are you my soulmate?
maybe the team’s endless meddling isn’t such a bad thing after all, even if you do wake up in a bed that isn't yours with a slight hangover. (16k of chaos and confessions)
Alexia knew, objectively, that inviting nearly the entire team over to her house had been her own decision.
That did not stop her from regretting it a little now.
(Majorly. Majorly regretting it.)
“Well,” Irene murmured from beside her, sipping calmly from her bottle of beer. “At least they haven’t broken anything yet.”
“Don’t jinx it, Irene.”
Alexia kept her eyes on the scene playing out in her backyard, her fingers curled loosely around the neck of her own bottle. The condensation was already slicking her palm, a losing battle against the lingering heat of a Barcelona summer dusk.
Around them, the garden had settled into the easy, sprawling chaos of an end-of-season night. Music drifted from the speakers in her ceiling, a mix of reggaeton and something a little mellower (it was a barbecue after all, not an Ibiza outing). There was a rare and welcome kind of lightness to the team when the pressures of the season finally broke.
Alexia watched them all, a passive smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. It was a good view. It was her home, filled with her people, at the end of a year that had taken everything out of them. She should have been relaxed.
She wasn’t.
Her gaze drifted, entirely out of her own control, toward the other end of the patio.
You were sitting on the low stone wall, one leg tucked beneath you, laughing at something Kika had just said. You were holding a fresh beer – your third, if Alexia’s internal, irritatingly precise counter was accurate – and the fading sunlight was catching the edge of your shoulder, turning the skin there a soft, golden tone.
You looked at ease. A part of the landscape.
And you hadn't looked at Alexia once in twenty minutes.
“You're doing it again,” Irene said, her voice dropping below the volume of the music, though she didn't turn her head. She just took another slow sip of her beer, her eyes fixed forward on the patio.
Alexia’s jaw tightened. She took a deliberate drink of her own beer, the crisp bitterness doing nothing to clear the sudden, tight heat in her throat. “Doing what?”
“Staring at her like you're trying to figure out if she's a tactical problem you can solve by running harder.” Irene shifted her weight, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “It's June, Ale. The season is over. You don't have to mark her out of the game anymore.”
“I am not marking her," Alexia muttered, her voice clipped, though her ears felt suddenly warmer than the night air warranted. “I am hosting. I am ensuring my guests have everything they need.”
“Right. Of course.” Irene tapped her bottle against Alexia's with a dull clink. “That must be why you've spent the last ten minutes looking like you want to, first, physically remove Kika from her personal space, and then personally remove her clothes.”
Alexia choked.
A sudden, dramatic splash of a cough that sent the crisp liquid straight to the back of her throat. She swallowed hard, her knuckles tightening around the neck of her bottle as she tried, with every ounce of discipline possessed, to keep her features entirely flat.
“Irene,” She hissed, her voice dropping to the low and lethal register that usually meant she was scolding a teammate for mouthing off to the referee, seconds away from a yellow.
“What?”
Irene didn’t even blink. She just took another casual sip, the glass bottle clinking softly against her teeth as she watched Patri teach Clara, who apparently had a bit of a fear of open flames, carefully flip the meat over on the grill. The younger midfielder managed two steaks before she screeched and jumped away as the juices sizzled on the coals.
“Watch your mouth,” Alexia muttered, her cheeks burning with a heat that had absolutely nothing to do with the warm Mediterranean air. She shifted her stance, deliberately turning her back slightly toward the patio to break her own line of sight. “She’s a teammate. It is completely inappropriate to say things like that. If anyone heard you–”
“Nobody is listening, Ale. Everyone is halfway into their fourth drink, except you, who has been nursing that same bottle like a sixteen-year-old at their first house party. And Patri, who I’m convinced is trying to smoke us all out with that grill.” Irene finally turned her head, fixing the captain with a calm, unimpressed look. “And let’s be honest–”
“I don’t want you to be honest.”
“–if I said that in the locker room? Half the squad would agree with me. The tension between you is thicker than Pere’s hair.”
Alexia closed her eyes for a brief second. “There is no tension, Irene.”
“There is enough tension to string a tennis racket!” Irene exclaimed with an outraged lift of her shoulders, though entirely untroubled by the stare she was receiving. “You’ve spent the last six weeks passing to her only when necessary in training because every time you get within a two-metre radius of her, you look like you’ve forgotten how to play football. You have also spent almost the whole season blushing like a love-sick teenager anytime you talk to her.”
“Oh my God, no I h–”
“It’s pathetic, really.” Irene shrugged with a sigh. “You’re the captain. Fix up and fix it.”
“There is nothing to fix!” Alexia insisted, though… her words felt hollow even to her own ears.
She knew Irene was right. At least about the physical reality of it– the blushes. She really was like a teenager with a crush.
And in training, too. Which was fucking foolish.
It was a strange and irritating sort of paralysis that’d settled into her bones recently. On the pitch, she could read a game three steps ahead of anyone else; a trait she’d always been proud of. She knew exactly where the space would open and exactly when to release the ball. That didn’t change during actual games, which she was glad for.
But when you ran up beside her, when your shoulder brushed hers in the midfield or when you gave her that small breathless grin after a solid transition? Her brain simply emptied out. It was a biological design flaw.
Two ballon d’ors, maybe soon to be three, and she still went weak at the knees in training when her crush smiled at her.
So unprofessional.
“If you say so.” Irene murmured, her tone dripping with an infuriating lack of belief. She tapped her fingers against her beer bottle. “But if you don’t do something about it before pre-season, so two whole months, I’m going to actually bang your heads together. Concussion protocol date. In bed. Low-lighting, no phone distractions…”
“My god, Irene. Two kids has sunk you beyond saving.” Alexia tutted under her breath with an eye roll.
“I haven’t slept in two days, Ale. I think I can see the veins in my eyes.”
Before Alexia could express any semblance of concern for the Basque woman, a loud burst of laughter erupted from the low stone wall.
Alexia’s eyes snapped back over her shoulder, bypassing her own rules.
Kika had her arm thrown over your shoulders now, her face bright and animated as she leaned in close to your ear, whispering something that had you throwing your head back, your laughter clear over the music. You looked slightly flushed, the tipsy looseness of the evening finally catching up to you as you leaned into Kika’s side.
Right on cue, Marta drifted past the wall, subtly dropping a fresh, cold bottle into your lap while winking at Kika. It was a seamless handoff, so quick that under normal circumstances Alexia wouldn’t have thought twice about it.
But tonight, with Irene’s words lingering in the air, Alexia’s eyes narrowed.
There was also a huddle forming. Patri and Clara had abandoned the cooking lesson and were now drifting toward you, effectively cordoning you off into a small circle of the yard.
“They're up to something.” Alexia grumbled, her host instincts overriding her embarrassment.
Irene followed her gaze, her eyes tracking the movement of the younger players. A tiny, knowing smirk touched the corner of her lips, though she quickly hid it behind another drink.
“They're just enjoying the night, Ale.” Irene said smoothly, though she didn't sound too convincing. “You should do the same. Go talk to someone who isn't me.”
“Ale!” Patri’s voice boomed across the grass, cutting through the heavy reggaeton beat. She was holding up an empty green bottle, shaking it upside down for emphasis. “The cooler out here is empty! We are parched!”
The brunette let out a slow sigh, shooting a sideways glance at Irene. “Parched, she says. They’ve gone through four crates in two hours. Why did I host this, again?”
Before she could even take a step toward the glass double doors of her kitchen, Patri shouted again, her eyes darting over toward the stone wall with a look that was too sharp for someone who’d been allegedly huffing grill smoke and an unknown amount of beers all evening.
“Oye! Don’t go on your own, it’s heavy! You–” Patri pointed a blunt finger directly at you, your alcohol-flushed face blinking in surprise. “Go help her. Show some respect to our host.”
“I c-can manage perfectly fine–” Alexia started, her voice tight, but Kika was already giving you a gentle, completely unnecessary shove from the wall.
“Go on, help her out.” Kika grinned, her fingers subtly tapping your hip as you stood up.
You didn’t look annoyed at all. In fact, as you steadied your footing against the grass, a warm smile broke across your face. The type of smile that only came after three and a half beers; unfiltered and lacking the careful, self-conscious guard you usually kept up around her.
You looked straight at Alexia, your eyes slightly glassy but full of a soft, hazy affection.
“Lead the way, our gracious host.” You said, your voice a little louder, a little looser than normal.
Alexia’s chest did a violent and uncalled-for flip.
She swallowed hard, offering you an awkward knot of a smile in return, and grabbed the cooler before turning on her heel to hide the immediate pink flush creeping up the back of her neck.
As the glass doors slid shut behind the two of you, cutting off the bass of the music, a sudden silence descended upon the garden.
Irene didn’t move from her spot, but she didn’t have too. Within three seconds, a conspiratorial huddle had formed exactly where she stood. Marta arrived first, holding her beer like a weapon, closely followed by Vicky, Cata, and Pina, while Patri abandoned the grill entirely to jog over. On the other side of the patio, Kika immediately corralled Clara, Esmee, and Sydney to follow her over too.
The rest of the squad, the ones who hadn’t been roped into the weeks of subtle matchmaking (or just didn’t want to involve themselves), simply watched on from the outdoor sofas with varying expressions of amusement and exasperation.
“Alright, we don’t have much time.” Patri said as she wiped her brow with the back of her forearm, smelling faintly of smoke. She leaned into the center of the huddle, her eyes locked onto the kitchen window where two silhouettes were moving behind the glass. “They’re in the pantry. If Alexia takes her time to count the bottles like she usually does, we have a few minutes.”
“She will definitely count them.” Marta scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes were gleaming with mischief. “Anyway, not the problem. The problem is that they’ve been doing this awkward dance all season, these last couple months especially. I am tired of watching them exchange glances across the tables at the canteen like they’re in a culebrón.”
There was a collective noise of agreement, along with a few comments of exasperation and tutting of tongues.
“We all are.” Cata chimed in. “It’s painful. Last week, she asked Alexia to put the GPS thing in her vest, and Alexia’s face was red for the whole hour.”
