in my ears.
I sit there in the grass with my bad leg stretched crooked before me and think how burial must feel similar to this. Damp earth beneath your body. Weight pressing down from every direction. However, the grass feels like nails in a coffin. No matter how much I try for the soil to reclaim me it keeps reminding me that it's not my time yet.
The smoke rasps down my throat.
I thought all vices could eventually overpower each other if you consumed enough of them. Liquor could dim grief. Cigarettes could calm panic.
But then there's the poison no other poison could ever overpower.
The poison you choose.
I chose my poison young. Sixteen years old young.
And I drank.
Greedily.
I let it inside me so completely there's no separating where I end and it begins anymore. It lives in the architecture of my nervous system now. In the marrow. In the ruined fibers of my knee. In the phantom weight around my ring finger.
The wind shifts. I smell smoke and lakewater and summer and underneath all of it I still swear I can smell her perfume on my shirt from where she brushed past me earlier inside the diner.
Two years apart and one accidental touch still has my entire nervous system crawling back to her on its knees.
Pathetic.
Feral.
I laugh under my breath and it sounds ugly. Halfway to a sob.
Because tonight, just for one microscopic moment, I got to feel it again.
Possession.
That ancient monstrous thing living inside me that only ever wakes up for her.
Mine.
The word arrives involuntarily.
Mine to starve for.
Mine to desecrate.
Mine to spend the rest of my life pretending I'm not addicted anymore.
I'm the one who left.
I'm the one who shoved her away bleeding and sobbing and begging me not to disappear.
Yet the moment another man sat too close to her, I wanted to split him open just to see if she still looked at me afterwards with the same adoration she always carries.
I inhale sharply through my nose. The cigarette ember glows violent orange in the dark.
For one second I imagine walking straight into the water until it fills my lungs. Until the cold finally stills all this noise inside me. Like I do every night.
But even then I know exactly what would happen. I'd crawl back out.
I'd crawl out choking and half-dead and still make my way back toward life because I can't bear the thought of her shedding tears over my grave.
"Is this how you live now?" My poison sounds rather nauseated for how much it refuses to retreat from my soul.
I tilt my head just enough to glance over my shoulder.
One look.
That's all I allow myself because anything more would become fatal.
She stands beneath the porch light in tall silhouette and enchanting curves. Bare legs. Brown sugar skin. From this angle she almost doesn't look real. She looks remembered. Like something my starving mind invented to survive another winter alone.
Like my last seven minutes.
Azzi Fudd was always too good for this world.
And I forgot–for thirteen years–that I was also a part of this world.
I say nothing.
What the fuck am I supposed to say?
Yes, Azzi. This is how I live now.
Are you disgusted enough yet?
Has the rot finally reached your mouth too after all these years of trying to love me through it?
Will you run now?
Will you finally preserve whatever parts of yourself I haven't already sunk my teeth into?
Would you, Az?
Could you, Princess?
The porch creaks softly.
Footsteps patter, barely audible against the grass, but my body recognizes them instantly anyway. Every nerve ending in me tightening with need for release like a drop of blood in shark inhabited waters.
She bends down. Blocks out the lake. The moon. Their love affair. The whole shimmering cathedral of night behind her until all that exists is Azzi kneeling between my spread knees while the cigarette burns itself forgotten between my fingers.
My eyelids feel heavy. Every blink slower than the last. The liquor dragging at my bones like oil slick.
It's all a dream.
That's all this can be.
Until it's not.
"You're drowning yourself in cigarettes and alcohol. Aren't you tired yet?" She whispers.
Smoke curls between us like a barrier.
Her hands rise slowly toward my face, hesitant at first, like she's approaching a wounded animal liable to bite. Then her palms cradle my jaw like I'm the most precious thing she's ever held. Something inside me tears open so violently I nearly fold in half from it.
Nobody should touch me this gently.
Especially not her.
Azzi holds my face like it belongs inside a reliquary. Like I am something sacred enough to preserve despite all the evidence otherwise. Her thumbs brush beneath my eyes and I realize dimly that my skin is cold compared to hers.
"Why can't you just..." Her voice fractures softly. "Why can't you come back and drown in me instead, P?"
And there it is.
The final fucking mercy.
