“Lee, stop. I have to go” you protested as she placed another kiss to your neck. You were facing her hotel room door as she was trying to drag you backwards towards the centre of the room.
“Five more minutes, please” she mumbled, increasing the volume of kisses being pressed against you.
“Curfew was already an hour ago” you huffed.
“So, what’s five more minutes then?” She smirked.
“And how will you explain if Kei or G just walk in?” You teased, eventually turning around so you could be face to face with her.
“Well firstly, I would remind them we have a curfew” Leah laughed as you pushed her away from you.
“Or maybe I would finally tell them that you are my girlfriend and have been for-” she held the last syllable while she dramatically looked at her watch. “2 years, 11 months, 30 days, 23 hours and 27 minutes”
“I know” you sighed, understanding that she was hinting that you should stay.
It was your three year anniversary and she wanted nothing more than for you to just spend the night in her room, regardless of the rules of camp and her being the captain of the team. The captain, person who was meant to strive for excellence and be a good role model for the other players. But none of that mattered when it came to you.
“Fine, but just tonight, and if we get caught I am telling them you kidnapped me” you rolled your eyes as she cheered quietly.
“Come on then” she smiled, taking your hand and leading you back to the double bed that was placed in the centre of the room.
Kei
Come to my room
Now
G
I’m in bed
Kei
NOW
-
It was the next morning when you woke to Leah’s never ending alarm.
“Turn it off, Lee” you groaned loudly.
You hated that stupid alarm, it was the worst noise in the world. She reached over and smacked her phone, unsure if she’d turned the alarm off or broken her phone, but either way the alarm had stopped.
“Morning” she smiled tiredly and placed a kiss on your lips.
“Happy anniversary” you kissed her back.
“Happy anniversary, love” she mumbled between kisses.
“Have you anything romantic planned?” You teased.
“I was thinking of jetting us off to Paris?” She smirked.
“How convenient” you giggled. It was travel day, you were going over to play France in Paris in a few days time.
“I should probably go and start packing then, should I?” You kissed her cheek.
“I’ll be over in a few minutes to help” she smiled, full well knowing that was a lie.
“Oh my dear sweet Leah, you know I’ll be back in a few minutes to pack up this mess” you moved your hands around the room, reiterating the state it was in as you burst out laughing.
“Yeah, yeah. Well hurry back, bus is in an hour” she smirked as she stretched back into the bed.
You went back to your room, quickly sprinting the few doors down and started packing. It was on your way back to Leah’s room that you bumped into your sister and Tooney.
“Morning” you smiled.
“Good morning” Alessia beamed, wrapping you straight into a hug.
“Where you off to?” Ella asked, looking you up and down. You were just in a pair of shorts and a hoodie.
“Off to help the messiest person alive pack her bags” you rolled your eyes. The pair knew you and Leah were close friends, but not that you’d been dating for three years. Nobody knew that.
“Her shorts would probably be better off in the bag than on you” Ella laughed as you looked down at Leah’s number displayed on your thigh.
“Oh no, maybe she’s rubbing off on me” you groaned, making the two girls laugh. “Are you both packed?” You asked and they both nodded.
“Y/n, can you hurry up?” Leah grunted from her door.
“Duty calls” you saluted them both.
“Morning Lessi” Leah smirked.
“Morning” she smiled back, innocently.
“I wonder what she would think if she knew how I made her sister-” she whispered to you as you got closer and you pushed her into her room before she could finish her sentence.
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You know she’s terrified of you as it is” you laughed, shaking your head.
You began packing her big bag neatly, before you told her to go and get your bag from your room. She wheeled both of them down to the lobby while you were scrolling on your phone. You were now both dawned in matching tracksuits with each other’s numbers on the opposite person, accidentally.
“Maybe just permanently switch numbers” Ella teased as she tapped the printing on your chest.
“I’m the captain now” you done your best Leah imitation as she gave you the finger and went off to leave your bags in the pile before heading to speak to Georgia and Keira.
“Nice number, Russo #3” Georgia laughed at the blonde who punched her softly when she stood next to her.
“Sleep alright?” Keira asked with the slightest upticks of her lips.
“Yeah” Leah smiled. Probably the best sleep she’d had all camp. “You?” She asked as Keira fully smirked.
“Not really” she shook her head. “I was just saying to Georgia actually, maybe if the walls were thicker I would have slept better” her and Georgia’s smirks were growing wider as Leah gulped. She knew Keira was next door to her room.
“But at least none of us were out of our rooms and in someone else’s all night, right?” She asked.
“And none of us have secret girlfriends to have in our rooms” Georgia pointed out with a laugh.
“Can you two shut up?” Leah pleaded as their giddiness was starting to make their voices grow louder.
“Why? Did you have your secret girlfriend in your room all night?” Keira asked, bursting out laughing, making Georgia also fall into a fit of laughter.
“Leah looks annoyed” Alessia pointed out as you looked over. You knew that whatever conversation was going on over there, that she was fit to put one or both of their heads through the closest wall.
“Doesn’t she always?” You joked, trying to lighten the mood and forget what was happening.
“If you two stop laughing, I will tell you everything” Leah huffed as the pair tried to stop laughing.
“We just have one question” Keira said and Leah nodded at them, indicating they could ask.
“Who is it?” Georgia asked quickly, getting in ahead of Keira.
“What?” Leah laughed.
“We couldn’t make out who it was” Keira sighed.
“You can’t both surely be that thick?” Leah frowned before she pointed at the number on her chest.
“Oh fuck” Georgia shouted as she slapped Leah’s chest.
“Ow, G, fucking hell” Leah winced, rubbing her chest.
“You’ve been with her three years and you didn’t tell me” Keira was slapping Leah playfully to the beat of each syllable that left her mouth, making the captain laugh.
“Nobody knows, so can you please keep it down?” Leah asked.
“Not even Less?” Georgia frowned and Leah shook her head.
“Especially not Alessia”
Only one person knew about you and Leah, and that was Alex Scott. Leah and Alex were out one evening in a nightclub, when they’d randomly bumped into you and your friends from outside of football, who had no idea who the pair even were. That was the night you and Leah first kissed, and a few weeks later she asked you out.
“You know Alessia won’t object right? She’s already afraid of you” Keira laughed as Leah rolled her eyes.
“We just don’t know how to tell her” Leah shrugged.
“Ladies can we get a move on? Onto the coach please” a member of staff shouted.
You made your way out to the bus with Ella and Alessia while Leah made her way with Georgia and Keira. It was just a quick trip to the airport but that didn’t stop Leah frowning when she realised Alessia had taken the seat beside you.
“Lessi, don’t leave Tooney all alone” Leah smirked. “Go on, up you get” she said as the younger blonde scrambled to her feet and rushed into the seat beside Ella.
“Lee, be nice” you warned. “You know she gets nervous flying” you pouted, looking back at her anxious little face.
“Less, I was just joking, sit here if you want” Leah called but the blonde shook her head.
“I don’t get why she’s so mean to me all the time” Alessia frowned.
“Probably cause she’s friends with Y/n. It’s harmless Lessi” Ella shrugged.
“Stop being mean to her or I will out you as the little spoon that you are” you whispered with a smirk.
“Baby, you promised to stop using that as a threat” Leah pouted as she sunk into the chair next to you.
“Actually, Keira and Georgia know” she said nonchalantly as she stretched in the seat.
“I’m sorry?” You asked.
“Apparently the walls are stick thin in George’s Park” Leah laughed as you blushed in embarrassment.
“Leah, that’s so humiliating” you groaned. “Why didn’t you deny it?”
“What was the point?” She whispered with a frown.
“We agreed only Alex was allowed to know. What if Alessia finds out?” You anxiously rubbed your hands together.
“So what if she finds out?” Leah shrugged.
“Lee, I’m not arguing with you about this right now” you groaned.
“No, you’re happy to just keep me a secret forever” she huffed as she stood up and moved to sit beside Lucy, who was a few rows behind you with Keira and Georgia down there too.
She walked by your sister who she gave a stern look to before turning away. You swung your head back in frustration before you put your headphones on and pressed your head against the window.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” Niamh asked.
“Sorry?” You took your headphones off as she smiled at you.
“Can I sit here?” She repeated.
“Yeah, of course Niamhy” you smiled.
“You’re normally stuck with Lessi or Leah on these trips” she pointed out.
“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me today” you laughed.
“I wouldn’t call it stuck” she shrugged. “Only if I have to sit beside you on the plane too” she smirked as you punched her arm.
“Is Niamh and your sister flirting?” Ella laughed, as the pair looked over at both of you.
“That’s hilarious” Alessia burst out laughing, which caught Leah’s attention.
She followed Alessia’s eyes, which were drawn on you and Niamh. She got up to go and walk towards you, but just as she did, the bus started moving and Lucy pulled her back into the seat. It was a quick drive, you and Niamh had just chatted the whole way to the airport. You stood up and got your things together as Niamh moved off the seat.
“See you on the plane” Niamh smiled, as she jogged to catch up to Esme and Lauren.
“You’re sitting with her on the plane too?” Leah frowned as she watched you take your bag and shuffle off the bus.
“Y/n” Leah groaned, walking after you.
“Trouble in paradise already” Georgia laughed quietly to Keira.
“Lee, can you just stop? You could have sat with me on the bus but you were acting like a child” you rolled your eyes at the girl who’d just stopped protesting about you sitting with Niamh on the plane.
“Why were you flirting with her?” Leah frowned.
“Get a grip, Leah” you huffed, walking towards the nearest place to get a coffee and a treat for the plane.
It was clear to anyone watching that you were arguing. The only ones that were watching though, was Keira, Georgia and Alessia, although she was stood separately to the other two. You’d eventually gotten away from Leah, leaving her to pay for your coffee, and you started walking towards the gate.
“Here, I can take that” Niamh offered, trying to take your bag.
“It’s fine” you smiled and waved her away.
“No, give me it” she laughed, taking the bag as you both continued to walk. “Do you want a coffee or a smoothie or something?” She asked.
“Here” Leah pushed a coffee in front of you, exactly what you wanted right now. “Do you mind if I steal her for a minute?” Leah asked Niamh who frowned, shook her head and walked off.
“Thank you for my coffee” you smiled.
“I’m sorry for acting like a dickhead” she began. “I’ll speak to Keira and G, but please stop winding me up with Niamh” she huffed.
“Was it because she took my bag?” You smirked.
“Obviously, that’s my job” Leah protested. “Can you sit with me on the plane?” She pleaded as you nodded.
A staff member called for you all to board the plane, when Leah headed over to Niamh. You watched her say something to the brunette who smiled and nodded.
“Sit in your assigned seats. You can move once we’re in flight” the staff member shouted. You shuffled in beside Georgia and Keira who both smirked at you as you sat down.
“Don’t start” you rolled your eyes at them as they both laughed. Leah checked the rows and pushed into the seat beside what she thought was Alex.
“Alright?” Leah asked as Alessia whipped her head around.
“Hi” Alessia anxiously replied. Leah was taken aback that it was your sister she was sitting beside, but quickly got a bit protective as your sister looked a mess.
“You okay Less? You look real pale” Leah whispered, turning to face her.
“I hate flying” she shook her head.
“Yeah, I know” Leah nodded, remembering all the times you’d had to keep her calm on a plane.
“Can I do anything?” She asked as your sister looked at her funny. Leah was never nice to her, always teasing her in some way or another.
“Can you just make sure when we take off to get Y/n or Tooney?” Alessia asked as the captain nodded. As the plane went up, Alessia’s heart dropped and grabbed Leah’s hand to squeeze it tightly.
“It’s okay Less” Leah rubbed her hand with her thumb. Meanwhile, you were completely missing this interaction due to being quizzed by Georgia and Keira.
“How did it happen?”
“Who asked who out?”
“Do you live together?”
“Do you love her?”
“What are your intentions with our Leah?”
“Can you both please-” you groaned and sighed in relief as the seatbelt sign went off. You saw Leah practically jump out of her seat, scanning the plane until eventually her eyes settled on you and she gestured you over quickly.
“Don’t keep her waiting” Georgia smirked as both of the girls fell into a state of laughter again.
“Everything okay?” You asked the girl, touching her fingertips briefly with yours, before looking at the seat she’d just jumped from.
“Oh my god, Lessi” you pushed Leah out of the way and jumped in beside your sister. She had always been awful on flights, even when you were kids you sometimes begged for Alessia not to come on holidays because she would scream and cry for the whole flight.
“Can you stay for the rest of this?” She asked, still pale as a ghost.
“Of course, just try and relax. It will go by so quickly” you smiled, grabbing hold of her hands. “Lee, can you get her some water?” You asked as she went down the aisle to ask the hostess for a bottle.
“Here, kid” Leah handed her a bottle of water as your eyes gestured to the seat next to you.
Leah slipped into the seat, understanding that’s what the look you’d given her meant. It was a bumpy flight, and you thanked the heavens that you’d gotten Alessia settled and she was sleeping comfortably against the window, or so you’d presumed.
“Some anniversary” Leah whispered and playfully rolled her eyes.
“Well, I heard we’re sharing rooms in Paris” you smirked. “And I think you’d like my roommate, she’s just as mean as you” you teased.
“I’m not mean” Leah huffed.
“You know you are” you replied, your tone slightly serious.
Due to Alessia’s eyes being shut, she couldn’t see the smiles or the touches you two shared, she could just hear the conversation. She couldn’t see the smirk on your face and the playful scowl Leah was giving you. She could just hear you and Leah arguing about Leah being mean.
The plane eventually landed and all three of you woke up simultaneously as the plane hit the ground. Alessia was asleep on your back, due to you being turned and cuddled into Leah. Your hand quickly broke free from where it was holding Leah’s as you looked around and sighed in relief that nobody was in the row opposite you. You quickly checked on Alessia and let her cuddle into you while you waited for the plane to stop. You got off the flight and boarded yet another bus, where you went back to sleep against Leah.
“Baby, we’re here” Leah whispered ever so quietly so nobody could hear the pet name. Although, it was just Georgia and Keira behind you. The plan for today was for a light training session and then back to the hotel to chill for the rest of the night.
You and Leah, like usual, paired up together and in typical Leah fashion, she teased the life out of you. She teased you during training, she teased you on the bus back to the hotel and she teased you while you were sitting on the couch in the room that you were all relaxing in. You don’t know in particular what caused it. Maybe it was you rolling your eyes for the 500th time today, or just overall frustration, but Alessia snapped as she watched Leah drive you demented. Leah was so harmless though, you did not mind her teasing at all. It was just the way your girlfriend was.
“Do you ever fucking stop?” Alessia proclaimed loudly, making you almost jump out of your skin.
“Sorry?” Leah turned with a smirk, slightly amused that your sister was riled up.
“Can you not just sit quietly? Or maybe not make my sister the butt of your jokes for a change?” She hissed.
“Less, that’s enough” you said sternly as Leah laughed.
“No, she’s always mean to me too. Why are you even friends with her?” Alessia was furious, but now so were you.
“I was nice to you on the plane” Leah said in a low voice, like she was trying not to ruin her reputation of being stern. You forgot the entire team was in the room as you stared at your sister, who either forgot or didn’t care who could hear.
“I said that’s enough, Alessia” you repeated and Leah knew what that tone meant. You were one more thing out from being pushed to start speaking in Italian.
“Right, maybe let’s just calm it down” Keira stepped in.
Leah’s smirk was still there, but mostly due to how anxious she was about the ongoing heated conversation. She always laughed or smirked uncomfortably when she was anxious.
“Yeah, Less let’s just go for a walk or something” Ella tried to take hold of Alessia’s arm but she freed herself from her best friend’s grip.
“Would you not rather be friends with someone who actually cares about you?” Alessia questioned.
“I do care about her” Leah frowned, now she was furious. It was on the tip of Leah’s tongue to tell your sister the truth and you were so appreciative that she hadn’t just spat it out.
“Well maybe stop acting like a cocky little dickhead all the time then” Alessia shouted.
“Alessia, do not speak to her like that” you snapped.
“Why do you care so much about-”
“Leah’s my fucking girlfriend, that’s why” you cut her off as everyone in the room froze. You heard whispers around the room and that’s when you were brought back to the realisation that the entire team was in here.
“She’s your what?” Alessia stuttered.
“Okay, okay let’s all just take a deep breath” Georgia now spoke, trying to defuse the situation. Leah jumped to her feet, guiding you quickly out of the room and all the way up to your shared room, where you collapsed on the other side of the door.
“Hey, breathe, it’s okay” she cooed as she sat infront of you and held your hands tightly.
“This is all my fault” you sobbed.
“Baby, come on. It’s going to be okay” Leah reassured you as she pulled you against her and let you cry. Keeping Leah a secret had been so hard, but after just one argument with Alessia, you’d ripped off the band aid like it was nothing.
“She’s going to hate me” you cried.
“She’s your sister, she’s not going to hate you. Me, maybe, but not you” Leah laughed. She always knew how to make you smile, even if you were in a bad situation.
“Let’s go talk to her” Leah said, standing up and taking your hand. You took her hand as she helped you up. She tucked your loose hair behind your ears before kissing you gently on the forehead. “Love you” she whispered.
“Love you too” you smiled. She went to grab a bottle of water beside the bed as you wiped your eyes quickly. You opened the door to reveal Alessia, stood on the other side.
“Love?” She asked as you practically yanked the girl in and closed the door. “You’re in love with her? How long has this being going on for?”
“Less, I just didn’t know how to tell you” you softly said.
“How long?” She asked again, a bit more sternly.
“Three years” Leah frowned. “Today is our anniversary”
“You kept this from me for three years?” Alessia pouted. She thought you two were as close as sisters could be.
“You told Keira and Georgia and not me?” Alessia was angry now. You’d started crying again when you felt a horrible wave of guilt wash over you.
“Can you cut her some slack?” Leah grunted.
“Stay out of this” Alessia hissed.
“No, actually. You’re making my girlfriend upset and unless you’re going to stop shouting at her, I’m gonna ask you to leave” Leah raised her eyebrows.
Your sister’s new found confidence for standing up for herself was now lost. Maybe not with you, but Leah could turn serious and intimidating in the space of a few seconds.
“I told Keira and Georgia this morning, the specifics as to why I did don’t matter right now. Your sister decided to keep it between us, and you need to just respect that. You know now” Leah was soft spoken but stern.
“Lessi, I’m really sorry. I know I should have told you. I just- I love Lee so much and I didn’t want anybody to get in between that or any pressure to be on us” you shook your head.
“So, you two are actually together?” Alessia asked, looking a bit stunned.
“Is that alright?” Leah smugly asked and Alessia nodded.
“If you’re not okay with this, please tell me” you pulled your sister’s hands so she would look back at you.
“She can’t tease me anymore” Alessia huffed.
“I can’t agree to that, that’s who I am” Leah argued.
“Leah” you grunted and stared at her.
“Fine, okay, yeah, I can lay off” she shrugged.
“I’ll see you in the morning okay? We can talk then, alone” you whispered as you gave your younger sister a hug.
“I’m not angry, I love you” she smiled as she pressed her forehead against your shoulder.
“Love you too” you smiled sweetly. As Alessia opened the door and left, it was like something clicked in Leah as she ran out after her.
“Two seconds, don’t follow me” she said as she sprinted by you and out the door. Before you could even get her name out of your mouth she was gone.
“Less” Leah shouted after your sister.
“Yeah?” The girl asked as she stopped walking and turned to face Leah.
“I’m sorry if it came across to you like I didn’t care about her” Leah began before clearing her throat. “I really love your sister and I care about her more than anything in the world”
“Well, it’s clear she really loves you too” Alessia smiled before turning away.
“Wait, Less” Leah pleaded as the girl turned back around looking confused.
“I’m sorry if it seemed like I was picking on you. I was just trying to get along with you more and I didn’t know it was upsetting you” Leah pouted. “It’s just the way Tooney is with you, that I didn’t think you minded”
“I’ve known Tooney my whole life, though” she shrugged and Leah nodded.
“I’m sorry, I hope there’s no bad blood and we can be friends” Leah stuck out her hand.
“Come here you big softie” Alessia chuckled pulling Leah in for a hug who immediately wrapped her hands around the blonde forward.
“We’re okay” Alessia added before letting Leah go and walked back to her room. Leah got back to the door, where you were stood in the frame.
“Thank you” you smiled.
“Yeah, yeah, get inside” Leah smirked.
The floor of the hotel was silent, even with girls sharing rooms. Due to flying and training and the dramatic reveal in the chill out area earlier, most people had opted to head straight to sleep.
“You awake?” Leah whispered as she felt you wriggle in her hold.
“Yeah” you replied quietly, turning to face her now, and smiling when you saw her.
“I got you something for our anniversary and I completely forgot about it until now. Do you want it now or in the morning?” Leah asked.
“Now. Obviously now” you giggled as you sat up and she laughed with a shuffle to get to her feet, turning on the light as she left the bed. She dug around her bag, the small one you hadn’t packed, until she eventually got her hand on a small box and pulled it out.
“Here” she smiled, handing you the box and sat anxiously on the foot of the bed, hugging her knees.
You opened the box to reveal a keyring attached to a key. You knew it was the key to Leah’s house that you already had, because you’d drawn a little heart on the side of it.
“What’s this?” You laughed. “You’re regifting me my own key to your house?”
“Look at the key ring” Leah whispered, hugging her knees even tighter. It was a picture of a little house with writing underneath that read:
Y/n and Leah’s
You stared at the keyring before you looked back at her.
“Will you move in with me?” She asked.
“Yes, yes. Oh my god Lee, yes” you squealed as you jumped to hug her.
“Oh my god Georgia, wouldn’t it be so bad for a certain couple if the walls were also thin here and everyone heard them” Keira dramatically shouted from the next room.
“Oh yes Keira, it would be terrible for everyone. And I repeat, everyone” Georgia shouted louder.
“God I hate them so much” Leah groaned.
“We won’t have this issue at Y/n and Leah’s” you smiled and kissed her again.
bit longer than usual… but the one everyone’s been asking for
masterlist
the house had been quiet when alessia left that morning. she'd kissed leah goodbye and then crouched down in front of you, still curled up beneath the duvet after climbing into your mummy's bed in the early hours, hair sticking up in every possible direction.
"i've laid everything out for you, lovie." alessia smiled as you moved slightly still not coming to the terms of it being morning time, as you nodded sleepily.
"and your england shirt's on the chair." alessia continued even though she was talking to you she was merely more reminding leah as you nodded sleepily again. "and your trainers."
"ok." was the most response your mummy got this morning as you stirred a little more, leah lying across from you scrolling aimlessly through her phone.
"and don't give mama a hard time." alessia added on the end her expression a bit more firm even though you didn't see it you could hear it
you moved to sit up slightly as you shot your mummy an offended look. "i never do. i mama's angel!"
leah had laughed so hard she'd nearly spilled her coffee on the white sheets of the bed, before muttering, "my angel devil"
several hours later and leah would come to regret not checking the wardrobe before casually mentioning the england shirt.
she's been so confident, too confident of everything going smoothly.
alessia had laid everything out before leaving for matchday. your tiny england shirt. navy shorts. white frilly socks. even your favourite little trainers sat neatly by the bedroom door.
simple and easy. there was absolutely no reason this should become difficult.
"angel," leah called from the bottom of the stairs as she slipped her own jacket on, having been ready for ages now. "are you nearly ready?"
"nearly!" you callled back your voice travelling down the stairs.
leah smiled to herself. "good girl!" she checked the time on her phone, you both were running perfectly on time.
five minutes passed and leah packed snacks into your little backpack, knowing majority would more than likely be gone before you even made it to wembley.
another five minutes disappeared. still no small footsteps. still no excited five-year-old charging down the stairs announcing that you were ready.
leah frowned as she placed her keys back on the table that was next to the door, "angel?"
"still getting dressed!" you called back, sounding hurried.
"...how are you still getting dressed?" leah called back but you probably hadn't heard her as there was no response just the unmistakable sound of wardrobe doors opening and closing and drawers sliding
something falling onto the floor and a tiny voice saying, "oops."
leah laughed quietly to herself but that should've been her warning.
she climbed the stairs, already rehearsing a gentle reminder that they needed to leave soon. "angel?" she knocked lightly before pushing open the bedroom door.
"...absolutely not." leah gasps as she stood mouth wide open at the door
you stood proudly in front of the full-length mirror, one hand on your hip, the other smoothing down the front of your shirt with enormous satisfaction.
not the england shirt alessia had carefully folded onto your bed. not even one of your many arsenal tops.
instead... you were wearing a tiny barcelona shirt that reached just below your shorts. the blue and garnet stripes looked almost comically bright against the rest of the room.
leah slowly walked around until she could see the back, her shoulders dropped.
across it, in bold white letters... ALEXIA.. 11
you spun around with the biggest grin imaginable. "i look pretty."
leah pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to think of a way that was going to slowly let you down, "angel..."
"what?" you glanced at your mama through the mirror, slightly confused you were ready so why weren't you leaving yet?
"...you do look pretty." leah began, her bottom lip being bit by her top lip at she tried desperately to find the words, "you also look.... very spanish-"
you giggled, the type that would make anyone melt, you definitely not understanding what leah was getting at, " i match alexia!"
"...you certainly do." leah sighed as you twirled twirled once in front of the mirror before holding your arms out dramatically.
"so we're ready!"
"no." leah said quickly as you stopped still.
you blinked, confused. "...no?"
"no." leah echoed as she walked over to the bed and picked up the untouched england shirt. it still had the tiny fold lines from where alessia had laid it out that morning.
leah held it up. "what happened to this one?"
you shrugged with complete innocence. "i changed my mind."
"i can see that." leah said as the england top stayed in her hands, there was no ways she could let you watch england in a barcelona shirt.. "we're watching england."
"i know."
"so..."
"so." you shrugged, you didn't get what the problem was, mama had asked you to get ready so you did.
"...why are you dressed like barcelona?" leah asked as maybe there was a compromise the two of you could make and you would wear the england shirt to the england game.
"'cause alexia plays there." you smiled, pointing to the shirt you were wearing as leah nodded, "and she's my favourite."
"i know she is."
"so..." you looked at her as though that explained absolutely everything which, in your mind, it did.
leah stared back as the silence stretched. eventually leah crouched so you both were at eye level. "sweetheart..."
"yeah?" you smiled at leah.
"you can wear this another day." leah tried slowly it hurting slightly that she was going to have to hurt your feelings slightly.
"but i want it today." you frowned, as your brow furrowed.
"but england are playing spain" leah tried again to explain, as you nodded along "alexia plays for spain... so don't you think.."
leah paused, mentally trying to solve a puzzle that had currently had no solution. "...maybe today we wear england?"
"i am supporting england." you told leah as she blinked losing your point of argument straight away.
"...you're wearing spain's captain on your back." leah pointed to your barcelona shirt.
"it's barcelona."
"i know it's barcelona."
"so not spain." you quipped back with a smile as leah was stunned slightly by your quickness.
leah opened her mouth then closed it again. technically... "that is not the point."
"but mummy knows i love alexia." you pouted, as leah held you closer rubbing a hand up and down your back as she hummed.
"she love alexia too..." you continued your ramble, as leah's face turned a little, "and alexia is mummy's friend"
"...they are?" leah asked more thinking aloud, not being totally in the loop on that apparent friendship.
"so it's nice." you finished your ramble as you looked a leah with a small smile, as she rubbed a hand over her face.
somehow every answer only made the conversation harder, "you're making this incredibly difficult for someone who's only five." leah mumbled as she looked back at you.
"i'm nearly six."
"that doesn't help."
you folded your tiny arms, deciding you weren't taking the shirt off. "i'm wearing this one."
"no.”
twenty minutes later, the england shirt had been offered and rejected. an arsenal shirt had been suggested as a compromise and again rejected.
even a plain white t-shirt had somehow been dismissed because... "it doesn't have football on it."
leah was rapidly running out of ideas.
"angel."
"no."
"angel."
"no."
"you have approximately three minutes before we absolutely have to leave." leah spoke seriously looking at the time on her phone before sliding it back in her pocket.
"i'm ready." you said with a hint of sass as you stood hand on the stair railing coming down the stairs painfully slow.
"in the wrong shirt." leah mumbled turning to grab her keys as you heard her, "in the right shirt."
leah turned back to you as you managed to come down a stair, "what if mummy feels sad?"
your eyes widened as you pressed both hands dramatically to your cheeks taking a seat on the stairs, "mummy would never be sad."
"she might." leah raised an eyebrow, this was her last gamble.
"no." you huffed.
"she could think you aren't cheering for england."
you frowned, really frowned and for a whole five seconds leah thought she'd finally won.
then your little face lit up. "i'll cheer really loud."
"...in a spain shirt."
"a barcelona shirt."
"that's... somehow worse."
"i'll shout..." you took the deepest breath you could manage. "COME ON MUMMY!"
the shout echoed around the hallway so loudly it probably reached the neighbours that leah actually flinched.
leah rubbed a hand over her face before looking back at you who was standing in front of her with all the determination of someone three times her size.
"...thank you for the demonstration," leah said dryly.
you folded your arms across your little barcelona shirt and lifted your chin triumphantly. "see?" you declared. "i told you i can shout really loud."
"i heard you," leah replied, trying not to laugh despite herself.
"so mummy will hear me too." there was absolutely no flaw in your logic, at least not in your own mind.
leah pinched the bridge of her nose. the two of you had been having the same conversation for the better part of half an hour.
england shirt? "no."
arsenal shirt. "no."
anything that didn't have alexia putellas' name on the back was apparently a "definite no." in your eyes
every suggestion had been met with the exact same answer, so with no ideas left...
leah reached for her phone. if anyone was going to convince you...it would be alessia. leah opened their messages and quickly typed.
le | we have a situation.
the typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
less | ??
leah glanced over at you, who immediately posed the second you realised a photo was being taken.
you planted your feet proudly on the third step up from the bottom, backpack already on. barcelona shirt neatly tucked into your shorts. alexia's name stretched proudly across the back.
then, just to make absolutely sure alessia understood how pleased you were with yourself. you gave the camera two enthusiastic thumbs up and the biggest grin imaginable.
leah sighed dramatically before sending the photo. three little dots appeared almost immediately. another message popped up.
less | 😂😂😂
a second later...
less | that's the one gio bought her
leah slowly lowered her phone and looked back at you. the shirt. the suspiciously smug smile and the complete lack of guilt.