Irene stood at the edge of the circle, her head tilted slightly as she kept watch. “Alexia won’t budge. She’s too stubborn, and she’s convinced she’s being professional by hiding it. If we leave it to her, next season will come around and we’ll be stuck in the exact same loop.”
Kika nodded her head towards where you stood in the window, watching Alexia.
“She’s loose tonight.” The Portuguese woman whispered with a fierce grin. “I’ve been making sure she’s never got an empty bottle.”
Vicky whistled and slapped Kika on the back in praise.
“She’s at that perfect stage where she’s relaxed enough to ramble about what’s inside her head, but she needs a push. She’s too intimidated by Alexia… when they’re looking right at each other. The second Alexia makes eye contact, her guard goes right back up.”
Irene spots that Kika looks incredibly consumed by her thoughts after that. A plan is building, she can sense it. She loves it.
“So we separate them?” Clara asked, her brow furrowing as she tried to visualise the logistics. “That’s stupid. And Patri just sent them inside together.”
“No, tonta.” Vicky tuts, swiping her over the back of the head. That sends the two of them off into some kind of cat-fight.
“No, inside is just the warm-up.” Kika smirked. A conniving look entered her eyes as she began to piece the elements together. She glanced towards the shadow of the stone wall, then toward the corner of the house where the terrace curved out of sight toward the side garden. “We need to get her to open up without feeling like she’s on display. If she thinks anyone is watching her, or if she has to look Alexia in the eye, she’ll clam up and call it a night.”
Another cacophony of curious and considering sounds.
Fingers tapped against chins and foots tapped against the floor in thought.
Until–
A dramatic gasp.
“Oh my god.” Kika breathed out. Her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes widening as a massive, borderline sinister grin broke across her face. “I know what we can do.”
Meanwhile– inside the pantry, Alexia was crouched over, her spine curved beneath the fabric of her linen shirt as she meticulously lifted bottles of beer by their necks, slotting them into the cooler.
“One… two… three.” Counting them, of course. “Four–”
“Really, Ale?” You stood with your hands on your hips, feigning an unimpressed look just to tease her.
She startled as if she’d forgotten you were there.
You stood exactly two feet away, your back pressed against a shelf stacked with neatly labelled jars of spices and herbs. The three and a half beers had settled into your limbs as a pleasant warmth, stripping away the edge of the self-consciousness that usually kept you up-right and guarded around her.
You’d just been watching her the whole time.
And as she reached for the fifth bottle, her hand froze for a fraction of a second when she caught your unblinking gaze out of the corner of her eye. The pink flush that’d started on the patio flared right back up, colouring the tips of her ears.
She cleared her throat, lifting a cardboard case of bottles and turning to face you. “Shush. Take this one. Do not drop it.”
As she pushed the case into your arms, your fingers brushed. Literally just the briefest sliding contact, and her breath hitched.
You caught the box against your chest, letting out a lazy chuckle that vibrated right against the cardboard. “Please, Capi, I have excellent hand-eye coordination. You know that.”
You laughed to yourself, missing how the harmless comment sounded strangely… inappropriate to her ears. She had to clear her throat again.
Then, you tilted your head. A teasing smile crinkled the corners of your eyes. “Unless you think my form has dropped since the season ended?”
Her eyes widened as she had her back to you, accidentally dropping one of the bottles unceremoniously into the cooler. You let out a scandalised gasp, before you tutted at her for it.
“That doesn’t even make sense.” She grumbled under her breath at your comment, making a mental note to watch how much you drank for the rest of the night. You were far too focused on the fact she’d nearly smashed all the bottles to hear it.
The brunette stood, once she was finally happy with the collection of drinks, and she turned to look at you. Only to get entirely trapped by how relaxed you were, how easily you were sliding into her space without a care in the world.
“Your form is fine,” She muttered. She tried for a stern, captain-like expression, but the severe pink tinge stretching across her cheeks completely ruined the effect. “Your discipline, however, leaves much to be desired. You’re supposed to be helping, not mocking me.”
“I am helping,” You drawled happily, shifting the weight of the box against your hip as you took a step toward the door, not without a final glance back at her face. “And I can follow instructions perfectly well when I want to, thank you.”
Alexia let out a quiet huff that was supposed to be a sigh but sounded suspiciously like a defeated, flustered laugh.
“Just walk,” She murmured, nudging the door open with her elbow. “Before they come inside and raid the kitchen.”
When the double doors opened again, the atmosphere in the garden made Alexia’s footsteps slow down.
The team looked normal. Casual.
Far. Too. Casual.
The transition was so jarring it felt manufactured. Patri was suddenly back at the grill, leaning over the food on it with the hyper-focused expression of a surgeon mid-operation. Marta and Vicky were sitting on the edge of their pool, dangling their feet in the water and conversing with a rigid calmness, their shoulders strangely stiff.
You, completely oblivious to the weird shift, didn’t notice a thing. The moment you stepped outside, a wide grin broke across your face.
“Supplies have arrived!”
Cata, Pina, Patri and Kika erupted into a chorus of cheers that felt three notches too enthusiastic for a box of beers. You laughed, buoyed by the alcohol and the affection, and trotted over to dump the case onto the grass beside them, immediately getting pulled into their chaos.
Alexia, however, remained rooted to the spot. Her eyes scanned the yard, her analytical brain instantly picking up the anomalies.
She locked eyes with Irene first. The defender didn’t say a word; she just took a slow sip of her beer and shrugged one shoulder, her expression blank. Then, Alexia’s gaze flicked to Marta, who chose that exact moment to stare intently at the water rippling around her ankles, refusing to meet her eyes.
Finally, Alexia’s eyes landed on Clara.
The younger midfielder looked like she was carrying a state secret. Her shoulders were hunched, her mouth pressed into a thin line, and she gave Alexia a sheepish look that practically screamed ‘I am hiding a secret that I am greatly excited by, please don’t ask me about it otherwise I’ll accidentally give it away.’
The captain’s jaw tightened.
She grumbled something incoherent and slightly threatening under her breath, her fingers tightening around the handle of the cooler before she finally forced herself to walk across the garden toward the noise of the group.
With an unnecessary dramatic flair, she dumped the cooler onto the grass with a deliberate thud, hoping the sound would startle into someone giving up the game.
No such luck.
Patri just kept aggressively poking one of the steaks to see how much it’d cooked, and Cata gave her an overly bright smile that looked rehearsed.
Alexia kept her eyes narrowed, her gaze sweeping over the perimeter like a prison guard. Kika was standing just behind Cata, her arms crossed, watching you with an expression that was far too pleased with itself. When Kika caught Alexia looking, her grin didn’t falter. It just turned incredibly knowing.
“Alright. Everyone stop.” Alexia said firmly, stood with her hands on her hips as everyone turned to her. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on?” Marta repeated from the edge of the pool, her voice trailing over the grass with an air of complete innocence. “We’re just enjoying this lovely summer night celebrating the team in the beautiful garden of your mansion, Ale.”
“It’s not a mansion–”
“Why do you always assume there is a crisis?” Vicky asked with a grin that just confirmed Alexia’s fear.
“Because of the smile on your face, and because Clara looks like she’s about to hyperventilate.” Alexia countered smoothly, pointing toward the younger midfielder in question.
Clara immediately gasped, her eyes darting frantically toward the others for backup. “I’m just– the smoke! The grill smoke is getting in my eyes! I’m going to go… rinse them. In the bathroom.”
The girl practically bolted out of the garden and into the house.
“She’s fine, Ale. Leave the kid alone.” Kika chuckled, stepping forward and smoothly bypassing Alexia altogether.
The Portuguese woman’s attention pivoted to you, where you were happily letting Pina explain a complicated card game she wanted to play later whilst not understanding a thing she was saying.
Kika dropped an affectionate arm around your neck, leaning her weight into you.
“Hey. You’re looking a little flushed, how many of those have you had?” She tapped the side of your beer bottle that you’d picked up after coming back out.
“Three and a half.” You replied proudly, before you tilted your head back at Alexia. “But Alexia likes to keep count apparently, so maybe she’s got a better idea.”
Alexia closed her eyes, praying for the ground to swallow her whole. Por favor. Her hair was going to be grey by the end of the night.
“Right! Food’s ready!” Patri announced loudly. Saved by the bell.
“Perfect timing.” Kika beamed, not looking at Alexia as she began steering you away from the main garden area. “It’s getting a bit chaotic out here. Let’s go sit around the side garden, the view of the sunset is much better from there anyway.”
You blinked, the alcohol slowing your reaction time by half a second. Then you went willingly, thrilled by the promise of good food and a sunset, grabbing a plate from Patri as you walked by her.
Your eyes found Alexia as you walked past, giving her a soft and slightly questioning glance without really thinking about it. The brunette caught it, her heart doing another one of those terribly inconvenient flips. She wanted to tell you to stay. Pull you away from Kika’s obvious, hovering trap.
“Are you coming, Ale?” You called back over your shoulder, giving her the perfect opportunity.
“Maybe in a minute.”
She remained rooted to the spot. Her eyes tracked you as you walked, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting decisions.
Part of her – the part that wore the armband and took care of her home – knew she should stay right here, keeping an eye on Patri’s dangerous handling of the barbecue and ensuring the rest of the squad didn’t completely derail the night.
But the other part of her, which had been steadily gaining ground for months, just wanted to give in. For once, she wanted to drop the responsibility, walk around the corner, and enjoy your company without the barrage of overthinking that normally consumed her whenever she let her thoughts drift to you.
She took a breath, trying to unravel the ball of hesitation in her chest. And she made a move to follow after you.
“Let them go ahead, Ale.” Marta said smoothly, materialising out of nowhere and wrapping her arm around Alexia’s shoulders. Her grip iron-like, she guided Alexia towards the opposite side of the garden. “You need to eat, soak up all that beer before you start doing sentimental speeches again.”
The midfielder rolled her eyes at the mention of the night in Oslo following the Champions League win, where she may have had a few drinks and didn’t really… let the microphone leave her sight for about half an hour.
“You all wanted me to do a speech, and then you complained when I did.” She scoffed.