Offered to me like communion.
"Like you always used to." A tear slips down her cheek, twinkling in the moonlight, and the sight of it drives me rabid.
Because I did that.
I put that grief there. Just because I couldn't handle another setback.
I want to take the cigarette and press the ember straight into my sockets until the sight disappears forever.
But I can't stop looking.
God, I can't stop.
Her face hovers inches from mine and I think suddenly, horribly, of devotion. Of wolves starving through winter. Of churches filled with people begging to be forgiven for wanting too much.
Azzi has always loved me like resurrection was possible.
And I have always loved her like a famine.
But there are no miracles for sinners.
Her hands tremble against my face.
Tiny cracks beneath the skin. The kind that happen right before glass gives out completely.
"Talk to me," she whispers.
I look away toward the sky because I can't survive looking at her head-on for much longer. The moon hangs heavy, full and protective over the lake. Graceful and bright and unreachable. Like heaven probably is for people like me.
"There's nothin' left to say, Az."
"That's bullshit." The curse cracks out of her so sharply it almost startles me.
Azzi never used to swear like that unless she was pushed all the way to the edge.
"You disappear for two years," she says, voice shaking harder now, "then you act like I'm still yours in the diner. You say nothing on the drive over and disappear into your room like you finished filming a movie and you don't have to act anymore." She inches closer, wetting her bottom lip. "You drink, you smoke and then you sit out here talking like you're already dead."
"That's because I fuckin' am."
The silence afterward feels enormous.
Her hands slip from my face.
I immediately miss them so badly it gives me whiplash as I choke on a sob. "No." Her head shakes once. Then again, harder. "No, you don't get to do that."
I laugh quietly.
It sounds ugly.
"Azzi." My voice comes out scraped hollow. "Look a'me."
"I am looking at you!"
"No." I gesture vaguely toward myself with the cigarette. "Look a'me and you'll know I died in that game."
"You remember who I used to be. You love who I used to be. The one who died that day. That's the problem."
Her face twists.
"You really think I'm like that?" She staggers backward a step, and the tiny tassels on her anklet chime.
"You should be."
"Well, I'm not." Her voice snaps like rope pulled too tight. "Because I love every version of you, Paige. The golden one. The broken one. The cruel one. The one trying so hard to disappear into nothingness." Tears glitter on her face. "And as long as I love you, dying is not a decision you get to make."
Her chest rises sharply.
Then suddenly she's pointing at herself, nail digging hard against her sternum like she's trying to crack herself open.
"IT'S MINE!" she screams.
The crickets go silent.
The sound tears across the lake so raw the trees throw it back at us in echoes.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
"You handed me your life years ago, remember?" Her voice breaks, but she keeps going anyway, relentless in the way only Azzi has ever been with me. "You handed me your death too."
My throat tightens.
Because I do remember.
I remember every second.
Twenty years old. Bodies tangled in the back of my car. Whispering forevers with the blind arrogance of people too young to understand how expensive love eventually becomes.
Back then it sounded romantic. Now it's been crushed with regret.
"You don't get it." I rasp.
"Then make me get it!"
"You can't fix me!"
The words rip out louder than intended.
Sharp enough to slice open the night.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Her eyes gleam wet and furious and devastated all at once. Then suddenly her face goes still. Her trembling lips relax into a thin line. She gulps down a wave of unsaid words.
My stomach drops and I get to my feet, almost falling over with the force of my movements.
"Azzi," I say carefully.
She steps backward toward the dock.
"Don't."
Another step.
The lake water laps softly against the wood beneath her heels. "What're you doin'?" My pulse roars. "Az!"
She grabs the hem of her shirt revealing her bare chest. For one disorienting second my brain can't process what's happening. Her shorts and underwear go next. She strips fast and gracelessly, like anger's taken control of her limbs, tossing clothes onto the dock boards piece by piece.
She laughs once, breathless and disbelieving. Looking over her shoulder and then back at me. "You want to pretend that you're dead so badly, don't you? This martyrdom."
Another step.
"That you can't be resurrected. That you can't play again or love again." Her chest rises violently, sweat glistening against brown skin like she's burning from the inside out. "Coming back would mean living through it again. The rehab. The doubts and the pain of not giving up again. The humiliation of sitting frozen on the sidelines, trying to smile while everybody else keeps becoming who they're supposed to be."