"...of course he did," she muttered to herself.
leah typed another message.
le | THIS IS NOT FUNNY.
the reply came before she'd even locked her phone.
less | little bit funny.
leah rolled her eyes so hard they practically reached the ceiling.
leah | she has refused for THIRTY MINUTES.
another typing bubble.
less | gotta pick your battles sometimes babe 😂
leah stared at the message in complete disbelief.
le | you're unbelievable.
the was a pause this time before another reply appeared.
less | she's still coming to support englnad.
less | just... in a very lovie way.
leah looked over at the little girl again.
you were quietly spinning in circles now, making the barcelona shirt flare out around you as though you'd already won the argument.
which, judging by alessia's response... you probably had.
leah sighed cause as frustrating as it was...alessia wasn't entirely wrong. you weren't refusing to support england.
you were just insisting on doing it while proudly wearing the shirt of the footballer you adored most in the world.
another message appeared.
less | tell her i love her.
leah smiled despite herself, of course that was alessia's priority.
she typed one final reply.
le | she'll use that against me.
less | yeah probably 😂
leah laughed quietly under her breath before slipping her phone back into her pocket then she turned around.
you were already standing by the front door, bouncing impatiently on the balls of your feet. the second leah looked at you, those bright eyes widened hopefully. "mummy says she loves me?"
"...yes."
your smile grew even wider. "and she didn't say i have to change my shirt?"
leah hesitated, only for the tiniest fraction of a second. just enough for the guilt to settle in. "...no."
you gasped dramatically before throwing both fists into the air. "i win!"
you celebrated as though you'd just scored the winning goal at wembley, bouncing twice on the spot before rushing over and grabbing leah's hand.
"come on!" you said excitedly, already tugging her towards the front door. "we don't want to miss mummy!" leah allowed herself to be pulled along, laughing softly as she followed.
halfway down the hallway she glanced at the little barcelona shirt beside her. at the bright navy and garnet stripes. at PUTELLAS 11 stretched proudly across the back. then at the tiny hand wrapped so trustingly around her own. her heart softened despite every ounce of exasperation she'd felt over the last thirty minutes.
she let out the long, weary sigh of someone who had accepted defeat long before the final whistle. "i hope your mother appreciates how many grey hairs you've just given me."
you immediately looked up at her, studying leah's hair with complete seriousness. and after several seconds of careful inspection you shook your head. "you don't have grey hairs."
leah smiled. "...i will by kick-off."
you burst into a fit of giggles that echoed through the hallway then you tilted your head. "i still look pretty though?"
leah's entire expression melted. she crouched just enough to press a gentle kiss against the top of your head before smoothing down one of the little curls that had escaped your ponytail.
"you do." her smile grew. "you also happen to be the most stubborn child in england."
you beamed proudly, taking that as the highest compliment imaginable. "i get it from mummy."
leah laughed properly this time, she couldn't even deny it.
"...unfortunately," she said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as you both stepped outside together, "you really, really do."
⸻
the atmosphere at wembley swallowed up almost everything else.
flags, songs, england shirts everywhere. except... one very small barcelona shirt.
several staff members smiled as you walked past hand in hand with leah
one laughed. "brave choice today."
you nodded confidently. "i know."
leah muttered under her breath. "tell me about it." as you took your seats not far from the england dugout
england won and as the final whistle blew the stadium erupted.
you were already bouncing on the balls of your feet, practically tugging leah's arm out of its socket every few seconds.
"mummy!" you squealed, already pointing towards the pitch even though alessia was still surrounded by teammates, staff and cameras.
leah laughed quietly, shaking her head. you bounced again, unable to stand still for more than half a second.
"can we go?" you asked, your voice high with excitement. "please mama? can we go now?"
"as soon as they let families through," leah said patiently, smoothing down a curl that had escaped your ponytail. "they'll open the barrier in a minute."
"but it's been ages." you dragged out the word in frustration.
"it hasn't." leah smiled knowingly.
"it feels like ages." you let out an exaggerated sigh, your shoulders slumping dramatically before you immediately started bouncing again.
every few seconds you stretched onto your tiptoes, trying to see over the crowd of waiting families. "can you see mummy?"
"not yet."
"what about now?"
"nope."
"now?”
leah couldn't help laughing. "no, sweetheart."
the wait felt endless. for you, every second seemed to last a whole minute. you practically vibrated with excitement, clutching your esme the elephant
the second the barrier finally open, you didn't even wait for leah to finish saying, "careful..." you were already off.
tiny trainers flying across the grass.
"slow down!" leah called after her, laughing despite herself. across the pitch, alessia turned at the sound of a familiar voice.
"lovie?"
there you were. tiny, curly hair bouncing behind you with every step. the bright barcelona shirt stood out amongst a sea of white england shirts like a beacon.
alessia couldn't stop herself laughing. of course, only her daughter would wear a barcelona shirt to an england match.
alessia opened both arms wide. "lovie!" she called, her face breaking into the biggest smile she'd worn all day.
"mummy!" you squealed back, your little legs somehow moving even faster. you launched yourself the final few steps.
alessia caught you effortlessly, lifting you straight off the ground with a soft grunt before spinning you around once.
"there she is," alessia laughed warmly, pulling you into a tight hug. "there's my girl."
you wrapped both arms around her neck so tightly it was almost impossible to breathe. "i missed you," you mumbled into alessia's shoulder.
"i missed you too," alessia replied softly, rubbing gentle circles across your back.
you leaned back just enough to beam at her. "i saw you score!" you announced proudly, your eyes impossibly bright.
alessia gasped dramatically, "you did?" she asked, widening her eyes in mock surprise.
you nodded so enthusiastically your curls bounced. "i shouted really, really loud."
"you did?"
"mhm!"
alessia tapped the end of your nose. "i heard you."
you narrowed your eyes suspiciously before dissolving into a giggle. "you didn't," you declared confidently.
"i definitely did," alessia insisted with a grin
"no you didn't."
"i've got super hearing."
"you haven't."
"i have."
"you were all the way over there," you argued, pointing towards the corner flag on the opposite side to where you'd been sitting.
"i still heard you."
"nuh-uh.”
"yep."
you laughed so hard you nearly slipped from alessia's arms "you being silly, mummy"
"i might be, just a little bit" alessia brushed a curl away from your face before finally taking a proper look at what you were wearing.
her eyes dropped to the navy and garnet shirt, she tilted her head dramatically. "...hang on," she said, pretending to sound confused as if she hadn't seen the photo of you before you'd left the house with leah. "where's your england shirt?"
you blinked then looked down at yourself as though you'd genuinely forgotten what you'd put on that morning. "oh."
you shrugged one shoulder without a hint of guilt. "i wanted alexia."
alessia pressed her lips together, trying very hard not to laugh. "i can see that," she chuckled.
you searched her face carefully. "you don't mind?" you asked quietly.
alessia's expression softened immediately as she shook her head. "no, baby,," she said gently. "i don't mind."
"really?"
"really."
you smiled with obvious relief. "you still know i wanted england to win," you explained earnestly.
"i know," alessia replied, nodding.
"and i cheered when you scored."
"i know you did."
"i shouted, 'go mummy!'"
"you did."
"and..." you hesitated for a second before admitting with complete honesty, "...i shouted for alexia too."
alessia laughed again, unable to help herself. "i figured that might've happened."
"i like both of you." you admitted as alessia nodded she knew this, "but you're my favourite.”
alessia raised an eyebrow playfully. "...by a lot?"
you leaned in conspiratorially. "by this much," you whispered, holding your fingers barely an inch apart.
alessia laughed loudly. "only that much?"
you burst into giggles. "no." and you threw both arms as wide as they would go. "THIS much."
"that's better," alessia said, pulling you into another hug and kissing the top of your head.
a little later and you had somehow vanished. alessia frowned, immediately scanning the pitch.
"where's..."
"there!" leah laughed, pointing towards the opposite side of the grass.
ella was sprinting away with exaggerated panic plastered across her face. "no!" ella cried dramatically, glancing over her shoulder. "she's too fast!"
behind her, you chased after her with determined little legs. "i'm gonna get you!" you squealed between giggles.
"you'll never catch me!" ella called, deliberately slowing down just enough for you to think you were gaining.
"i will!"
"no chance!"
"I'M REALLY FAST!"
"you are!" ella laughed. "that's the problem!"
a second later ella pretended to trip over absolutely nothing.
"oh no!" she stumbled dramatically before collapsing onto the grass with an exaggerated groan. "i've been caught!"
you launched herself onto ella's back, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
"i win!" you declared triumphantly, throwing your arms in the air.
"you always win, kiddo" ella sighed theatrically, throwing one arm over her eyes. "i never stood a chance."
"you didn't," you agreed very seriously.
leah and alessia smiled as they watched the pair rolling around on the grass as alessia slipped an arm around leah's waist, "you look tired."
"i argued with a five year old for thirty seven minutes," leah said with a dramatic sigh, folding her arms across her chest.
alessia glanced over at her, a smile already tugging at her lips. "only thirty-seven?" she teased. "i'm impressed."
leah let out a quiet laugh and shook her head. "thirty-nine if we're being precise," she corrected.
alessia laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. "you could've just let her," she pointed out, bumping leah's shoulder lightly.
"i know," leah admitted with an exaggerated groan. she looked across the pitch to where you were currently chasing ella around with determined little legs before turning back to alessia.
"but it's england!" she exclaimed, throwing one hand into the air.
"i know," alessia replied, still smiling.
"and she's wearing spain's captain on her back," leah continued in disbelief.
alessia chuckled, trying not to laugh too hard at how genuinely offended leah still sounded. "it's barcelona," alessia corrected gently.
leah gave her an unimpressed look. "it's practically the same thing today," she argued.
alessia couldn't help herself. she stepped closer and pressed a soft kiss to leah's cheek. "thank you," she murmured.
leah blinked, her teasing expression immediately melting into something much softer. "for what?" she asked quietly.
alessia glanced over to where you were now triumphantly declaring yourself the winner of yet another game you'd definitely been allowed to win.
"for looking after her," alessia said, her voice warm with gratitude. "for putting up with thirty-nine minutes of negotiations over a football shirt... and everything else while I've been away."
leah smiled, reaching for alessia's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "always" she replied without an ounce of hesitation.
the final whistles of conversations echoed around the pitch as staff began gently ushering players towards the tunnel.
"come on, girls!" someone from england's staff called. "inside, please!"
one by one, players started saying their goodbyes to family members.
ella dramatically complained that she'd "definitely pulled a hamstring" after losing six games of tag to a five-year-old before jogging away, making you giggle as you waved your auntie ella goodbye.
leah reached for your hand. "come on, angel. mummy has to head in, we'll see her afterwards"
you nodded, though your eyes wandered around the pitch one last time, trying to soak everything in.
then you stopped. "...mama." leah followed her gaze.
a small group of spanish players were making their way towards the same tunnel from the opposite side of the pitch, chatting amongst themselves and signing the odd shirt and taking a few photos with fans.
one of them looked up, mariona. the arsenal forward paused mid-conversation her eyes immediately landed on the tiny barcelona shirt.
a grin spread across her face. she nudged the player walking beside her, saying something quietly in spanish. laia looked over too before laughing softly.
mariona gave the group a quick wave to say she'd catch them up before changing direction completely. instead of heading for the tunnel...
she walked straight towards them.
"lovie," alessia laughed quietly beside leah. "i think you've been spotted."
your eyes widened. "super mario!"
you let go of leah's hand and hurried over, stopping just in front of the arsenal teammate you'd seen dozens of times at your mummy's training.
mariona's smile softened immediately, she crouched down so she was eye level with you, "hola, pequeña," she greeted warmly.
you gave a shy little wave. "...hiya."
"its good to see you again," mariona said, her english carrying its familiar spanish accent.
you nodded. "you too.”
mariona's eyes drifted down to the shirt as she laughed quietly. "i had a feeling you'd be wearing barcelona."
you looked down proudly, smoothing a hand over the front. "my uncle gio got it for me," you explained. "when he was in spain"
"its beautiful," mariona told you sincerely.
you beamed. "i love barca."
"i can tell," mariona replied with a grin.
laia had wandered over by now, folding her arms as she smiled at the little girl. "even today?" she asked teasingly, raising an eyebrow.
you nodded without a second's hesitation. "i wanted england to win," you said earnestly. both spanish's players smiled.
"nut..." you continued, glancing down at the shirt again with obvious pride, "...i also like alexia."
mariona laughed, exchanging an amused look with laia. "i think someone would quite like to hear that."
you frowned in confusion. "...what?"
mariona held out her hand with an encouraging smile. "venir."
you instinctively looked back over your shoulder towards your mummy and mama, "can i?"
alessia smiled immediately. "go on."
leah chuckled, giving you a gentle nudge forward. "just don't forget who feeds you, yeah!"
"i won't!" you promised quickly before slipping your tiny hand into mariona's.
mariona smiled to herself as she led you towards the tunnel where the remaining spanish players were waiting and across the pitch the a few players drifting between groups of supporters.
they were signing shirts, posing for photos, stopping for small conversations that were never quite as quick as security wanted them to be.
meat the advertising boards, alexia was doing exactly that. a barcelona shirt then a spain one, a programme and then another shirt.
she thanked each supporter with a smile, chatting in spanish before moving onto the next person. then she looked up.
mariona was walking towards her and beside her a tiny little girl with bouncy curls and a barcelona shirt that looked just a touch too big.
alexia’s eyes immediately landed on the back of it.
PUTELLAS. 11.
her own name and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. “hola.”
you stopped, instantly. every ounce of confidence you’d somehow found talking to mariona and laia completely disappeared.
you simply stared, wide-eyed. mouth slightly open.
mariona chuckled quietly beside you. “i think you’ve made someone very nervous.”
your trainers stayed rooted to the grass, mariona gave your shoulder the gentlest little nudge. “it’s okay.”
alexia laughed softly, already lowering herself into a crouch so she wasn’t towering over the little girl. “hola.” her voice was gentle as she waved slightly, patient and warm, “you don’t have to be scared.”
you swallowed, you couldn’t quite believe the alexia putellas was in front of you, “…hi.”
alexia glanced back at mariona with an amused smile “you’ve found a Barcelona supporter at wembley?”
mariona grinned. “not just any supporter.” she rested a hand lightly against your shoulder. “this little one has spent all afternoon proudly wearing your shirt.”
alexia looked back at you. “you wore my shirt?” a tiny nod came from you,
“you came to watch england…” another nod. “…and you still chose barcelona?”
you finally found enough courage to speak, very quietly. “so everyone knew.”
alexia tilted her head. “knew what?”
“…that you’re my favourite.” it was barely above a whisper. the kind of confession only someone standing inches away could hear.
for a second, alexia’s smile softened into something almost emotional. “well…” she placed a hand gently against her own chest. “thank you.”
she glanced back at mariona again, curiosity dancing across her face. “whose little girl is she?”
alexia looked between them once more then shook her head with a small laugh. “no…”
mariona nodded towards the england players still scattered across the pitch. “she’s baby russo.”
alexia blinked. “…russo?”
“alessia’s daughter.”
recognition immediately washed over her face as her eyebrows lifted. “no…”
mariona laughed. “si.”
alexia looked back at you in complete disbelief before glancing across the pitch. and sure enough standing a little further away: alessia and leah were both watching.
alessia had one hand over her mouth, already smiling before anything had even happened. leah folded her arms with a grin.
as alexia looked back to you. “so…” a playful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “your mummy plays against me…”
you nodded. “…but today you wore my shirt.” another tiny nod as alexia laughed. “i think that’s very brave.”
nearby, laia had spotted the entire exchange unfolding and saying a word she pulled her phone from her pocket, “this needs recording,” she muttered with a smile.
the camera quietly captured everything.
alexia turned her full attention back to you. “so…”
“how old are you?”
“five .”
“five?”
you nodded. “i turned five.”
alexia smiled. “a big age.” she pointed gently towards the football still tucked under one of the advertising boards. “do you play football?”
“a little bit.” you nodded as mariona spoke for you saying you were football mad.
“a defender?”
you immediately looked horrified. “no.”
alexia laughed. “no?”
“i like passing.” you told alexia imitating one of your passing moves that you had learnt.
mariona snorted, “already a midfielder.”
alexia nodded approvingly. “a very important job.” she looked down at the barcelona shirt again. “and who bought you this?”
“my uncle gio.” you grinned proudly, “he knows barcelona is one of my favourite.”
“and he chose very well.” alexia nodded approvingly as you smiled shyly at the compliment. every answer came in tiny sentences, barely louder than a whisper.
nothing like the confident little chatterbox who had spent the afternoon proudly explaining to anyone who would listen why you couldn’t possibly wear an england shirt because “mummy already wears england.”
alexia found it endlessly adorable. another another minute of chatting and she reached into the pocket of a staff member standing nearby and borrowed a marker.
then she held it up. “may i sign your shirt for you?”
your eyes became enormous. “the… the shirt?”
alexia nodded with a smile “if that’s okay with you.”
for a second you simply stared as though you couldn’t quite believe you’d heard correctly then your entire face lit up. “yes please!”
alexia carefully turned the fabric so it stayed flat. slowly and neatly she signed her name beneath the number eleven. making sure not to smudge the ink before handing the pen back.
“there.”
you immediately looked down you reached out with one tiny finger and very carefully touched the fresh signature then looked back up.
your eyes were sparkling. “…thank you.”
“it was lovely meeting you, y/n.” alexia smiled before gently ruffling your curls. “i hope you keep enjoying football.”
“i will.”
“and maybe…” alexia winked. “…one day i’ll see you playing.”
you looked as though you’d stopped breathing altogether. “i’ll try.”
mariona smiled. “i think someone will remember today forever.”
“i think so too,” alexia replied warmly as she waved goodbye, a media officer ushering her away.
mariona held out her hand. “come on, pequeña.”
you slipped your tiny hand into mariona’s as you started walking back and laia’s phone was still recording and caught the exact second you spotted alessia standing not too far in the tunnel.
“mummy!”
you broke into a run. alessia barely had time to open her arms before the little girl launched herself forwards.
“oof!” she laughed, catching you effortlessly. “you met her!”
“I MET HER!” you squealed, practically bouncing in alessia’s arms.
alessia laughed, unable to stop smiling. “i know!”
“she talked to me!” you continued breathlessly, your words tumbling over one another in your excitement.
“i know she did,” alessia replied warmly, smoothing a curl back from your forehead.
“she knew my name!”
alessia’s eyes widened in exaggerated surprise as she gasped dramatically. “did she?”
you nodded so enthusiastically your curls bounced. “yeah! mariona told her i was little russo, and then she said, ‘it was lovely meeting you, y/n!’”
alessia couldn’t help laughing. “well… she was right.it was lovely meeting you.”
“and she touched my shirt!” you added, looking down at the signed barcelona top as though it had suddenly become the most precious thing in the world.
alessia grinned, glancing at the signature beneath the number eleven. “i noticed.”
“and she said uncle gio picked a good one!”
alessia smiled fondly, already imagining giorgio’s reaction when he heard the story. “i’m sure he’ll be very pleased to hear that.”
you hugged the front of your shirt protectively before looking back up at your mum, still beaming from ear to ear. “he’ll never believe me.”
“and…” you leaned in close, lowering her voice as though sharing the world’s biggest secret. “…she signed it.”
alessia looked down at the shirt, there it was. alexia putellas’ unmistakable signature beneath the eleven.
she couldn’t stop laughing. actual tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “i think…” she kissed the top of your curls. “…she liked you.”
you looked down at the signature one more time carefully smoothing the shirt with both hands then you looked back at her mum.
your voice was barely a whisper. “i think…” a tiny smile spread across your face. “…this is the best day ever.”
⸻
for the next three weeks, everyone suffered. every conversation somehow found its way back to alexia.
one morning over breakfast, you took a bite of your toast before announcing very matter-of-factly, “did you know alexia said my shirt was beautiful?”
alessia didn’t even look up from making coffee, used to this now. “yes” she replied with an amused smile.
a few hours later, as leah walked past the living room, “mama,” you called after her, “did you know alexia signed it?”
leah paused dramatically and rested a hand against her forehead. “only because you’ve told me fourteen times today.”
you frowned thoughtfully before holding up one finger. “it was fifteen,” you corrected proudly.
leah looked towards alessia. “…we’re raising a statistician.”
at breakfast the next day, you poked at your pancakes before looking up. “i think alexia likes pancakes probably.”
alessia smiled over the rim of her mug. “probably.”
leah snorted into her tea. “what makes you think that?”
you shrugged. “because everyone likes pancakes.”
“…can’t argue with that logic,” leah admitted.
in the car on the way to training, you gazed out of the window for a few moments before wondering aloud, “i wonder what Alexia’s favourite colour is.”
from the driver’s seat, alessia laughed. “i’ve absolutely no idea, baby.”
“you should ask her.”
leah burst out laughing from the passenger seat. “oh, just send her a quick text, less. ‘morning, by the way, what’s your favourite colour?’”
alessia shook her head, laughing. “i don’t think that’s happening.”
that evening, after stories had been read and the bedroom lights were dimmed, you hugged esme the elephant tightly.
“mummy?”
“mh?” alessia hummed, tucking the duvet around you.
“do you think alexia remembers me?”
alessia’s expression softened instantly. she brushed a curl away from your face. “i think she probably does.”
“you do?”
“i do.”
you smiled to herself. “good.”
even facetiming nonno and nonna became impossible. the second mario answered, “hi, tesoro!” he greeted with a grin.
“look!” you exclaimed, already scrambling to hold the barcelona shirt up to the camera.
mario chuckled patiently. “i’ve seen it, tesoro.”
“but have you seen the signature today?” you asked very seriously, tilting the shirt to make sure he had the perfect view.
carol laughed from somewhere behind him. “i don’t think signatures move, sweetheart.”
“they don’t,” you agreed with complete confidence. “…but it’s still nice to look at.”
eventually, leah found alessia laughing in the kitchen one evening while you carefully folded the signed shirt for the night.
"this," leah said, leaning against the counter, "is your fault."
"my fault?" alessia gasped with such dramatic effect as she was still trying to compose herself.
"you laughed instead of backing me up." leah pointed out with a smirk as she nicked one of alessia’s biscuits
"i did." alessia agreed quietly.
"and now our daughter thinks she's best friends with alexia putellas."
from the living room, you called proudly, "i am!"
leah closed her eyes. "there it is." alessia couldn't help herself. she laughed, wrapping an arm around leah before looking towards the living room where you were already telling esme the elephant, in great detail, exactly how alexia had smiled at her.
"you know," alessia said with a grin, "it could be worse."
leah raised an eyebrow, alessia smiled. "at least she still wanted england to win."
leah considered it. "...i’ll allow it."
from the living room came one final announcement. "when i grow up..." a dramatic pause. "...i’m going to play with mummy." another pause. "...and then with alexia.”
alessia and leah exchanged a smile. some dreams, they decided, were simply too lovely not to encourage.
You're a starting centre back for Arsenal Women's team, composed, vocal, one of the leaders on the pitch. Fans admire you for your intelligence and calm authority.
Online, though, you have a different kind of voice, a hugely respected writer on Tumblr with an alias, known for deeply emotional, character driven smutty women’s football fan fiction. People in the fandom hang on your updates. You've built a reputation for getting players right, their mannerisms, their dynamics, their quiet moments.
No one knows how close you actually are to the source.
Part 6
Word Count: 9.6K
Over the next few weeks, something gradual starts happening between you and Alexia Putellas, slow inches toward each other, the kind that almost feels accidental until one day you realise it absolutely isn’t.
It starts with little things, coffee appearing beside you before meetings because Alexia remembers exactly how you take it, your phone buzzing late at night with random messages in half English half Spanish, photos of ugly little dogs she sees in the street because apparently they remind her of you somehow.
You still haven’t recovered from that insult, neither has she apologised, then it becomes longer conversations after training, lingering in corridors, walking out together without really discussing it first.
The ease between you grows quietly and the flirting becomes a genuine problem, because once Alexia realises you’ll actually flirt back when she pushes enough she becomes relentless.
One morning you arrive early still half asleep, hoodie pulled up, carrying coffee, Alexia looks up from where she’s sitting immediately, “You look cute tired.”
You nearly walk directly into a wall, “What a horrible thing to say to someone before 9am.”
“But true.” Alexia just smiles into her coffee calmly like she hasn’t completely destabilised your nervous system before breakfast.
Another time you’re stretching after training when she walks past behind you and casually presses her hand against the small of your back to squeeze through a gap that absolutely does not require touching you at all.
You nearly forget how human speech works, Alexia notices and gets smug about it immediately, “You okay?”
You glare at her over your shoulder, “Move along.”
“Interesting reaction.”
“You’re deeply irritating.” Her smile only widens.
Sometimes the flirting is quieter though, more dangerous like the afternoon rain traps you both inside after a meeting, and you end up sitting together by the windows watching water run down the glass while the building empties around you.
You’re talking softly about nothing important when Alexia suddenly says, “You smile more now.”
You glance sideways, “That your professional analysis?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And I like it.” Simple and direct, the words settle warm beneath your ribs for hours afterwards.
Then there are the moments that almost feel too intimate too quickly, like sitting beside each other in comfortable silence while she reads something on her phone and your knee stays pressed lightly against hers the entire time without either of you moving away. Or the night she comes over to your apartment because you mentioned missing proper tea and she arrives carrying three different boxes she found at an international supermarket twenty minutes away.
“You drove twenty minutes for Yorkshire Tea?”
Alexia shrugs like it’s obvious, “You looked sad.”
You stare at her for a second too long after that, because nobody’s really ever cared about the small things like that before and maybe the worst part is Alexia doesn’t even seem fully aware how affectionate she’s becoming.
How she reaches for you naturally now, touches your arm when she laughs, fixes your hoodie strings absentmindedly while talking, looks for you automatically when she enters rooms. One evening the two of you are walking slowly through the city after dinner, shoulders brushing every few steps.
The teasing, the tension, the growing closeness something else slowly settles too, trust not fully formed yet, still careful in places, still fragile occasionally, but real. Alexia starts letting you see pieces of herself she keeps hidden from most people, the exhaustion after difficult matches, the pressure, the loneliness that comes with being treated like a symbol more than a person sometimes.
And you give pieces back too, your anxiety, the overthinking, the way you disappear into yourself when things become too loud emotionally. Neither of you ever formally acknowledge what’s happening that would probably make it too real, but one night while sitting together on your apartment balcony, Alexia steals your hoodie because she’s cold despite repeatedly insisting she wasn’t cold five minutes earlier.
You watch her pull the sleeves over her hands slightly, she catches you looking, “What?”
You shake your head softly, “Nothing.”
Alexia studies your face for a second, “You look at me soft sometimes.”
Your stomach flips instantly, you laugh weakly through it, “That sounds fake deep.”
“No.” Her eyes stay on yours steadily, “I mean it.”
The city hums quietly below you both, warm air drifting through the balcony and suddenly neither of you are smiling anymore, just looking at each other. Your pulse starts climbing slowly, because the flirting stopped feeling harmless a while ago and you both know it now.
Alexia keeps yawning intermittently through whatever story you’re half telling her, tiny ones she clearly thinks she’s hiding. You smile into your mug, “You’re clearly tired.”
She looks over immediately, eyes narrowing slightly in offence, “No,” she says, voice rougher now from exhaustion, “You just boring.”
You laugh softly and gently shove her shoulder with yours, “Come on.” Standing, you collect both mugs from the little table beside the balcony chairs, “It’s late,” you say over your shoulder, “We should go to bed.”
A beat of silence, “We?”
You glance back. Alexia’s looking at you carefully now from where she’s curled into the corner of the chair wearing your hoodie, like that isn’t already causing enough internal problems for you. “Yes.” One eyebrow lifts slowly, you point lightly toward her with the hand holding the mugs, “You’re mad if you think I’m letting you drive home that tired.” Alexia opens her mouth, you cut her off immediately, “Nope. Absolutely not.”
Her mouth twitches slightly, “You very bossy suddenly.”
“You yawned like six times in ten minutes.”
“Maybe dramatic yawns.”
“Alexia.” That gets a tiny smile out of her, you shake your head fondly before nodding back toward the apartment, “I’ll grab you something to sleep in.”
For a second she just watches you quietly, the soft balcony lighting catches warm against her face, you become very aware of exactly what you just offered. Alexia sleeping in your apartment and in your clothes, your pulse gives one hard stupid thud.
Apparently hers does too, because her gaze flicks briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes.
“You sure?” she asks softly this time.
The question feels bigger than just staying over somehow, you hold her gaze for a second then smile slightly, “I’ll be a good girl and keep my hands to myself,” you tease lightly, “I can do that, you know.”
Alexia laughs quietly under her breath, cheeks faintly pink now, “I not sure I trust this.”
“You wound me.”
“You survive.”
You grin despite yourself before disappearing back inside the apartment toward your bedroom, the second you’re out of sight you put the mugs carefully onto the kitchen counter and stare at the wall for a full five seconds trying to regain control of your nervous system, because there is a very beautiful woman currently sitting on your balcony wearing your hoodie about to sleep in your apartment.
For a second, Alexia Putellas just sits there staring at you from your balcony chair, you realise maybe two seconds too late what you actually just implied. Sharing a bed with Alexia Putellas, your heartbeat immediately becomes problematic. You clear your throat lightly while turning toward the kitchen before your own nerves can fully catch up with you.
“It’s not a big deal,” you call back casually. “You’re half asleep.”
Behind you there’s movement then Alexia’s voice, softer now, “You trust me very much.”
You pause briefly by the sink, rinsing the mugs out mostly just to give yourself something to do with your hands, “I do.”
The honesty leaves your mouth before you really think about it silence follows for a second, when you glance back toward the balcony doorway, Alexia’s watching you carefully again.