Her internal alarm bells were ringing loudly as Marta led her away. The division was now fully functional. You’d been isolated by Kika, Clara, Esmee, and a few others, who were currently settling you onto a cluster of floor cushions just around the corner of her house– completely out of Alexia’s line of sight where she ended up sitting with Marta. Still close enough to hear your laughter though, which wasn’t lost on her.
Patri slammed a plate of food in front of her at the glass table, while Irene, Cata, Marta and Pina took up the remaining seats around the table. Effectively forming a human wall.
“What is this?” The captain hissed under her breath, glaring at Irene who was cutting into a piece of steak. “Why is everyone acting so fucking weird?”
“We’re just eating, Ale.” Irene answered placidly, not even looking up. “Eat up. You’ve been really tense all day.”
“I wonder why” Alexia muttered, her chest tightening as she heard another distinct burst of laughter from around the corner. It sounded a little higher, a little more uninhibited. Kika was definitely giving you more drinks. “Clara looked like she was going to throw up from anxiety when I walked past her.”
“Clara has a weak stomach,” Marta lied seamlessly, taking a huge bite of bread. “Don’t worry about it.”
Around the corner, hidden in the shadows of the side garden, phase two of Kika’s master plan was already in full swing.
The air was cooler over there, the light of the dusk fading into a deep, bruised violet against the horizon. You were leaning back against the masonry, your legs stretched out on the grass, feeling incredibly warm and thoroughly disconnected from any form of reality. The noise of the main party was just a background noise now.
“Drink up,” Kika whispered, clinking her own bottle against yours with a grin. She leaned in close, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. “So… you were in that pantry for a while. Just counting bottles, or what?”
You let out a hazy, amused sigh, the alcohol making your head spin in a way that was weirdly pleasant. “She really was counting them. Literally one by one. She’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah?” Kika’s eyes gleamed as she exchanged a look with Esmee over your head. “Just ridiculous? Or do you like it when she gets all captain-like and bossy?”
Under normal circumstances, you would’ve laughed the comment off, changed the subject, or lay into Kika for suggesting such a stupid thing. Yet, with four beers humming in your system and the relief of a four-titled season, your guard was completely gone.
You looked down at your bottle, a helpless smile tugging at your lips as you thought about the way Alexia’s ears had turned that furious shade of pink when your fingers brushed.
“She’s just…” You trailed off, your voice dropping to a quiet mutter that made Kika virtually vibrate with excitement. “She’s always so put-together and… pretty. Even when she’s stressed, she’s really pretty. It’s annoying.”
Clara let out a tiny, stifled squeak, immediately covering her mouth with both hands afterwards.
“Go on,” Kika nudged your shoulder gently as she baited the trap. “Tell us more. We won’t say a word.”
You took another slow sip, the cold liquid taking the edge off the sudden heat in your face. The violet dusk was deepening around the corner of the house, and with every passing minute, the boundaries you usually kept so firmly in place during the season felt farther and farther away.
“It’s just…” You started, waving your bottle in the air as you searched for the words. “She never drops the act. She walks around like she’s completely untouchable, like nothing can faze her. And then she looks at me, and I swear she’s trying to read my mind or pick apart whatever I’m doing. It throws me off completely.”
Kika leaned in further. “Throws you off bad? Or throws you off good?”
“It’s just infuriating,” You sighed, though the massive, helpless smile on your face completely ruined the defense. You leaned your head back against the cool stone wall, looking up at the first few stars blinking into view through the deep purple sky. “Because she’ll do that quiet, serious routine, and then the second I actually step into her space, or—or brush against her like in the pantry? She just freezes. She blushes. It’s like this tiny crack in her armour where she's a completely different person for two seconds, and it makes me want to…”
You trailed off, the realization of what you were actually about to say finally catching up to your beer-soaked brain.
Your mouth snapped shut. Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at the three girls sitting around you. Sydney was leaning forward so far she was practically falling off her cushion, while Esmee looked like she was witnessing history being made in real-time. Clara was still holding her breath, her hands glued tightly over her face.
“Want to what?” Kika prompted, evidently hanging onto your every word and desperate for you to continue.
“Nothing!” You said quickly, cheeks burning a flaming red. You took a hasty gulp of your beer to cover the slip. “Nothing. I’m drunk. Forget I said that.”
You were talking to possibly the worst people on the team for gossip. Oh fuck.
“Oh, no, we are not forgeting that.” Kika grinned. She knew she had you right on the edge. If she pushed you too hard now, your defenses would go back up. Luckily for you, she had the perfect next move. “In fact, I think you need a safe space to properly vent about this.”
Meanwhile, back at the table, Alexia was staring blankly at her plate as her fork pushed around a piece of asparagus.
The human wall around her was proving to be a lost cause; her ears were hyper-tuned to whatever was occurring around the corner. The murmurs had quieted down, and she hadn’t heard your voice in almost three minutes.
“Ale.” Irene’s voice cut through her thoughts.
Alexia blinked, looking up. Irene hadn’t stopped eating but her eyes were fixed on the captain.
“If you chew through your lower lip, you won’t be able to talk tomorrow.” Irene told her. “Relax, girl. They aren’t going to kidnap her.”
“They are definitely doing something.” Alexia whispered fiercely so that Patri wouldn’t hear. “I know Kika. She had that look in her eyes. The up-to-no-good look. She’s plotting.”
“Then let her plot.” Caro chimed in smoothly from her left. “Maybe she will do the heavy lifting for you. God knows you’ve had all the time in the world and haven’t made a single move.”
Alexia opened her mouth to deliver a thoroughly scathing response, but before she could speak, a small figure came shuffling around the stone corner.
It was Clara. The younger midfielder walked with her hands jammed deep into her pockets, her head down, completely refusing to make eye contact with anyone at the main table as she headed straight for the kitchen doors.
Alexia’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Clara.”
The girl froze, her shoulders snapping up to her ears. She slowly turned her head, giving Alexia a terrified, trembling smile. “Yes, Capi?”
“Where is she?” Alexia asked, her voice dropping into that commanding register which brooked absolutely no arguments.
“She’s… around the corner,” Clara stammered, her voice squeaking slightly on the last word. “With Kika. They’re just talking. And I’m just going to get water.”
She practically threw herself through the sliding glass doors, leaving them to bounce shut behind her.
Alexia stood up. The chair scraped loudly against the stone tiles of the patio.
“Alexia, sit down,” Patri groaned. “The meat is getting cold.”
“I’m the host,” Alexia muttered, her jaw set in a line that Irene knew meant there was no stopping her. She smoothed down the front of her linen shirt, her heart hammering a frantic, erratic rhythm against her ribs. “I am going to check on my guests.”
She didn’t even make it past the edge of the table before Patri was up and out of her chair.
“Sit down, Ale.” Patri commanded. “You’ve been hovering over everything like a helicopter parent since we all got here. I’ll go inside and make sure Clara isn’t having an anxiety attack.”
Alexia opened her mouth to argue as her eyes darted toward the stone corner of the house, but a warning look from Irene pinned her to the spot. With a frustrated click of her tongue, the captain begrudgingly sank back into her chair.
Patri darted inside and intercepted a frantic-looking Clara right as she was about to go back outside.
“How’s it going?” The older midfielder asked in a hushed tone, grabbing Clara by the shoulder.
“She’s basically gone already,” Clara answered, her eyes wide as she gripped a glass of water. “She’s so tipsy she’s practically floating. She just confessed to Kika that she thinks Alexia is beautiful when she’s stressed! Kika is setting her up right now– we need you.”
Patri’s face split into a slow smirk. “Perfect. I’ll go to them, you go to Ale.”
Around the now infamous corner, entirely unaware of the tactics and the planning that was occurring, you were staring at Kika with a look of profound skepticism.
“This is the stupidest thing I have ever heard in my life.” You groaned, voice slurring just a fraction. “You are literally insane.”
“It’s not insane! It’s… therapeutic.” Kika argued back smoothly, sitting cross-legged on her cushion and looking extraordinarily proud of herself. “You’re completely bottled up! You’ve been carrying it around almost all season. Whereas tonight, you are actually relaxed enough to talk about it.”
“So your grand solution is a fake confessional?” You deadpanned with a breathless laugh. “You seriously think sitting me and Patri around the corner of a wall from each other as I ramble is going to help me get over my crush on Alexia?”
Kika didn’t even flinch. She shrugged and threw her hands out. “Duh! Yeah! It’s all psychological. You don’t have to look at her, she can just listen and give you typical-Patri advice, and you get it out of your system. Win-win.”
You closed your eyes, taking a moment to actually think through the fog in your brain.
The four beers were making the ridiculous proposal sound strangely, terrifyingly logical. If you just confessed to Patri – who was too loud and dense to ever overthink it anyway – maybe the weight of it would finally stop pressing down on your chest every time you saw Alexia walk into the locker room.
You let out a long, defeated sigh, your shoulders slumping into the cushions. “Fine. Fine, whatever. Let's just do it.”
Kika bit her lower lip, desperately trying to suppress the victorious shriek that was threatening to burst out of her throat. She cleared her throat quickly, leaning closer to run you through the logistics.
“Okay, okay. Ground rules,” Kika whispered fiercely, her eyes scanning the shadows. “Patri doesn't know, obviously. Because you haven't told her.”
(Technically true, you hadn’t told her yourself. You had told Caro in a moment of weakness, who told Marta, who both told Irene, who then told Patri. And it had spread like a wildfire from there.)
“Don’t say Alexia’s name. Don’t say anything about training or the team– or just anything to do with football.” Kika continued, tapping your knee for emphasis. “Just refer to her as this girl you like. If you give it away, it'll make things a bit awkward, and the whole thing is ruined. Got it?”
You blinked your heavy eyes, processing the instructions with a slow nod. When put that way…
“Okay.” You said with a shrug. A hazy smile returned to your face as you looked back at Kika. “Okay, yeah. It’s actually a pretty good idea. Let’s do it.”
“Excellent.” Kika drawled, basically bouncing on her heels as she scrambled up from her floor cushion. “Take a pillow, go get comfy by the wall. I’ll go fetch our priest!”
You did as you were told, chuckling under your breath at the thought of anyone calling Patri a priest.