I open my mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Because she knows.
She knows about the nights spent staring at old game footage until my chest collapsed inward. Knows about the way I stopped watching basketball entirely because hearing sneakers squeak against hardwood started feeling like mourning.
"It would mean waking up every day and wondering if your body still belongs to you." She runs a palm under her eyes, messily wiping away the tears. "Wondering if your knee's gonna hold. Wondering if the world's looking at you with admiration or pity."
"Princess, just listen to me-" I rush forward and trip over my own steps falling onto the grass. Grass tears against my palms. Dirt wedges beneath my nails.
"The pity kills you the most, doesn't it?" She hiccups. "Your family. Your teammates. Everybody looking at you like some tragic charity case."
Something cold hollows out my stomach.
"If the old you is truly dead... then you won't follow me."
By the time I step on the dock she's–
"AZZI!."
The seventy-foot-deep lake swallows her whole.
Water erupts upward in volcanic spray before collapsing inward again with a heavy smack. My body jerks towards the edge looking for her.
Nothing.
No resurfacing.
Just ripples spreading across black water and then the water returning back to its slumber.
Five seconds.
Maybe less.
Maybe eternity.
Every organ inside me turns to static.
My body falls into apoptosis. "Azzi! Come back to me. PLEASE."
Still nothing.
I wrench my shirt over my head so violently the fabric catches around my wrists. I reach for my sweats and stop.
Even now.
Even now some sick shame roots me in place for half a second too long.
The thought is grotesque. Absurd. She might be drowning and I'm still trying to hide what surviving cost me.
"Fuck."
I dive.
The lake hits like a car crash.
My senses vaporize on impact but the adrenaline mutilates any pain before it fully forms.
I open my eyes underwater.
The world below the surface is not silence.
It is pressure.
A crushing, sentient thing.
The lake folds around me like a fist closing.
Cold floods my nose, my ears, the back of my throat. My eyes squint against the dark but I see nothing except ruptured strips of moonlight. My lungs convulse instantly, body already demanding air, but breathing has never been stronger than her name.
Azzi.
My arms thrash through the water. Blindly. Fingers clawing through blackness thick as tar.
Please.
Please.
Something slides across my hand.
Please. Please. Please. Please.
A braid.
Thick and slick beneath my fingers. I grab it hard enough my knuckles ache and surge forward through the water. My palm crashes against the back of her skull.
Azzi.
Her body jerks. For one catastrophic heartbeat she keeps sinking. Then her arms snap around my waist.
The force of her colliding into me sends us spinning underwater. Her forehead slams beneath my chin. Her fingers hook into my ribs. Hair tangles around my arm, around my throat, around us both like dark riverweed trying to tether me to her forever.
And I know.
With certainty.
If this water takes her, it takes me too.
Not metaphorically.
Not poetically.
If she dies, I die.
I tighten my arm around her middle and kick upward. Pain rips through my body so viciously it nearly blacks my vision out again. White agony shearing up my thigh. But terror is stronger than damaged ligaments. Terror makes monsters out of people.
We claw toward the surface together.
Not swimming anymore.
Air detonates into my lungs. I choke on it instantly.
A sound rips out that exorcises me. Water pours down my face as I gasp and gasp and gasp again. Beside me Azzi coughs hard, curling toward me instinctively, one arm still wrapped around my waist so tightly it almost bruises.
Our faces are inches apart.
Her eyes are wide.
Terrified.
Alive.
Something inside me caves in completely.
My hands fly to her face before I even realize I'm moving. "Are you okay?" The words come out shredded. "Are you okay? Az—look at me—fuck—are you okay?"
I can't stop touching her.
My hands keep sweeping over her cheeks, pushing soaked strands away from her face only for more to stick there again. Her baby hairs are pasted across her forehead. Water clings to her lashes in trembling droplets. Her mouth opens around broken breaths and a sob tears out of me.
"You-" My voice collapses. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
She tries to answer but another cough tears through her instead.
I grab her harder.
Forehead crashing against hers.