That look she gets sometimes lately, the one that feels like she’s trying to understand every thought in your head all at once. You dry your hands slowly against a towel, “You can take the bed,” you say, “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
Alexia immediately frowns, “No.”
“It’s my flat.”
“And?”
“And you’re the guest.”
“And you are idiot if you think I let you sleep on sofa in your own home.”
You laugh softly under your breath, “There she is.”
“What?”
“Bossy Alexia.”
She smiles slightly. “You like bossy Alexia.”
You point toward her warningly as you start down the hallway, “Stay there.”
Alexia lifts both hands innocently from where she’s still sitting, “I behave perfectly.”
“Historically inaccurate.”
That earns a soft laugh behind you as you disappear into your bedroom the second you’re alone, you exhale hard and drag both hands down your face. You’re not entirely sure your nervous system is built to survive this, you tug open drawers looking for spare clothes she can sleep in. An oversized hoodie, a pair of shorts.
You stare at them for a second too long before muttering to yourself quietly, “Get a grip.”
When you walk back out, Alexia’s moved inside now, leaning against your kitchen counter scrolling absently through her phone, she looks up immediately when you approach.
You hold the clothes out toward her, “Peace offering.”
Alexia takes them slowly, then looks down at the hoodie then back at you, a tiny smile appears, “You give me favourite hoodie?”
You blink, “How do you know it’s my favourite?”
“You wear it constantly.”
The fact she noticed sends warmth straight into your chest, you lean lightly against the opposite counter trying to ignore it, “Well.” You shrug slightly, “Don’t say I never do anything nice for you.”
Alexia’s eyes stay on you for a second longer than necessary, “You do many nice things for me.”
Your pulse stumbles awkwardly, you look away first, rubbing a hand at the back of your neck, “Bathroom’s through there,” you mumble.
Alexia doesn’t move immediately though, you glance back toward her, she’s still watching you, “You really keep hands to yourself?” she asks.
Your eyebrows lift instantly, “You testing me?”
“Maybe.”
You laugh softly in disbelief, “You are genuinely dangerous.”
A slow smile spreads across her face sleepy around the edges now and that combination nearly kills you outright, “You nervous again,” she says quietly.
You shake your head once, “Alexia.”
“Hm?”
“You’re in my apartment wearing my clothes asking questions like that.”
Her smile only deepens slightly “And?”
You stare at her for a long second before huffing a quiet laugh through your nose, “And I’m trying very hard to behave.”
🔴
You end up changing first, mostly because if you stand in the hallway talking to Alexia any longer while she looks at you like that, you’re fairly certain your nervous system will simply shut down completely.
By the time you come back out in an old Arsenal t-shirt and loose shorts, the apartment has gone quieter, softer somehow, bathroom light still glows faintly down the hallway.
You climb into bed with your book mostly because you need something to do with your hands besides think, the duvet feels too warm already. You’re only halfway through rereading the same paragraph for the fourth time when the bathroom door opens.
Your eyes lift automatically and immediately regret it, Alexia walks out wearing your clothes, your hoodie hangs slightly oversized on her frame, sleeves pushed up messily to her forearms, dark hair still faintly damp from washing her face.
She looks, you physically stop your own thought process there, dangerous that’s what she looks.
Alexia notices your staring instantly of course, a slow sleepy smile appears, “You read same page for long time.”
You blink once looking sharply back down at your book, “I’m reading perfectly fine actually.”
“Hm.”
You hear her moving closer across the room, the mattress dips a second later as she climbs carefully into the other side of the bed. Your entire body immediately becomes hyperaware of another person beside you, heat, movement.
You keep your eyes aggressively fixed on your book, Alexia shifts onto her side beside you, one arm tucked beneath the pillow watching you openly.
You can feel it without even looking, “You always this tense?” she says
“I’m not tense.”
“You holding book like survival equipment.”
You glance over finally, Alexia’s eyes are warm with amusement now, sleepy too, “You are in my bed,” you remind her quietly.
“Yes.”
“In my clothes.”
“Yes.”
“And you keep staring at me.”
“I enjoy this.”
You drop your head back briefly against the headboard with a soft groan, “This is psychological warfare.”
Alexia laughs quietly beside you the sound settles warm through the room, eventually you manage to focus back on the book for at least a few minutes or pretend to.
Beside you, Alexia grows quieter gradually, the kind of tired quiet where movements slow and breathing softens at one point you glance sideways again and find her already looking at you.
Neither of you speak immediately, "What?”
Alexia’s gaze flicks briefly across your face, “You look peaceful here.”
Your chest tightens unexpectedly, because peaceful is not a word anybody’s used for you in a long time. You look down at the pages in your hands again, “Don’t spread that around. Ruins my image.”
Alexia smiles faintly, “Too late.”
Silence settles again, intimate in a way that sneaks up on you, after another minute Alexia shifts slightly closer beneath the duvet, not touching just nearer.
Your pulse notices immediately, “You know,” she says softly into the dim room, “when I first meet you I think maybe you arrogant little defender.”
You snort quietly, “That’s harsh.”
“But now…” You glance toward her again, Alexia’s eyes stay on yours steadily, “Now I think maybe you just lonely sometimes.”
The words hit with terrifying accuracy, you swallow once, then try for humour because that’s safer, “You’re getting far too emotionally observant for my liking.”
Alexia only smiles softly and before you can think of something else to say she reaches over slowly and takes the book from your hands.
You blink, “What are you doing?”
“You not reading.”
“I absolutely was.”
“You read same sentence six times.”
“That feels statistically unlikely.”
Alexia places the book carefully onto the bedside table before settling back against the pillow again, then she looks at you calmly, “Sleep.”
You stare at her for a second, then laugh softly under your breath, “You’re very bossy in my home.”
“Yes.”
“And weirdly you keep getting away with it.”
That earns another small sleepy smile, the room falls quieter after that, you turn onto your side eventually, facing away mostly because facing toward her feels like a genuinely terrible idea.
A few minutes pass, softly behind you, “You still trying behave?”
Your eyes close immediately, “Alexia,” you warn weakly.
You hear her laugh quietly into the dark and you fall asleep smiling.
🔴
Morning arrives slowly, soft winter light spills through the gaps in your curtains, pale gold stretching across the sheets and bedroom floor.
For a few seconds you stay half asleep, warm and comfortable, aware only vaguely that something feels different, there's a weight. A slow blink and suddenly your brain catches up all at once, Alexia. Your eyes open immediately, very carefully, you glance downward.
At some point during the night, Alexia Putellas has moved closer in her sleep, much closer, one arm loosely draped across your waist beneath the duvet, face tucked near your shoulder, one leg tangled lightly with yours.
Your nervous system short circuits instantly, because Alexia Putellas is cuddling you unconsciously in your bed wearing your hoodie. You stare at the ceiling for a solid ten seconds trying to regulate your heartbeat before it wakes her up through sheer force alone.
The worst part is you don’t want to move at all, she’s warm, soft, still deeply asleep by the steady rhythm of her breathing against your shoulder. Something frighteningly tender settles low beneath your ribs, you shift slightly purely because your arm is starting to go numb.
Immediately Alexia makes a tiny sleepy noise and tightens her hold around your waist instinctively, your soul leaves your body, you squeeze your eyes shut briefly.
This is absurd, you are a grown woman, an international footballer and yet somehow reduced to complete emotional collapse because a beautiful Spanish midfielder is holding you in her sleep.
A quiet groan muffles softly against your shoulder then Alexia shifts slightly, brows faintly furrowing as she slowly starts waking up. You freeze instantly her breathing changes first slower and more aware.
Then finally her eyes blink open lazily against your shoulder, for a second she just stays there, still wrapped around you then realisation gradually reaches her too. You physically feel the moment it does, Alexia stills completely, neither of you move.
Then slowly, very slowly, Alexia lifts her head slightly to look at you, her hair is messy, sleep creased faintly across one cheek and somehow she still looks unfairly beautiful.
Your throat feels dry immediately, “Morning,” you say softly.
Alexia blinks once, then again, still clearly buffering mentally, “Hola.”
Her voice is rough with sleep, it nearly kills you, then suddenly awareness fully crashes into her expression. Her eyes widen slightly, because yes she is still fully wrapped around you, one arm around your waist bodies tangled together beneath the duvet.
Alexia pulls back slightly almost immediately, “Sorry.”
The apology comes quick and genuinely flustered, you push yourself up onto one elbow slightly, “No no, it’s okay.”
Alexia sits up slowly beside you now, hair falling messily into her face as she rubs tiredly at her eyes, pink slowly creeps into her cheeks. You stare for a second too long before catching yourself.
Your mouth twitches faintly, “You cuddle apparently.”
Alexia groans quietly and drops her face into her hands, “Oh my god.”
You laugh softly beside her, “I didn’t realise you embarrassed this easily.”
“I not embarrassed.”
“You’re literally hiding.”
“I am resting eyes.”
“That excuse feels weak.”
Alexia peeks at you through her fingers finally and the second she sees your smile her own appears automatically too, it was soft sleepy and real, you are in serious trouble.
Then her eyes flick downward briefly, toward your waist, where her hand had been, where your abs are peaking out from where your shirt had been pushed up, your pulse immediately stutters again.
Alexia notices, of course she does, a tiny smile pulls slowly at the corner of her mouth, “You not move away.”
Your ears burn instantly, “Well,” you mutter. “You seemed comfortable.”
“Hm.”
That sound absolutely should not affect you the way it does. You shove a hand through your hair roughly before climbing out of bed mostly because remaining beside her right now feels increasingly dangerous, “I’m making coffee.”
Alexia watches openly as you move toward the bedroom door, still sitting in your bed, still wearing your hoodie and looking entirely too pleased with herself suddenly, “You smile in morning too.”
You pause briefly in the doorway without turning around, “Coffee first, Putellas.” Her laugh follows you down the hallway anyway.
🔴
The evening had been soft comfortable in the way things had slowly become between you and Alexia lately. She’s stretched along one end of your sofa watching some Spanish drama you can barely follow beyond tone and facial expressions.
You’re half curled into the opposite corner scrolling mindlessly through your phone, occasionally glancing up whenever Alexia mutters commentary under her breath at the television.
“Can I ask question?”
You hum absently without looking up, “Sure.”
A small pause, “You tell your friends we spend time together?”
You answer automatically, “No.” Still not looking up from your screen.
The silence that follows feels strange immediately, “That what I afraid of.”
Your brows pull together, you look over properly now, Alexia’s eyes stay fixed on the television but her posture has gone subtly tense. Your phone lowers slowly into your lap, “What?”
Now she looks at you carefully, like she’s trying to gauge your reaction before you’ve even fully had one.
You stare at her for a second, then lock your phone entirely and set it down, “I thought that’s what you’d want to hear,” you say slowly. “After… well, you know. The whole fanfiction thing.”
Alexia’s expression shifts slightly confused almost, “Why you think this?”
You exhale quietly and stand, suddenly too restless to stay sitting down, “I just want you to trust me, Alexia.”
You move toward the kitchen mostly because you need space from the sudden tight feeling in your chest.
“Writing about you is one thing,” you continue, opening the fridge without even knowing what you’re looking for, “but telling people what you say to me in private are two very different things.”
Behind you, the television volume lowers, “This why you no kiss me.”
You turn immediately, abrupt enough your shoulder nearly clips the fridge door, “What?”
The word comes out softer than you intended, Alexia’s watching you steadily from the sofa now, “You think I no trust you.”
A disbelieving laugh leaves you before you can stop it, “Well when you have said those exact words to me,” you reply sharply, “yeah.”
Alexia sits forward slightly, forearms braced on her knees, “I been testing you.”
The room goes very still, your face tightens immediately, “What?”
Her accent thickens slightly as she continues carefully, “I tell you things. Lies sometimes.” She gestures vaguely. “Then somebody ask you later. See if you say.”
You stare at her, actually stare waiting for the punchline that never comes, your whole face scrunches in disbelief, “That’s completely and utterly fucked up.”
Alexia flinches slightly at your tone, “No”
“No, Alexia, seriously what the fuck?”
“I need know if I trust”
“You tested me?” Your voice rises sharply now despite yourself.
Alexia stands immediately too, “Y/N—”
“You got people to interrogate to me about you to see if I'd gossip?”
“It not interrogation”
“Then what exactly was it?”
Alexia’s frustration starts bleeding through now too, “You not understand how difficult this is for me!”
You laugh harshly, “Oh I understand perfectly actually.”
“No”
“You thought I was going to run around telling people private things about you?”
“You write stories online!” The sentence lands hard you physically recoil slightly like she slapped you, Alexia realises immediately her face shifts, “Not what I mean”
“Then explain it better.”
“I try!”
“No, you’re trying to justify something insane!”
Alexia throws a frustrated hand through her hair, “You no understand because you not me!”
“And you don’t understand because you never gave me a fucking chance!”
Your voice cracks loudly through the apartment, Alexia visibly startles, “Y/N no shout,” she says quickly, accent suddenly thicker again. “I no understand when you shout.”
But you’re too hurt now to stop immediately, “Do you know how hard I’ve worked to make sure you felt safe with me?”
Alexia’s brows pull together trying to follow your faster English, you drag both hands through your hair roughly, pacing now.
“I’ve been so fucking careful with you because I knew the fanfiction thing complicated everything and the whole time you’re setting little traps to see if I fail them?”
“I not trap you”
“You literally lied to me to test me!”
“I was scared!”
“So was I!”
That finally quiets the room the words echo between you both Alexia stills completely, your chest rises hard with breathing now.
You shake your head once slowly, “I let you into my life,” you say quieter now, voice rough, “Into my home.”
Alexia’s expression softens instantly, “Y/N…”
“And all this time you’re sitting there wondering if I’m secretly using you for notes on tumblr”
“No.” She steps forward slightly, “Not using.”
“Then what?”
She struggles for the words now, you can see it happening in real time, the frustration, the panic, the language barrier crashing directly into emotion. “I think…” She presses a hand briefly against her chest searching desperately for English. “I think maybe you know how make people feel safe. And maybe…” Her eyes lift to yours finally. “Maybe that dangerous for me.”
Your anger falters slightly at that only slightly, because underneath everything else, you can hear the honesty in it.
Alexia swallows hard, “I start trust you too much too soon maybe.”
The apartment goes quiet again, you stare at her for a long second at the tension in her shoulders. The genuine fear sitting underneath all of this and somehow that almost makes it worse, because she didn’t do this to hurt you.
You laugh once softly through your nose, humourless, “In trying to see if you could trust me,” you say quietly, “you broke my trust in you.”
The sentence visibly lands hard, Alexia’s face falls immediately, Alexia’s face falls so visibly it almost hurts to look at, but right now you’re too angry to soften toward it.
You shake your head slowly, pacing once across the living room before stopping beside the kitchen counter, “Just when I thought I could make a home here,” you say quietly, voice unsteady now despite your efforts to control it, “be happy…” Alexia stays completely still across from you, you laugh once bitterly through your nose, “I find out you’ve all just been laughing at me behind my back.”
“No”
“I’ve told you things,” you cut across sharply, “that I don’t tell just anyone.” Your chest aches suddenly, because that’s the real wound underneath all of it the fact you’d started letting yourself feel safe with her. “I trusted you.”
Alexia’s eyes shine immediately, “We not laugh at you.”
You shake your head again, “How am I supposed to know that?”
“I promise”
“You got people involved, Alexia.” Her face tightens instantly at that because she knows you’re right.
You rub both hands hard across your face before turning abruptly toward the hallway, you need air anything that isn’t this apartment suddenly feeling ruined around you.
You snatch your keys from the little table near the door, behind you Alexia’s voice comes quick and panicked now, “Where you going?”
“Out.”
“But this your place?”
You let out another hollow laugh while yanking the door open, “Yeah,” you say tightly. “Well that’s how angry I am.”
“Y/N wait—” But you’re already gone. The apartment door slams hard enough behind you to rattle the hallway walls.
🔴
Barcelona at night blurs around you in streaks of orange and white, you drive with no real destination, just movement, hands clenched too tightly around the steering wheel.
The anger keeps shifting shape every few minutes, fury, then hurt, then something uglier underneath both, because the worst part is you understand why she did it. You understand what it must’ve felt like finding out somebody had written about you for years online.
Understand why trust wouldn’t come easy after that, but god, not like this, not testing you. Not setting traps while looking you in the eyes and pretending things were real.
Your jaw tightens painfully, the city eventually thins around you as you drive further out along the coast road, dark sea stretching beside you beneath the night sky.
You pull over abruptly near a quiet overlook and kill the engine silence crashes into the car immediately, only distant waves somewhere below.
Your forehead drops briefly against the steering wheel and the anger fractures enough for the grief underneath it to surface properly, because you really had started building something here. Not just at the club, but you thought with her also.
You’d let yourself believe maybe this city could become home instead of just somewhere Arsenal sent you to disappear.
You’d let yourself want things again, soft things, dangerous things, your phone buzzes against the passenger seat. You already know who it is before looking, Alexia, another buzz immediately after, then another.
You stare at the screen lighting up in the darkness.
Alexia:
please answer
Alexia:
i sorry
Alexia:
i not mean hurt you
You lock the phone without replying and lean back heavily into the seat instead, staring blankly out toward the black water, for the first time since arriving in Barcelona you feel lonely again.
You don’t even notice someone approaching the car at first, too busy staring blankly out toward the sea, too deep inside your own head. The knock against the driver’s side window startles you enough your shoulders tense immediately.
Your head turns sharply, an older woman stands outside beside the car, expression gentle beneath the glow of the streetlamp overhead.
You lower the window slightly, exhaustion already sitting too heavily in your chest to really deal with being recognised right now, “Hola…” she says softly. “Y/N, right?”
You nod once cautiously, not rude. the woman’s face softens immediately like she recognises something in your expression.
Then she places a hand lightly against her chest, “Eli Segura,” she says warmly. “Alexia’s mami.”
Your stomach drops instantly, oh, that’s why she looked familiar, you can see Alexia in her now, especially around the eyes. For one horrible second you wonder if Alexia called her had told her all about you, "Everything okay, my dear?”
You look away toward the dark water briefly, not answering.
Eli studies you for a second longer before speaking again, softer this time, “Home sick?”
Something in the question nearly undoes you unexpectedly but you still, you don’t answer, Eli doesn’t push.
Instead she points lightly over her shoulder toward the quiet little street behind her, “I live just over road,” she says. “Do you want cup of tea?”
You probably should say no. You absolutely should say no. Instead somehow a few minutes later you’re following Alexia Putellas’ mother across the road and into her house.
The home is modest, warm in feeling, nothing remotely extravagant despite her daughter being arguably the biggest name in women’s football.
Family photos line shelves and walls, little bits of Barcelona scattered naturally through the space without feeling staged.
It smells faintly of olive oil and something baked earlier in the evening, Eli chatters softly while leading you toward the kitchen, “Alexia talks about you,” she says casually over her shoulder, “She tells me what good player you are.”
Your chest tightens slightly, you don’t know what to do with that information right now. You glance around quietly while following her, there’s something grounding about the house, something deeply normal.
Eli starts opening cupboards in the kitchen with increasing determination, “Now where did I put them…” she mutters.
You hover awkwardly near the little wooden table before eventually sitting down, a red and white checkered tablecloth covers it, tiny plants sit on the windowsill above the sink.
It feels like somebody’s actual home in a way footballers’ houses sometimes don’t, Eli continues rummaging through cupboards, “Keira used to come over with Lucy,” she says suddenly, then glances back toward you. “Kiera Walsh and Lucy Bronze,” she clarifies helpfully.
You nod faintly with a small polite smile.
“I buy tea for them.” She continues searching, “English tea. Strong tea.” She points vaguely into a cupboard, “Somewhere.”
Despite yourself, your mouth twitches slightly.
Eli notices immediately, “Ah!” She points triumphantly, “You smile little now.”
You huff quietly through your nose, “That’s generous.”
Eli finally locates the tea bags with visible satisfaction, “It shame it not work out between them,” she says conversationally while filling the kettle.
You lean back slightly in the chair, “Yeah.”
The kitchen settles into quiet for a minute just the sound of the kettle filling, then Eli turns toward you again, gentleness settling into her expression.
“Sugar?”
You nod faintly, “Yes please.”
“Good.” She points at you with the spoon, “English people always want sugar. Alexia drinks coffee like little villain. Very dark. No joy.”
A quiet laugh escapes you before you can stop it, Eli smiles immediately like she’s won something, she slides the mug toward you before sitting opposite at the little table.
The tea is genuinely proper English tea, strong enough to fix emotional damage. You wrap both hands around the mug automatically, letting the warmth settle into your palms.
For a while the conversation stays comfortably random, Eli asks about Barcelona, about whether you’ve found a supermarket you like yet.
You admit you got hopelessly lost walking home from training last week and accidentally ended up near the beach for an hour.
Eli laughs loudly at that, “You have no Barcelona survival instincts yet.”
“Clearly.”
“You need old lady GPS.”
You smile into your tea, “I think that’s just called a mother.”
Eli points at you immediately, “Exactly.”
The kitchen settles warmly around you both, a football match playing quietly somewhere from another room. You find yourself relaxing despite everything, just slightly.
Eli talks easily, about neighbours, about how terrible Barcelona traffic becomes during tourist season.
About how when Alexia was little she used to refuse naps because she thought sleeping meant she’d miss something important.
“That checks out actually,” you mumble into your mug.
Eli laughs, “She still terrible sleeper.”
You nod before you can stop yourself, “I know.”
The words slip out naturally, both of you pause slightly afterward, Eli’s expression softens around the edges, but she doesn’t mention it.
Instead she leans back slightly in her chair, “You know,” she says conversationally, “when Alexia first go away for football…” She gestures vaguely, “Big football. Not little girl football.” A tiny smile, “She cry every night first month.”
Your brows lift immediately, “No way.”
Eli nods seriously, “Every night.” Then she points at you, “Very stubborn even then though. She call me pretending she not crying.” Eli deepens her voice theatrically. “‘Hola Mami. Everything perfect.’” She rolls her eyes affectionately, “Meanwhile sounding like tiny sad pirate.”
You laugh properly at that warm and surprised out of you, you shake your head softly into your tea, “She doesn’t seem like someone who’d admit struggling.”
“No.” Eli’s expression turns knowing. “She likes carry things alone.”
Something about the sentence presses quietly against your chest, because you know that already, you’ve seen it. The way Alexia keeps herself tightly controlled even emotionally, the way vulnerability seems to physically cost her something.
Eli studies you over the rim of her mug for a second, “You do same thing.”
You blink caught off guard, “I don’t think so.”
Eli gives you a look that says she absolutely disagrees, “My dear,” she says softly, “you drove alone at night to sit by sea looking like world ending.”
You glance down at your tea with a faint grimace, “When you say it out loud it sounds dramatic.”
“It was dramatic.” Eli waves a biscuit at you, “Very footballer.”
You snort quietly, “I think I’m just tired.”
Eli’s face softens immediately again, “Yes.” She says it so gently it nearly hurts, “I think maybe you are very tired.”
The lump in your throat arrives suddenly enough you have to look away toward the little kitchen window, because that’s exactly it.
You are tired, tired of proving yourself, of losing homes, of trying to hold yourself together through every change like football hasn’t been slowly pulling pieces out of you for months now.
Eli pretends not to notice your eyes getting suspiciously bright, instead she reaches over and pushes the plate of biscuits closer to you, “Eat,” she orders lightly. “You too skinny for this much emotional suffering.”
A startled laugh breaks out of you, across the table, Eli smiles softly into her tea like that was exactly the reaction she’d been hoping for.
"Now, are you going to tell me what's troubling you so much"
You stare down into your tea instead of at her, for a second you consider brushing it off entirely. Saying it’s nothing, that you’re just tired, but something about this kitchen makes honesty feel easier somehow, maybe because Eli has the same quiet steadiness Alexia has underneath all the sharp edges.
You exhale slowly, “I probably shouldn’t…” You rub your thumb along the side of the mug. “It’s um…” A small grimace pulls at your mouth. “Something with Alexia.”
Eli leans back slightly in her chair, “She hurt you?”
The directness catches you off guard slightly, you hesitate, then nod once, Eli’s face immediately tightens, not angry exactly, “Mhm.”
You look away quickly, “It’s complicated.”
“Everything with my daughter complicated.” That earns the smallest huff of laughter from you, Eli points at you instantly, “See? Already true.”
Your smile fades again after a second though, because the ache is still sitting there heavily underneath everything. “She…” You pause, trying to figure out how to explain something that even sounds ridiculous aloud, “She didn’t trust me.”
Eli goes still quietly across from you.
You continue before you lose the nerve, “She was testing me.”
A crease forms between Eli’s brows, “Testing?”
You nod slowly, “She told me tonight she’d been making up little lies sometimes. Then getting people to ask me about them later to see if I repeated things.”
Eli stares at you for a second, then mutters something sharp and disapproving in Catalan under her breath.
You don’t understand the words, the tone says enough, “She thought because of the fanfiction thing maybe…” Your throat tightens slightly. “Maybe I couldn’t separate private things from fiction.”
Eli exhales heavily through her nose and leans back in her chair, “Oh, Alexia.” Not defensive, more tired like this is an old flaw she recognises immediately.
“She says she was scared,” you admit quietly, “And honestly… I understand why she would be.” Your shoulders lift weakly, “But it still hurt.”
“Of course hurt.”
You finally look up at her then, “She made me feel like every conversation we’ve had was secretly being judged afterward.” Eli nods slowly, listening carefully. You swallow hard, “I’ve spent months trying to make sure she felt safe around me.” Your eyes drop back to the mug again. “And the whole time she was waiting for me to fail some test I didn’t even know I was taking.”
Eli sighs softly, “My daughter…” She shakes her head slightly. “She trust very deeply.” A pause, “But very slowly.”
You huff quietly, “I gathered that.”
Eli smiles faintly for a second before it fades again, “When Alexia loves people…” She taps lightly against the table. “She becomes afraid.” Your chest tightens immediately at the word loves, Eli notices your reaction instantly, “Not only romantic,” she says gently, sparing you slightly, “People she lets close. She lose her father very young,” Eli says quietly after a moment. “After that…” She shrugs faintly. “Trust becomes complicated for her. She likes certainty,” Eli continues. “Control. Knowing things before they hurt her.”
Your jaw tightens because yes, that sounds exactly like Alexia.
“And when she cannot control feelings…” Eli gives you a meaningful little look. “She becomes little stupid sometimes.”
That drags another reluctant smile from you, “She definitely managed the stupid part.”
Eli laughs softly into her tea, “Yes. Then her expression gentles again, “But hurting you was not her intention.”
“I know.”
“And that maybe make it worse.”
You look at her sharply because that’s exactly it, if Alexia had been cruel deliberately, maybe this would feel cleaner somehow.
Instead it just feels sad and messy, Eli watches you carefully for a second before speaking again, “You know what Alexia biggest problem is?” You raise an eyebrow slightly. “She thinks trust is something you prove once.” Eli taps lightly against the table again. “Like passing exam.” She shakes her head. “But trust is choosing somebody again and again.”
The sentence settles heavily into the quiet kitchen, you stare down at your tea for a long moment afterward, “I really liked her.”
Eli’s face softens immediately, “Oh, my dear.”
You sigh quietly and stare down into your tea again, the warmth has started fading from the mug now, “But I’m doubting if any of it was even real.”
Eli’s brows pull together softly, “What mean?”
You swallow once. “How do I know the person I feel for was… her?” Your fingers tighten slightly around the mug. “The things she’d tell me… was that actually her or part of the test?”
The words sound worse once they’re out loud, Eli goes very still across from you.
You shake your head faintly before continuing, “She’d ask me things sometimes. Tell me things.” Your eyes stay fixed downward, “And now I’m sitting here wondering if every vulnerable conversation was actually calculated.” The lump in your throat thickens painfully. “Like was she genuinely opening up to me…” You laugh softly through your nose, humourless. “Or was she just seeing what I’d do with the information?”
Eli watches you carefully for a long moment, slowly she reaches across the little table and places her hand gently over yours, “My dear,” she says softly, “Alexia not smart enough for this much manipulation.”
That startles a laugh out of you unexpectedly Eli squeezes your hand lightly.
“She complicated, yes. Defensive, yes. But fake?” She shakes her head immediately. “No.”
You look down again, “She made me feel stupid tonight.”
“No.” Eli’s voice firms slightly. “She make mistake tonight. Big difference.”
You stare silently at the tablecloth, Eli leans back slightly again, studying you with that same calm gentleness.
“You know how I know feelings real?”
You glance up tiredly, “How?”
“She bring you to me without even knowing.”
Your brows knit slightly, “What?”
Eli gestures vaguely toward the window, toward the street outside, “She drive past here all the time when upset.” A small shrug, “Since she was girl.” Her eyes soften. “Tonight you come here too.”
Something shifts painfully in your chest at that, because you hadn’t even realised or knew this was where her mother live, you just drove and ended up here somehow.
“When Alexia likes somebody…” A tiny smile tugs at her mouth. “Whole family knows.”
You huff quietly, “I’m not sure that’s reassuring.”
“It should be. We all know about you”
You lean back slightly in the chair, exhaustion suddenly sitting heavily in your bones again. “She looked genuinely upset,” you admit quietly after a moment, “And that’s what’s annoying.”
Eli smiles knowingly, “Yes. Easier if she asshole.”
“Exactly.”
“But unfortunately…” Eli lifts one shoulder lightly. “My daughter is idiot. Not asshole.”
That gets another reluctant laugh from you, you rub tiredly at your face afterward, “I just…” Your voice softens. “I finally started feeling settled here.” The vulnerability in the sentence makes your chest ache immediately afterward, because it’s bigger than Alexia and one fight.
It’s Arsenal. London. Losing a home once already. You don’t think you could survive losing another one this quickly, Eli seems to understand that without you explaining, “You afraid this means you not belong here.”
You blink at her, then nod once silently.