You got comfy, legs outstretched with one foot over the other, hands linked together and resting in your lap. There was some commotion you overheard, but honestly, you felt like you were floating in a very comfortable and slightly dizzying bubble.
End of season celebrations really were fun.
“Alright, Patri’s ready,” Kika whispered as she crouched in front of you. “I’m going to leave you two to it. Remember the rules.”
Then, her footsteps faded away. You shifted a little, pressing your spine firmly against the rough stone brick wall. Around the corner, you could hear someone shuffling around.
“Patri?” You called out.
“Yeah, tía, I’m here.” Patri’s voice boomed back, muffled a little by the wall, but definitely her. Perhaps if you weren’t so far gone, you would have noticed how uncharacteristically subdued she was. “Go ahead. Kika said you needed to get some things off your chest.”
You let out a long, ragged breath, staring down at the grass between your knees. “It’s just… I’m so tired of feeling like this. I’ve spent months pretending I don’t completely lose my mind every time she walks into a room. And it’s exhausting, Patri. It really is.”
There was a brief pause from the other side of the wall. “Right. And… what exactly does she do that loses you your mind?”
“Everything,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands with an embarrassed laugh. “The way she carries herself. She’s just so incredibly composed, you know? Like nothing in the world could ever rattle her. She has this quiet authority that completely takes over the room, and whenever she actually focuses on me, I feel like I forget how to breathe.”
Around the corner, Patri’s eyes were wide as saucers. She was gripping the edge of the stone masonry, her chest heaving as she swallowed down a massive laugh. This was gold. This was worth every single Euro she’d bet against Marta earlier in the week.
“But the worst part,” you continued, your voice dropping into a quiet, almost melancholic murmur, “is when she drops it. Just for a second. Like earlier tonight, we were… well, we were somewhere quiet, and our fingers accidentally brushed. And she just froze. She turned this beautiful, furious shade of pink right to the tips of her ears. It’s like there’s this whole other side to her, this incredibly soft, flustered side that she tries so hard to hide. And it makes me want to just… pull her out of her own head and kiss her until she completely forgets to be serious.”
Patri went completely rigid. Madre mía. She had expected some light pining, maybe a bit of standard venting, but this? Uff. It made her more giddy than the quadruple they’d won.
“Wow.” Patri cleared her throat. She needed Alexia here. Right now. “That’s heavy, tía. I get why you needed to get this off your chest. Go ahead.”
Alexia, still back at the main table, was oscillating with irritation.
Marta was in the middle of an elaborate and definitely fabricated story about a dog that’d breached her apartment complex and ran rings around the security for hours, while Irene was nodding along with an expression of feigned interest.
“And then,” Marta waved her fork in the air, leaning across the table. “The dog stopped outside our door and sat there, looking straight into my soul. I think it was a sign.”
“Marta, I don’t care about the dog.” Alexia snapped, her patience completely evaporated. “I swear, I will–”
And it was that precise moment where Kika came jogging over, cutting Alexia’s threat off before she could finish it. She did not look casual. She bypassed the rest of the table and grabbed Alexia by the table, hauling her out of her chair.
“Kitchen, now.” Kika demanded.
The captain’s mind went into overdrive. “What happened? Is she– is everyone okay?”
“Just move!” The Portuguese grunted, dragging her through the glass doors.
The second they clicked shut, cutting off the outdoor noise, Kika spun Alexia around and her hands clamped down on her captain’s shoulders with a terrifying level of intensity.
“Listen to me carefully.” Kika whispered. “You are going to go around the corner right now. You are going to sit in Patri’s place, and you are not going to say a single word. You are just going to listen.”
Alexia’s brow furrowed, a defensive look entering her eyes. “What are you talking about? What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything!” Kika hissed, shaking her slightly. “In fact I have done you a favour, alright? She is currently pouring her heart out to Patri, Ale. And if you don’t go over there and take her place right now, I will post the videos of you dancing after Oslo and not delete them.”
Alexia froze comically. Wide eyes as her heart skipped a beat, and all. Her jaw slackened slightly as the piece shifted in her mind, the realisation hitting her a few moments later.
“She’s… what?” Alexia breathed out.
“Go,” Kika demanded, giving her a shove towards the side door that led to the patio curve. “And for the love of God, Ale, don’t mess this up. I have a hundred euros riding on you taking the shot tonight.”
The brunette didn’t even have time to process the threat before Kika was fully pushing her through the side door. The second her feet hit the cooler outdoor pavement, she was completely ambushed.
A solid, tanned arm clamped around her chest as Marta appeared beside her, while Irene smoothly blocked any path of retreat. And before Alexia could even inhale to demand what they were doing, Vicky’s palm slapped firmly over her mouth, clamping her lips shut.
Together, they muscled Alexia down the small stretch of pavement like a high-value asset under guard. Alexia wasn’t even fighting them; her legs were moving on instinct, her wide eyes fixed ahead as her brain tried to process everything Kika had just told her.
Around the stone corner, you were still leaning your head back against the brickwork. The dizzying buzz of alcohol had completely isolated you from the quiet rustling of footsteps the the brief scuffle just a few feet away.
Patri, seeing the cavalry arrived, executed a flawless retreat from her floor cushion and away from the wall, giving the rest of the group an enthusiastic thumbs up. Vicky shoved Alexia down onto the vacant cushion, Alexia hardly on the ground before she was ripping the hand away from her face.
She whipped her head around, baring her teeth in a silent, lethal glare at Vicky, and opened her mouth to aggressively whisper a lecture and a demand for them all to leave.
But before the first syllable could leave her tongue, your voice drifted from around the masonry.
“And I know it’s stupid, Patri.” You murmured, a self-deprecating sight hitching in your chest. “Like, I know I shouldn’t even be thinking about it. But then Alexia smiles at me after a tough session, or she does that little thing where she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s listening to me speak, and I just… I completely lose it.”
Alexia went utterly still.
The reprimand died in her throat. Her hand, which had been raised to shove Vicky away, froze in mid-air before slowly dropping back down to her lap. Her chest swelled, her heart hammering so hard against her ribs she was certain you would hear it.
Alexia. You’d said her name.
To the right of her, hidden away from your eye line, various members of the team who were clearly in on this huddled together. The smug, triumphant smirks they’d been wearing all night had softened, replaced by a captive silence as they watched two of their teammates finally, at least approach, a bridge they’d been too scared of.
“I can’t tell her,” you continued, your tone dropping to one that sounded agonizingly vulnerable in the cool night air. You tilted your head back against the brick, staring up at the dark sky. “How am I supposed to look her in the eye and say any of this? She’s Alexia. She is a woman who needs everything to be in its exact place, who handles the weight of the world by closing herself off and locking things down. And I am just… me. I'm not organised, I'm spontaneous, and I handle pressure by trying to find something to laugh about.”
Alexia’s breath hitched. She sat perfectly rigid on the cushion, her eyes fixed on the rough stone wall separating the two of you, hanging onto every word.
“We just speak completely different languages,” You let out a bitter chuckle, tracing a pattern on the fabric of your shorts. “When she gets stressed or guarded, she builds up these massive walls to protect her peace. And because I’m naturally wide open, I always feel like I’m misreading the room around her. I don't know how to navigate those walls without feeling like I'm breaking something, or just being an annoyance to her carefully balanced life. If I say something, I’m just going to complicate things for her. She already carries so much for the team, Patri. She doesn’t need me messing with her peace.”
Every word felt like a physical weight pressing directly into Alexia’s chest. It wasn't awe or intimidation keeping you back; it was a deeply rooted fear that your core personalities would clash, that your natural brightness would only disrupt the careful structure she worked so hard to maintain.
Alexia could read between the lines. You were terrified that you weren’t good enough for her. Wouldn’t fit into her life. And that she wouldn’t like you back.
Beside Alexia, Kika bit her lip as a wave of sympathy hit her at how small you looked on the cushion, weighed down by an overthinking tipsy brain. She shot a sharp look at the side of Alexia;s head, silently urging her to fix this.
The captain didn’t move, but her fingers slowly curled into the bottom of her shirt, her jaw tightening as she listened to the raw, unfiltered truth. You thought she wanted to be left alone behind those walls. You believed she didn’t want you there.
“She definitely doesn’t need me.” You whispered to yourself, before falling silent.
How wrong you were.
Everything seemed to catch up with you, then.
Having all those buried thoughts dragged out into the open air left a raw, aching pain in your chest. The fuzzy warmth of the beer suddenly turned cold, and the burden of your own overthinking pushed a stinging dampness to your eyes.
Before the silence could stretch too long, you abruptly scrambled up from your cushion. Your knees shook slightly from the combination of the drinks and the rush of adrenaline, and with a tight swallow, you quickly wiped a stray tear from your cheek with the back of your hand. Desperate to just be alone with your thoughts, you stormed off toward the far edge of the garden, heading straight for the large outdoor sofa tucked away from the main lights.
Alexia remained stuck in her seat, in disbelief at what’d occurred, her ears straining as the sound of your hurried footsteps faded into the distance. The sudden emptiness in your voice before you left echoed in her mind, leaving her stunned.
Slowly, the captain tilted her head, her dazed glance rising until she met Irene’s eyes.
The Basque woman was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, looking down at Alexia with a definitive told-you-so expression. There was no smugness in her face, a just the satisfaction of someone who had spent months listening to Alexia stubbornly insist that she was completely misreading your signals.
Irene had heard all about Alexia’s agonisingly deep feelings for you, and after catching snippets from Patri about how much you were pining from afar, she’d tried – repeatedly – to tell her captain to just open her eyes.
Alexia simply stared up at her, jaw slack, the certainty she usually carried now shattered by the reality of what she’d just heard.
Clara was the only one who broke away from the huddle to follow you. Mostly to get away from Alexia’s surefire scathing lecture, but also because she genuinely cared about you as a teammate and someone who spent a lot of time mentoring her too, like Alexia.
And as expected, Alexia scrambled up from the floor, her posture rigid and her eyes wide as she turned on Kika, Patri, and the others.
“What the hell is wrong with you all?!” She seethed in a furious whisper that she tried to keep from carrying across the yard. “Are you insane? All of you? To trick her like that, force her into saying things when she’s– when she’s had too much to drink? It is completely out of order!”