My entire body is shaking now. Not from the cold. From the ten seconds she vanished beneath the surface and took my fucking soul down there with her.
"You don't get to do that to me," I whisper raggedly. "You don't get to scare me like that."
Her breathing finally starts evening out against my mouth. Harsh. Warm. Alive.
Then her hands grabs mine and pull it out from the water.
She presses my palm over her heart.
That undoes me more than the drowning did.
Because it's beating. Hard and fast.
She's alive.
My face contorts in agony as another sob tumbles out of me. Azzi just stares at me breathing hard, eyes glossy and mouth stretched into a wide smile.
A/N: Yall better hope the coaches select Azzi as a reserve or those fics aren’t seeing the light of day til September lol. I hope you love this!! xx Elle
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Growing up, Paige knew she wanted to play for the Minnesota Lynx. Her dad had bought season tickets to their games as soon as she decided that basketball was the only sport that mattered. She was coached by Cheryl Reeve, not anything real, just two hours on a random Thursday in February. She was the top player in Minnesota as an underclassman. She had Timberwolves players coming to watch her hoop at Hopkins. She wanted to be the hometown hero – get to the league and stay with them until she retired. It was practically written in the stars.
But what was true in every universe – what was weaved into the cosmos – was that Paige Bueckers was meant to be with Azzi Fudd.
When they met at USA Basketball tryouts in April, the younger girl didn't give much attention to the blonde. Paige assumed it was because they were supposed to be rivals – going after the same point guard spot – but Paige didn't really do rivals. Sure Hopkins had rival schools, and there were definitely a few AAU teams she would like to destroy, but individual players? Nah – they were all after the same thing, and it didn't make sense to her to hold a grudge against someone fighting for a chance to play professional basketball.
Paige had a crush on her from the moment she walked in the gym. And she tried – like harder than ever – to get the serious girl's attention. But nothing worked. Not when Paige was the loudest person in the gym. Not when she worked extra hard to be the first one to encourage her teammates, even if they were on the opposing team. Not when she stayed an extra hour getting up shots on the off chance that Azzi asked her to rebound for her. Nothing worked.
The night before she flew back to Minnesota, Paige was disappointed. She hadn't made any progress with the younger girl. But she was still sure that she could convince Azzi that they were meant to be together forever. She had two months to prepare for the FIBA U16 Championship, and she had to have the perfect plan to woo her.
She was a little more chipper the next morning. She was more than content to work on her plan to charm the girl. As a matter of fact, she didn't even move towards Azzi, even though they were at the same gate. She did wonder why she was at her gate, but she didn't want to bother her more than she already had – that would not help her case.
When it was time to board, she looked at her pass one last time. She kinda hated people who waited until they were on the plane to figure out where their seat was.
35A, oooh a window seat! While Paige didn't have a fear of flying, she'd always enjoyed being able to look out the window and see the tops of clouds. She was unlucky enough to get the aisle seat on the way to tryouts, and she was so bored.
When Paige arrived at row 35, she was relieved to find the seats empty. She quickly pulled out her iPad and neck pillow, then she shoved her carryon into the overhead compartment. She had just pulled up the first of many Criminal Minds episodes she'd downloaded when she felt a tap on her arm.
It was her.
Azzi looked a little anxious as she tugged at the sleeves of her hoodie.
Paige yanked her AirPod out of her ear, looking up at the beautiful girl.
"Uh, hi Paige," she mumbled. "Um, do you think you can switch with me?"
And as much as Paige hated the middle seat, there was no way she was going to tell Azzi Fudd no.
"Yeah, of course, Azzi." She prayed that she didn't look as stupid as she felt as she scrambled to move out of her way.
She watched as the brunette's hands shook where they held the seatbelt. After hearing the soft click, she pulled the fabric as tight as it would go.
So, Azzi's scared of flying.
Paige thought back to being around Azzi at tryouts. She was mostly quiet – she talked to a couple of the girls, but she was usually tucked away reading a book. Paige didn't have any books on her – because who wants to read on vacation – but she did have all four Hunger Games movies downloaded on her iPad.
"So, did you read the Hunger Games?" She asked, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.
Azzi's dark brows rose in confusion. "…yes?" She paused, face pensive. "I didn't know you read."