Eli’s expression gentles even further somehow, “My dear,” she says softly, “one difficult night with emotionally constipated footballer does not mean Barcelona stop being home for you.”
A startled laugh escapes you, “Emotionally constipated?”
Eli waves one hand dismissively, “She get it from father.” Then she points toward you. “And maybe you a little too.”
You open your mouth to deny it then close it again, because unfortunately she’s right.
Eli smiles triumphantly into her tea, “Ah. See? Honest now.”
The quiet kitchen settles again for a moment then headlights sweep briefly across the little kitchen window. A second later a car door shuts outside.
Eli glances automatically toward the front of the house, “That be Alexia.”
Your stomach drops instantly, of course it is, you let out a quiet breath through your nose and lean back slightly in the chair, “Well,” you mutter dryly, “me being here doesn’t really help my case.”
Eli looks back at you with faint confusion, “What case?”
“The whole not being obsessed with your daughter for private information thing.”
That earns a full laugh from Eli, “Oh my god,” she says, still laughing slightly. “You young people are exhausting.”
You smile tiredly into your mug, “She already thinks I’m emotionally dangerous apparently.”
Eli waves a dismissive hand, “She thinks everybody emotionally dangerous.”
You suddenly become hyper aware of yourself sitting in Alexia Putellas’ childhood kitchen at nearly midnight drinking tea with her mother after storming out of an argument.
Objectively its an insane situation.
Your pulse starts climbing again automatically, “I should probably go.”
Before you can answer, keys rattle faintly near the front door, then footsteps the familiar sound of someone dropping them on the table near the entrance.
Your chest tightens involuntarily at the recognition of it, Eli watches your face carefully for a second before speaking softly.
“She been driving around too, I think.”
The sentence lands quietly between you somehow that hurts more than if Alexia had just gone home angry. You hear muffled movement in the hallway then Alexia’s tired voice faintly from another room, “Mami?”
Eli answers casually without taking her eyes off you, “In kitchen.”
Footsteps approach, your pulse is suddenly deafening and a second later Alexia Putellas appears in the kitchen doorway.
She stops dead, still in your clothes from earlier, hair slightly messy from repeatedly dragging her hands through it her eyes immediately finding yours, shock flashes across her face first.
Then relief so raw and visible it nearly knocks the breath out of you, “Y/N.”
The way she says your name makes you look away first, because suddenly seeing her upset too makes maintaining your anger significantly harder than it was twenty minutes ago.
Eli stands calmly from the table, “I make more tea,” she announces to absolutely nobody.
Then very deliberately disappears from the kitchen and the kitchen falls painfully quiet after Eli disappears again.
You keep your eyes fixed stubbornly on your mug, Alexia stays near the doorway for a second too long, like she isn’t entirely sure she’s allowed any closer. Neither of you speaks.
The tension sits thick and awkward between you now just sad you can feel Alexia looking at you though. Like she’s trying to figure out whether you’re about to leave again.
A cupboard opens somewhere just outside the kitchen, “Madre de dios…”
The frustrated mutter makes you glance up instinctively.
Eli appears again a second later carrying a packet of biscuits she apparently fought the cupboard for personally, “I swear this kitchen rearrange itself at night,” she complains dramatically while setting them down.
Neither you nor Alexia respond, Eli pauses looks between you both then sighs loudly, “Oh, this terrible.”
Your mouth twitches despite yourself, Alexia finally moves further into the kitchen quietly, leaning against the counter opposite you, still giving you space.
Eli points immediately between you both, “You two act like divorced people in bad television drama.”
“Mami,” Alexia warns softly.
“No, no.” Eli waves a hand dismissively, “I fix atmosphere.”
You stare into your tea to hide the faint smile threatening, Eli notices anyway, “Aha,” she says triumphantly, “English defender still alive.”
Alexia’s eyes flick toward you immediately at that, something softer enters her expression seeing the almost smile.
Eli starts bustling around the kitchen unnecessarily now purely to fill the silence, “You know,” she says conversationally while opening the fridge, “Alexia once cry because fish die.”
Alexia straightens instantly, “Mami.”
“She have funeral.”
You choke slightly on your tea, Alexia closes her eyes briefly in visible suffering, “I was six.”
“She make little speech.”
“Oh my god.”
Eli points toward her daughter with complete delight, “Very emotional speech.”
You’re fully smiling now, Alexia notices immediately, for the first time since the argument, the tension around her shoulders eases slightly too.
“She also used to bite people,” Eli continues helpfully.
“Mami!”
“When angry.”
You laugh quietly, “Honestly that one I believe.”
Alexia points accusingly toward you, “You are supposed support me here.”
“I’m gathering valuable character references.”
“That sound exactly like fanfiction writer thing to say.”
The second the words leave her mouth the room stills immediately and Alexia’s face falls.
Your smile disappears again automatically and across the kitchen Eli closes her eyes briefly like someone witnessing a small car accident in real time.
“Fantastic,” she mutters softly in Spanish.
Alexia pushes away from the counter instantly, “No. I not mean”
“It’s fine.” But your voice closes up again anyway.
You stare back down at the mug in your hands, the hurt rushing back so quickly it almost embarrasses you.
Alexia looks devastated immediately, “Y/N…”
Eli intervenes before either of you can spiral again, “So,” she announces loudly. “Who hungry?” Neither of you answers, Eli points sharply, “No. I refuse this sadness in my kitchen.” She opens a cupboard aggressively, “I make tortilla.”
“Mami, it midnight.”
“And?” Eli shrugs, “Painful emotional conversations need potatoes.”
The kitchen slowly fills with the smell of olive oil and potatoes. Eli moves around with the confidence of somebody who’s cooked the same dish a thousand times before, muttering softly to herself in Catalan while cracking eggs into a bowl.
You sit quietly at the table, Alexia leans against the counter nearby, still too tense and glancing toward you every few seconds like she’s checking you haven’t disappeared again.
Eli notices all of it, “You know,” she says while whisking eggs aggressively, “both of you are exhausting.”
Neither of you respond, Eli points the whisk toward Alexia first.
“You.” Her eyebrows lift sharply, “Very stupid.”
“Mami…”
“No.” She points again, “You do not test people like FBI investigation.”
Alexia exhales quietly through her nose, “I was trying protect myself.”
“And instead hurt somebody.” Alexia goes silent, Eli softens slightly but not much, “You cannot ask honesty from person while secretly checking if they fail.”
You glance down at the table automatically, because hearing somebody else say it so plainly makes the ache flare all over again.
Eli notices that too, immediately her attention swings toward you now, “And you.”
Your eyebrows lift slightly, “You run away.”
You blink, “What?”
“You hear something painful and immediately leave.” She gestures with the whisk dramatically, “Very footballer behaviour.”
“I was angry.”
“Yes.” Eli nods firmly, “And hurt. But still.” She points toward the front door, “You disappear.”
You open your mouth then close it again, because annoyingly she’s not wrong either.
Eli resumes cooking with the energy of a woman fully committed to emotionally rehabilitating two deeply avoidant athletes against their will.
“You both do same thing,” she continues. “When scared, you close.” She folds her arms briefly, “Alexia becomes suspicious. You become distant.”
Neither of you argue again because unfortunately its true.
Eli sighs heavily, “Honestly it miracle either of you tell feelings at all.”
Alexia mutters something in Catalan under her breath.
Eli immediately points the spatula at her, “I hear that.” That almost gets a smile out of you again, “You like each other very much,” she says matter of factly.
Your entire body immediately stiffens.
“Mami.”
“No, enough.” Eli shakes her head. “I am old. I see things.”
Alexia rubs tiredly at her forehead, you stare very hard at the tablecloth.
Eli continues completely undeterred, “One of you writes emotional football romance on internet.” She points vaguely toward you. “Other one drives around city crying and testing loyalty like medieval knight.” Then she throws her hands into the air. “And somehow neither capable of simple conversation.”
You choke softly on air, Alexia groans in visible humiliation, “Mami please.”
Eli ignores her completely, “You know what problem is?” she asks while sliding potatoes into the pan.
Neither of you answer.
“You both think trust means never getting hurt.” She shakes her head, “Impossible.”
The sizzling pan fills the brief silence afterward.
Then more quietly, “Trust means believing somebody care even when they hurt you.”
Alexia looks down immediately, your chest tightens painfully, because despite everything you do believe Alexia cares. That’s what makes this so hard.
Eli glances between you both and sighs dramatically again, “Also,” she adds, “you both terrible communicators.”
Alexia looks mildly offended, “I communicate.”
“You absolutely do not,” Eli replies instantly.
You snort unexpectedly into your tea, Alexia points accusingly at you, “Do not encourage her.”
Eli beams immediately, “Ah, there. Better.” Eli flips the tortilla expertly before looking between you both one final time, “No more secret tests,” she tells Alexia firmly.
Alexia nods quietly.
Then Eli looks toward you, “And no more dramatic nighttime ocean exile.”
You huff a laugh through your nose, “No promises.”
Eli points the spatula at you warningly, “English sarcasm not save you here.”
Eli still points the spatula directly at you from across the kitchen, “You Barça,” she says firmly. “You family now. I take no back chat.”
You blink at her, then laugh softly in disbelief, “That’s how this works?”
“Yes.”
“She’s recruited you,” Alexia mutters under her breath from beside the counter.
Eli ignores her instantly, “You come into my house sad, I feed you,” She shrugs one shoulder like this is legally binding. “Family.”
Something in your chest catches unexpectedly hard at the word family, you look down quickly before either of them notices how much that affects you.
Unfortunately Eli notices absolutely everything her expression softens immediately, “There,” she says quietly, pointing the spatula again. “That face. That why you no allowed disappear alone tonight.”
You huff quietly through your nose, “This is emotional blackmail.”
“Yes.”
“At least she’s honest,” Alexia murmurs.
Eli gasps dramatically, “Excuse me? You say this after secret psychological experiments?”
Alexia drags a hand over her face in suffering, “Mami, please stop calling it that.”
“What else I call it?” Eli demands. “You run loyalty test like CIA agent.”
Your shoulders shake with another reluctant laugh, Alexia points toward you accusingly, “You enjoying this far too much now.”
“A little bit.”
She narrows her eyes slightly, “You very annoying when relaxed.”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
Eli beams between you both like she’s personally repaired international relations, “Much better.”
The tortilla finishes cooking a minute later and Eli starts cutting slices onto plates like feeding the two of you is now a sacred maternal mission.
You accept yours quietly when she places it down in front of you, “Thank you.”
Eli pats your shoulder as she passes, “You too skinny.”
Alexia immediately nods, “Yes.”
You stare at her in betrayal, “Oh, suddenly you agree with her?”
“You are impossible to get to eat properly,” Alexia replies without hesitation.
“You’ve known me like three months.”
“And already stressful.”
Eli laughs loudly while sitting down herself finally, Alexia quietly nudges her knee against yours beneath the table as she sits down, but you don’t move away.
Alexia stays quieter than usual beside you, you notice it immediately.
She answers when Eli speaks to her, occasionally adds something dry under her breath toward you, but mostly she seems content just listening and watching. Probably still trying to figure out exactly how angry you are.
Eli, meanwhile, decides entirely on her own that tonight is apparently about learning everything possible about you.
“So,” she says while cutting another piece of tortilla onto your plate despite your protests, “tell me family.”
You sigh softly, “What about them?”
“How many siblings?”
“One older brother.”
“Close?”
You nod slightly, “Yeah. He lives back in England.”
“Mhm.” Eli settles her chin into her hand. “And mami?”
Your expression softens automatically, “Very close.”
“Ah.” Eli points immediately like she’s solved something, “That why you understand my cooking superior.”
Alexia snorts quietly beside you.
You smile faintly into your drink, “She’s coping surprisingly well with the move actually,” you admit, “Probably because she’s more emotional stable than me.”
Alexia glances sideways at you immediately at that, you ignore it.
Eli continues happily interrogating your life, by the time you’re explaining your niece, you’re relaxed enough not to realise how much you’ve softened until Alexia quietly says, “You smile different talking about her.”
Your eyes flick toward her briefly and she’s already looking at you, the tension in your chest loosens slightly, “She’s three,” you say softly. “Bit obsessed with football already.”
“Because auntie famous footballer.”
“No,” you deadpan, “Because her parents have created a monster.”
Eli laughs warmly, “You have photo?”
You hesitate a second before unlocking your phone, “Better,” you mumble. “Video.” You scroll briefly before finding it, “She calls me Aunty Grumpy,” you explain while handing the phone over.
Eli gasps dramatically, “I have no idea why.”
Alexia actually smiles properly beside you for the first time all evening, Eli slides her glasses on carefully before taking the phone.
The second the video starts, her entire expression melts, on screen, your tiny niece stands in the middle of a living room wearing a Barcelona kit far too big for her, little socks pulled up unevenly, hair half falling out its ponytail grinning directly into the camera.
Behind it, your brother’s wife laughs softly, “Lily,” she says, “what’s the song we sing for Aunty Grumpy now she’s in Barcelona?”
Alexia visibly freezes beside you hearing her own name, Eli looks delighted, “Yeah,” your sister in law laughs behind the camera, “What song do they sing?”
And then your niece starts clapping wildly with absolutely no rhythm whatsoever, “Oh força Barça Aleeeee!” Again but louder. “OH FORÇA BARÇA ALEEEEE!” Bounce bounce bounce, tiny hands smacking together off beat.
Alexia fully covers her mouth trying unsuccessfully not to smile, Eli is openly emotional already, “Ay dios mío…”
Your niece keeps going relentlessly, “FORÇA BARÇA ALEEEEE!”
By now even you’re laughing softly into your hand, “She did this for twenty minutes apparently,” you explain.
“She very committed,” Alexia murmurs beside you, eyes still fixed on the screen.
The video ends with your niece falling sideways into the sofa still chanting, silence settles softly around the kitchen afterward, Eli hands the phone back carefully like it’s something precious, “She beautiful.”
Your chest warms immediately, “Yeah,” you say quietly. “She is.”
Alexia’s still smiling faintly when she looks toward you again, not the careful guarded smile from earlier, “She look just like you,” she says gently.
You glance down at the phone in your hands, then nod once, “Yeah.”
Alexia goes quiet again after that, but a few seconds later beneath the table her hand finds yours briefly, gentle, tentative and when your fingers curl back around hers she exhales softly like relief.
Blue in Red DNA || Leah Williamson x Little Sister! Reader x Aggie Beever-Jones
In the world of professional football, loyalty is everything, and for Y/N, the younger sister of the legendary Leah Williamson, DNA can only be one color: Arsenal red. However, what began as a complicit friendship during England national team camps turns into a dangerous secret when an undeniable spark ignites with Aggie Beever-Jones, Chelsea’s rising star.
Based on this request, here, I hope you like it!!
Masterlist
---
Being at an England camp always felt somewhat surreal.
It wasn’t exactly a break, but it wasn’t the club routine either. It was a kind of bubble where time moved differently, where rivalries were put on pause—or at least, that’s what they tried to tell themselves.
That’s where it all began. Not with anything obvious. Not with a dramatic spark.
But with small moments that, in that context, were all too easy to ignore.
At first, just coincidences.
Training in the same group. Shared laughs in the gym when you both failed the same exercise. Casual remarks at the dinner table that started to linger a bit longer than necessary.
Aggie had this way of talking that made everything sound light, even when you were tired or frustrated. And you weren't exactly the type to open up so quickly, but with her, it was different.
Not forced. Not calculated.
Simple.
And that, in the midst of the constant pressure of football, was dangerous. Because when something feels easy, it’s much harder to ignore.
To everyone else, it made perfect sense that you and Aggie got along and had become practically inseparable; you were the same age, shared the same chaotic energy, and felt that same pressure of being the "future" of the Lionesses.
At first, it was hard for both of you to admit what you felt for one another, because even though feelings had already developed, you each thought the other didn't feel the same way.
But soon, that came to an end.
It was just an ordinary night. One of those nights where exhaustion weighs heavier than protocol, and everyone ends up scattered around the hotel, occupying spaces where they don't belong just to avoid being alone.
Your room was dark, illuminated only by the phone screen resting forgotten on the bedside table, playing a playlist the two of you had created. Aggie was lying on the other side of the bed, and even though there was plenty of space, she had decided to stay very close to you.
The brush of your shoulders through your sweatshirts felt like a silent confession. Aggie, who always had a quick comeback and a joke on the tip of her tongue, was unusually quiet, watching the shadows that the phone's light projected onto the ceiling.
"What are you thinking about?" you whispered, breaking the silence, almost afraid of breaking the moment too.
It took Aggie a second to respond. One that felt longer than it should have.
She barely turned her head toward you, just enough for her eyes to find yours in the dim light. You saw her open her mouth and close it so quickly you thought you’d imagined it; she pressed her lips together slightly, as if she were debating whether to speak or not.
"Um... I, you know, speaking hypothetically," she finally said, breaking the silence, "there’s this person..."
She left the sentence hanging. As if finishing it would make it too real. Even so, you didn't look away.
"Hypothetically?"
Aggie let out a short laugh, more nervous than you had ever heard her. "Very hypothetically."
"Right." You nodded slightly, the silence reigning once again after that.
The music was still playing softly, but now it seemed too distant, as if the world had shrunk down solely to the space between you.
Aggie turned her body a bit more toward you, propping herself up on her elbow.
"And… hypothetically," she continued, more slowly, "this person can’t stop thinking about someone."
Your breathing grew heavier without you even realizing it. "Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah, and she doesn't know what to do with that," she added. "Because… it wasn't in the plan."
That drew a small exhale from you. "Sometimes not everything goes as planned."
Aggie nodded slightly before continuing. "But this person is too afraid of ruining their friendship, because, well, you know... she doesn't know if the feeling is mutual."
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. It was thick. The kind that feels full of words that neither of you dares to say first.
For a moment, you looked at her. Really looked at her. Not as a teammate. Not as a friend.
You looked at her as if, for the first time, everything clicked.
"That person…" you began, your voice lower than you intended, "sounds pretty foolish."
Aggie frowned slightly, surprised. "Foolish?"
"Yeah," you murmured. "Because she’s assuming things without asking."
Her eyes dropped for a second to your lips before flicking back up. "Well… maybe she’s afraid of the answer."
"Or maybe," you added, firmer now, "the answer isn't what she fears."
Aggie held your gaze. This time there was no nervous laugh, no quick remark to escape the moment. Just her. Just you. Just that thing that had been growing between you for days, maybe months.
"And what do you think she should do?" she asked in a whisper. "Hypothetically."
You took a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear before speaking again. "I think that person… should stop overcomplicating things and should take the risk."
Aggie let out a long sigh, as if she’d been holding her breath since she walked into the room. The space between you vanished without either of you being able to pinpoint the exact moment it happened.
It was subtle. Natural. Like everything had been with her from the start.
the first touch wasn't a kiss as such. It was more like a doubt being resolved in the air. A shared breath that finally fit together. Almost as if you were both testing the waters.
But once she seemed to gain confidence, Aggie took your cheek and deepened it. It was a soft, slow kiss, heavy with everything you hadn't said to each other for a long time and had been longing to do.
When the England camp ended, you both returned to your respective clubs. The world split apart again: you to Arsenal red, she to Chelsea blue.
However, while you waited to see where the relationship would lead, you decided to keep it a secret from everyone.
Especially from Leah. Your sister.
You didn't know how she would react to the growing relationship between Aggie and you. Because for Leah, the world could be many colors, but in London, only red existed.
"Your sister scares me, Y/N," Aggie confessed one night over FaceTime. "I’m afraid her reaction won't be what we want."
You couldn't help but let out a low laugh, leaning your head against your headboard. "Come on… she’s not a monster."
Aggie looked at you through the screen with one eyebrow slightly raised.
"She’s Leah Williamson," she replied, as if that explained absolutely everything. "She literally breathes Arsenal."
"That’s not a lie," you admitted, letting out a sigh. "But she’s my sister. She’ll process it."
" 'Process it' is a very optimistic choice of words," Aggie countered, running a hand through her hair. "I feel like as soon as she finds out, she’s going to put a padlock on Colney and ban me from all of North London."
You couldn't help but let out a laugh at her growing concern, though deep down, you were just as scared as she was.
You loved your sister with all your soul, and you knew she felt the same way. She had always been there for you and had taken care of you; if you asked anyone who knew you both, they would say without hesitation that Leah was fiercely protective of you.
"We can’t hide it forever," Aggie said finally, her tone more serious.
"I know."
"And I don’t want her to find out from someone else."
That made you frown slightly. Because she was right.
In your world, secrets didn't stay secrets for long. There were always cameras, glances, whispers. There was always someone who saw more than they should.
"Then we have to tell her," you whispered, feeling a knot in your stomach. "But let’s find the right moment."
"Hypothetically," Aggie joked, though her smile couldn't hide her anxiety, "that moment doesn't exist."
Days went by, and the "right moment" still failed to appear. Because with Leah, there was never a middle ground. It was either absolute calm or a storm that leveled everything in its path.
And unconsciously, you began to postpone it. One more training session. One more day. One more match. As if time could stretch just enough to give you an easy way out. And without realizing it, that was your biggest mistake.
Because the moment of truth arrived without warning on a Friday afternoon. You had invited Aggie over, taking advantage of the fact that Leah had a late physio session and a meeting with the marketing team. Or at least, that’s what you thought.
You were in the living room, sitting on the sofa with a bag of popcorn between you. The TV was on, but neither of you was paying attention.
Too focused on your conversation, you didn’t hear the front door open, nor did you notice when Leah was suddenly just steps away from you.
Aggie was the first to notice.
Her gaze shifted just over your shoulder, and within seconds, her expression changed. It wasn’t exaggerated. It wasn't dramatic. But you knew her well enough to understand it.
Something was wrong.
"What—?" you started to say, turning slightly.
And there was Leah. Standing in the doorway of the living room. Silent. Not interrupting. Just watching.
There was no surprise on her face. No immediate anger, either. Just a calm that was starting to make you uneasy.
Her gaze dropped to your hands, where Aggie’s was resting on your thigh and yours was on top of hers—far too intimate to be "just friends."
"Hi, Leah," Aggie managed to stammer, her voice about three octaves higher than usual. "You’re... you’re home early."
"The meeting ended early," Leah replied, dropping her training bag on the floor with a dull thud that echoed through the entire room.
You jumped to your feet, letting go of Aggie’s hand so quickly it only made the situation look ten times more guilty.
"Leah, I..." you started, but the words got stuck in your throat.
Because Leah wasn't looking at you. Her eyes were fixed on Aggie.
And it wasn't just any look. It wasn't just the Arsenal captain evaluating a Chelsea player. It was your sister. It was that version of Leah who had always been one step ahead, protecting you even when you didn't ask for it.
"How long?" she finally asked.
Too direct, no beating around the bush.
Aggie blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Sorry?"
"Don't make me repeat myself," Leah said, crossing her arms. "How long has this been going on?"
Your heart began to race. "Leah, it’s not what—"
"No," she cut you off, looking at you this time. "Don’t do that. Don’t try to downplay it."
Aggie stood up slowly beside you. She didn’t take a step back. She didn’t move away. And that small gesture did not go unnoticed.
"A few months," she finally answered, her voice much firmer than you had expected.
Leah let out a dry, humorless laugh.
"Of course. Months," she repeated. "And in all that time, you didn’t think that maybe… I don’t know… you should tell me?"
"We wanted to," you cut in quickly. "We were just waiting for the right moment."
Leah arched an eyebrow. "And did that moment include me finding you in my house?"
That left you speechless. Because no. Clearly not.
Silence fell again, but this time it was different. Tenser. More fragile. Leah ran a hand through her hair, exhaling sharply before speaking again.
"Of all people," she murmured, more to herself than to the two of you. "It had to be someone from Chelsea."
"Don’t be dramatic, Leah. This has nothing to do with that."
"It has nothing to do with that?" she repeated in a low voice.
"No," you insisted, trying to stand your ground. "This is about us. About how we feel. Not about Arsenal or Chelsea."
Leah let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"Of course it has to do with it," she replied. "It matters because I know how this works. I know what happens when you mix everything together."
"I know I’m from Chelsea, Leah," Aggie said, maintaining eye contact with a bravery that made you admire her even more. "And I know that to you, that’s like being from another planet. But I’m not here for the badge, or the team. I’m here for her."
Leah’s eyes remained fixed on Aggie, as if she were trying to decide whether to believe her or not. It wasn’t empty mistrust; it was something more complex. It was calculation. It was protection. It was fear disguised as toughness.
"That is exactly what worries me," she said finally, quieter but no less firm.
"Leah…" you started, softer this time, "we’re not kids. We know what we’re doing."
"I’m not going to hurt her," Aggie interjected, with a calm that contrasted completely with the tension in the room. "The last thing I want is for this to end badly."
Finally, Leah let out a long, loud sigh, letting her shoulders drop.
"It’s a betrayal of the bloodline, Y/N," she murmured, though this time the tone was more of resignation than anger. "I put an Arsenal shirt on you before you could even walk. You have red DNA. This is… it’s a conflict of interests of biblical proportions."
For a second, the comment hung in the air. And if it weren't for the lingering tension, you probably would have laughed.
"'Biblical proportions'?" you murmured, raising an eyebrow slightly.
Aggie, beside you, made a visible effort not to smile.
Leah looked at both of them, narrowing her eyes as if she had just realized she had said that out loud.
"I don't see what's so funny," she added, though her tone no longer held the same hardness as before. "This is serious."
"It is," you replied. "But it’s also… a bit dramatic."
"A bit?" Leah repeated, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. "Do you have any idea what this does to my reputation?"
Aggie couldn't help herself this time. She let out a short laugh, which she tried to disguise as a cough.
Leah slowly turned her head toward her. "You find this funny?"
"No, no, of course not," Aggie said quickly, raising both hands in surrender. "I’m fully aware that this could collapse the balance of London football."
Leah huffed and turned toward the kitchen, but before she did, you noticed a smile beginning to tug at the corners of her mouth.
You visibly relaxed, letting out the breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Before she disappeared completely, you spoke up.
"So… is this an 'it’s okay'?" you asked cautiously.
Leah ran a hand over her face and then leaned both hands on the kitchen counter, turning her back to you for a moment. When she turned around, her expression was that of the same older sister she’d always been—the one who had patched up your scraped knees.
"It’s an 'I accept it because I love you,'" Leah admitted, narrowing her eyes at Aggie. "But listen closely, Aggie. You’re young, you’re talented, and I like you when you’re wearing an England tracksuit, but that doesn't give you immunity." She pointed a finger at her. "If you hurt her, it’s not going to be a club-level problem. It’s going to be personal."
Her voice wasn't raised, but it was clear enough for the message to be perfectly understood.
Aggie nodded once. No jokes. No looking away. "I know."
There was something in the way she said it that lowered the tension in the room even further. It wasn't an empty promise. It was firm. Direct. Real.
Leah held her gaze for a second longer, as if weighing every word, and then sighed.
"Fine," she murmured, turning back to the counter. "I guess I have to start accepting questionable decisions in this house."
"Hey!" you protested, crossing your arms and opening your mouth to defend your judgment, but Leah cut you off with a wave of her hand as she opened the fridge.
"Not a word, Y/N. My loyalty has a limit, and you just crossed it with a blue uniform."
"Actually, you’d look great in blue," Aggie murmured, giving you a playful nudge with her elbow.
Leah froze with her hand on the fridge door, closing it slowly with a click that made Aggie regret her boldness in less than a second.
"What did you say?" Leah asked.
"Hypothetically…" Aggie began, taking half a step back toward you, "that blue is a very primary color. Very… elegant."
"Aggie, stop," you whispered, trying to hold back a nervous laugh.
You took her by the hand and headed toward your room.
"Love you, Leah!" you shouted before closing the door.
Both of you collapsed onto your bed, letting out a sigh that seemed to empty your lungs of all the built-up tension as your laughter began to fill the silence.
"We survived!" she exclaimed dramatically, burying her head in the crook of your neck.
"I told you she wasn't a monster," you laughed, intertwining your fingers with hers. "She’s just... very protective."
Aggie propped herself up a bit, resting her head on your chest. The afternoon light filtered in through the window at an angle, giving the room an almost surreal feel, as if you were still in a bubble.
"I get it," she said, more serious now. "I’d want to protect you from someone like me, too."
"Someone like you?" You arched an eyebrow, amused.
"You know. Someone incredibly charming, with a bright future and impeccable taste in teams."
You threw a pillow at her face, but she caught it mid-air, pulling you toward her. The kiss that followed was unhurried; there was no longer any need to hide from cameras, teammates, or even your sister. It was a kiss that tasted like victory and a peace you were both only just beginning to savor.
Outside, in the kitchen, Leah made noise again—louder this time, as if she needed to remind you she was still there, that not everything was perfect, that there were still rules, boundaries, and an older sister keeping watch.
But inside that room, for the first time, it didn't matter much.
Summary :- Leah’s encounter with a certain kid at the hospital leads to something more.
Words :- 8.6k
Warning:- mentions of hospital, arrhythmia
——
What Leah didn't expect after winning the European championship was being confined to four walls, pale and dull, enough to depress even the happiest person.
She took a knock during their finals against Spain, which was brushed off in the moment only to come biting back the day after.
The doctors explained the process that they would go through, a knee surgery to fix the ligaments wandering about. Leah was zoned out for most parts of it just nodding her head on cue like a puppet.
The bed was rolled into the surgery chamber, knee was operated on and then came the hardest part, being caged in a room where Leah felt every corner was mocking her.
The defender held a foolish hope that she would be discharged immediately and allowed to heal in the comfort of her house. Doctors took exactly thirty seconds to crush that blooming dream.
She tried to death glare her way out of it but receiving one from her own mother who wasn’t playing when it came to her health, shut all her attempts down.
While the team used proper medical terms to explain the journey ahead, all Leah heard was ‘we are holding you captive in this hellhole for seven days. 24 hours surveillance and try to escape this place - well you can’t. So you may as well give up now’
And that's how Leah ended up in a hospital bed, barely making it to day two, on the brink of completely losing her sanity, cursing the ceiling above.