“Oh please, Ale.” Kika scoffed, unfazed as she crossed her arms. “We didn’t force her to say anything. We just… gave her a wall.”
“It's a violation of her privacy!” Alexia defended hotly, her chest heaving underneath her linen shirt as she gestured wildly toward the empty corner. “She thought she was speaking to a friend in confidence! If she finds out you all orchestrated this, she will be devastated. You cannot just play with people’s feelings for the sake of your stupid bets!”
“Ale,” Patri cut in with a lazy, amused grin spreading across her face. “It’s very hard to take your captain’s lecture seriously when your ears are currently the colour of a ripe tomato.”
A collective, poorly suppressed titter broke out among the rest of the group. Marta had to shield her face behind Irene’s shoulder to hide her grin, while Vicky openly chuckled. The commanding authority Alexia usually radiated was completely cancelled out by the blush spreading all the way down her neck. She looked less like a quadruple-winning captain and more like an incredibly flustered teenager who had just been caught reading a diary out loud.
“Go take some time to collect your thoughts and calm down, Ale.” Irene placated with a dismissive wave. “You’ve lost the locker room on this one.”
Realising she was fighting a losing battle against a squad that knew her far too well, Alexia let out a sharp breath, before turning and beelining for her house. She deliberately avoided looking at the side garden where the sofa was hidden, and marched straight inside to get away from everyone.
Once inside, she stopped in the kitchen and took a deep inhale.
This was not the night she had envisioned.
So far, it’d left her feeling nothing but stressed, antsy, slightly irate.
As a result, her hands immediately went to work out of pure habit. She couldn’t just sit still with her brain firing at a million miles an hour. She stood at the kitchen island, her movements precise as she began wiping down surfaces that were already clean, determined to begin winding the party down for the night.
And she stayed there for a while; loading a few stray plates into the dishwasher, organising the remaining catering trays with an aggressive level of focus. Disposing of many, many bottles of beer and numerous paper plates, she couldn’t help but think of you outside.
But she stayed in the kitchen for a long time regardless of you. She didn’t want to cause you any more torment by heading outside to see you when it was her you were upset about.
Nearly forty minutes passed before she finally dropped the dish towel. Most of the team had headed inside by now, away from the darkness and cooler air of the night. They’d taken over her living, though in a much calmer manner, so she didn’t feel the need to supervise.
She took a steadying breath, before deciding to do one final sweep of the garden to bring in any bottles or plates or food before locking the door for the night.
Sliding the glass door open quietly, she stepped out outside to her empty garden.
Almost empty.
Because she then heard your shaky voice drifting through the air again. Her eyes scanned the side garden, and there she found you.
Under the dim glow of a single wall lamp, sat Clara. The younger midfielder looked completely trapped. Her legs were pulled up to her chest on the cushions, eyes wide with a look of sheer deer-in-the-headlights terror as she tried her absolute best to be a good friend.
And right next to her, curled up into an emotional ball, you were still thoroughly caught up in your tearful ramble, oblivious to the fact everyone else had headed inside to wind down for the evening.
The captain didn’t mean to eavesdrop (again), but the vulnerability in your tone anchored her feet to the floor.
“-it’s just the way she looks at me, Clara.” You sighed into your knees. “Maybe I’m imagining it, but sometimes it seems like she’s trying so hard to keep her distance, but then she’ll do something really sweet and I can’t ever get it off my mind. Because I know she has a million things on her mind. She’s running the whole show, looking after everyone, and still finds time to do these little things for me.”
Clara gave a stiff nod, eyes wide as if praying for some kind of saviour.
“Meanwhile I’m just over here trying not to trip over my own two feet when she comes near me.” You ran a hand through your hair, letting out a watery laugh that pierced right through Alexia’s chest. “I’m just a mess compared to her. It’ll never work. She’d just think I’m… some annoying distraction.”
Any lingering doubt, any tiny stubborn part of Alexia that was trying to protect herself from misinterpreting the situation, completely vanished.
And it was that exact moment that Clara’s panicked gaze flicked toward the house and locked right onto Alexia standing in the doorway.
Somehow, the girl’s eyes widened impossibly more. She looked like she’d just seen a ghost. For a second, it looked like she might actually faint from the overwhelming weight of the drama that’d unfolded.
Sensing her cue, Clara clumsily scrambled to her feet.
“Right!” Clara blurted out, her voice a little too loud and high-pitched in the quiet garden. You blinked up at her, startled by the sudden movement. “You– you know what? You need water. A very large, cold glass of water. I’ll go get some for you. Don’t move!”
Before you could even formulate a question to ask why she was being so weird, Clara practically sprinted away, past Alexia and disappearing into the safety of the house without looking back. She closed the door behind her with a click, leaving the garden silent.
You blinked into the shadows, a bit dazed by the abrupt departure, before your eyes slowly tracked the movement by the doorway.
Alexia was standing there. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her trousers, her shoulders dropped, and she was looking at you with an expression so soft that the breath caught in your throat.
She stepped fully out of the doorway, the soft scuff of her shoes against the tiles breaking the silence. She walked over slowly, deliberately giving you time to adjust to her presence so she wouldn’t startle you again.
You didn't scramble to hide your face or panic. Instead, you just tilted your head back against the sofa cushions, looking up at her through a heavy, calm, and deeply tired haze. A half-hearted smile of acknowledgment tugged at the corners of your mouth. The sharp edge of your earlier distress had melted into a quiet exhaustion; the alcohol was still humming in your system, but it had left you feeling grounded, heavy-limbed, and thoroughly spent.
“Hey,” You murmured, your voice a little raspy from crying.
“Hi,” Alexia replied softly.
She didn't hesitate. She crossed the small gap and sank down onto the outdoor sofa beside you, leaving just enough space between your shoulders so you wouldn't feel crowded, though the warmth of her presence instantly filled the cool night air. She leaned back, mirroring your relaxed posture, and looked at you sideways.
“What's up?” She asked gently, keeping her tone light and casual.
You let out a tiny, breathy sigh, your eyes dropping down to your lap where your fingers were loosely intertwined.
Despite the beers stripping away your filter, a sudden wave of self-conscious embarrassment kept you guarded. You were mortified by the scene you’d made earlier, thoroughly convinced you'd made a fool of yourself in front of Kika and Patri, even if you still had no idea Alexia had heard a single word of your confession.
“Nothing.” You answered, a little secretive, your shoulders shrugging slightly. “Just... overthinking. The usual.”
“What about?" Alexia pressed in a polite, pressure-free manner.
You just shrugged again, a disheartened frown crossing your features. “Just stupid stuff. Doesn't matter.”
Alexia watched you for a long beat, her chest tightening with an immense, overwhelming fondness.
“Matters to me.” She stated quietly.
The comment made your heart ache, but you remained quiet.
The vulnerability you had just displayed to Clara – the worries that you were too different, too loud, or too much of a disruption to her life – swirled in her head. She wanted to tell you right then and there how wrong you were, but she knew your tipsy, fragile pride couldn't handle the shock of finding out she’d been eavesdropping.
And there was always the chance you would forget it in the morning; if she was going to find the confidence to do it, she at least wanted you to remember it.
Didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take a chance, though.
Instead, a knowing smile took over her mouth. She shifted slightly on the cushion, reaching out and gently nudging the side of your knee with the back of her hand. The contact was brief, but it sent a warm jolt throughout your body.
“You know,” Alexia said, her eyes locked onto yours. “Sometimes people build up walls because… not because they want to keep everyone out, or anything. Definitely not because their lives are too perfect.”
You let out a barely there, amused breath, not looking at her.
“Sometimes they do it because they’re just trying to figure things out. And they might just be waiting for someone brave enough to ignore the structure, make a stupid joke, and break through it.”
You blinked, her words slicing through the foggy, disheartened thoughts in your brain. You turned your head and met her gaze.
The sincerity in her dark eyes was staggering. It wasn’t the look of a captain evaluating a teammate; it was personal, warm, intimate.
“Sound familiar?” Alexia wondered with a smile you recognised as too-proud, even if you hadn’t fully caught the meaning of her words.
A shy, proper smile slowly bloomed across your face. The knot in your chest loosened at the reassurance you didn’t even realise she was giving you, and you gave her a nod.
Her grin widened at the sight and her body flooded with relief as she watched your sadness melt away.
“Anyway,” She hummed, tone shifting back to something a bit more playful as she nudged your knee one more time. “The point is, you shouldn’t overthink things so much. It’s bad for you.”
You let out a tired chuckle, shaking your head against the cushion. “I can’t promise that, Ale. It’s what I’m best at.”
Alexia lifted her hand from her lap, curling her fingers inward until only her smallest finger was extended. She held it up between the two of you, right in your line of sight.
“Well,” She said, her expression perfectly serious though her eyes were dancing with mischief. “You’re going to have to promise.”
You stared at her hand, then up at her face, and a light burst of laughter escaped your lips. The absurdity of the two time Ballon d’Or winner and stern Barcelona captain demanding a pinky promise was too much for your tipsy brain to handle.
“Are you serious right now?” You teased with a bright smile, brighter than one you’ve had in hours. “A pink promise? What are you, twelve?”
“It’s a legally binding contract without pen and paper.” Alexia insisted, her grin turning borderline wicked as she shook her extended pinky closer to you. “Come on. Secure the deal.”
You rolled your eyes, but the helpless smile never left your face. You raised your own hand and looped your pinky finger tightly around hers.
The moment your skin met, the teasing banter ebbed away for the time being. Neither of you pulled away. You held absolute, unbroken eye contact in the dark light of the garden, the tiny physical connection keeping you both still.
Alexia’s smile turned into something tender. You swore you saw her gaze drop to your lips for a split second, before they rose back to your eyes.
The click of the glass doors cut through the silence, making you both break eye contact.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Pina called out, stepping into the garden with her jacket over her shoulder. Behind her, Cata and Vicky were peering over her shoulders, their faces split into identical delighted smirks as their eyes darted down to your linked hands.
“We’re just heading out now, we can see ourselves to the door.” Vicky chimed in with a wicked grin, nudging Pina with her elbow. “We just wanted to say goodbye. We didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Yeah, you stay there, Ale, don’t stress yourself,” Cata added, holding up a hand before she gave you both an exaggerated wink. “See you guys soon!”