Paige was so in love that she didn't even pay any attention to the backhanded curiosity. "Yeah, I mean I don't like to read nonfiction books or nothing, but I thought the Hunger Games were cool."
"Or anything, not or nothing," Azzi corrected. "I liked Catching Fire the most. I felt like there were really nice plot twists in that one."
She was turned fully towards Paige now, and the blonde could hardly contain her excitement at having Azzi's undivided attention. "Yeah, that one was good, but I feel like Mockingjay was the best." She tapped away on her iPad, trying to find the movies. "Like Peeta going crazy was insane."
Finally, Paige's fingers stopped flying over the screen. Instead, one moved to hold out an AirPod to the girl sitting next to her. "D'you wanna watch Catching Fire?"
Azzi took the ear bud, and the rest was history.
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Paige was so grateful to the state of Minnesota. She wouldn't have most of the things or people she loved without it. And because of the love that she had for the franchise, she would have loved to be their star player.
But then she was drafted to the Wings. And she loved Dallas, and she wanted to spend the majority of her career building a dynasty like A'ja did with the Aces. But in the back of her mind, there was still the allure of moving back home for her last season and retiring a Lynx.
But then Dallas got the number one pick again. And Curt and Greg told her, even before the lottery, that getting Azzi would be their top priority. That meant two things. 1. She would have her shooter back. And 2. Azzi wasn't going to Minnesota – they could be on the same team for the rest of their careers.
And when Cathy called her name, the likelihood of Paige ever being a Minnesota Lynx decreased a little more. Azzi was just as loyal as Paige was – she wanted to retire with the franchise she was drafted to, and now that they were together again, it was pretty much written in stone.
Paige was fine with not being a Lynx. She still loved Phee and Cheryl, but she'd be fine with only playing with them during USA basketball. She had someone much better to be on the court with in Arlington, and she wasn't giving her up for anybody.
But even with her indifference towards the Lynx organization, that's all it was – she was indifferent.
Until this season.
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The first time Azzi played at Target Center, she was a little off. She was nervous as hell – her entire family was in attendance. Her shot wasn't falling. Her defense was great, but they called a foul every time Azzi looked at a Lynx player. The Lynx won.
And that didn't bother Paige at all. As perfect as her girlfriend was, no one could have perfect games forever – she was just going to bounce back for the next game.
But what pissed her off was the graphic.
Azzi had been getting backlash since they hard launched at the draft last April.
Even though she had just been the Most Outstanding Player in the Final Four, her accomplishments and talents were overshadowed by the fact that they were together.
It didn't matter to them when they came out. Mostly because Dallas wasn't supposed to get the first pick again. The roster the front office had constructed had been solid, on paper at least. So, they were loud with their love – TikToks, phone cases, necklaces, birthstone rings, everything. They were finally out of college and able to love each other publicly.
But with the collapse of the Dallas Wings, the team was cemented in the lottery.
Once the reality sunk in that Dallas could very well end up with the number one pick, the couple pulled back. They didn't post each other publicly, only on close friends. They didn't go out in public unless they could enter and exit through the back. They tried to distance themselves so that people would focus on Azzi's senior season. They needed everyone to know that she earned the number one pick for how she played, not for who she was dating.
But even in all their efforts, neither girl could hide the love and adoration they had for one another. It was clear during interviews where they asked them about reuniting in Dallas. It was clear in the way Paige's eyes softened when Azzi was shown on the jumbotron during the draft.
Their relationship was beautiful, but people didn't see it that way. As soon as Azzi's name was called, narratives worsened. Heinous things were being said about Azzi on every platform.
There wasn't much that Paige could do, but they both agreed that a statement was needed. Knowing it would be better received from Paige, they outlined a short speech about the expectations they would have for the press.
And even then, more vitriol was spread, not about Paige, but about Azzi.
So, when Minnesota plastered Azzi's stats and compared them to their own rookie's, Paige was pissed.
Azzi's whole entire family was there. She would be mortified. Azzi was already going to be in her head about her performance, and what Minnesota had done was going to make it so much worse.
After the buzzer sounded, they ran straight to the back. No photos, no autographs, no shaking hands with the other team.
Paige held Azzi in the locker room and spoke life into her.