Training was set in motion once again at the club. And that meant Leah was not only missing the pitch but also her teammates who kept her entertained.
They were required out there and though she would never admit it out loud, she deeply missed Beth’s exaggerated imitation of their mates, Vic’s weird stories about her day and Lotte's horrible attempt at cracking dad jokes.
Her brother Jacob was summoned back to Australia for work, Amanda and David had to leave town for a day or two and promised to return as soon as possible.
That meant Leah was left on her own, to stare at the bare wall and possibly plan an escape route while she was at it.
The daily round of check-up was completed, her morning walk with a brace around her leg which had become her version of training was conducted successfully and the nurses were finally done with checking her vitals and asking million questions which Leah was least bothered answering.
And as the last one left, Leah lay on the cold, not-so-comfy bed bored out of her mind. After the third round of closing and reopening Instagram, she set the phone aside and let out the most dramatic and exasperated sigh known to humanity.
Leah propped herself up, carefully shifted her legs to dangle over the side of the bed before grabbing her crutches and steadying herself. Surely seeing the signs of life outside the four pillars would be better than watching some teenagers dance on her phone screen.
And as she limped towards the door, she chose to ignore the fact that the doctors had explicitly told her to rest and definitely not try to walk on her own.
But has Leah Williamson ever listened to anyone? No.
Was she planning to? Absolutely not.
She looked right then left, narrowing her eyes and scanning for signs of danger. When she found none, her journey to find a source of entertainment began.
She limped her way through the corridor, passing two or perhaps three rooms when something caught her attention.
From a room whose door was slightly ajar, a crayon bright red and wrapped in its sticker, rolled out and stopped right at her foot.
Her brows crinkled as she stared at the red stick of colour before glancing at the door and back at it again. Leah bent down, a task on its own and picked it up, making her way towards the entrance.
From the partly open door, the defender peeked inside, her eyes landing on an adorable figure.
Legs criss-crossed and upper body propped up against the raised backrest, was a cute little child whose head was buried deep into the colouring book on her lap.
Leah's heart melted and for a moment she didn't say a word but admired the features of the kid ahead. How her tongue stuck out at the corner of her lips, the brown freckles making a pattern and spreading across her nose to both sides of her face, her messy little curls falling from her forehead and getting in her eyes as her cute small hand tried to swat it away.
The defender knocked lightly at the door and spoke in a soft voice “I believe you've dropped your little companion”
At the sound of Leah's voice, the 5-year-old's head snapped up and her face brightened at the sight of her crayon in Leah’s hand.
“Red!” Thea exclaimed happily “it's my favourite colour”
“Is it now?” Leah hobbled her way towards the bed and held the crayon as Thea’s hand reached out, reclaiming it like a prize.
“Uh huh” she nodded “Red and pink! They both are”
“They are lovely colours indeed”
“I’m Thea. Thank you for bringing my colour back” she said with a wide smile
“I’m Leah and you're welcome, little one” the defender replied fondly
“What are you drawing?” Leah asked, leaning slightly so she could catch a glimpse.
Thea immediately held the open drawing book up and turned it around so Leah could get a proper look.
“Dinosaurs!” she replied excitedly, pointing at each one and naming them “this is pink dinosaur, this is purple, this is baby dinosaur-”
And the list went on as she pinpointed every shape she drew. Leah listened to everything intently, nodding her head seriously, playing along.
“Will you draw with me?” Thea looked at her expectantly, mustering the best puppy eyes and holding a green colour out for her.
On one hand, Leah could go back to her room, stare at the stupid walls and question all her life decisions or she could sit here with her newfound friend, who was currently giving her the most adorable puppy eyes she had ever seen, putting her drawing skills to use, while the 5-year-old planned to chat her ears off.
The choice was easy.
“I would love to” Leah agreed happily “but I must warn you I'm not very good at it”
“It’s okay” Thea nodded seriously, taking responsibility on small shoulders “I can teach you. I'm very good at it”
“Oh how kind of you” Leah said playing along “I'm sure I'm in very good hands”
She took the green crayon, gingerly lowering herself into the plastic visitor's chair and propping her leg on the stool ahead.
Thea’s hazel eyes fell on the brace on the defender’s leg and she asked with curiosity “What happened? Did you get an ouchie?”
“Mmh…I did”
“Does it hurt?”
“Not much, just a little”
“Oh”
Since Thea couldn't bend down all the way, she planted a kiss on her palm and then lowered her hand, very gently rubbing it over the defender’s brace.
“It won't hurt anymore. Mummy always kiss my ouchies better and I did it to yours”
Leah's whole demeanour softened at the five-year-old's words and actions.
“Thank you, little one” Leah said affectionately “And wow would you look at that, it doesn't hurt anymore!”
Thea beamed, happy that her remedy worked.
Hours bled into one another as both became engrossed in completing the drawing in front of them. Thea instructing Leah every now and then about how the colour shouldn’t go outside the line using the teacher’s voice Leah didn't know a five-year-old could muster.
The defender soon learned that Thea was a certified chatterbox, a never-ending fountain of information. In just a few hours, Leah learned her favourite food, the cartoon she loved to watch, the nighttime story her mum always read to her and her dream to become a princess when she grows up.
She babbled the whole time and Leah listened to every detail with a fond heart. She also learned that her best friend in the world was her mummy, her superhero whom she loved very much.
“Mummy works a lot” Thea said whilst colouring the dinosaur red “but she always brings the best cookies when she comes back, so it's okay”
Leah smiled, watching the girl’s tongue poke out in concentration again “She sounds like a good mom”
“She is the best mummy in the world!”
Before Thea could launch into another one of her stories, heavy footsteps could be heard outside the room and a second later the door burst open
“What do you mean we lost a patient - oh never mind found her” the nurse said to her colleague as her eyes landed on the defender.
Leah winced knowing the lost patient was most likely her.
Thea’s head shot up and she flashed a smile at Sarah, having found her way into the nurse's heart in her time here.
“Sarah!” Thea called out “Meet my new friend Leah!”
“Friend?” Sarah raised an eyebrow looking between both of them.
“Uh huh!” she nodded happily “we made so many dinos together. Look!”
She held the book over her head and Sarah chuckled at the questionable colours each dinosaur was painted in.
“They look very good”
“I know. I taught her how to colour”
“She did” Leah agreed “and she's a very good teacher”
“But you aren't a very good patient, are you miss Williamson?” Sarah accused “You were on a strict order of bed rest!”
“I was and I swear I planned to play by the rules…until I got bored” Leah said giving a sheepish smile “so I ditched the torture chamber and went for a quick walk”
“Which we explicitly told you not to do!”
“But I made a new friend! And also learned how to colour within the lines!” Leah tried to defend “doesn't being productive count for something?”
“Not when the doctors asked you to rest that knee of yours so it doesn't hurt”
“It doesn't hurt anymore!” Thea chimed in helpfully “I kissed the ouchie better”
“Kiss what now?” Sarah asked confused
“Yeah!” Leah beamed “Thea kissed my knee better. See turns out taking a walk wasn't a bad idea after all”
Sarah opened her mouth to point out how ridiculous that is but then saw the radiating smiles on their faces and not one ounce of regret behind those innocent eyes, sealed her lips knowing there was no winning against them.
“Unbelievable” Sarah muttered under her breath instead “okay but the fun's over now. You need to go back to your room and rest ms.Williamson”
Leah and Thea’s face mirrored each other's pout, both of their expressions dropping immediately.
“But I don't want her to go” the kid expressed sadly, tilting her head up and looking expectantly at Leah “please don't go. We still have so many pictures to colour”
How could Leah possibly say no to that? But realistically the defender knew if she resisted, Sarah wouldn’t hesitate to physically drag her out of the room. And the effect of the kiss was starting to wear off too.
Leah leaned forward and whispered gently to the Kid “I'll have to go, sweetheart. But I promise I'll come back tomorrow and then we can colour as many pictures as you like”
Thea still looked unsure so she did the only thing her five-year-old brain could think of to assure herself “pinky promise?” she asked, holding her pinky out
“Pinky promise” Leah replied without missing a beat, linking their fingers together.
The smile returned to Thea’s face after Leah's reassurance and she seemed content with the idea of getting to spend time with her again tomorrow.
The door closed shut behind Sarah and Leah as they made their way to her room, the defender grunting with every step.
“Still think the walk was a good idea?” Sarah asked amused, seemingly enjoying watching her struggle
“Definitely. Worth every colour lesson I got today” Leah grinned despite her knee “She's a good kid”
“She is,” Sarah nodded. “I bet you've just made her day. It isn't often she gets company and definitely not someone she gets to boss around”
Leah laughed softly, "Honestly, if every instructor could be as cute and adorable as she is, I wouldn't mind being bossed around”
“I’ll let the doctors know” Sarah smirked
Leah hesitated but then curiosity got the best of her “Can I ask what's going on with her? I know the staff technically aren't allowed to reveal information about their patient but do you mind”
Leah was right. Nurses absolutely weren't allowed to reveal anything but something in the defender's voice, the genuine care for the kid she met just a few hours ago, made her not doubt her intention and give some general information.
“It has something to do with her heart, abnormal rhythm patterns” Sarah said after a beat, considering how much she could let Leah on “She’s been here for a while and still under observation. Doctors are trying to figure out the root cause and how severe or dangerous it could be”
“She doesn't” Sarah agreed “But we assure you she's in good hands. We are doing everything we can”
“What about her family?” Leah asked “She’s a small child, surely someone from her family is allowed to stick around at all times?”
“They are but her only family is her mum and she works a lot. Double jobs, trying to meet the needs while also handling the bills”
That's when it hit Leah why Thea only talked about her mum and no one else. Because it was just you and her against the world.
Leah's heart ached for you both.
“But she always manages to make time for Thea. Honestly, I don't know how she does it. Between all those shifts and barely getting any sleep on a very uncomfortable plastic chair, she still manages to cheer Thea up like no other. No matter how tired she is, the girl always manages to put on the brightest smile whenever she's with her kid, reading her bedtime stories every night without fail”
“I know all about that. Thea wouldn't stop talking about her mum the whole time” Leah said affectionately “The kid loves her mum to pieces. She's her superhero”
“She definitely is” Sarah nodded “Y/n’s a supermom if I say so myself”
“Y/n..” Leah repeated, tasting your name on her lips for the first time
“Yeah, that's her” Sarah said stopping in her tracks “and that's your room. Go in and rest now”
“Yes ma'am” Leah replied, giving her a mock salute before going in and closing the door behind her.
The rest of her day was then spent pondering about all the details she received about you and Thea. And she couldn’t help the way a soft corner was slowly building inside her chest for the kid and her mum, part respect and admiration for the love Y/n had for her kid, part something warmer for a person she hadn't even met.
——
The English captain was never the one to break promises, especially the ones sealed with pinkies and a serious dedication towards colourful dinosaurs.
So naturally, Leah found herself in Thea’s room the next day and the next and the next, until the kid all but started recognising her from the rhythm of her footsteps alone.
It was the fourth visit and Thea’s head had already snapped up, looking excitedly at the entrance, knowing exactly who was about to enter before the door could even open.
“Hey there, little one!” she greeted from the door, paddling her way in
“Le-le!” Thea greeted her using the newfound nickname and with the same enthusiasm she had on every past visit
“I come bearing chocolates”
“Chocolates!” Thea gasped very dramatically, eyes wide and hands instantly flying up to grab it as if it were the first she was seeing them.
Leah chuckled at her reaction before taking a seat beside the bed.
“I will only share them with you if you keep this a secret between us and not tell Sarah; or who knows what she'll do to me. Deal?” Leah whispered playfully to her
Thea giggled at that but nodded immediately “Deal!”
“Good girl”
Every visit Leah would come bearing one gift or the other, asking her parents or teammates to buy it for her before coming to meet her. Whether it was a large pack of crayons or a dinosaur plushie, the way Thea's entire face would lit up made every penny worth it.
Each smile melted something in Leah's heart more and if she could, she would shower her with infinite gifts to never let it disappear, to never let the sound of her infectious giggles leave her ear.
Thea was in the middle of enacting yet another story, a dream she had previous night, hands flying in all directions, gesturing widely when the door burst open and you entered, breathless as if you'd sprinted all the way here.
“I’m sorry baby I'm late. I tried to come as soon as-” you had already started to ramble from outside the room but stopped when you spotted a stranger sitting beside your daughter.
A stranger who seemed familiar, as if you'd seen her somewhere but just couldn't point it out. But your brain was tired and you had no motivation to run it overtime.
“- oh - uh - hi?” you said, tilting your head slightly and furrowing your brows in confusion
Leah's head turned to face you and scrambled slightly in her seat, looking for her crutches and stood up
“Right - sorry- hi- no I mean I'm le-” the defender had no idea why she was fumbling with her words so much but luckily Thea cut her off before she could embarrass herself more
“Mummy!” Thea squealed happily “You're here! Meet my friend Le-le!”
“Oh” you said, eyes darting between your daughter and her before you finally cracked a small smile “so you're the one my daughter has been talking about non-stop”
“That’s me. Hi, I'm Leah” she said softly, heat suddenly rushing up her cheek
“Its nice to finally meet you” you replied, giving her a proper smile this time “I’m Y/n”
“I’m aware. You're all this little one talks about” Leah said kindly “Seriously it's very endearing to see how much she adores you”
“Is that true baby?” you cooed, shifting your attention to Thea and moving towards her to place a kiss on her forehead, the tiredness melting from your shoulders immediately at her sight.
“Uh huh” Thea nodded aggressively “you're the best mum ever!”
No matter how many times Thea repeats the same sentence, it always hits you right in the chest. Tears spring to eyes and you immediately embrace her in a hug and Thea just smiles against your chest.
“Thank you” you kiss her cheek “and you're the best baby ever!”
You know you haven't been around much lately since you took the second job and part of you was worried sick that Thea would hate you for it, for not spending as much time with her like before. But seeing her not hold it against you and seemingly understanding for her age made you utterly grateful for her.
“Now would you look at that” you teased as you spotted chocolate wrappers around the bed “Someone’s had dessert pre-dinner”
Thea giggled in response, trying very hard not to burst out laughing as their little secret was now out in open.
“That would be on me” Leah said sheepishly “I may have given a bar or two or possibly even three but in my defence it's very hard to resist those puppy eyes”
“I had four” the kid chimed in helpfully
“Great” you said, narrowing your eyes and looking at Leah “so I have you to blame if I find her bouncing off the walls at night”
Leah let out a soft, huffed laugh “Guilty”
You dropped your tote bag on the side and settled into the empty chair beside the bed, opposite the end where Leah had previously settled.
Leah shifted her weight, suddenly feeling very out of place “Uh- I should probably leave, you might want to spend some alone time with her. It was great meeting you Y/n”
“You can stay if you want” you gently put the invitation forward “I'm pretty sure she prefers you over me currently seeing how you've bribed her with so many chocolates”
“Uh-huh” Thea nodded in agreement “Please stay le-le. We can all play games”
“Are you sure?” Leah asked wearily
“Positive” you replied instantly “Besides, I have some very tasty snacks with me and I’m sure you could use a break from all the hospital food.”
“That you're right about” Leah laughed and limped forward taking her original seat, elevating her leg on the stool “thank you”
“It’s no worries at all. It's the least I could offer after all you've done for Thea”
The next hour was then spent in a bubble of normalcy that no one wanted to break, playing games the kid insisted on where every so often she would twist the rules that ultimately favoured her towards winning. Not that you and Leah minded, both more than happy to see Thea winning and grinning widely.
Leah kept stealing glances at you. Every few minutes her eyeline would make its way to you without her permission, taking in new details with each view. How the hazel brown eyes which were coated in exhaustion, immediately softened and brightened at the sight of your daughter's face, how the freckles spread on Thea’s cheek were definitely inherited from you, the same ones she’d caught on your nose when you smiled.
She wouldn't realise till late that she was staring until your head would tilt up to look at her to find her already looking; and both of you would jerk your head away so fast, it was a miracle none of you got whiplash.
The only reason you caught her time after time was probably because your vision too was trying to steal a glance of the blonde sitting in front of you, trying to read the features that laced her face
Conversation flowed, so did genuine smiles and warmth you hadn't felt in a while. You could see how attached Thea had gotten to Leah in a matter of a few days. She was laughing full-body laughs now, one where her teeth showed, her shoulder shook and her hands had flown to catch her stomach. No one had managed to make her this happy in a while, not at least since she was admitted.
And seeing them both interact, settled something deep inside your heart, a picture of something you once dreamed of.
You and Leah shared some bits and pieces about your lives with each other. You told her about your work and how hectic it would get especially with irregular shifts. She shared that she's a professional football player and that's when it finally clicked why her face seemed so familiar to you.
“I thought I’d recognised you” you said as realisation dawned on you “you are none other than the great English captain who led the team to victory”
“Now I wouldn't put it like that” Leah said shyly, never knowing how to accept praise “besides it was a team effort”
“Oh don't downplay it. You know it's a great deal!”
“It is” she shrugged “but as I said it's a team effort, can't take all the credit”
“Mhm, but still I think you were great throughout” you praised, giving her the credit she deserved but wouldn't take, with a kind smile.
“Thankyou” she said and held your gaze for the first time without turning her head away, neither making any attempt to break the moment.
It was only when Thea said something out loud, which you both completely missed, that the attention shifted from one another.
Leah cleared her throat and you looked down tucking a stray lock behind your ear, cheeks flushed red and trying to adjust the blanket around Thea’s legs.
“Uhm-” Leah reached for her crutches and stood up slowly “- I should probably go. It's almost time for my checkup and if Sarah doesn't find me, I'll be a goner.”
“Oh definitely. Sarah is very strict with timings” you chuckled
“You’ll be back tomorrow le-le?” Thea asked, the same question she would ask at the end of every visit.
Normally, Leah wouldn't hesitate to assure her but with you in the room, she felt like she needed permission. After all she was your kid and Leah didn't want to be intruding if you didn't like it.
So she glanced in your direction, silently asking if it was okay.
You seemed to catch on and nodded once in agreement. If you were being honest you didn't mind her company at all, it felt relieving to have another adult around if anything. One that made Thea joyful with her presence.
“Ofcourse, little one” Leah reassured after clocking your response
The defender limped towards the entrance, her crutches tapping against the floor, and you stood up too, falling into step with her, walking her towards the door.
Once Thea was out of earshot, you turned to her "Thank you for being with her, keeping her company when I'm not around. It really means a lot to her and to me”
“I like spending time with her” Leah said “and in all honesty, she's the one keeping me sane in my time here. She's a great kid”
“She is”
“And you're a great mom” Leah continued sensing you needed to hear this too “I didn't mean to overstep but Sarah told me how hard you've been working for her. It can't be easy but you're trying your best and that's all that matters. I know everything feels difficult right now but you’ve got this. Thea's going to be okay and so are you. You're doing a great job and I hope you know that”
You didn't know those words were exactly what you needed to hear. You didn't show it but everything was getting to you. You were worried sick for Thea and on top of that both of your jobs were starting to take their toll on you.
Whether it was lack of sleep or the sincerity in Leah's voice, her words landed exactly where she needed them to as a single tear rolled down your cheek. A reassurance that your daughter was going to be okay was one you desperately needed to hear. And although it wasn't a doctor saying it but instead a person who managed to cheer your kid up when everyone else failed, felt safe enough. And so you let yourself believe in her.
“Thank you” You said wiping the tear away “I didn't realise how badly I needed someone to say that”
“I understand” Leah kept her voice soft “sometimes a little bit of encouragement is what we all need”
“See you tomorrow, Y/n” Leah said while turning around and making her way towards the ward.
“See you tomorrow, Leah”
___
True to her words, Leah was there the next day. The only difference, she carried more than just stickers for Thea this visit around.
You'd told her yesterday you've been given the weekend off for completing all your tasks beforehand. So a cup of coffee and a slice of a sweet treat from her favourite place tagged along with the dinosaur stickers in her bag.
“You didn't have to,” you had said when the defender placed the takeout bag in front of you.
“I’m sure you could use a break from all the hospital food” Leah grinned, repeating your words from the previous night “and I promise this coffee is a hundred times better than one in the vending machine”
The weekend felt like a breath of fresh air in a room that had long run out of it. One that allowed the three in its shade to bond quietly over small things.
Leah with her football stories, Thea with her wild imagination to see T-rex in a rainbow dress, you with a melted heart at just how comfortable and safe Leah made your daughter feel; and Sarah with high blood pressure whenever she found the defender's nest empty.
If the nurse hadn't known otherwise, she would've guessed Leah had probably moved in with you in the ward. Escaping to your room the first chance she gets and wouldn't leave until Sarah practically dragged her out.
It was Sunday afternoon, when the fresh air that occupied every corner saw cracks in it.
“So,” you said, clearing your throat as you helped Thea pack away her crayons. “You’re finally getting discharged tomorrow. I bet you've missed the comfort of your own bed”
You knew this was coming. And logically you knew you shouldn't be affected by it. Because after all Leah was just a visitor, an adult friend of your daughter, a celebrity whose presence was going to disappear one day or the other. So why did the thought of her leaving still twitch at your heart?
Leah stopped mid-laugh, her expression sobering. She looked at Thea, who had suddenly gone very still. The five-year-old’s lower lip trembled, the realization finally hitting her that her friend wouldn't be just a few doors away anymore.
“You won't be visiting me anymore, le-le?” Thea whispered sadly, looking down, unable to face the rejection if that is what was coming her way.
“Little one look at me,” Leah said, bending so she could meet the kid's eyes “Do you want me to come and visit you?”
Thea nodded
“Then I will” Leah agreed instantly as if coming to meet her wasn't even a question to begin with.
“You promise?” Thea asked still unsure
“I promise”
“You won't break it?” The poor kid really didn't want to lose her friend.
“When have I ever broken my promise to you?” Leah smiled kindly, ready to reassure her ten times more if that's what was needed.
Thea beamed while you looked at the defender shocked.
“Leah you don't have to-” you started to explain that she didn't have to come visit, that she wasn't under any obligation, understanding she might have her own life to live too beyond all this hospital chaos.
But before you could, she cut you off.
“I know I don't have to,” Leah interjected, turning her attention to you “but I want to”
“Besides, don't tell Beth but Thea’s definitely a better entertainment than her. After all her single dream is more fun to listen to than all Beth’s stories combined” she teased trying to lighten the mood
Thea was happy with the promise given to her, wholeheartedly believing it, and you were too. But a part of you was still sceptical, still hesitant to believe her fully. After all, a number of people have walked out on you and your daughter after making promises far more meaningful than this. So what’s one more?
She's probably saying this to make Thea happy. She's probably not going to come back. She has her own life to live. She would forget about us. She would not remember the promise the moment she steps foot out of here.
You kept thinking to yourself, bracing, so when the inevitable finally hits, it wouldn't hurt as much.
But all that was thrown out of the window, when Leah showed up, day after day, even when the discharge papers were handed to her a week before. Truly she wasn't the one to back down from her words.
And that's how you could tell, this celebrity wasn't the one to disappear.
____
All three’s lives had fallen into a quiet rhythm, one that was starting to feel permanent, a flow you secretly wished would last long enough.
Leah coming to meet Thea after her physio, her favourite slice of cheesecake becoming a constant companion too. One that Thea would immediately stuff into her face and you complained she shouldn't be spoiling you and Thea with it but discreetly it was blending in to your taste too.
The defender would spend extra-long hours, more than any normal visitor should just to bump into you before she would actually leave.
‘Lost track of time’ she would shrug and answer after you'd tell her that she should be home and resting by now. Both knew that wasn't the truth but you never questioned it.
After a while you just accepted the fact that at the end of your day, there was now not only one but two people ready to greet you at the door. Something you started to look forward to as well.
Between all this, the five-year-old was the happiest of all. She would see her mummy and her now second-best friend interact, sometimes confused as to why often both their cheeks would turn red while talking but quickly catching on.
The pages of her sketch book that for the longest time had only seen two stick figures in front of a wooden house, were now expanding to three. A new person with blonde hair and blue eyes that Thea wished wouldn’t disappear anytime soon.
And along the route, you started to wish for it too.
“Then Steph just slipped and went face first into the grass” Leah was enacting yet another embarrassing incident her teammates were part of.
“That sounds like her” you laughed, but a slow, cautious one that didn't reach your eyes.
You had taken a few days off from work. Thea’s condition took a dip yesterday night, her temperature suddenly rising, dizziness and nausea all hitting at once.
Doctors had given her some medication to get it under control and it did help but something still didn't sit right with you and you didn't want to leave her until you were sure she was okay.
You'd been glued to her side since yesterday, barely getting any sleep in fear that something could go wrong the moment you close your eyes. Thea was everything to you, your whole world and you wouldn't risk anything when it came to her.
The first thing Leah noticed was the glum and tense atmosphere in contrast to the usual chirpy and blithe mood the kid carried around her.
You had filled her on everything that went down last night and Leah's concern magnified as did yours.
Leah tried to uplift the mood, her stories usually a success in making her little mate howl in laughter. Although today, the smile you two aimed for just wasn't appearing, not even the tiniest bit. You wanted to pin it down to her being tired and needing more rest but you could feel it was more than that.
Her tiny hand free from all wires hadn't left yours all morning. Every few minutes you would rub soothing circles on the back as if to remind her you weren't going anywhere.
You and Leah were having soft conversations, just something to fill the background to conceal the silence that was deafening, when suddenly you felt Thea’s hand go limp into yours.
Her tiny fingers would occasionally twitch, sometimes softly squeeze your hand back while your thumb rubbed gentle circles and then suddenly… nothing, just entirely still beneath your grip.
Everything after that happened so quickly, you couldn't process it.
Your head snapped in her direction, heart plummeting when you saw the way her face had drained of colour. Her eyes were open, but unfocused and you could see her breathing becoming shallower by the second.
“Thea?” you were instantly on your feet, rushing to her side “Hey, hey, what's wrong sweetheart?”
As if on cue, her heart monitor spiked, beeping so quickly you'd think it malfunctioned. Her chest rising and falling in quick sessions and you could hear her gasping for air.
“Doctor!” Leah shrieked, jumping from her seat and limping as fast as she could without caring for her knee and flung the door open, shouting on top of her lungs to call for help
“Doctor! Nurse! Help please! Someone hurry in here please!”
You were still by Thea's side, tears rolling down fast as you tried to help her or something, whispering incoherent things when a team of doctors and nurses quickly barged in and tried to usher you to the side so they could access the situation.
“No!” you yelled when a nurse tried to pull you away from her “I’m not going away from my daughter”
“Miss please, let the doctors do their job” the nurse tired to reason
“But my daughter-”
“Your daughter is in safe hands” Leah cut you off gently, appearing by your side and gently pulling you back by your shoulder so you could actually let them do their work.
You didn't say anything else, burying yourself further in Leah who still had a firm grip on your shoulder and protective fury running deep within her eyes.
The next few minutes were spent in suffocating silence as both watched the team working fast to stabilise Thea. An oxygen mask was quickly wrapped around her face to help with her breathing and you could see the doctor preparing the syringe which was then injected into her IV line.
You guessed it was to help control her erratic heartbeat as slowly the monitors lost their wild beeping and the tune returned to a steady rhythm it was before. Her breathing began to ease, still uneven, but no longer frantic.
The team exchanged a few words amongst them but you heard none, your focus entirely on Thea. How her face looked flushed, her eyelids fluttering, unfocused and unable to stay open.
You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the wheels below the bed clicking and a nurse trying to push it out the door.
“Where are you taking her?!”
Apparently the nurse didn't feel like answering so she ignored your worried question and rolled the bed right past you and out of the room.
You were about to storm off behind her when the doctor stepped forward and decided it would be sensible to let the mother know where her child was being taken.
“Don't worry, we have stabilised-”
“Where are you taking her?!” you repeated seething
“Hey, hey, calm down. Let him-” Leah interjected but you cut her off too
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” you snapped, shooting her a sharp look before turning back to the doctor “They can't just take my daughter away from me and not tell me what's going on!”
Leah didn't take your harsh words to heart. She could understand where your anger, which was mostly likely fear projected in the wrong way, was coming from. And so did the doctor who stood in front of you.
“We are not taking her away from you” he said keeping his voice calm “She’s stable right now. But we need to conduct some tests”
“Test? Why, what's wrong with her?”
“We can't say anything without having answers ourselves. And that's why we are conducting tests to make sure this doesn't happen again and know how to treat it right”
When you didn't say anything, he took it as a sign to continue “I understand you're scared right now but I assure you that this hospital has some of the best doctors out there and your child is in safe hands. Trust that we know what we're doing and will come up with the best solution there is for your daughter” he explained, giving a sympathetic look to you both before turning and leaving.
As soon as the door shut behind him, you collapsed on to the cold hard floor. The dam breaking and the tears rolling off at an uncontrollable pace.
Your entire facade of ‘staying strong’ crumbled the second he left, the fear tightening its claw around you, taking away your strength and leaving you miserable on the ground.
Leah's firm hold around your shoulder took her down with you, gulping her wince as it sent a sharp pang in her knee but she still didn't let go. Instead, she positioned herself awkwardly on the floor, the leg with the brace sprawled out and the other folded to carry the weight.
The defender manoeuvred your face so that it lay on her chest as one hand rested on the back of your head while the other rubbed soft circles on your back.
You didn't care about your surroundings anymore and as you felt soft fabric around your cheeks, you just buried your face into it more, your hands rising and fisting her t-shirt for its dear life.
The sounds that left your throat broke Leah's heart into a million pieces and she felt utterly useless as she couldn’t do anything to help you, to stop your pain and the tears that soaked her shirt.
“Shh, it's going to be alright” Leah whispered in your hair "Everything's going to be fine”
“I can't- can't lose her, Leah” you said between hiccups “I can't. She's - she's my everything and I can’t go on without her”
“You won't lose her” Leah whispered firmly “Thea's a strong girl. And I know she's going to be alright. She’s going to return back to her mummy and I know it”
You didn't answer, you couldn't. The lump in your throat wouldn't allow you to. You just sobbed and sobbed in her chest as Leah kept you close to her, whispering ‘it’s going to be alright’ the entire time, holding the thread of hope for you both.