Alexia slowly unlooped her pinky from yours, though her fingers lingered against your skin for a fraction of a second before she settled back against the cushions. “Text me when you get home!”
You quickly offered a sheepish, slightly flushed wave with your free hand as the trio backed through the door, closing it behind them,
The second it shut, the reality of the late hour and the amount of alcohol in your system hit you at once. You let out a long, pathetic groan, and slapped a hand over your eyes.
“Oh god,” You said, your voice muffled against your palm. “I just remembered… I drove here.”
Alexia let out a soft, amused chuckle from beside you. “Did you?”
“Yes!” You whined, peeking out from behind your fingers with a frown. “I didn’t know there would be so much beer and chaos and… whatever the hell Kika was up to. Now I'm stuck. I can’t get home.”
Alexia watched you, her expression melting into something a little shy. She cleared her throat, her fingers tracing the seams of her trousers as she looked at you.
“Actually,” She offered quietly, a tentative smile playing on her lips. “You can stay here tonight if you want. All of the spare rooms are made up.”
A spike of heat hit your cheeks, completely bypassing the beer buzz. Your mouth went a little dry, your brain immediately going into hyper-drive at the thought of sleeping under her roof.
“Oh—no, no, I couldn't” You stammered quickly, waving your hands in a polite, panicked refusal. “I can just call a taxi. It’s fine, really! I don't want to be a bother or invade your space after you’ve been hosting all day. I'll just get an Uber.”
“It's nearly one in the morning, you won't find a taxi easily out here,” Alexia pointed out smoothly, her tone turning a fraction more firm as she leaned in slightly, refusing to let you brush her off. “And you're not a bother. I'm literally offering.”
“But–”
“No buts,” She interrupted gently, her eyes full of a warm, teasing authority that you had no strength to fight. “You made a legally binding promise not to overthink things, remember? The spare room is yours. Unless you'd prefer to sleep out here on the terrace?”
You stared at her for a moment, totally defeated by her logic and the sheer kindness in her eyes. Letting out one final, dramatic sigh, you let your head drop back onto the sofa cushion.
“Fine. I’ll stay.” You murmured, that same helpless and bashful smile returning to your face. You gazed at her, your stomach doing that weird fluttery thing it often did whenever she went out of her way to do something for you. “Thank you, Ale. Really.”
“Don’t mention it.” She replied, her shoulders dropping as she relaxed back into the cushions. She gave you a gentle, assessing look, her eyes scanning your tired face. “Besides, you look exhausted. It’s been a long day, and you need some rest.”
You let out a quiet hum, closing your eyes for a brief second as the weight of the alcohol and the emotional rollercoaster of the night fully settled into your bones. “Yeah. You’re right. My brain feels like mush.”
“Well, luckily for you, I happen to have an excellent solution for that,” Alexia said, a sudden, playful spark returning to her voice. She leaned in a little closer, gesturing back toward the dark house with a perfectly serious expression. “The mattresses in my house? Unbelievable. They’re the best things I’ve ever bought.”
You opened your eyes and stared at her, a breathless laugh escaping you at the absolute ridiculousness of the pitch. “Are you trying to sell me a bed right now?”
“I’m just trying to make you overthink your decision a little less. You won’t regret it when you lay on one,” She grinned, finally standing up from the sofa and extending a hand down to you. “Come on. Let’s get you inside before you fall asleep out here.”
You took her hand, letting her easily haul you to your feet. Your legs were a bit heavy and unsteady, but Alexia kept a steadying grip on your arm until you found your balance, guiding you gently through the glass doors and into the quiet, pristine interior of her house.
The main rooms were completely dark now, the rest of the team having finally headed out. Alexia led you up the stairs, the soft ambient lighting illuminating the hallway as she guided you toward one of the guest rooms near the end of the hall.
She pushed the door open, revealing a beautifully neat, cozy space that already felt incredibly welcoming.
“Make yourself at home,” Alexia murmured, stepping inside to turn on a bedside lamp before turning to face you. She took a quick look at your clothes and snapped her fingers softly. “Wait, you need something to sleep in. Hold on.”
She disappeared down the hall toward her own bedroom, leaving you standing awkwardly by the edge of the bed, your heart doing a nervous little dance. A minute later, she returned with a neatly folded pile of clothes in her hands.
“Here,” she said, handing them over. It was an oversized, incredibly soft grey cotton t-shirt and a pair of drawstring shorts. “They might be a little big, but they’re comfortable. Oh, and here.” She reached into her pocket and produced a brand-new, packaged toothbrush. “There’s an en-suite bathroom right through that door. Fresh towels are under the sink in case you want to shower at any point.”
You took the items, your fingers brushing against hers again, sending a familiar warmth rushing up your arms like it had done earlier in the pantry. “Ale, seriously, thank you. You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I told you, it’s fine,” She replied, her voice dropping into that quiet, intimate register again. She stepped back toward the doorway, her hands finding the pockets of her trousers as she looked at you under the warm glow of the lamp. She looked suddenly a little shy herself, her eyes lingering on your face. “Sleep well, okay?”
“You too,” you smiled, a bashful warmth settling in your chest. “Goodnight, Ale.”
“Goodnight.”
The brunette gave you one last smile before slowly stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind her. You sat on the edge of the bed with a long sigh, a hopeless smile breaking across your face. Then you pressed your palm into the bed, almost groaning in delight at how it was a perfect mixture of density and softness.
On the other side of the door, Alexia hadn’t moved far.
She stood perfectly still in the dimly lit hallway, her hand still hovering near the doorframe. Her stomach fluttered as she took a deep, shaky breath.
The echo of your voice from earlier tonight, confessing how much you liked her and how deeply you cared and how terrified you were of messing up her peace, it all made her heart ache with an intoxicating happiness.
She leaned her head back to the ceiling, a near-silent stunned laugh escaping her lips in the darkness. You were right there, would be sleeping just a few feet away in her house, and it made her feel weightless.
Eventually, with a lingering glance at your door, she turned and walked down the hall to her own room, a smile fixed on her face the entire way.
—
The morning sun was already streaming through the gap in her blackout curtains when Alexia opened her eyes, feeling mostly rested despite the chaotic emotional rollercoaster of the previous night.
She lay in bed for a while. Her brain replayed almost the entire night through, from when people arrived to leading you upstairs to the spare room once everybody had left. The corner of her lips quirked upwards at a few things, and she looked down at her hand where it rested atop the sheets, the one that’d linked with yours in a gesture that was much more than just sealing a promise.
It was past 10AM, and she hadn’t heard any movement from the end of the hall, where you’d stayed.
So she sat up against the headboard with a yawn and a stretch, before she leaned over to the bedside table and grabbed her phone.
(Alexia) Morning :) are you awake yet?
She dropped her phone onto the bed beside her and rubbed her eyes, waiting as three dots appeared, disappeared, and reappeared a few minutes later.
(You) Hi. Yeah. Morning. My head hurts just ever so slightly.
Alexia chuckled to herself, already moving to get up out of bed.
She padded downstairs and went to the kitchen, moving to open the cabinet where she kept all things health related. Before she could grab what she was after, her phone vibrated in her pocket again.
(You) I’m also incredibly embarrassed by everything that happened yesterday, so please don’t look at me
The midfielder burst into a quiet laugh, her cheeks aching at how endearing you were being. She locked her phone, filled a tall glass with cold water, and grabbed a pack of painkillers.
Once she’d made it up the stairs, she stopped outside the guest room door and knocked quietly, the rap of her knuckles echoing in the hallway.
Silence.
No movement and no answer.
Amused, Alexia leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, a knowing smirk on her lips.
“I know you’re awake,” She called out, her voice loud enough to cut through the wood but keeping its gentle, teasing warmth. “We literally texted two minutes ago.”
There was another period of silence from inside the room before a muffled and incredibly meek voice finally drifted through the door. “Come in.”
Alexia turned the handle and pushed the door open, stepping into the sunlit room. Her eyes immediately found the bed, and a soft adoring smile took over her face at the sight.
You were curled up tightly on your side, practically swallowed by the sheets. You had apparently raided the clean pile of laundry sitting on the chair in the corner she’d been yet to sort, because you were now drowning in a thick grey hoodie that belonged to her, despite it being Summer.
You’d pulled the hood over your head, leaving only the tip of your nose and your tightly shut eyes visible to the world.
“Good morning,” Alexia said softly as she walked into the room. She kept her steps quiet, setting the tall glass of water down on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the mattress beside you.
You emerged from the sheets, letting out a tiny embarrassed whine as you slowly sat up. You reluctantly pulled the hood back off your head, allowing Alexia to look at you properly. She had to blink herself out of her trance as she grabbed the sheet of tablets from her pocket.
“Here,” she murmured, popping two of the tablets into your palm and handing you the water. “Take these.”
You swallowed the pills, chasing them with a long sip of the cold water, throat parched from the night before. As you set the glass back down, you finally risked a glance up at her.
Alexia was simply sitting there, watching you with an unhurried and awfully tender gaze. There was no judgement in her eyes, no teasing smirk, just an attentive focus that made your stomach do a stupid flip.
Under the weight of her undivided attention, you felt a burning blush creep rapidly up your neck, painting your cheeks a crimson that gave away how flustered you were.
Alexia definitely noticed, you could tell by the tiny increase in her smile, but she chose not to comment on it.
“How are you feeling? Aside from the headache?”
“I’ve been better and I’ve been worse.” You answered in a mutter, sleep still evident in your voice as you pulled your knees closer to your chest.
Alexia let out a soft, amused huff. “Well, that’s a start. It was a hectic night.”
“You can say that again.” You grumbled, resting your chin on your knees and staring down at the rumpled sheets. “I can’t believe it was that chaotic. I’m never going to hear the end of it all.”
The brunette watched you, her expression shifting, turning just a bit shy as she cleared her throat and her fingers traced light patterns on the duvet.
“So… how much of it do you remember?” She asked, eyes locking onto yours with a poorly disguised intense curiosity.