Once she seemed a little more steady, Paige let her go and went to check her phone.
There was an influx of notifications with screenshots of a tweet made by the official Lynx page.
She saw the replies on the Instagram post. The quote tweets on Twitter. They were vile and disgusting and so inhumane.
Everyone in W spaces had been very aware of the hate Azzi had been receiving, and instead of just highlighting their own rookie, the Lynx decided to bring Azzi down instead. They let her be a target for even more hate than she had already been experiencing.
She sent one of the screenshots to Phee with a four-word message. Take it down. Now.
After about twenty minutes, the post had vanished, but it was already too late. The damage had been done.
In the end, Paige fully hated the Lynx.
The transformation had been gradual at first – indifference bleeding into resentment, resentment hardening into something sharper. But watching Minnesota target Azzi, weaponize her stats, turn her girlfriend into a punching bag for their own rookie's narrative? That sealed it.
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The next time they played, they were home.
Azzi started off cold again, but she got four steals and one block on the player who was supposed to be the "best rookie" in her class. Then she had her classic Azzi Fudd Third Quarter™, and the game was in reach.
But after a few poor substitutions, Minnesota won by eight.
But that wasn't the headline after the game – Paige was.
Paige didn't like Olivia Miles. Not really.
She wasn't confident, she was arrogant. She wasn't cocky, she was entitled. She was everything Paige swore she'd never be as an athlete.
And God, she never shut up.
The first time, Paige just walked towards the bench, choosing to focus on her team.
So, when she wouldn't stop chirping, Paige had enough.
She couldn't even remember what she'd said by the time the game was over, but she looked at the player with the goggles, agitation clear on her face.
"Whatchu gon' do?" Paige asked, backing up so she could inbound the ball.
Instead of owning up to it or even standing her ground, the girl held up her hands like she was innocent.
The game continued, but by halftime, Paige was still annoyed with the Lynx pg.
Jose had given his spiel. AC gave another pep talk, telling them to get their shit together.
Then, they left them alone.
Azzi stood in front of Paige's locker, waiting for her girlfriend to acknowledge her. Once those baby blues were on her, Azzi's lips tilted up in a gentle smirk. "That was so hot, P." She bent over, just low enough to whisper in her ear. "Finish the game better than her, and I'll let you do whatever you want after we get home."
The Lynx won by eight. Olivia Miles talked her shit the entire fourth quarter, and Paige let her have it. Because at the end of the day, Minnesota could have the win. They could have their trash-talking point guard and their social media graphics and their smug little smiles.
But Paige had Azzi.
And when they got back to the locker room, when the cameras were off and the noise died down, Azzi pressed close and reminded her exactly what mattered. Not Minnesota. Not the childhood dream that had died the moment they decided to make Azzi a target.
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The drive home was charged with something electric, something unspoken but understood. Paige's hand rested high on Azzi's thigh, thumb tracing slow circles through the fabric of her sweats. Every red light felt like torture. Every mile stretched longer than the last.
Azzi kept her eyes forward, but her breathing had changed – deeper, slower, deliberate. Like she was trying to hold herself together until they crossed the threshold of their apartment.
When they finally pulled into the parking garage, Paige killed the engine but didn't move. The silence settled heavy between them, thick with anticipation.
"You outplayed her," Azzi said softly, turning to look at Paige. Her dark eyes were molten in the dim light. "Fifteen points in the second half. Six assists. Made her look like a rookie."
Paige's jaw tightened. "I had motivation."
"Yeah?" Azzi's voice dropped lower. "What kind of motivation?"
Instead of answering, Paige got out of the car. She came around to Azzi's side, opened the door, and offered her hand. When Azzi took it, Paige pulled her close – close enough that their bodies pressed together, close enough that Azzi had to tilt her head back to meet her eyes.
"The kind that's been driving me crazy since halftime," Paige murmured against her ear. "The kind that made me think about nothing but getting you home."
Azzi's breath hitched. Her fingers curled into the front of Paige's hoodie. "Then take me upstairs."
They barely made it through the door.
Paige had Azzi pressed against it the moment it clicked shut, one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding up to cup her jaw. She kissed her slowly at first – a deliberate claiming, a reminder of every promise made in that locker room.