——
It was late at night, way past the time Leah usually leaves but she would be damned to leave you all alone when you were so vulnerable.
At some point, Leah had managed to get you both off the floor and onto the chairs. You had cried yourself to sleep, the tiredness from previous days and fear all catching up, physically and mentally exhausting you.
Your head lay on Leah's shoulder and she didn't dare move an inch. She tried to stay awake, in case anything went south but eventually drifted off too, head dropping to lie on top of yours.
You both were woken up with a start by the sound of a certain door opening once again, the loud bang echoing around the room as the nurse rolled Thea's bed into the ward. The doctor, the same one from the previous night trailing behind them.
You shot up to your feet as soon as you spotted him, glancing first at Thea's sleeping form and then back at him. Leah rose to her feet beside you.
“How’s she?” you asked stepping closer to the doctor
“She’s been stable since last night. The dose we've given her seems to be working fine and has her resting well. We give it a good few hours before she eventually gets up”
He cleared his throat before continuing “We have the results from our tests and I would like to discuss it. Do you mind stepping outside with me for a moment?”
Your heart had dropped to your stomach as you nodded. Thoughts flooded your mind, each more terrifying than the last.
He was already outside the room while you still hadn't moved an inch. Your foot glued to the floor, clenching and unclenching your fist trying to calm yourself down.
“Hey” Leah's voice trailed, as she placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder “it's going to be alright”
“Do you- uhm” you hesitated but asked anyway “Do you mind coming with me?”
“Sure” she replied instantly “Whatever you need, I'm right here”
You had no idea which news awaited you outside but if it was something as terrifying as you had imagined, you knew you couldn't take it alone.
And having someone, especially Leah, gave you just enough courage to face it.
“So what do the results say?” you questioned as soon as you stepped outside, Leah right behind you.
“When Thea was first admitted, considering her symptoms, she was likely showing signs of arrhythmia, which is essentially an irregular heartbeat” he started “we conducted more tests over the period to confirm; as very often arrhythmia isn't a standalone condition but a sign of an underlying ailment”
Your heart almost dropped out of your body at his words, as if your worst nightmare was just about to come true. Your hand absentmindedly found Leah's, needing any form of physical contact right now.
Leah didn't pull back, just held your hand in hers and squeezed it as if to reassure that she was still there every step of the way.
“But Thea’s one lucky child. The results are negative and she seems to be in Atrial arrhythmia" he continued “This means the top chambers of her heart are quivering instead of pumping steadily."
You furrowed your brows “I'm sorry, I'm confused. Is- is that a good thing?”
“It is. It means that her irregular beats weren't a sign of an ailment but a lone arrhythmia” The doctor nodded, a small smile finally breaking through “It's usually caused due to improper electrical signals or electrolyte imbalance. But the good news is it can be controlled with proper medication”
“So does- does that mean Thea's going to be okay”
“I believe so”
“But yesterday-”
“What happened last night is common in such cases. Especially when the patient isn't on proper medication. Luckily Thea's body reacted positively to our medicines and we believe it's going to help her in the long term” he explained
“So are you sure she won't need any heavy surgeries I've read about in google?!” you asked away, forgetting how ridiculous that might sound to an actual doctor
“No, I'm positive. Proper medicines and monitoring and she'll be good to go” he chuckled answering your nonsensical reasoning “Besides google suggest surgeries if you so much as describe a fever too intensely. If I were you, I wouldn’t listen to it”
“I’m going to leave you ladies to it. It's been a long night for all” he said before parting ways
Leah and you released a breath you both didn't realise you were holding. The relief that hit you after receiving the news was so overwhelming, that you momentarily lost your awareness and your next action was one out of pure impulse.
You spun on your heels and before Leah could react or say anything, you engulfed her in a crushing hug.
“She’s okay! She’s okay! She's okay!” you whispered as your face buried in the crook of her neck, eyes clenched shut, tears finding their way down but this time out of pure solace.
Leah's hand flew out and she just froze. Your actions caught her off guard and she forgot how to breathe for a second.
But it was just a moment’s pause, her palms finding your back, hugging you just as close as her cheek rested on top of your head.
“She is. She's alright” she whispered gently, smiling to herself.
Her voice brought you out of your trance, finally becoming aware of what you'd done. But you didn't pull back. You just….Stayed, soaking in her warmth, melting more if possible in her embrace.
No words were exchanged and neither had attempted to break the contact. Both needing it just as much, staying in the hold just a minute longer till the moment allowed them to.
____
The smell of sterile floor cleaner had finally been replaced by the scent of lavender laundry detergent and the lingering aroma of the tea you’d just brewed.
You were home, with Thea, in your arms, safe.
It had been three days since her discharge. The doctor had instructed you thoroughly with all the necessary information. Compulsory checkup once a month, three yellow pills in morning, one red pill after dinner, keep this routine up and there'll be nothing holding Thea back from thriving.
Leah had been a constant support throughout, your living room becoming the next spot for the three of you to hang out.
Her presence around your home, around Thea, around you…. felt natural. As if it'd always belonged there. Like part of a puzzle that was missing and was finally found to make it whole again.
The house was quiet, the only sound being the tick of the wall clock and the soft rustle of blankets as Thea shifted on the sofa. She was fast asleep, her small feet tucked into the fuzzy dinosaur socks Leah had gifted her upon leaving the hospital.
“It might not be as good as the one you always drink,” you said, coming around from the kitchen with the teapot in your hand “but I tried my best so give it a try.”
You poured the tea into two cups before settling down opposite Leah.
“You might be wrong there,” the defender said after taking a sip “this is my new addiction now.”
“You don't have to lie you know” you laughed
“I’m not” she shrugged
Leah was looking in every direction except yours, fingers continually fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. You could sense that she wanted to say something but was too nervous.
You were about to ask what was wrong but she beat you to it.
“Okay so here’s the thing-” she blurted out “I've been meaning to tell you this but I really didn't know how”
“I - uh - I like you. Like a lot. Like really really like you. Since the time I've met you I’ve been in awe of you. And I don't think I've met such an amazing woman before. You're not only a great human but a fabulous mother to Thea - Thea, god, I can't even begin to tell you how much I love that child. She's become such a huge part of my life and so have you. I wanted to tell you this for so long but the time never felt right. And today- today I just had to let you know” she rambled, confessing everything that had been building up in her chest.
You blinked. Once. Twice. Taken aback by this sudden confession.
When you didn't answer, Leah panicked “Are you going to kick me out?!”
And then…you laughed, softly under your breath before looking back at her.
“Why are you laughing?!” Leah said, still clearly losing her mind.
“Because you're adorable when you panic” you replied, trying to get it together “and when you panic, you ramble and then blush, which you are currently; and honestly…it's the highlight of my day”
“I’m not blushing” she absolutely was, her cheeks were red hot
“What I'm trying to say is,” you reached forward, taking her hand and silencing the fidgeting “I like you too. Like a lot. Like really really like you”
Leah groaned as you took the mick out of her “Don’t. You don't know how hard I've been preparing for three days only to get most of my speech wrong”
“You got one part right though” you smirked “about you liking me and me liking you back”
“Good” Leah smiled, her shoulders finally relaxing. “Because I've been searching for places where the food is delicious and there's a sturdy kids’ chair beside the table where Thea could sit and draw all her wild imagination. If you'd like, I'd love to take you to one”
Your heart melted when Leah mentioned Thea. In a world where people often saw a child as a complication, Leah saw Thea as a priority, always carrying a space for you both. What more could you possibly ask for?
“I would love that”
____
A/n
Okay so, I don't really like this, but I'm posting it anyway. I wanted to give you guys something since it's been so long.
Please tell me what you all think. Your response means the world to me!💗
pairings ━ leah williamson x baker!reader, single mom!leah
word count ━ 7.9k
summary ━ leah’s four year old daughter, juni, devises a plan to parent trap you and leah
notes ━ if the first part is messed up… no it isn’t. i changed it from past to present tense and it took all my brain power also i had to learn about the uk education system so if it’s wrong spare me 🙏🏾 i had no idea this was still in my drafts omg.
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It’s one of those rare London days where the clouds thinned enough to let sunlight pour down. Leah Williamson, against all odds, is having what she would almost classify as a peaceful day. That peace lasted exactly thirty seconds.
"Mummy, pleeease? Please please pleaseeee?" Juni begs dramatically, tugging on Leah's jacket sleeve with all the strength of a four year old on a mission. Her voice is loud enough to make passersby glance over.
Mario laughs so hard she nearly trips on the curb, while Lia just shakes her head, her lips twitching.
"Bubs," Leah sighs, adjusting the shopping bags in her arms. "I don't even know what you're begging me for. You just started pleading without context."
Juni's little shoulders slumps in exasperation, as if she was burdened with the weight of explaining obvious things to an adult. "We have to go to my bakery," she huffs. "My honored bakery! Tell them, Super Mario!"
Leah turns a sharp look on her teammate.
"What bakery?"
Mario winces and raises her hands in surrender. "Okay, don't get mad. I might have... taken her to my friend's place once. Or, uh, every day I babysat when you had physio. She got attached."
"Attached?" Leah echoed, narrowing her eyes.
"Obsessed," Lia supplies helpfully, her Swiss accent rolling smoothly. "She talks about it constantly. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised she dreams in pastries now."
Leah closes her eyes, calculating the cost of saying no. On one hand was sugar, chaos, and a wired four year old bouncing around her flat. On the other was Juni's wrath and inevitable tantrum, which was infinitely worse.
"Fine," she relents with a groan. "Is it even open right now?"
Mario shrugs, smirking. "Doesn't matter. Oni will be there."
"Oni?" Leah repeats, suspicious.
"It’s a nickname,” Mario explains. "My friend. Trust me, you'll like her."
Before Leah could question any further, Juni squeals, "Yes! Let's go, slowpokes!" And tugs them toward the direction of the bakery with surprising force for such tiny arms.
The bell above the door chimes as Mario pushes it open, and instead of the usual soft jazz, upbeat reggaeton pulses through the space. Mario grins knowingly.
"She's here," she singsongs. "Oni? Where are you? I've got a guest...or three."
From the back, you appear with your hair piled up in a claw clip, apron dusted with flour, your cheeks smudged white like battle paint. You smile warmly at the group before your gaze landed on Juni.
"La chipie is back," you laugh, bending down just in time to catch the little whirlwind as she launches herself into your arms.
"How's my troublemaker? Still causing chaos?"
"No!" Juni squeals with a grin, arms wrapping around your neck. "I've been good."
From behind them, Leah snorts involuntarily. The sound catches your attention, and you look over at her with a smile that made Leah's breath hitch. Her face goes pink immediately, and Mario didn't even bother hiding her grin. Lia just smirks knowingly.
When Lia steps forward to hug you, Juni squawks indignantly and tightens her hold.
"No!" she pouts. "Mine.”
"Juni," Leah warns softly.
But Lia only laughs, brushing it off. "It's fine. Honestly, it's adorable."
"What did you make me today?" Juni demands as you carry her toward a table.
After setting her down in a chair, you dust your hands and smile. "Well, chipie, last time you gave me two ingredients. Oreos and, very specifically, Ruffles Original Chips. So today..." You disappear briefly into the back, returning with a silver tray covered by a glass dome. With an exaggerated flair, you set it down. "I present to you, Madame Juniper," you say in your thickest French accent, "Oreo madeleines with a crushed potato chip garnish."
Juni gasps like you've handed her the crown jewels. "You're the best ever!" she declares, digging in immediately.
"Want to introduce me to your friend before Juni eats everything?" you tease Mario, wiping flour from your hands on your apron.
Mario stands, kisses your cheek, then gestures between you and Leah. "Oni, meet Leah. Leah, Oni. Don't be weird."
Leah stands quickly, sticking out her hand. "I'm Leah. Uh—I know who you are. Not in a creepy way! Just... your dad. I'm a huge fan. He's the reason I became a defender." She cringes at herself. "Wow, that sounded cooler in my head."
You grin, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you, Leah, and relax. I promise I don't think you're a stalker."
Across the table, Juni was busy stuffing her cheeks and nodding sagely as though she'd orchestrated this exact moment.
"She talks about you all the time, you know," you add, still smiling. "Your biggest fan."
Juni, mouth full, nodded vigorously and mumbled, "It's true, Mummy."
Leah ducks her head, hiding her blush behind her hair.
"So, boss," you tap Juni's nose lightly, "what's the rating today?"
Juni chews thoughtfully, then looks to the ceiling. "Nine out of ten."
"Nine?" you gasp dramatically.
"Could be ten," she reasons. "If you have extras."
But you just laugh. "Don't worry. She has a great personality. Let her shine. Of course I made you extra, chipie, but you can’t eat it all before you get home.”
Juni nods her head as her eyes lit up. “Okay!”
“No. That’s what you said last time and you ate them all before we left the door,” Lia pipes up.
Juni shakes her head. “No! I pinky promise!” She shoved her pinky towards you and you wrap yours with her tiny one.
You kiss the back of your thumb, “Now you have to kiss your end, it locks in the promise.”
Juni giggles before she kisses her end. You get up dramatically, entertaining the four year old. "See? Now it's official. Extra madeleines for the boss."
Juni squeals in triumph, while Lia and Mario exchange knowing looks as they watch Leah’s eyes follow you as you move to pack the madeleines. Juni hops out of her seat to lean over the counter and talk to you.
Leah rubs her temple. "You're both conspiring against me, aren't you?"
Mario smirks. "Not yet. But soon."
Lia leans closer to Leah, whispering, "You like her"
"What? No." Leah flushes. "She's just... very beautiful. And sweet. And.." She trails off, watching you laugh at something Juni says. "And she's... good with Juni."
Juni perks up at her name. It wasn't like she’s difficult, she’s just challenging. She’s hyperactive and her mouth talks before her brain most times. Leah has tried dating but most women react badly to Juni's personality or ignore her entire being.
Mario snorts. "That's Oni for you. I've never seen a kid that didn't like her. But, I will admit, she seems to favor Juni because she would never bake with potato chips. She just learned to like them last year."
“Besides we don't even know if she likes women," Leah shakes her head.
Lia can’t help but let out a laugh as Mario blinks at Leah. "She likes women, Leah.”
Before Leah can argue, Juni, still chewing, mumbles, "Mummy and Oni."
The three women froze as you return with a prettily wrapped container of extra madeleines. You set it in front of Juni’s seat as she climbs back onto it, then slid into the seat right next to Leah this time.
"For you, ma chipie," you say warmly.
Juni grins, eyes darting between you and her mum. In her little head, the pieces were clicking perfectly into place.
“Juniper Kathrine, what has gotten into you?” Leah groans as her daughter sobs in her car seat.
“I want my toy!” Juni wails, face blotchy and red. Her little legs kick uselessly against the seat. “I left it at Oni’s bakery by accident when I went with Mario.”
“Okay,” Leah sighs, rubbing her forehead with one hand while the other grips the wheel. “Let me see if Mario can get it and give it to us on Monday.”
“No!” Juni shrieks like the word personally offended her. “I need Bunny!”
Leah winces. Of course it had to be Bunny, the stuffed elephant misnamed after a rabbit, the one Jacob brought the day Juni was born. Juni had never once slept without it. If she didn’t get it back, nobody in hundred mile radius would be sleeping peacefully this weekend.
What Leah didn’t know was that Juni’s meltdown was Oscar-worthy acting.
After watching you and Leah interact that first time, Juniper, wise beyond her four chaotic years, had decided the two of you belonged together. So she did what any self respecting toddler mastermind would do and sacrificed her Bunny at your bakery for the sake of love.
Step one of her plan, complete.
“Alright, alright,” Leah caves, starting the car because the alternative is a weekend of mutual misery. “A quick in and out.”
Juni sniffles dramatically, but she’s suddenly very calm, too calm.
Leah drives with her heart thumping and her mind fried. Juni sniffles behind her, occasionally hiccuping, and every time Leah reaches back to pat her knee she has to remind herself not to crash the damn car.
She parks across from your bakery and hurriedly unbuckles her daughter.
“Mummy?” Juni asks, planting her feet stubbornly when Leah tries to guide her toward the crossing.
“Yes, my Junebug?” Leah follows where she points, and stops dead. A flower shop right across from your bakery.
“Can we get flowers for Oni?” Juni asks sweetly.
Leah freezes, her soul leaving her body.
She mutters several sentences under her breath that if Juni heard, would definitely slip a few bills into the swear jar.
“…Alright,” she finally says. “You pick.”
Juni smirks so slyly it should be criminal and marches inside like she owns the place.
She picks tulips, the soft pink ones, because Mario once mentioned you like the smell of them.
Leah pays, face burning, while the older florist beams at Juni’s enthusiastic “BUH-BYE!”
Leah jogs to catch up with her daughter, taking her hand to cross the street safely.
“Come on, Mummy! You are so slow,” Juni complains, tugging her forward with the force and confidence of a child who believes she can pull a car if she tried hard enough.
Leah just laughs under her breath and opens the bakery door. The little bell chimes.
“Oni?” Juniper calls immediately, barely audible over the French pop music thundering from your speakers.
You poke your head out from the kitchen and your whole face lights up.
“Leah! Chipie!” You rush forward, turning down the music. You swoop Juni into your arms and she wraps herself around your neck like a koala. Then you look at Leah and smile brightly. Leah smiles back before she even realizes she’s doing it.
“What do I owe this pleasure?”
Leah opens her mouth, but Juni beats her to it.
“Oni, do you have any treats?”
You giggle, and Leah gently nudges her daughter’s shoulder in a half-hearted scold.
“I have some pain au chocolat.”
Juni gasps as if you just promised her the moon. “Chocolate?”
“Yeah, chipie, chocolate.” You glance at Leah. “Is that alright? She was here earlier, but she only had a sandwich.”
Leah’s mouth goes dry. “Um—yeah. She can have it. It’s fine.”
Your smile widens. “Perfect. One moment.”
As you disappear, Leah kneels beside Juni.
“Alright, bug. Where is Bunny?”
You reappear with a pastry in one hand and the stuffed elephant in the other.
“Chipie,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Did you leave this here earlier?”
Juni grins proudly. “I did!”
Then she gestures toward the pastries and the table. “Let’s eat!”
You laugh and, with a dramatic bow, say, “Yes, boss.” You take a seat. Leah follows, her heart beating too fast.
“So,” Leah says before she can stop herself, “why did you move to London?”
You blink at her, pleasantly surprised. “To open my bakery. I have one in France, one in New York, one in Barcelona. I was deciding on LA for the next one, love California, but Laia convinced me London needed one.”
Leah’s mouth drops. “You opened all of those? At your age?”
You shrug, shy. “It’s my livelihood. And I like seeing people happy because of my treats.” You glance at Juni, who is shoveling chocolate into her mouth like she’s in training for the Olympics. “Like Chipie here.”
Leah softens completely as she watches her kid beam at you.
“Where did you learn to bake?” Leah asks, voice lower now, genuinely interested.
“Professionally? The Culinary Arts Academy. Bachelor’s and master’s in Pastry and Culinary Arts.”
“Wow.”
“Unofficially?” you smile. “My dad.”
Leah’s eyebrows shoot up. “Your father? The Maestro? Le Roi? The most feared center back in football taught you to bake? You’re taking the piss.”
You throw your head back laughing. “I’m serious! I wanted to make chocolate chip cookies at age five. We had no recipe. My father told me: ‘Ma princesse, baking is about your soul. Not measurements.’”
Leah snorts. “How’d that turn out?”
You suck your teeth. “Let’s just say the 2004 Arsenal men’s team were… extremely polite about my rock-hard cookies. Surprised half the team wasn’t out with food poisoning.”
Leah laughs so hard she wipes tears from her eyes. Juni watches the two of you like she’s watching a very successful experiment.
“Oni, can you teach me how to bake? Mummy can’t bake or cook,” Juni announces.
Leah’s laugh freezes into an offended gape. You burst into giggles.
“Mummy can’t cook?” you tease, leaning forward, chin propped on your hand.
Leah blushes so deeply it reaches her ears. “I can cook.”
Juni shakes her head solemnly. “No, you can’t, Mummy. It’s okay. I will learn to cook for both of us.”
You nearly fall out of your chair laughing while Leah splutters.
“You little monkey,” Leah growls playfully, standing up to grab Juni and flip her upside down. Juni shrieks as her hair dangles toward the floor. “Say I can cook!”
“Never!” Juni cackles. “Oni, save me!”
You stand and gently pluck Juni from Leah’s arms. Leah lets you without hesitation. You set Juni on her feet, and she immediately hides behind you, clutching your legs like you’re her shield.
“She’s evil,” Juni whispers loudly into your jeans. “I tell you.”
“I’ll show you evil, missy,” Leah says, narrowing her eyes theatrically.
All three of you burst into laughter, yours warm and melodic, Leah’s soft and breathless, Juni’s wild and delighted.
Juni watches the two of you closely and knows her plan is working perfectly.
The next couple of weeks fall into a rhythm that neither you nor Leah acknowledges out loud.
Juni arrives with Mario while Leah is at physio. Juni will “accidentally” leaves something behind. Her bow, her sparkly water bottle, an entire Lego set that took her three days to build, and once, an actual framed picture she drew of you and Leah holding hands under a rainbow. Then Leah and Juni come back after closing, always with flowers, always with some excuse to linger, always staying long after the lights should’ve been off.
Each time, Juni gets her odd dessert combination: sour gummy bears tartelettes, Nutella and marshmallow cinnamon rolls, cookie lasagna (not bad), and cotton candy flavored popcorn (Leah almost barfed).
Tonight, Juni left her boots, she had started playing at some camps Arsenal put on for younger kids, and when they come in, she is vibrating with pride.
“Oni!” Juni cheers as she bursts through the door and barrels into your legs for a hug. “We got you dahlias!”
You press your hand to your heart, smiling as you take them. “Merci, ma chipie. You always bring me the prettiest ones.” You lean down and kiss her forehead. “Your treat is on the table.”
Leah raises an eyebrow as she steps inside, closing the door behind her. “What’s the crazy combo today?”
“You’re going to love this one,” you tease, tugging her into a hug she returns without hesitation. Her face ends up tucked into your neck for a second too long, her breath warm on your collarbone. You pretend you don’t feel your pulse jump.
When you pull away, you lean close and whisper, “Ham and cheese.”
Leah snorts. “That’s not crazy.”
“That’s because she said,” you pitch your voice up in an exaggerated toddler imitation, “‘I need to eat like Mummy now that I’m a footballer.’”
Leah’s face softens instantly. Her whole expression glows.
You nudge her. “Adorable, no?”
“A bit… dangerously so,” Leah murmurs, unable to hide her smile.
You slide into your usual seats. The routine is instinct by now. You sit across from each other, Juni in the middle on her special little chair, kicking her feet.
“How was practice?” you ask, voice dropping into that automatic affection you don’t notice anymore.
Leah steals a bite of Juni’s sandwich.
“Mummy!” Juni whines, scandalized.
Leah shrugs unapologetically. “I told you, it’s training, not practice. And it was good. Light day.”
Juni opens her mouth, lets out a massive burp, and giggles.
“Juniper Kathrine,” Leah warns, rubbing her temples.
“’Sorry,” Juni mumbles, unbothered as she keeps eating.
You raise an eyebrow at Leah. “You know there’s a stereotype with you center backs.”
Leah blinks. “What stereotype?”
“You and my father are basically clones,” you say bluntly. “Single parents, played for Arsenal, captained national teams, and both of you managed to name your daughters after yourselves. That’s suspicious.”
“Clearly.” You jab a finger at her. “My father and I literally have the same name. I just have an an extra E and the accent. And then you gave Juni your middle name but with a K instead of a C. Subtle.”
“Mummy is conceited,” Juni announces proudly.
Leah’s head snaps toward her. “Where did you even learn that word?”
“Kei and G,” Juni singsongs. “They said you’re conceited.”
Leah scoffs. “What do they know?”
You raise a hand. “Obviously enough to clock you.”
Leah’s eyes narrow in playful offense. “Oh, you think you’re funny?”
“Hilarious,” you correct, standing when you notice Juni is done. “Come on, Chipie.”
Juni hops down immediately, following you with pure devotion.
Leah blinks. “Where are you going?”
“Chipie requested baking time,” you say simply, tying Juni’s tiny apron.
When you plop an oversized, dramatic chef’s hat onto Juni’s head, Leah wheezes.
“Where did you get that?”
“My graduation hat,” you say proudly, adjusting it. It droops over Juni’s eyes, making her laugh.
Leah lifts her phone, capturing the moment, smiling so softly you feel it like a hand on your ribs.
“All right,” you clap. “Let’s begin.”
“Chocolate chips!” Juni beams.
Leah’s eyes widen. “You’re making cookies?”
You nod. “What Chipie wants, she gets.”
“Yeah, Mummy,” Juni echoes smugly.
Leah lifts her hands. “My apologies, your highnesses. Continue.”
The kitchen fills with the warm sound of mixing, the hum of French pop, the smell of brown sugar melting.
“Gentle,” you guide, holding Juni’s hand as she cracks an egg. “Voilà. Now add the butter.”
You switch to French automatically, “C’est du sucre… ça c’est la vanille…” and Juni parrots each word back, proud of herself with every syllable. The four year old is determined to learn French so she can talk with you in your first language.
Leah watches from the stool, her face softening with every passing minute.
She doesn’t blink when flour dusts your hair.
She doesn’t move when Juni shrieks with laughter after turning the mixer too high.
She just watches the two of you, like she wants to burn the memory into her brain.
At some point, she realizes—this what she used to imagine home would feel like.
“What do you rate them?” your accented English snaps her out of her head.
Juni munches loudly, thinking hard. “Hmm… a thousand out of ten!”
Her cookie is chaos with marshmallows, Twix, Oreos, pretzels. Obviously, you have a problem saying no to the girl.
“A thousand?” you gasp dramatically. “I must put it on the menu. Chef Juni, will you allow it?”
Juni nods so intensely her hat slips sideways. “Yes! And call it… Chef Chipie’s Princesse Footballer Cookies.”
Leah grins at the name.
“Perfect.” You write it down. “I’ll text my team. Chef Chipie, can you pack the cookies?”
Juni begins shoving cookies into the box, humming loudly.
You step away and tap out a message to your staff.
Behind you, Leah comes close. Close enough you feel her before you hear her.
“Hey,” she says softly. “Thank you.”
You turn. “For what?”
Leah glances at Juni, who is eating another cookie behind your back. Then she meets your eyes.
“For making her this happy. For giving her something to look forward to every week. For…” She exhales, lips curling. “For being you.”
You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. Because she’s looking at you like she means it. Like she’s been meaning it for a while.
“Leah…” you start.
But Juni runs up, tugging on Leah’s jeans, chocolate on her chin.
“Mummy, Oni says I’m a real chef!”
Leah lifts her daughter, kissing her cheek. “You are, bug.”
It was your usual Saturday morning at the farmers market, your favorite ritual of the week. Fresh air plus fresh produce equals fresh inspiration. You moved with practiced ease down the row of stalls, dropping bright yellow lemons into your tote bag with satisfaction. Their scent already had you imagining lemon curd with something tamarind in it.
You were reaching for a bunch of mint when a familiar shriek cracked through the quiet bustle.
“ONI!”
You barely had time to brace yourself before a small body slammed into your legs. You stumbled back, laughing as you caught your balance.
“Bonjour, mon aim-ee!” Juni beams up at you, absolutely butchering the word amie and somehow making it sound like the cutest thing in existence.
“Oh! Bonjour, ma chipie,” you say, crouching down to hug her. She clings to your neck like she hasn’t seen you in years. You take her little hand automatically, scanning the crowd. “Where is your mum? Who are you here with?”
“That would be us,” a warm voice says.
You straighten and find an older woman and man approaching, both smiling like they already know you.
“I’m Amanda, Leah’s mum,” the woman says. “They both talk about you all the time.”
“David,” the man says with a firm handshake. “Leah’s father.”
You smile politely. “Hi! Wonderful to meet you. I’m—”
“She’s my Oni!” Juni declares proudly, hugging your leg like she’s claiming you.
Amanda and David share a knowing look.
Juni had told them her “get Mummy and Oni married” plan. She gives them consistent updates, but the two assumed it was just Juni being Juni. Now, seeing you? They understand why Juni is working so hard on the project.
It takes about thirty seconds of Juni tugging your hand with those deadly puppy eyes before you fall in line and join the Williamson family on their market run. Amanda bites back a laugh every time you fold instantly.
David walks beside you. “I had no idea The Minister of Defense was your father,” he says enthusiastically. “He was a nightmare when Arsenal played Tottenham. An even bigger nightmare when England played France.”
You snort, amused that Leah grew up a Gunner in a Spurs household. You could only imagine the arguments during face offs.
“Oh, here we go,” Amanda sighs. “Enough football talk. I want to hear about your bakery.”
“Oh! It just opened a couple months ago,” you say quickly.
“Fourth location, right?” Amanda adds casually. “And one of them has a star?”
You blink, surprised Leah mentioned all of that.
“Yes,” you admit softly. “Paris was my first. My grandparents live there and I wanted to stay close. Then New York after Paris earned its Michelin. I figured if I can bag New York I can do whatever I wanted. Then Barcelona shortly after New York. Barcelona is the longest place I’ve lived so I was a bit… homesick. And now, I’m conquering London.”
“That’s incredible.” David whistles. “You must be stupidly talented.”
Juni nods aggressively. “She’s magic, Nana,
Grandpa. I’m getting a cookie named after me!”
“Oh?” Amanda raises her eyebrows. “Are you now? You’re practically as famous as your mother.”
“I AM.” Juni places her hands on her hips. “It’s called the Chef Chipie Princess Footballer Cookie!”
Amanda and David glance at you for confirmation.
“It’s true,” you laugh. “Come Monday morning, it will debut to all of London.”
“All. Of. London,” Juni repeats dramatically. A couple of people passing give judging looks at the sheer volume.