A fresh wave of heat hit your cheeks, but you managed a small self-deprecating smile. “God, Ale, I wasn’t that drunk. I remember it. All of it.”
Her smile widened, a spark of satisfaction lighting up her eyes as she slowly nodded, carefully filing that piece of information away for later.
If you remembered everything, you remembered all the things you’d said about her. As well as what she had subtly hinted at on the couch, too.
“Good to know,” She hummed, before pushing herself up from the edge of the bed. She stood at full height, tugging her vest back into its proper place and smoothing down her shorts. “I was going to make some breakfast, are you hungry?”
“Starving, actually," You admitted sheepishly. “Is it alright if I take a quick shower while you do that?”
“Of course.” She replied instantly, gesturing toward the bathroom with an easy smile. “Take as long as you want. I’ll get some more clothes for you and get started on the food.”
With a final, reassuring nod, Alexia slipped out of the room, leaving you to the blissful sanctuary of a hot shower.
True to her word, by the time you stepped out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam rolling out behind you, a fresh stack of clean clothes was sitting neatly at the foot of the bed. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the endless supply, drowning in both her clothes and the laundry detergent you’d loved the scent of for a little while now.
You quickly changed, taking a deep, steadying breath to steel yourself before finally bracing the hallway and padding down the stairs.
You walked into the kitchen slowly, your shoulders slightly hunched and your hands tucked into your pockets, still carrying that quiet morning-after bashfulness.
Alexia was standing over the hob, the rich, savoury aroma of frying eggs and toasted bread filling the bright room. She didn’t even have to look up to hear your hesitant footsteps, letting out another amused huff as she flicked the spatula expertly.
“You don’t have to be so awkward, you know,” She said, turning her head to flash you a warm, easy smile. She rested one hand on her hip, looking at how carefully you were hovering near the edge of the kitchen island. “You’re more than just a guest, you’re welcome here anytime. You’re… you’re like Bambi right now. Just totally unsure of your feet. Stop being so scared.”
A quiet, involuntary giggle slipped past your lips, the tension in your shoulders dropping a fraction. “I hope the nickname Bambi doesn’t stick.”
Alexia’s smirk returned in full force, her dark eyes dancing with a wicked, playful light as she turned back to the pan. “Well, that entirely depends on how you behave.”
You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your mouth as you moved to pull out a barstool. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No,” Alexia hummed, her chuckle low and thoroughly satisfied as she plated up the food. “You definitely shouldn’t have.”
The slight hints of tension evaporated into the steam of fresh coffee as you both sat down at the island. The initial awkwardness settled down into a comfortable silence as you both ate. It wasn’t an unpleasant or empty quiet; it was full of the domestic scraping of forks against plates, the hum of the kitchen appliances, the morning chirps of birds in the garden outside, clearly glad the chaos of the previous night was over.
It was a shared lazy morning lull, underscored by the lingering warmth of the sun hitting the kitchen floor.
But as the last few bites were finished and your cutlery finally scraped against the ceramic to a halt, Alexia’s mind began to wonder again. Right back to the shadows of the side garden on the sofa, again.
She stared down at her empty plate, her fingers idly tapping against the handle of her mug. She couldn’t let it go.
Hearing you admit all those things to Clara had been causing an uncomfortable twisting pain within her all morning.
Alexia was used to having to be the structured one, the fortress, the captain who held it together. She revelled in it.
Most of the time.
Hearing that her guard, the very wall she built to survive the pressure, had made you feel small and unwelcome in her life? It made her stomach churn.
Those walls were just a facade. And though, she supposed, it was good enough that it could fool almost anyone, she didn’t want it to affect her life in such a way like it had with you.
She wanted to lay it out, but she needed to be careful. You were still fragile, what with the hangover and the embarrassment.
She took a final slow sip of her coffee, before setting the mug down with a soft clink to break the silence.
“You know last night,” she started, not looking up, keeping her eyes on her mug to give you space. “Before everyone left, when you were on the sofa.”
You instantly felt a spike of adrenaline shoot straight to your chest, your mind racing through the fuzzy timeline– the weird confessional Kika and Patri had baited you into, and then the pathetic tearful rambles you’d unloaded onto an unprepared Clara.
“Yeah?” You squeaked out, clearing your throat to try and sound normal. You gripped your glass of water a little tighter. “What about it?”
“Just…” Alexia trailed off, shifting her weight on the barstool. She glanced up then, trying to gauge how much you could handle. “You seemed really… overwhelmed when you left the group. And when I came out later, you still looked… weighed down. So I just… I guess I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Because you don’t have to lie or pretend with me, you know.”
“Oh. Right.” You mumbled, looking everywhere but at her. You traced the edge of your plate with your thumb, trying to skirt around the massive elephant in the room. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just, you know, too many beers. And I get emotional when I’m tired. I probably just said a bunch of nonsense to Clara. You know how it is.”
Alexia stayed quiet for a minute, mulling it over.
“Was it? Nonsense?” She asked quietly a little later. Almost afraid of the answer.
“Total nonsense.” You liked quickly, nodding your head with a strained, bashful laugh. “Completely ridiculous stuff. Don’t even worry about it.”
Alexia watched you scramble, and though she perhaps should’ve been disheartened at your answer, a helpless surge of affection overtook her instead.
She couldn’t keep the secret anymore; it wasn’t fair to let you hide behind a lie when you were both desperate for the truth.
A small, knowing smile broke across her face. She leaned her forearms onto the island, tilting her head slightly.
“I heard some of it, you know.”
Your hand stopped dead on the table, your eyes widening to the size of saucers as the breath caught squarely in your throat. Your mind blanked out in pure panic as you froze under her gaze.
The brunette let out a low, amused chuckle at the reaction, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Again with the Bambi.” She teased, lightly bumping her knee into yours.
“I– I wasn’t… it really wasn't what it sounded like,” you scrambled to defend yourself, the words tumbling out in a panicked rush as you desperately tried to piece together a coherent excuse. “I was tipsy, and Clara was just there, and I talk so much rubbish when I’ve had a few beers, Alexia, seriously, you can’t take anything I say after midnight–”
“Hey, hey, breathe,” Alexia cut in gently, her soft voice instantly halting your spiral. She didn't let the distance grow between you, instead leaning in a fraction closer. The teasing smirk was entirely gone, replaced by an expression so genuinely reassuring it made your mind spin. “Calm down. I’m not mad. I promise you, I’m not mad at all.”
You blinked, your mouth shutting instantly as you stared at her, your heart still thumping a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Your eyes darted around the kitchen, desperately scanning the marble countertops, the coffee machine, the windows– literally anything to avoid the intense, steady focus of her gaze while your brain frantically searched for a way out.
“Why are you looking at the toaster like it’s going to save you?” Alexia asked, a breathless laugh escaping her lips, though her eyes remained completely soft.
“I’m not,” You mumbled miserably, finally dropping your gaze back to your lap. “I just… I really didn't mean to drag you into my messy thoughts.”
Alexia stayed quiet for a moment, letting the room settle. Then, slowly, she shifted her arm across the cool marble of the island and placed her hand directly over yours. Her palm was incredibly warm, her fingers resting securely over your trembling knuckles, grounding you completely.
“Look at me,” She requested softly.
Reluctantly, you lifted your eyes to meet hers.
“If I heard what I think I heard out there,” Alexia murmured, her thumb making a slow, incredibly tender stroke across the back of your hand, “then… you don’t need to be nervous at all about how I will react. Not even a little bit.” She paused, her dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made all your hesitations dissolve. “Just… be honest with me. Please.”
The raw sincerity in her voice almost overwhelmed you. A fresh, deep blush crept right back up to your cheeks, but beneath the embarrassment, an all-consuming sense of relief took over. You swallowed the lump in your throat, staring at her hand over yours, and gave a small nod.
Once the floodgates opened, there was no stopping it.
The slight hangover and the months of suppressed longing collided all at once, causing the words to come rushing out your mouth in a desperate, unfiltered torrent.
“It’s just… I’ve felt like this literally for months, Ale.” You started, your hands gesturing wildly as you tried to explain the chaos in your head. “And every time I wanted to say something, I’d look at how completely composed you are, how you handle everything with this intense focus, and I’d just chicken out.”
Alexia gave a wistful smile, the sight almost derailing you. But you wanted to power through this now, no matter what. No looking back.
“I was so convinced that if I let it slip, I’d just… be an annoying distraction to you. I didn’t want to throw a wrench into your peace or make things awkward at training, and then Patri and Kika kept setting up stupid traps, and I was just so mortified because the last thing I ever wanted to do was burden you with my messy feelings, and I–”
You paused to catch your breath, your eyes finally flicking back to the woman sitting next to you.
Alexia hadn't moved an inch.
She was sitting with her elbow propped casually on the marble island, her chin resting comfortably in her hand as she gazed at you. Her eyes were fixed entirely on your face, completely captivated, and a soft, deeply affectionate smile played on her lips as she drank in every single word of your chaotic confession. She looked entirely untroubled, thoroughly content, and devastatingly beautiful in the morning light.
The undivided intensity of her gaze caused the rest of your sentence to completely die in your throat. Your cheeks flared an even deeper shade of crimson, and you shifted uncomfortably on your stool, suddenly feeling very small under her look.
How the tables had turned; now it was you who couldn’t stop blushing.
“...and I don’t know what to do with myself when you look at me like that, especially,” You finished in a tiny, breathless murmur, your voice trailing off as you nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
Alexia’s grin only widened at that, a quiet rumbling chuckle vibrating in her chest as she watched you squirm.
“I can’t help it,” She murmured smoothly, her eyes dancing with an unapologetic fondness.
You let out a breathy, nervous huff and rolled your eyes, though the defensive gesture did absolutely nothing to cool the burning heat in your cheeks.
Alexia let the comfortable quiet of the kitchen settle around you for a moment. She dropped her hand from her chin and shifted her posture, leaning closer until the space between you was practically non-existent. She gently took your hand back in hers, her thumb resuming that slow stroke against your skin.
She knew it was her turn now, and she needed to make sure you fully absorbed every single word.
“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Alexia began, her voice dropping to a low, incredibly gentle whisper. She waited until your eyes flicked up to meet hers, holding your gaze so you couldn't look away.