Azzi melted into it, her usual composure fracturing with each pass of Paige's tongue. Her hands found their way under Paige's hoodie, fingernails dragging lightly across the muscles of her back.
"Bedroom," Azzi breathed between kisses.
"Impatient?" Paige teased, but she was already guiding them down the hallway, walking Azzi backward without breaking contact.
"You have no idea."
When they reached the bedroom, Paige finally pulled back. She looked at Azzi – really looked at her. Hair slightly mussed from the game, lips already swollen from kissing, chest rising and falling with anticipation. She was the most beautiful thing Paige had ever seen.
"You said I could do whatever I want," Paige said, voice low and rough.
Azzi nodded, eyes dark with want. "I meant it."
"Then I want you to let me take care of you." Paige's hands found the hem of Azzi's shirt, fingers brushing the soft skin beneath. "I want to make you forget about everything except how good I can make you feel."
Azzi's eyes fluttered closed. "Paige – "
"I want to hear you say my name like that all night." Paige lifted the shirt slowly, reverently, dropping it to the floor. Her hands traced the curve of Azzi's waist, the dip of her hips. "I want to know every sound you make when I touch you here – " Her fingers skimmed just below Azzi's sports bra. " – and here – " Lower, to the waistband of her sweats.
Azzi's hands came up to grip Paige's shoulders, steadying herself. "Then stop talking and touch me."
Paige smiled – that cocky, confident smile that made Azzi's knees weak. "So demanding." But she obliged, sliding Azzi's sports bra up and off, her hands immediately cupping the weight of her breasts. Her thumbs brushed over sensitive peaks, drawing a sharp inhale from Azzi.
"Fuck," Azzi breathed, head falling back.
"That's it, baby." Paige lowered her head, replacing her thumb with her mouth. She took her time, alternating between gentle suction and the flat of her tongue, learning what made Azzi's breath catch, what made her fingers tighten in Paige's hair.
Azzi was coming undone already, her usual reserve crumbling under Paige's attention. "P, please – "
"Please what?" Paige murmured against her skin, kissing a path down her sternum, across her ribs.
"More. I need more."
Paige hooked her fingers into Azzi's sweats and underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion. She helped Azzi step out of them, then guided her backward until her legs hit the bed.
"Lie down," Paige said, and the command in her voice sent a shiver through Azzi.
She did, settling against the pillows, completely bare and vulnerable in a way she only ever was with Paige. Her dark curls spread across the white pillowcase, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Paige stood at the foot of the bed, taking her in. "You're so fucking beautiful, Az. Do you know that?"
Azzi's cheeks flushed. Even now, after everything, Paige's words could make her blush. "Come here."
"Not yet." Paige pulled her own hoodie off, then her sports bra, her sweats. When she was finally bare, she climbed onto the bed, settling between Azzi's legs. "I want to take my time with you."
She started at Azzi's ankles, pressing kisses up her calves, the inside of her knees, her thighs. She could feel Azzi trembling beneath her touch, could hear the way her breathing had gone ragged.
"Paige, I swear to God – "
"What?" Paige looked up, eyes gleaming with mischief. "You said I could do whatever I want. I want to make you wait."
"You're evil," she whined.
"You love it though."
And Azzi did. She loved the way Paige took control, the way she made Azzi feel cherished and desired and completely undone all at once.
When Paige finally – finally – put her mouth where Azzi needed her most, Azzi's back arched off the bed. The first touch of Paige's tongue was electric, sending sparks through every nerve ending.
"Oh my God," Azzi gasped, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other tangling in Paige's hair.
Paige worked her slowly, deliberately, learning the rhythm that made Azzi's thighs tremble, that made her hips roll seeking more. She slid two fingers inside, curling them just right, and Azzi cried out.
"That's it, baby," Paige murmured against her. "Let me hear you."
Azzi was beyond words now, beyond anything except the sensation building inside her. Paige's name fell from her lips like a prayer, like a plea, like the only word that mattered.
When Paige added a third finger, when she increased the pressure of her tongue, Azzi shattered. The orgasm rolled through her in waves, her body tensing and releasing, her voice breaking on Paige's name.