Before Amanda can scold her, you crouch and conspiratorially whisper, “Right, Chipie, all of London. But we mustn’t yell. Too many old people here.” You widen your eyes. “It hurts their ears, you know. It gets so sensitive when they are so old.”
Juni giggles behind her hands. “Like Nana and Grandpa?”
“No, no,” you whisper back. “They’re the good ones.”
Juni beams… then brightens even more. “Oni! Will you come to Mummy’s game with us?”
Your stomach drops. “What?”
“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea!” Amanda gasps. “We have an extra ticket. Jacob got sick.”
“I—I’m not sure—”
“Dear, I insist,” Amanda says.
Juni tugs your hand, looking up at you with those damn puppy eyes. “Please oh pleeeeease?”
You sigh, trying to resist the power of the pout. You were doomed from the start.
Which is why an hour later you’re in the Williamson family box at the Emirates, wearing one of your father’s old Arsenal jerseys.
Juni bounces beside you so hard the seats shake. “Oni! LOOK. THERE THEY ARE!”
The players walk out of the tunnel.
“Mummy! Look! THERE’S MUMMY!” Juni screams, waving wildly.
Leah looks up and sees Juni tucked into your side. The both you wave to her with bright smiles. She freezes for a second then her entire face breaks into the most helpless, wide, incandescent smile. Like she couldn’t stop it if she tried.
On the pitch, Mariona nudges Lia. The two have a bet going on when the two of you get together. From the looks of it, Lia’s going to win.
“That’s it,” Lia murmurs smugly. “You owe me dinner.”
Steph and Beth, further down the line, stare.
“When the hell did she smile?” Beth mutters.
“Mate, I didn’t know her face could do that.” Steph replies.
After the match, you stay in the box, holding Juni in your lap while Amanda and David chat with other parents.
“I’m tired, Oni…” Juni mumbles, curling into your chest.
“I know, Chipie,” you murmur, smoothing her hair. “You’ll be home soon.”
“Junebug?” Leah’s voice calls from the doorway.
She’s damp-haired, glowing from the win, cheeks still flushed from adrenaline.
Juni perks up instantly. “MUMMY! YOU WON!”
Leah scoops her up, spinning her before planting a kiss to her head. “Thanks, bug.”
When Leah looks at you, something in her gaze softens even more. She opens one arm and you step forward without thinking. She pulls you into the hug with her and Juni. The little girl burrows deeper, enjoy the warmth she felt.
Amanda sneakily takes a video while David takes a photo.
Leah murmurs near your ear, “I didn’t know you were coming… or that you met my parents.”
“Juni spotted me at the market,” you shrug. “And they insisted.”
Leah smiles softly, still on an adrenaline high, but she looks a little stunned by it.
Amanda gestures that they’re leaving, and you all head out. Juni insists on holding both your hands, swinging between you and Leah.
“I’m glad you came,” Leah says quietly.
“Me too,” you admit.
“Me three,” Juni adds proudly.
Out of nowhere— “Oni!” someone yells behind you. Before you can turn, arms wrap around you and lift you off the ground.
“Laia!” you laugh breathlessly.
“Et trobava a faltar.” She mumbles. “Fa temps que no et veig, com estàs?” [I missed you. I haven’t seen you in a while, how have you been?”]
“He estat bé, he estat bé,” you reply, laughing. “Posa’m!” [I’ve been fine, I’ve been fine. Put me down!]
Laia finally sets you down just as Mariona appears, pulling you into a quick, affectionate hug and a kiss to your crown. “Vaig veure on estaves assegut, pel camí.” [I saw where you were sitting, by the way.]
Your cheeks burn. “Va ser d’última hora i la Juni em volia aquí.” [It was last minute and Juni wanted me here.]
Leah blinks. “Was that Catalan? You speak Catalan?”
You shrug. “I lived in Catalonia for ten years off and on.”
Before she can respond, you three get another interruption.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” a northern accent cuts in. You meet Beth Mead’s smirk and Steph’s welcoming smile.
“Oh piss off,” Leah groans. “We’re leaving.”
“Mummy,” Juni scolds, “that’s not nice.”
“Yeah, Leah,” Beth mocks sweetly. “Not nice.”
Steph waves, also nosy. “We just want to meet your friend.”
Juni takes control. “Beth, Stephy, this is my Oni!”
You reach out and shake their hands. “Nice to meet you both.”
“That’s enough,” Leah mutters, dragging you away.
“She’s so rude,” Beth stage whispers.
Leah rolls her eyes so hard you snort. “Where’s your car?” she asks you once you’re out of earshot.
“Oh—your parents brought me. I was going to take the bus.”
Leah stops in her tracks. “Absolutely not. I’ll drive you.”
“Leah, no, I can just—”
“No.” Her tone is final. “I insist. Juni insists. Get in.”
The ride is quiet only because Juni is asleep, but you and Leah talk the entire time. Albeit, softly like you’re sharing secrets, only so the child didn’t stir.
The car ride also consists of you two playing music. You introduce her to French rap and she introduces you to whatever chaotic mix she listens to. You judge her taste and she laughs at you for judging.
By the time she pulls into your apartment complex, neither of you wants the night to end.
Leah walks you to your door, shifting shyly, hands in her pockets. “Okay, I’m not the best at this but…” she exhales, trying again. “I like you. A lot. And I’d like to take you out. This Saturday? If you want?”
You don’t hesitate and a smile blooms across your face. “I would love to, Leah.”
Leah breaks into the softest, purest grin you’ve ever seen. And if Juni weren’t asleep in her car seat, you swear she’d be cheering.
“Oh fuck me,” Leah mutters, pacing the living room with one shoe on and one shoe in her hand. Her first babysitter canceled earlier in the week, the second canceled yesterday, and now the third one canceled exactly an hour before she’s supposed to pick you up.
Juni sits on the sofa, legs swinging, watching her mother unravel.
“Mummy,” she says softly, “you said a bad word.”
“I know, baby,” Leah groans, raking a hand through her hair. “Mummy’s… frustrated.”
Juni nods sagely like a tiny CEO. “Call Oni.”
Right. Leah grabs her phone immediately. You answer in three seconds, your voice warm enough to melt metal.
“Leah?” your voice echoes through the speaker, soft and bright, instantly making Leah’s breath hitch. “What’s up?”
“Um,” Leah exhales, squeezing her eyes shut, “Juni’s sitter just canceled on me… again. I’m so sorry.”
You giggle and Leah swears her heart skips a beat. “It’s no problem. Just bring her along.”
“It’s an upscale restaurant,” Leah argues, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m not even sure they allow kids.”
“Doesn’t matter,” you say easily. “I know the owner and I’ll call her after this. Just bring her. It will be fun.”
You say it so gently, so naturally, that Leah has to blink rapidly to keep her eyes from glossing over.
“She’ll be excited,” she manages. “And… thank you.”
“Leah, it’s not anything really,” you say. “I can’t wait. See you soon.”
You hang up and Leah stares at her phone like she’s just been blessed by a deity.
“Juni?” she breathes. “What dress do you want to wear, baby?”
Juni gasps dramatically. “The pink one! The sparkly one!”
“Of course it’s the sparkly one,” Leah mutters with a smile.
Within the hour, Leah manages to get Juni dressed in the expensive designer dress she got from a campaign and get out the door.
And then, there you are. Standing outside your apartment building, coat draped elegantly, hair styled perfectly, looking like the reason half of London goes to that restaurant in the first place.
Leah’s breath catches. “You look—wow.”
Juni elbows her mother. “Say pretty, Mummy.”
“You look pretty,” Leah corrects, cheeks pink. “Very… very pretty.”
You grin. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Williamson.”
Juni throws her hands up. “Let’s go to dinner!”
The restaurant was beautiful, with ambient lighting and live jazz softly playing.
“Table for Williamson?” Leah tells the hostess when you arrive.
You stand slightly behind her, greeting the familiar hostess with a smile as you hold Juni’s hand.
The hostess smiles back warmly. “Right this way.”
She leads the three of you to a quiet corner of the restaurant near the window overlooking the Thames River. The city lights reflect on the water in patches of gold and silver, romantic enough to make Leah swallow hard.
The hostess sets the menus down, then slips a couple of coloring sheets and crayons to Juni. She winks at you before walking away.
Leah stares at you, scandalized. “You did that?”
You shrug and sip your complimentary wine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You are something else.” Leah leans closer, voice low, eyes lingering on your lips longer than she should. “I don’t know what, exactly. But something.”
Your cheeks warm. “Dangerous thing to tell me on a first date, Leah.”
Juni, meanwhile, is on her absolute best behavior. Too good, actually…it’s suspicious.
“More water, Oni?” she offers in the poshest British accent possible.
“Oh please, Miss Chipie,” you reply, playing along.
You and Leah assume Juni is going to pour imaginary water. But instead the four-year-old raises her tiny hand and waves down the waitress.
“Excuse me?” Juni calls sweetly. “Can my Oni get more water, please?”
The waitress giggles, pours water in your glass.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Juni says primly.
“My pleasure, Miss,” the waitress smiles.
Leah’s jaw drops. “How cheeky,” she mutters, poking her daughter’s cheeks.
Juni giggles. “I’m fancy.”
“You’re four,” Leah deadpans.
“And fancy,” Juni insists.
Leah looks back at you, something softens in her chest.
You’re watching mother and daughter with the fondest expression, like you’ve been folded into this moment without even trying.
Your finger grazes your wine glass. Leah watches it, eyes tracing the movement, then your wrist, then your neckline. When she looks up, you’re already watching her.
“So…” you begin softly. “You were really going to cancel the date?”
Leah shifts, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to… but I didn’t want Juni to ruin it.”
“Juni doesn’t ruin anything,” you say. “She makes everything sweeter.”
Leah’s eyes widen when she realizes you’re being a hundred percent serious.
You continue, softer, “Besides… I wasn’t going to let you cancel on me.”
Leah swallows. “I didn’t want to,” she admits. “Honestly? I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
“Me too,” you confess.
Your foot brushes hers under the table, accidentally at first but you let it linger making Leah’s breath catches.
“Careful,” she murmurs. “I might fall for you faster than I planned.”
You tilt your head, dangerously charming.
“Who says I don’t want that?”
Halfway through dinner, Juni reaches for your hand while coloring. You lace your fingers with hers naturally.
“She’s obsessed with you,” Leah says, smiling. “Completely.”
You glance at her. “I wonder where she gets it from.”
Leah looks down at her plate, trying to hide her blush. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“And yet I keep doing it,” you tease.
Juni looks up innocently. “Are you flirting again?”
Leah chokes. You bite your lip to keep from laughing.
“Who keeps teaching you these things?” Leah asks her daughter.
“Kyra and Lessi told me when two people like each other, they flirt. Like Super Mario and Lia,” Juni explains without lifter her head from her paper.
You let out a bubble of laughter at Leah’s exasperated expression.
“I need to monitor who you talk to.”
After dessert, Juni yawns so dramatically the whole restaurant could hear her.
“Time for bed, Junebug,” Leah says.
“Noooooo,” Juni says tiredly, collapsing onto you instead of her mum. She curls into your side like it was first nature to her.
Leah watches, heart softening and breaking at the same time.
“You’re good with her,” she says quietly.
You lift Juni into your lap. “She makes it easy.”
The bill comes and Leah reaches for it but you place your hand over hers. “I’m paying.”
“No, no—this is our date,” Leah protests. “I asked you out.”
“And I suggested this place,” you remind her. “So let me take care of it. Do you get actually sick at the thought of me paying? Cause you did this last time at the grocery store…”
Leah goes still with your hand is still on hers.
“Okay,” she whispers. “You can pay…this time.”
You smile. “I like when you listen.”
Leah tries not to show the full body shiver that gives her but fails as a wicked smirk appears on your face.
Outside, the air is cool and smells faintly of riverwater and jasmine. Juni sleeps in Leah’s arms, one hand still loosely curled around your sleeve. You walk beside them, close enough your coat brushes Leah’s arm. At your apartment door, Leah pauses as you both linger.
“Can I see you again?” Leah asks quietly, voice low, hopeful, almost shy.
You smile, slow and warm. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Leah exhales like she’s been underwater for a week. “Good,” she whispers. “Good.”
She starts to turn when you gently touch her wrist, light but intentional. “Leah.”
You lean in, not enough to kiss, but close enough she forgets how breathing works.
“I had a wonderful time,” you say.
Leah smiles so softly it could break something inside you. “Me too.”
She walks away, carrying Juni, but she keeps looking back over her shoulder. And for the rest of the night, Leah just cannot stop smiling like an idiot.
“Oni!” Juni breaks into a full sprint across the small school courtyard straight into your awaiting arms.
You barely have time to brace yourself before she jumps, wrapping her arms around your neck. You laugh, lifting her easily.
“Hi, Chipie,” you greet, peppering her cheek with a quick kiss. “You ready to go?”
“Always,” she beams.
Many things have changed in the span of two weeks. You spend more time with Juni and Leah than with anyone else. Your lives have folded into each other with surprising ease.
Instead of Mariona picking Juni up from Reception while Leah is at the physio’s, you get her and bring her straight to the bakery. Juni’s joy brings a wave of light to your staff and customers. She drew a picture last week of you, Leah, Bunny, and herself standing in front of the bakery. You framed it right on the main wall and customers now point at it daily, asking who the tiny footballer artist is.
And the Chef Chipie Princess Footballer Cookies are such a hit that your staff jokes you need to pay Juni royalties.
Leah’s physio ends around the same time the bakery closes, so she always rushes over with a small bouquet from the flower shop next door. After some hours of you testing recipes, Leah distracting you, Juni dancing around the kitchen, the three of you leave together like a tiny found family. It feels normal, almost too normal. It felt comfortable in a way that scares you, because it feels like something you have known for years and not just two weeks.
So when you pick Juni up from her after school football club today, you expect nothing out of the ordinary.
“Say bye to your friends, Chipie,” you tell her, waving to her teacher.
“Bye!” Juni shouts. You begin the ten minute walk toward the bakery.
“How was your day?” you ask as Juni methodically skips every single crack on the pavement like touching one will summon immediate doom.
“It was good! We had music class. And at recess I played Bakery with my friends and I was like you.”
“Like me?” you laugh.
“Yep. And everyone was mad because I made the best mud pie.”
You cringe. “Juni. Please tell me you washed your hands.”
“Teacher made me,” Juni nods solemnly as if she has suffered greatly.
You shake your head fondly. Silence falls between you, warm and comfortable. The bakery storefront comes into view when Juni suddenly speaks again.
“Do you think Mummy will let me get a puppy?”
You bark a laugh. “Where did that come from?”
“Sophie E. and Sophie B. have dogs. And lots and lots of people have pets. But we have none.” Juni pouts. “Maybe I will ask for a bunny. A little fluffy bunny.”
You open the bakery door and hold it for her. “You know what? I would really, really love to see that.”
You look around. The bakery is quiet with only a few customers linger, finishing their pastries. The warm smell of vanilla and caramel fills the air.
“Have a great day!” Juni says brightly to a customer leaving.
“You too, Juni,” the customer replies.
You shake your head with a smile and start helping your staff with closing tasks, checking on Juni periodically. She is sitting at the front window, drawing with intense focus.
“You all good there, Chipie?” you ask, waving goodbye to the last staff member.
Juni quickly hides her paper behind her back. “Yep. All good.”
You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “Mhm. If you say so.” You wipe down the counter, still watching her with narrowed eyes. She gives an exaggerated innocent smile.
You let it go. “I was thinking pasta for dinner today. Any ideas?”
“I want meatballs,” Juni says decisively.
You shrug. “Spaghetti and meatballs it is.”
You head to the back to gather your bag. The door chimes a moment later, followed by Leah’s voice. “Hi. Sorry I am late. I got held up.”
There is the sound of hushed whispers from the front. You approach slowly. “What are you two whispering about?” you ask.
“Nothing,” they say in unison much too fast.
You narrow your eyes. “Uh huh.”
You turn your back to lock the door. “So, Juni and I decided on spaghetti and meatballs for dinner so we might have to stop at the store if you do not have the…”
You turn around and freeze. Juni stands holding a bouquet of pink tulips almost as tall as she is, and the drawing she made earlier now clearly visible. It reads “Mummy + Oni” in giant crayon letters with a wobbly heart drawn around the two stick figures.
Your lips part wordlessly. “What is going on?”
Before you can fully process, Leah steps forward and pulls out a much larger bouquet made of white roses and sea lavender, the two flowers you love most. You gasp softly.
Leah’s cheeks are flushed pink. She is nervous. Vulnerable in a way you have never seen. “Obviously I am not as cute as her when I ask this,” she says quietly. “But will you be mine?”
Your breath catches. Your heart pounds so loudly you feel it in your throat. You do not even hear what comes out of your mouth. It is something like yes or maybe just a small broken sound of joy, but Leah understands.
You throw yourself into her arms. Leah catches you instantly, burying her face in your neck. Her hands slide to your waist, tugging you closer as you pull her down into a kiss. It is slow at first, surprised and sweet, then deeper as the truth sinks in. She is yours. You are hers.
“Mummy and Oni,” Juni cheers triumphantly as she wraps her arms around both your legs. “I am so happy!”
You laugh against Leah’s shoulder before pulling away slightly to pick Juni up. “Me too, Chipie. Me too.”
Leah kisses your forehead gently. “Come on,” she whispers. “Let’s go home.”
my take on a 3 times you and leah pretend to be casual and the one time you aren’t. i love this fic. wholesome and cutie and everything in between. it’s rushed and messy and unedited as always but i love anyways
You haven’t lost an Australian open in four years. Every single year you’ve competed you have won on your home stomping ground.
You are Australia’s crown opal, saving grace since Ash Barty had taken the nation's breath. You do not lose the open, it’s not a possibility, it does not happen.
Yet you’re lying under the covers of your own bed, sobbing, not that you’ll acknowledge it, because you have lost on your own nation's soil for the first time ever.
Undoubtedly you’ve been on a downhill as of late, it was only so long, really. But even at your lowest point over the past few years it's always been enough, your worst has still been everyone else's best.
Not today though.
Today you’d played like a bright eyed junior playing against her first rated player, bright eyed and naive to a fault. You’d come up to the net on almost every rally aimlessly attempting a volley every time. You’d chased the ball instead of commanding it, you’d played afraid and stupid.
After almost every game you’re critical, but you can’t ever say you’ve felt unable to recognise the person who played on the court.
The news headline already echoes through your head ‘Washed up or drunk on success?’ or if the media really wants to ruin you ‘Choked - Australia’s golden girl blows it all’. It won’t be anything you haven’t heard before, even when you win there’s always something or another to be said but at least when you win you know it's simply out of spite.
You are so much better than this, you’re the first tennis player since 1988 to win a calendar-year grand slam, you are the best.
Best evidently is not enough though.
After the final point you’d stayed strong, in a sport full of bad sports and unsportsmanlike behaviour you refused to fold, you’d hugged and celebrated your opponent and taken every photo before getting back to the locker rooms.
Even then you’d stayed strong, finishing your cool down and signing some t-shirts and meeting some ball kids before finally being taken back to your hotel room.
You hadn’t stopped crying since the door had locked behind you.
Your agent has come knocking, opponents, friends, trainers. You’ve overheard the murmurs ‘She just needs time - poor thing’ ‘She wasn’t ready for that’ ‘Were her parents here? Would she want to see them?’ ‘Just leave her be, she’ll be back tomorrow’.
The pity always stings the most, because whilst you’d love to refute it you wallow in it. You crave pity. It only validates you that this event is as bewildering to you as everybody else.
Unsurprisingly everyone leaves your door, not more than one door knock before it’s left deserted. You’re used to alone, you revel in it. There is nothing you crave more than the peaceful silence of your own presence. In this moment though you hate it, you hate yourself and you hate your self made isolation but you also have no intention of seeking anyone in your current state.
You’re stuck in the prison you’ve created and now thrown away the key to.
Until the door creaks open.
There are very few people who have a key to your room, your agent, trainer and the hotel staff. You bite down on the sheet and stop breathing, hoping whichever of the three it is that they assume you’re asleep and fuck off. The last thing you want to do is talk about tennis right now, you are so fed up with tennis.
“Baby?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You play dead because right now you seriously wish you were dead.
“I know you’re awake, you never sleep on your front. You say it gives you crease marks.”
Casual. It was the word used to refer to your relationship. Or the agreement that had been come to in the early morning hours of a random sunday.
Casual as in living in each other's houses whenever the both of you were in town. Casual in waking up at 2am to watch the other compete. Casual in every way that was not casual.
It’s easier that way or at least that’s what you tell yourself, it’s easier to be casual when something inevitably goes wrong.
Even when you kind of wish you could hold Leah’s hand in public without it being on the front page of a tabloid, even when you’d love to go to any arsenal game and sit in the family and friends section, especially when you wanted to love the woman you thought about constantly loudly without caring about anyone else.
You feel a hand fall onto the corner of the duvet, and slowly peel it back. Your face is still pressed into the mattress, which is now damp from your own tears.
“Baby.”
You don’t know why her voice flips you, but as soon as the syllables leave her mouth you jump from the bed straight into her arms, your head tucked straight into her neck.
You don’t comprehend it but you’re sobbing, soaking Leah’s top and throat.
“Hey-Hey it’s okay, it’s okay honey.”
It is anything but okay. The only thing that you can think of is your stupid fucking failure, your failure that is going to follow you around now for the rest of your life, that’s going to haunt any person whose ever touched your career, you will now die with this failure.
You were so fucking stupid, fucking useless. You’ve just ruined your whole year with one stupid game.
“Breathe baby, breathe, it’s okay, you’re okay.”
You’ve never cried in front of Leah, the last time you’d cried in front of anyone was when you’d dislocated your knee and torn your ACL at the juniors american open and you’d sworn from that day onwards you would never cry in front of anybody else.
Really casual.
Crying for you can be compared to an out of body experience, because it’s only in the aftermath that you can acknowledge that it’s occurred, not when it’s currently happening. Like now.
Leah tries to pry your head from her neck but you keep it buried, it’s bad enough you’re crying but to let her see you like this would be the ultimate dagger in your heart.
“I didn’t win.”
There is an air of disbelief in your words that you detest, but it’s honest, you didn’t lose because of an injury, illness, a better opponent or real reason, you simply lost. That hasn’t happened to you like this since you’ve stepped foot in the circuit. Rybakina was good, undoubtedly, but you were without a doubt the better player, yet you’d lost.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Except, you think, it does. At the grand age of twenty three you’ve apparently peaked and are on the decline.
“I didn’t win.”
At this point you wish you were a loser, or that losing was a part of you in some way or another, it would make this significantly easier.
“No, you didn’t.”
Your whole world crashes down around you, you swear you can feel the walls caving in and you don’t know what to do, you’re lost in a sea and you’ve forgotten how to swim.
Leah is your liferaft, holding you afloat as the waves keep rolling.
“I needed to win.”
It’s the truth, it’s what you deduce yourself to. You are a winner, it’s in your blood, it flows through you. You’re not accustomed to losing, you’ve never let yourself become comfortable with losing, second place is simply the first to lose, you’d breathed the words from the first time you’d competed on a clay court and lost, your father berating you for daring to embarrass him at the great age of 7.
“I know.”
It’s the words of a competitor, a person who has won plenty but has felt the crushing feeling of losing something far more important than the win. You feel like you’ve lost a part of yourself really, you’ve lost the part of yourself that you’ve always known, a part that you thought was like a 79th organ that’s now been ripped from your chest.
“But it doesn’t matter, even though it feels like everything. I promise you that in a year's time when you lift that trophy again this is going to be nothing more than a bump in the road. This is nothing in the scheme of your career, do you think anybody is ever going to remember the one game you lost? All anyone will ever remember is the thousands of games you won baby.”
Subconsciously you know she’s right, you couldn’t tell her any of the grand slams which Serena Williams lost, but it doesn’t make this hurt any less.
“I want to go home.”
You want to lie in your bed for at least a week and lock all of your rackets and balls in some cupboard to never be seen again.
“You have media tomorrow, you were supposed to see your parents the day after.”
You don’t have to verbalise to Leah that your parents interest in you will be nonexistent now that you’ve lost, you’re only ever important to them if there is a paycheck and trophy in hand.
“Rybakina can do my stupid media.”
Leah pulls back for a second, giving you a hint of a scowl.
“Don’t do that - Don’t be cynical. Regardless of how you feel, there is a country of people who love you even if you lose and today Rybakina deserved to win and she will be celebrated but you deserve to be celebrated as well.”
You don’t know exactly when Leah became so in tune with your feelings and thoughts but you feel the deep sense of knowing from her.
“I don’t want to see my parents.”
Your relationship is rocky on a good day, but right now you really can’t be bothered being a punching bag for them.
“Media and then the first flight home.”
As much as you detest the idea of having to wear a dress and a full face tomorrow and fake smile through every interview it’s a struggle you’re willing to endure.
“You’ll fly home with me?”
Leah’s been struggling with a hamstring issue so she’d missed this international window and been able to watch your last few matches, you know that she’ll be needed back at some stage though. You selfishly hope it’s no time soon, even though football is what Leah loves most.
“I’d never turn down a private flight home.”
You feel some of the tension ooze from your body, at least for now there is someone to look out for you.
Leah must feel it, the way your muscles relax for the first time and you melt into her.
“No, no sleeping yet. You need a shower and at least some kind of stretching or massage.”
You groan profusely. Suddenly very much questioning whether she hates you.
“Nope, you will thank me for it tomorrow. Shower.”
Leah gives you a push but you don’t move, you tell yourself that you can’t.
Then she lifts you.
“Leah. Stop it. Put me down.”
Your protests fall on deaf ears as she carries you all the way to the bathroom, not letting go until you’re set down on the sink countertop.
“You can be as sorry for yourself as you like but that doesn’t mean you are allowed to neglect basic care for yourself. You are going to shower, you are going to eat some dinner and I’m going to help you stretch out a bit because you played tennis for three hours and then we’re going to get into our pjs and get some good sleep before you have to face the world tomorrow, understood?”
Leah tugs at the hem of your shorts in the most unsexual way possible, getting them off clinically before reaching for the hem of your sweat soaked top and sports bra.
You’d never even bothered to get changed, just packed up your things and come straight to the hotel.
Once you were completely undressed Leah reached into the shower and turned it on, playing with the temperature until it was just right. She then undressed herself and pulled you up from the counter, walking the both of you into the shower together.
She made it a fairly quick process, washing your body from head to toe before quickly doing her own, then washing and scrubbing your hair, taking care to massage your scalp just the way you liked. You stayed limp, leant against her and the tile wall, you would have loved to have reciprocated in some way but you physically had absolutely no strength.
Somewhere between the massage of your scalp and the low massage down your shoulders you start crying again, except this time you feel it, not in the out of body way like before. You feel every sob deep in your core, every single tear that leaves your eyes.
Leah pretends that the tears are spray from the shower and that she can’t hear you over the fan but every single time a cry comes from your mouth she wants to hug you to her chest and kiss every part of your body. But she can’t. She needs to stay strong, to keep you together and functioning until you’re back home and can stay in bed for three weeks and get over this.
She doesn’t know if it is possible for you to get over this though, she’s seen you with setbacks, minor injuries and little bumps in the road but this is not that. She’s never had to hold you together, you’ve always managed to keep yourself as one.
She works her way back down your body, rubbing out the tension and soreness that comes from three hours of back and forth running and then wraps up by bringing you into her arms, rocking the two of you back and forth for a few minutes, you think if she could freeze the moment in time she would, cancel out all the outside noise and chatter and just keep the two of you like this.
But that wouldn’t be very casual.
All good things come to an end and the hot water gets shut off, contrasted with the deep chill that sets in as soon as the air of your airconned room fans across your skin.
Before your body has time to shiver Leah has a towel wrapped around your torso and has your hair wrapped around your head, sitting securely.
She dries herself off haphazardly and then works on drying you before applying your body oil and moisturiser with the practice of a woman who knows exactly how you like it.
You try to ignore the level of self sacrifice she is willing to give in order to keep you from feeling any semblance of uncomfortability. Especially as she dresses you completely, down to socks because she knows your feet get cold in your sleep, and tucks you into bed before even bothering to attend to her own shiver that's settled in.
Leah dresses impossibly fast, throwing on whatever t-shirt and shorts she can find before clambering into bed next to you, not giving you any choice but to be pulled directly to her chest.
She presses a few kisses to your forehead, your head tucked into her shoulder and neck.
“Go to sleep baby, it’ll all be better in the morning.”
So fucking casual.
Your next day is hell walking, from the minute your eyes open until you step onto the charter plane. Every interview, photo and interaction is comparable to pulling your own teeth out one by one. But Leah stands to the side throughout it all, never too close but never too far. The perfect ‘friend’, a supportive rock.
It isn’t until you’re both seated in the plane that you consider the gravity of it all, that truly, Leah isn’t just a fling at all. You don’t know how or why or what, you know you’re in a bad state already with the loss and could be going crazy but even with the loss, which should be the thing you are thinking about most, you can’t get the woman sitting across from you off your mind.
You think that if Leah hadn't been here, you wouldn’t have done any of it at all, you would have done what you’d done for the past few years and shut down and dug yourself into a hole for months and have suffered in silence, but it doesn’t feel that way anymore.
It’s far too much though, too much to consider, you don’t have time for more, you’re pretty sure you don’t want more. It’s just the residual pain that is putting you into an altered state of mind.
Or maybe not.
Since the beginning of your clandestine dalliance you’ve kept your number of football games observed limited to a number that could be counted on one hand.
The Euro’s final, the champions league final and a random Arsenal game that you’d watched in the middle of the night after a game that you just couldn’t manage to sleep after.
You’d decided you weren’t going to make the football thing a thing, every time Leah brought it up you feigned disinterest.
That’s why this feels so stupid.
You aren’t even quite sure why you’d accepted her offer this time, it happened at every home game, she’d offer you a ticket, multiple tickets in fact for a friend or companion (not that you had any), and like clockwork you would always turn it down.
Except for this time.