“You are not too chaotic for me,” She stated firmly, erasing any room for doubt. “You are not an annoying distraction, and you could never, ever disrupt my peace. Nothing of what you’ve built up in your head to be terrified of is true.”
You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs as you listened to the sheer conviction in her tone.
“I like you exactly because you are the opposite of me,” Alexia continued, her expression softening into something heartwarmingly vulnerable. “My entire life is structured, heavily monitored, and constantly under pressure. But you... you bring out entirely different sides of me. Sides I sometimes forget I even have. You make me laugh when I’m stressed, you make me forget about the weight of the captain's armband, and those walls you think I have up?”
She paused, her thumb pressing a little firmer into the back of your hand.
“Whenever you’re around, they come falling down without you even trying,” She confessed quietly, laying her heart completely bare. “You don't need to worry about breaking through them, Bambi. You’ve been on the other side of them for months.”
The breath rushed out of your lungs in a shaky exhale, your vision blurring slightly at the edges as her words washed over you. All those months of agonising over every little interaction, over every lingering touch, suddenly clicked into place.
Alexia’s brow furrowed slightly, a flash of genuine guilt passing through her dark eyes. “It breaks my heart that I made you feel like you were a burden. I was trying so hard to respect your boundaries and not make things complicated for you at the club, but I am so sorry that my distance made you feel–”
“Don’t,” You cut her off quickly, your fingers instinctively curling around hers to squeeze her hand tight. “You don’t need to apologise, Ale. Seriously. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Alexia paused, her eyes searching yours, wordlessly questioning if you really meant it.
“It’s just my useless habit of overthinking.” You admitted with another self-deprecating chuckle. “You were just being you. I build these massive worst-case scenarios in my head and then convince myself they’re real. It’s stupid.”
A grin spread slowly across Alexia’s face, her eyes lighting up with that familiar playful mischief. She leaned in just a fraction closer, her knees bracketing yours as you both sat sideways on the barstools.
“That’s alright, because we found a solution to that last night, didn’t we?”
You blinked, a little confused. “What do you mean?”
Without breaking eye contact, Alexia slowly shifted her hand. She uncurled her fingers from yours, slid her hand just an inch down the marble counter, and hooked her smallest finger tightly around your pinky. She gave it a firm, teasing wiggle right there on the kitchen island.
A bright, genuine laugh burst from you at the sight, your whole body relaxing as the lingering remnants of your morning panic finally vanished.
“You and these fucking promises.” You shook your head, unable to tear your eyes away from how she looked at you.
You quietened after that, though. Your laughter melted into something smaller, just the corner of your mouth turned upward as your fingers remained hooked together and her gaze never left yours. Each of you slowly began to process the others’ words, internally beaming at the unexpected turn of events.
“I can’t quite believe we’ve finally… talked about it.” You whispered, staring down at your intertwined fingers before looking back up at her. It felt completely surreal, sitting in her kitchen and holding her hand while she confessed her feelings.
Alexia just smiled, as a soft and context expression took over her features at the same time she gave a casual shrug of her shoulders. “It’s been a long time coming. We were both just being too stubborn.”
“Definitely too stubborn.” You nodded in bashful agreement, shaking your head. Then you let out a quiet snort as you thought about the madness of the previous night. “Stubborn to the point where our idiotic team had to basically bang our heads together.”
Alexia threw her head back, a loud laugh echoing through the kitchen. “Don’t give them too much credit.”
“They’re never going to let us live this down.” You added with a sigh, your thumb tracing the smooth skin of her hand.
Alexia hummed in agreement, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she kept her pinky firmly hooked with yours. The kitchen fell back into a quiet, content silence, but the air felt entirely different now. The suffocating weight that had been hanging over your chest all morning was completely gone, replaced by a warm and bubbling lightness.
You sat there for a few unhurried moments, just taking her in.
The way the bright morning sun caught the golden undertones in her brown hair, the relaxed slope of her shoulders, and the soft, incredibly peaceful expression on her face. For months, you had viewed her as this untouchable fortress, but right now, sitting sideways on a barstool in a kitchen that smelled of coffee, you were left wondering how on earth you’d let those thoughts slide.
Her gaze dropped to your hands, her thumb mindlessly rubbing the side of your finger. Following her line of sight, your chest swelled with a sudden, overwhelming wave of affection. It was a bizarre, beautiful contrast– the stern captain holding your pinky like a schoolgirl on her kitchen island.
Slowly, your gaze drifted back up, tracing the sharp line of her jaw before finally landing on her mouth. The morning light caught the soft, natural curve of her lips, and the sudden realisation of what you actually wanted hit you all at once. The craving was so sharp it made your breath catch.
You leaned in just a tiny bit, your knees shifting against hers, shrinking the space between you until you could feel the faint warmth radiating from her skin.
“I really want to kiss you,” You whispered, piquing her interest. Only for you to sigh dramatically and lean back again. “But I can’t right now.”
Alexia’s eyebrows shot up, a startled but highly amused laugh escaping her lips at your sudden turnaround. She didn’t let go of your pinky, instead leaning forward with a bright, curious gleam in her eyes.
“No?” She asked, her voice rich with a teasing undertone. “You can’t? You literally just said you wanted to.”
“I do!” You defended dramatically, throwing your free hand up in the air before dropping it back onto your lap. “But I haven't even brushed my teeth yet, I just feel completely gross. I don't want our first proper kiss to be overshadowed by a hangover and general morning grogginess. I want it to be a good memory, Ale.”
Alexia stared at you for a short beat, her expression softening so fast it was almost dizzying. A noise of pure, melting affection escaped her throat, her eyes crinkling deeply at the corners.
“You’re really something, hm,” She murmured, shaking her head. She slowly unhooked her pinky from yours, but before you could miss the contact, she slid her stool even closer, her knees firmly slotting around yours. “Alright. Fine. If you’re being stubborn about that… let me do this instead.”
She reached up, her warm hands gently coming to cradle your jawline. Her fingers were soft against your skin, her thumbs lightly tracing your cheekbones as she tilted your face up slightly. You held your breath, your pulse instantly starting to quicken.
Slowly, deliberately, Alexia leaned in. She pressed a soft, warm kiss to your left cheek, her lips lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle. Then, she shifted slightly, her breath brushing against your skin as she dropped an identical, tender kiss onto your right cheek.
You thought that was it, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she moved to the center, her eyelids fluttering shut as she pressed a firm, affectionate, lingering kiss right against the middle of your forehead.
The contact sent your heart into absolute overdrive. It felt like a physical shockwave of warmth rolling straight down your spine, leaving your stomach doing a series of wild, uncontrolled flips. It wasn't just a casual gesture; the sheer care and gravity behind the way she held your face made you feel like you were floating.
(And not because of alcohol this time.)
When she finally pulled back, her hands slid down to rest casually on your shoulders, a soft, triumphant smile playing on her lips as she looked down at your inevitably crimson face.
“Who’s the blusher now?”
You let out a groan of pure embarrassment, completely defeated, and dropped your forehead forward until it rested heavily against her shoulder. Your face was buried in the soft fabric of her top, your hands instinctively rising to lightly grip the sides of her waist.
Alexia let out a low chuckle that vibrated right through your chest, burying her face into your hair for a brief second.
“That was too soft, Ale,” You grumbled against her shoulder, though a smile was tugging at the corners of your own mouth. “You’re cheating.”
“Too soft?” Alexia retorted, her voice dropping into a thoroughly amused, teasing purr. “Not true for you. I can literally feel your heart hammering from here.”
To make matters worse, she brought her hands down from your shoulders and began to rub them in slow, soothing strokes up and down your back. The gentle friction through the thick grey hoodie only made your stomach do another round of ridiculous flips, and you squeezed your eyes shut, completely content to stay hidden against her forever.
The domestic bubble was abruptly shattered by a sharp ping from the marble counter.
You reluctantly pulled your head back, shooting a glare at your phone as it buzzed again. You slid off the barstool, your legs still a little heavy, and reached for the device. Glancing at the screen, your eyes went wide as the digital clock and a message stared back at you.
“Oh, damn it,” You groaned again, running a hand over your face. “I completely forgot. I have plans with my family this afternoon. I… I have to leave right now or I’m going to be late.”
Alexia’s expression softened with instant understanding, her hands dropping away as she stood up with you. “Don’t stress. Go grab your stuff from upstairs, I’ll wait by the door.”
Ten minutes later, you were walking down her front path toward your car. The midday air was warm and crisp, a stark contrast to the heavy, tearful shadows of the garden the night before. You felt a million times lighter.
“Send me a text when you get home,” Alexia called out from the open doorway. She was leaning her shoulder comfortably against the frame, her hands tucked into the pockets of her shorts as she watched you.
You paused by your driver’s side door, turning back to face her with an easy smile. “I will.”
Alexia lingered for a second, her eyes tracking your face before a small, uncharacteristically bashful look crossed her features. “And… text me after that, too?”
Your heart did a violent, happy flip in your chest. You looked at her, entirely charmed. “As long as you promise to text me back.”
Without a word, Alexia lifted her hand from her pocket and held up her pinky finger, her eyes swirling with that playful affection. You couldn't help the wide, helpless grin that split your face as you lifted your own hand, mimicking the gesture from across the lawn to seal the silent contract.
With a final wave, you unlocked your car and climbed into the driver’s seat. As you pulled the seatbelt across your chest, your hand brushed against the thick, heavy fabric of the grey pullover. You froze, looking down at yourself, and realised with a sudden jolt of amusement that you were still wearing her clothes.
You let out a quiet huff and reached up to adjust the rearview mirror before backing out of the driveway.
But as your eyes tracked the reflection, your gaze travelled past your own face and straight through the large glass window of her kitchen.
There she was, completely oblivious to the fact you were watching. Alexia was standing by the sink, idly wiping down the marble island after breakfast, and she was smiling uncontrollably to herself– a completely private grin that reached all the way to her eyes.
You shifted the car into gear and drove away, the lingering smell of her fabric softeners surrounding you, your own smile matching hers the entire ride home.
—
once again, no idea how this is so long, but hopefully it was worth it 🫠 do let me know if you enjoyed it :)