Paige worked her through it, gentling her touch as Azzi came down, pressing soft kisses to her inner thighs.
When Azzi finally opened her eyes, Paige was hovering over her, a satisfied smile on her face.
"You okay?" Paige asked softly, brushing a curl away from Azzi's face.
Azzi pulled her down into a kiss, tasting herself on Paige's lips. "More than okay." She rolled them over so she was on top, straddling Paige's hips. "But now it's my turn to take care of you."
Paige's hands came up to grip Azzi's waist. "Az, you don't have to – "
"I want to." Azzi leaned down, her lips brushing Paige's ear. "I want to make you feel as good as you just made me feel. I want to thank you for defending me, for always choosing me, for being exactly who I need."
She started with Paige's mouth – a deep, claiming kiss that made the blonde's breath catch. Then she moved lower, pressing her lips to the corner of Paige's jaw, the sensitive spot just below her ear that always made her shiver.
"Az – " Paige's voice was already unsteady.
Azzi smiled against her skin. She kissed down the column of Paige's throat, feeling her pulse racing beneath her lips. She took her time at the hollow of her collarbone, using her tongue to trace the delicate bone before moving to Paige's chest.
Her hands mapped the terrain of Paige's body – the defined muscles of her shoulders, the curve of her ribs, the flat plane of her stomach. She kissed every inch she touched, worshipping the body that had held her through so much pain, that had defended her without hesitation.
When her mouth closed around Paige's nipple, the blonde gasped, her back arching off the bed. Azzi used her tongue, her teeth, alternating between gentle and demanding until Paige was trembling beneath her.
"Fuck, Azzi – " Paige's hands tangled in her curls, not pulling, just holding on.
Azzi moved lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the center line of Paige's abs. She could feel the muscles jumping under her lips, could hear the way Paige's breathing had gone ragged and uneven.
"You're so beautiful," Azzi murmured against her skin. "Do you know that? Do you know what you do to me?"
She kissed along the sharp cut of Paige's hip bones, her hands sliding down to grip her thighs. When she spread them wider, Paige made a sound that was half-whimper, half-plea.
Azzi looked up, meeting those blue eyes that had watched her with such devotion. "I love you," she said simply. "And I'm going to show you exactly how much."
The first touch of her tongue made Paige cry out, her hips bucking involuntarily. Azzi held her steady, using her hands to keep Paige's thighs spread as she worked her with deliberate precision.
She knew Paige's body almost as well as she knew her own – knew the exact pressure that made her gasp, the rhythm that made her thighs shake, the spot that made her lose all coherent thought.
"Oh God, Az – " Paige's voice broke on her name. "Baby, I – "
Azzi doubled her efforts, adding her fingers to the mix. She slid two inside, curling them just right while her tongue maintained its relentless pace. Paige's hands fisted in the sheets, her head thrown back, her body taut as a bowstring.
"That's it," Azzi encouraged, her voice muffled but clear. "Let go for me, P. I've got you."
She added a third finger, stretching and filling, and Paige shattered. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave – her whole body tensing, then releasing in waves of pleasure. Azzi's name fell from her lips over and over, a broken mantra of love and need and complete surrender.
Azzi worked her through it, gentling her touch as the aftershocks rolled through Paige's body. She pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs, her hip bones, back up her stomach until she could collapse beside her.
Paige pulled her close immediately, both of them breathing hard, skin flushed and damp with sweat.
"Holy shit," Paige finally managed, her voice wrecked.
Azzi pressed a kiss to her shoulder, then her neck, then her jaw. "You deserved that. You deserve everything."
"I love you," Paige whispered, tightening her arms around her. "So fucking much, Az."
"I love you too," Azzi replied, her voice soft but certain. "More than basketball, more than anything. You know that, right?"
Paige turned her head to look at her, blue eyes still hazy with pleasure but full of emotion. "I know. I love you too, Az. Always."
Just them. Just this.
Paige would never wear a Lynx jersey again. She'd never play in front of her hometown crowd as one of their own. And she was fine with that.
Because some things were worth more than a dream you grew up with.
Some things – some people – were worth choosing over and over again, no matter what it cost you.
Azzi was that for her.
And Minnesota? They could keep their franchise. Paige had everything she needed right here.