You’re two weeks off your loss in Australia, and Leah has recovered enough from her injury to be on the teamlist, a substitute you’re told, and you’re sitting in the freezing cold winter wind tucked up in some kind of family box feeling a little bit like a secret.
You’re particularly feeling a bit out of place considering that Leah had neglected to mention the part where the box she had you seated in was full of her family who seem just as lost as you are to your presence.
You’re wearing her champions league final winning jersey, tucked under a coat and jumper, but it’s there nonetheless.
It’s unavoidable to feel the multiple eyes of Leah’s closest family all over you, tucked in one of the corner seats of the intimate box, trying to avoid any and all eye contact.
This is why you keep things strictly separate, it all becomes messy far too quickly.
“Y’know I’ve been egging Leah on to get you down here for a game for months.”
It’s the voice of an older woman who forces your eyes up from the field, you recognise her face but you’re embarrassed and both glad you can’t pin it quite down.
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The woman just laughs, in a way that makes you feel even more stupid, because the both of you swore up and down you wouldn’t tell a soul about your… situation, and yet this woman seems to know everything.
“I mean her trip to the open really was the nail in the coffin, I mean the girl started asking me about tennis, and darling I promise you I could hardly tell which lines are for what.”
You don’t really know what to say at all.
“Ma’am, I-.”
The woman smiles, she has the same smile/frown lines that adorn Leah’s face and happen to be your most favourite feature of hers.
“Bernie, please, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I’m glad you came, Leah won’t say it but this means a lot to her. Now, I won’t pester you, but you want me to stay close to keep the sharks from closing in, because they might not have worked it out yet but they will eventually and trust me that’ll be too much for your first time. So let an old woman keep you company, alright?”
You’re ever more at a loss for words, so you just nod, smiling a little bit and going back to looking down at the pitch.
You don’t say anything until the game begins and you realise how little you truly know about football.
“I might need you to explain some things to me, Miss Bernie, if that’s alright.”
Something sparks inside the woman, and before you know it she’s running you through everything that is happening on the field in enough detail that you’re learning but not so much that you’re confused. It’s exactly what you need and makes you feel so much more in place.
Leah never ends up needing to go on, Arsenal, or the gunners as Bernie says are ahead three goals to none at the half break and by the end of the game have soundly won four to nil.
When you get up at the whistle Bernie pushes you back down into your seat.
“Nonsense, you need to stick around until Leah comes up.”
You don’t really understand the whole football thing, but you can’t quite figure out if Leah will be happy or not to see you having integrated yourself amongst her family.
You re-seat yourself though, unable to deny the woman who has undeniably taken you under her wing for the day in a way that you are unable to repay.
She talks tennis with you for a bit, asking polite questions in an attempt to make you feel more comfortable and it does, but it also makes you think about tennis which you’ve been trying to do very little of for the last few weeks.
You’re saved from the slightly awkward conversation though when Leah enters the suite, going around and giving everyone a hug before her eyes land on you and…
“Gran!”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It all clicks, the lock screen photo, the many instagram pictures, the bloody cadbury ad. You’ve just spent the last few hours talking to Leah’s very beloved grandmother, and you’ve had absolutely zero idea.
She embraces the women beside you before giving you a lopsided, slightly goofy, grin.
“I was just becoming acquainted with your little tennis player, far too humble she is, trying to tell me that all those grand slams aren’t a big deal.”
You blush, because to you they don’t feel like a big deal, or you don’t want them to be a big deal.
“My little tennis player likes to do that.”
She focuses her attention on you, a silent question knitted between her eyebrows saying ‘Are you okay?’, you smile at her as if to say ‘I can hold my own woman’.
“Bernie here was just telling me everything and anything I might need to know about football, I think I need to do my homework a bit better.”
Leah smiles, bright and big in a way you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen her do in front of her, it makes you feel warm, knowing that you’ve hit a part of her that she’s been itching to share.
“Nonsense, she was brilliant, picked it up like a real natural. I’ll be happy to have her here next week, when she sees a proper North London Derby there will be no turning back.”
You have absolutely no understanding of what that means but you smile nonetheless.
“Now Nan, she’s a busy wo-.”
You cut her off, because you don’t like to be boxed in by other people, but also because you want to.
“Send me the details and I’ll be here Bernie, although hopefully next time a certain somebody will actually step foot on the pitch.”
Leah curls an eyebrow as if to say ‘Wow’ and you simply smile, it’s much easier than beginning to consider exactly what you’re getting yourself into.
Then, without any prompt Leah wraps her arm around your shoulder and presses a kiss to your forehead in the most casual way that makes you feel slightly sick.
“I suppose I can hunt out a spare ticket for my favourite little tennis player.”
As the rest of her family looks on and Bernie looks at you, absolutely gleaming, you think of exactly how casual it all is.
It doesn’t hit the precipice for another few weeks.
You go to matches, you practically live at Leah’s apartment and nothing is ever said about it.
It’s the normal, the weird normal that neither of you ever comments about.
Until you get hurt.
It’s a fairly light training day for you, you’re hitting balls back and forth to your coach when you dive for a ball and completely over estimate until both your feet have left the ground and you’re skidding directly onto your head and shoulder.
You go black for the first little bit, before you become groggy, dazed at the feeling of your head being pressed to hard court.
Then the pain sets in, and the hands all over you, firstly asking if your neck is sore and if you can move all of your extremities.
Eventually when your c-spine is cleared you are rolled over, and one look at your physios face tells you that you don’t want to look at your shoulder.
From then it’s a series of phone calls, an ambulance ride, x-rays, MRIs and ultrasounds.
The whole time you stay silent, mentally tossing up exactly what it all is going to mean for your year.
After a few hours in the hospital you’re told that you’ve done the trifecta of injuries, a dislocated shoulder, broken clavicle and moderate grade concussion.
Your shoulder is reset fairly quickly, and after further assessment you’re assured that no ligaments have been damaged but your right arm and collarbone are well and truly out of commission for the next few months.
You don’t have anyone else to call but Leah.
“Hey babe, how are you doing? I’m just coming home now, I picked up Thai for dinner.”
You try to ignore how the simple domesticity makes your heart warm and fuzzy.
“I need you to come and pick me up.”
The line goes silent for a few seconds.
“Sure, from where?”
It’s a fairly abnormal request, one you’ve never asked Leah but she seems completely unfazed.
“The hospital, I’ll send you the address.”
You’re exhausted, and really don’t feel like explaining any further.
“The hospital?”
The anxiety that jumps in her voice makes you feel even more nauseous, and you’d already vomited your whole stomach contents in the ambulance.
“Yeah, I’m getting my agent to send you the address, text me when you’re out front and I’ll come down.”
You hang up before she can say anything.
A text never comes, although you half expect that.
Instead, you get Leah barreling into your hospital room, completely dishevelled and looking like she’s broken at least five laws to get to where she is.
You look pathetic, far more injured than how you truly feel.
You’ve got stupid bandages all over your forehead and hairline to cover the stupid marks you’d made from skidding face first again the court. Your hair must be all over the place, your right arm is in a sling and completely immobilised and you hypothesise that you’re probably pale from not being able to eat for hours.
“What the fuck happened?”
When she speaks she’s talking to your coach and physio, not you.
“I’m fine, Leah, I just want to go home.”
Her eyes don’t even move to you.
“She has a medial clavicle fracture, a moderate concussion and a relocated shoulder. They had to give her a mild sedative for the relocation, she’s coming off of it fine. She’s got an appointment with the specialist first thing tomorrow morning to talk about treatment options.”
Leah’s eyebrows shoot to her forehead, now looking at you in accusation.
“Why didn’t you call me earlier? My god.”
You want to argue that you didn’t need her, that you were completely fine. But it would all be a lie, from the moment you’d woken up dazed and confused the only person you’d wanted was Leah. Through all the pain and fear the only person whose hand you’d wanted to hold was hers. The only person you’d wanted hugging you and telling you everything would be fine was Leah.
“The press release will go out tomorrow, she’ll likely miss the French of course but hopefully she should be back enough to play a round or two at Wimbledon."
Leah’s eyes are focused solely on yours, and she must see the plea, the plea to just get you out of the stupid room.
“I-C’mon let’s go home.”
Leah hovers beside you the whole walk out to her car, making you walk at a snail's pace.
It isn’t until the doors of her car close that you start crying. Her immediate reaction is to ask if you’re in any pain, which is logical, but of course you aren’t.
“The French was supposed to be my stupid fucking comeback to prove everybody that they were wrong and now I’ve got to sit on my arse and watch it all happening, watch stupid Swiatek win.”
Leah laughs, hard and heaved, in a way that makes you feel uncomfortable.
A silence lingers for a few seconds afterwards.
“Babe, you aren’t even a clay player, you hate the clay, you hate Roland Garros, and Iga is one of your best friends.”
Her hand comes down on your thigh, soft and comforting and you detest it because it’s everything you want and everything you shouldn’t have, you shouldn’t be taking this.
“Shut up.” You slap her hand away with your good hand, you would push away further but you physically can’t.
The car stays pleasantly quiet for most of the ride, although a bit of confusion strikes you when you realise about half way through the trip that Leah is driving back to your house, and not her own apartment.
A feeling settles in your stomach, when you realise that Leah is driving you to your own house, your house that she never stays at because you’ve always insisted that she’s not welcome or made a joke about her mattress being far more comfortable than yours.
Point being, Leah has never slept over at yours.
And despite your immediate cry when you’d sat down lasting about two minutes, you feel a new wave of tears start to pile up when the feeling sets over you that you’re going to be spending the night alone.
It’s understandable, Leah has training, Leah has a life, Leah is not made to orbit you. You are not the sun. The two of you are just planets, going around and around each other but never coming close enough for anything major.
When she pulls up in your driveway you hold it all in, gulping and remembering to breathe despite the lump that’s obstructing your airway.
But then Leah leaps out of the car, rushing to your door before you can even begin to open it, and helping you up before walking you to your doorway, and then into your townhouse.
She leads you upstairs, very carefully, into your bedroom and helps you change from your training shorts into a pair of sweatpants. The both of you decide that your upper body is far too hard and a problem for tomorrow.
You also completely disregard all skin care, teeth brushing and showering in favour of very carefully being helped into your bed, Leah steadying you on your left side.
It’s a few minutes before you say anything of substance.
“I’m really glad you were here today.”
Leah presses a kiss to your bandaged forehead, and although you can’t see her face you can sense the small smile.
“Of course I was here, I’m always going to be here.”
In the darkness and under the shadow of the stars and the moon and the slight delirium from the pain medication you’d been given, you say something completely unplanned.
“Always, always?”
There are words written underneath those layers, a silent question that lays beneath the layers.
“Yeah, for however long you’ll let me. I would put it all down for you. You’re everything.”
Three sentences, which string together all your smallest insecurities.
“I think I want that, forever, or, whatever.”
In the starlight you realise that this is anything but casual.
There is a smile in the way that Leah speaks, the stripping of the same little insecurities that you’ve been feeling.
“I think we’ve been forever from the beginning, you’re only now allowing yourself to realise it. I’ve only ever wanted you.”
Despite all the blindness, all the continuous ignorance that Leah was simply entertaining you for a season, or a moment, you realise that maybe you can have more, you can need more.
A peace settles between the two of you, and despite how banged up and bruised you feel there is a lightness that overcomes you, in a way that you swear you’ve never felt in your whole life.
Minutes pass, and just as you think you’re about to drift off there is a murmur from beside you.
“Love you.”
It’s nowhere even in the realm of casual, but you were never casual to begin with.
You were expected to go for two rounds at Wimbledon. Three if you pushed your luck, but two as a realistic expectation.
You’d been toeing the line for an entrance to the French, but had ultimately decided it was too early.
Despite all doubts, you stand on the grass though playing for your third plate.
It’s defying all odds, yet from the moment you step foot on the court, eye to eye with Sabalenka you know it’s a won game.
You love Wimbledon, which is funny because you’re a hard court player, always have been always will be, but there is a little special place in your heart that England holds now and despite your Australian heritage you can’t shake the desire to bring a trophy home to England.
Leah, despite an invitation to sit in the Royal box, coming off of another champions league final win (one that you were present for this time around), is seated with your coaching team.
She doesn’t wear the cap and jackets like you had in your first game at the Emirates, she sits proudly, although her eyebrows are knitted in a deep anxiety of a person who knows how deeply important this game is.
You’re a different person to the version of you from six months ago, you’ve got some new shoulder tape and a different hair cut after you’d insisted you cut it due to the difficulty to wash it during your early sling days.
But you’re also relaxed as you come up to serve your first ball, there is no weight pulling your shoulders down. You feel the most free you’ve ever felt during a tennis game.
You win in two sets, the game over almost as quickly as it started.
You keep the press and presentation quick, there is a hammering in your heart that the feeling of a plate in your hands does not quell.
Once it’s all done you head in one direction, your eyes trained on the only thing you’ve been thinking of for weeks, months, maybe a year.
Leah is waiting in the stands with the biggest grin on her face you’ve ever seen, and before she can even say a single word your arms are wrapped around her neck and face pressed deep into the crease of her collar.
“You fucking did it baby, you fucking did it.”
There is still adrenaline coursing through your veins, you’re sure of it. Nothing else could explain the stupidity.
“Kiss me.”
Leah and you have been ‘soft launching’ for months, never going out of your way to admit things but also not in hiding.
There had been rumours, a fair share of them being true, but you’d let it all be background noise, you were happy for it to be background noise.
“You’re kidding.”
Out of the two of you, you’re the more private one, it’s much easier for you.
“Kiss me, idiot.”
You come out from her neck only to look up at her, and she does what you’ve asked.
It’s more a smile than anything else, the beauty of real happiness pressed together.
Tomorrow there will be headlines, some that call you gay icons and some that say it was exceptionally unprofessional. Yet it doesn’t matter, not as you look into the eyes of a woman you’ve loved for what feels like an eternity.
It’s not casual, not casual in any way at all, but you don’t want it to be. It’s painstakingly deliberate and it feels good, it feels like anything and everything you’d stayed up at night yearning for. You were never made for casual, you think this is so much better.
Summary: The dream: signing for Arsenal, playing in front of thousands of fans, and bossing the midfield.
The reality: having to map out the entire training ground facility like you're planning a heist just to avoid the club dog because you have intense, paralyzing trauma from being chased by one a few years ago.
Word count: 4047
A/n: not gonna lie, I didn't plan on writing an arsenal fic (most of these players don't even speak to me lol), but i kept seeing the dog in the signing videos. is this a good moment to anounce that i'm not a dog lover?
anyway, hope you like :)
The contract on your kitchen counter is forty pages of sheer validation. It’s everything you’ve broken your body for since you were a kid kicking a deflated ball against a brick wall. It’s the Champions League. It’s London. It’s Arsenal.
Your agent had called you an hour ago, her voice vibrating with excitement through the speaker. “It’s a done deal. They met the wage demands, the bonuses are locked in, and Renée wants you in the squad by Monday. Congratulations, you’re a Gooner.”
You had screamed. You had cried a little. You had immediately sat down to stare at the digital copy of the contract, your thumb hovering over the signature line. It was a dream come true.
Until you did what any modern footballer does to celebrate: you opened instagram.
You wanted to see the announcement graphics, to scroll through the club’s recent match photos and picture yourself in the red and white kit. But as you tapped on the Arsenal Women’s official page, the very first post on their grid wasn’t a highlight reel of a top corner screamer.
It was a video of Alessia Russo walking into the London Colney training ground. And trotting happily at her heel, a customized Arsenal harness strapped around her chest, was a chocolate Labrador. The caption read: Win’s ready for the weekend. Are you?
Your heart didn’t just skip a beat, it dropped like a stone into the pit of your stomach.
The warmth in your chest instantly vanished, replaced by a familiar prickle of cold sweat on the back of your neck. Your thumb froze over the screen. You stared at the dog’s wagging tail, its open mouth, the way Lotte Wubben-Moy casually knelt down to let the animal lick her face in the next slide.
Your breathing grew shallow. Just looking at the screen, the phantom weight of a memory pulled you backward, dragging you three years into the past.
You’re twenty-one, playing abroad, and it’s a rainy Tuesday. You’re coming home from a grueling double session, your aching legs feeling heavy as you step off the metro. You walk up the concrete stairs, ready to hit the fresh air, but just as you reach the top step and look out onto the open station plaza, your breath hitches.
A massive dog, some kind of high drive mastiff mix, is pacing the concrete. It’s unleashed. A few meters away, a guy is staring lazily down at his phone, a heavy chain leash hanging uselessly from his hand, completely ignoring his animal.
Before you can even think to quietly step backward, the dog’s head snaps in your direction. It locks eyes with you. Its body goes dead still, muscles bunching under its coat, ears pinning flat against its skull.
Then, it charges.
Panic explodes in your chest. You turn on your heel and fly back down the concrete stairs, your exhausted legs screaming as you sprint for your life. In the distance, you hear the owner finally look up, his voice echoing frantically, “Hey! No! Stop! Come here!” but the dog completely ignores him.
You can hear the horrific, frantic scratching of its claws on the concrete steps right behind you, it’s gaining on you. You burst onto the platform, sprinting blindly, your heart hammering against your ribs so hard it nauseates you. By some miracle, a train is sitting at the platform. You throw your body through the closing doors, collapsing onto the metal floor just as the chimes ring.
A heavy thud echoes through the carriage as the dog slams against the outside of the door, barking viciously and scraping its paws against the windows as the train pulls away into the dark tunnel.
You lay on the floor of the train, sobbing, your hands shaking so violently you can’t even stand up. You never use that metro station again.
You blink, shaking yourself out of the memory, and look back down at your phone.
Win. Her name is Win. You’d heard about her, of course, the club dog bought to help boost morale and mental health around the training ground. A brilliant initiative. A beautiful animal.
And your absolute worst nightmare.
You look from the phone to the contract. You’re an elite athlete. You tackle aggressive forwards, you play in front of fifty-thousand screaming fans, and you survive grueling fitness tests. But right now, you’re completely paralysed by a labrador who lives at your future workplace.
Slowly, your trembling finger taps the signature line. You can’t turn down the biggest move of your career because of a dog. Your agent would think you’d lost your mind. The media would have a field day. You just have to be smart. You’ll memorise her schedule. You’ll take the long way around the facility. You’ll play the most intens game of hide-and-seek of your life.
You press sign.
Welcome to Arsenal, the confirmation screen reads.
You let out a shaky breath, whispering to the empty room, “Please stay on your leash.”
xxxxxxxxxxx
Solbha Realty Training Centre is beautiful. For any normal footballer, arriving here for their first official day of training is a moment of pure awe.
For you, it feels like stepping onto a minefield.
You grip the steering wheel of your car, staring through the windshield at the reception building. Your stomach is doing flips, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the tactical briefing Renée has scheduled for you at ten.
You kill the engine, take a deep breath, and grab your duffel bag. Eyes up, you tell yourself. Keep your ears open.
The reception area is quiet, the air smelling faintly of expensive coffee and freshly cut grass. The receptionist gives you a warm smile, handing you your digital security fob. “Welcome to Arsenal,” she says brightly. “Renée and the girls are already down in the tactical room. Just head straight down the main corridor, take a left past the medical department, and it’s the second door on your right.”
“Thank you,” you say, your voice remarkably steady despite the frantic beating of your pulse.
You take the security fob and start walking. You don’t look like a nervous wreck. To anyone passing by, you look like a confident, focused new signing: shoulders back, chin up, kit bag slung casually over one shoulder. But internally, your senses are dialed up to eleven. Every squeak of a sneaker on the polished floor makes you flinch. Every distant sound is filtered through a single question: Is that a bark?
You make the left turn past the medical room, your eyes scanning the floor ahead. No food bowls, no stray squeaky toys. So far, so good.
You reach the tactical room, slip inside, and the sudden wave of noise and warmth hits you. The entire squad is already there, scattered across the rows of tiered seating.
“Look who it is!” Chloe Kelly’s voice booms over the chatter.
Within seconds, you’re enveloped in a whirlwind of greetings. Leah Williamson gives you a welcoming hug, Lotte Wubben-Moy offers a warm smile, and Alessia Russo taps the empty seat right next to her. The atmosphere is instantly comforting, a reminder of exactly why you wanted to join this club. These women are elite, but they treat you like family from day one.
“Glad you made it through London traffic,” Alessia jokes, leaning back in her chair as Renée walks up to the tactical board at the front of the room.
“Barely,” you laugh, finally letting your shoulders drop. You slide into the seat, placing your duffel bag by your feet. For the next forty five minutes, you actually manage to forget about your phobia. You lose yourself in the familiar comfort of football: analysing passing lanes, understanding the pressing triggers, visualizing how you’re going to fit into the midfield.
But just as Renée wraps up the meeting, drawing a final arrow on the whiteboard, the handle of the tactical room door clicks.
Your entire body locks up instantly. The laughter dying in your throat.
The door pushes open, and a staff member steps in holding a stack of papers. But you aren’t looking at the papers. Your eyes are glued to the floor. Trotting in right beside the staff member’s legs, tail wagging in a circle, is the chocolate ;abrador.
Win.
“Oh, look who came to say good morning!” Daphne coos from the row behind you.
The room instantly erupts into a chorus of high pitched greetings and clicking fingers. Win, fully aware of her status as the Arsenal darling, trots happily toward the front row, her claws clicking softly against the hard floor.
The sound rings in your ears like a countdown timer. The exact same suffocating weight from the metro stairs slams into your chest. Your lungs refuse to expand. Your hands grip the edge of your seat so tightly your knuckles turn white. You can feel the urge to run, to scramble over the chairs and bolt out the back door, but you are physically glued to the spot by sheer terror.
Win pauses, sniffing at Lotte’s boots, and then her dark eyes shift. She looks straight at you.
To the dog, you’re just a new friend to greet. She takes two happy steps in your direction.
“Hey, girl,” Alessia says softly, reaching down to scratch Win behind the ears just as the dog gets within two feet of your legs.
That movement saves you. With Win temporarily distracted by Alessia’s hand, you force your legs to move. You stand up abruptly, the legs of your chair scraping loudly against the floor. A few heads turn toward you, but you’re too panicked to care.
“I… I need to use the restroom before we head out to the pitch,” you choke out, aiming a tight, completely fake smile at Renée.
“Go ahead,” Renée nods, already turning back to her notes. “Pitch one in five minutes.”
You don’t walk out of the room, you practically sprint. You grab your bag, bypass Win by a wide berth, and slip through the door before the dog can even turn her head.
Once you’re out in the hallway, you lean your back against the wall, taking deep breaths. Your heart is pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, and your hands are noticeably shaking.
You pull out your phone, opening the digital map of the training ground that the club sent you in your welcome email. You stare at the layout of the corridors, the gym, the canteen, and the pitches.
You’re going to have to memorise every single alternative route. You’re going to have to become a ghost in this building. Because if anyone finds out that a dog makes the club’s newest star signing want to cry, you’ll never live it down.
xxx
You learn the layout of the training grounds faster than you’ve ever learned a tactical system.
Within two weeks, you have the entire facility mapped out in your head based on probability metrics. The main corridor past the media room? High risk, Win likes to nap outside the press officer’s door. The pathway leading to the main pitches? Medium risk, depends entirely on whether Leah or Kim Little is holding her leash. The back hallway near the laundry room? Low risk. Pristine. Safe.
You become a master of the ‘Ghost Protocol’. You are always the first to arrive in the dressing room and the last to leave, ensuring you never get caught in the hallway bottlenecks where Win usually roams. If you hear the distinctive click click click of claws on the linoleum, you instantly pivot, pretending you forgot your water bottle or needed to check something with the kit manager.
On the pitch, you’re flying. Your chemistry with the girls is instant. You’re tracking back, linking up with the frontline, and pulling the strings in midfield like you’ve been her for years.
But off the pitch, the strain is starting to show. And the Arsenal locker room is far too observant for your own good.
It starts on a Thursday after a grueling double session. You’re sitting in the canteen, ravenous, happily piling pasta onto your plate alongside Steph and Caitlin. The vibe is relaxed, the room filled with the clatter of cutlery and easy laughter.
“Honestly, the jetlag from the international break is still killing me,” Caitlin groans, leaning her chin on her hand. “I feel like a zombie.”
“You always look like a zombie, Foordy,” Steph teases, making you laugh into your water glass.
For a second, you let your guard down. You take a bite of your food, completely relaxed.
Then, you feel it.
It’s a subtle shift in the air under the table. A soft pressure against the fabric of your training pants, followed by a heavy, warm exhale against your bare ankle.
Your fork freezes halfway to your mouth.
Every muscle in your body locks into stone. The noise of the canteen instantly fades into static, replaced by the frantic thudding of your own heart. No, no, no, please no.
Slowly, agonisingly, you glance down between your knees.
There she is. Win is sitting squarely under the table, her big brown eyes looking up at you with pure, hopeful curiosity. Her tail gives a soft thump thump against the leg of your chair. She smells your pasta. She wants a handout.
Panic, cold and sharp, paralyses your lungs. The exact same suffocating feeling from the metro station slams into your chest. You can’t breathe. Your hands begin to tremble so violently that the fork slips from your fingers, clattering loudly against your plate.
“Whoops, clumsy,” Caitlin chuckles, reaching down. “Oh, hey Win! When did you get under here?”
As Caitlin leans down to pet her, Win shifts, her wet nose accidentally brushing directly against your shin.
That’s your breaking point.
You stand up so fast your chair screeches violently against the floor, nearly tipping backward. Steph and Caitlin both jump, startled by the sudden noise.
“Whoa, you good?” Steph asks, her brow furrowing as she looks up at you.
Your face is completely drained of color. Your chest is heaving, your vision narrowing at the edges. You look down at Win, who is now looking up at you with confusion, her ears slightly back.
“I, I forgot,” you stammer, your voice tight, high, and unrecognizable. “I forgot I have an appointment with the physio. Right now. I have to go.”
“But you haven't even finished your-” Caitlin starts.
“Sorry, got to go!”
You abandon your full plate, snatch up your phone, and practically sprint out of the canteen. You don’t look back. You burst through the double doors into the quiet hallway, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You duck into an empty storage closet, pulling the door shut until it clicks, and slide your back down the wall into the darkness.
You press your palms over your eyes, trying to force your heart to stop racing. Get a grip, you tell yourself angrily. You’re a professional athlete. You can’t keep living like a fugitive in your own training ground.
Meanwhile, back in the canteen, Steph and Caitlin are staring at the empty doorway.
“That was... weird, right?” Caitlin asks, looking down at Win, who has now rested her chin sadly on Caitlin’s shoe. “She looked like she'd seen a ghost.”
Steph doesn’t answer immediately. Her eyes drift from your abandoned plate, down to the floor where Win is sitting, and then back to the door. A tiny, speculative frown creases her forehead.
“Yeah,” Steph murmurs, her mind ticking over a dozen different strange instances over the last two weeks. The abrupt u-turns in the hallway. The sudden stiffness in the team photos. “Extremely weird.”
xxxxx
It happens on a Thursday morning, a few days after the canteen incident. You’re sitting on the treatment table in the medical room, casually scrolling through your phone while the physio straps your ankle. You feel good. Training went perfectly, you managed to dodge Win by taking the laundry room route twice, and you’re finally starting to feel like you have a handle on this.
You open TikTok, and the very first video on your for you page is a fan edit. The sound over it is a suspenseful true-crime audio track. The text flashing across the screen reads: is arsenals new midfielder beefing with Win? the evidence is loud 💀
Your thumb freezes. Your stomach drops.
You tap the screen, your heart rate spiking as the video plays. It’s a compilation.
The first clip is from the club’s official Behind the Scenes youtube vlog from your first week. The camera is focused on Daphne laughing in the hallway. But in the background, clear as day, you can be seen walking toward them. The moment Win trots into the frame from a side room, you make a sharp, aggressive 180° turn, pulling your hood up and walking briskly in the absolute opposite direction.
The second clip is a zoomed in, slowed down snippet from the team photo day. The entire squad is smiling, arms around each other. Win is sitting at the very front, right in the center. The camera pans to you, standing on the far right flank. Your smile is completely frozen, your body stiff as a board, and your eyes are locked onto the dog with a look of sheer, unadulterated panic.
The final clip is a screen recording of a recent live stream. Emily Fox was doing a Q&A in the media room, and in the background, you peeked your head through the glass door, spotted Win sleeping on the rug, and instantly vanished.
The caption of the tiktok reads: someone tell her Win doesn’t bite 😭 she looks like she’s fighting for her life in every clip.
The video has three hundred thousand views. The top comment, with twenty thousand likes, says: wait... is she actually terrified of the club dog? LMFAO no way.
“Hey, you alright?” the physio asks, noticing the sudden tension in your leg. “Your calf muscle just went rock hard.”
“Yeah,” you choke out, quickly locking your phone and shoving it screen down onto the table. “Just... a cramp. Im fine.
You aren’t fine. You leave the medical room with your head spinning. If the fans have noticed, then the media is going to catch on. The next time you do a post match interview, some journalist is going to ask you about it, and you're going to look ridiculous.
You walk toward the locker room, desperate to grab your keys and go home to hide. But as you push the heavy door open, the room goes completely silent.
The entire squad is gathered around the central island. Leah is holding a phone, and Kim, Alessia, and Mariona are leaning over her shoulder.
When you step inside, they all look up at you.
Leah has an expression that is a mix of intense sympathy and mild amusement. Mariona looks like she’s trying (and failing) not to burst out laughing.
“Hey,” Leah says softly, stepping away from the group and walking over to you. She holds up her own phone. It’s the exact same TikTok video. “So... the girls and I were just looking at something. Do you want to tell us why you’ve been treating our chocolate lab like she’s a dangerous predator?”
Your face burns a furious, bright red. You look at the floor, your hands clenching into fists inside your jacket pockets. The humiliation is overwhelming. You’re an international footballer, a marquee signing, and you’re about to have to admit your biggest weakness to your captain.
“I’m not beefing with her,” you mutter, your voice barely audible.
“Then what is it?” Kim asks gently, her tone completely devoid of judgment as she steps forward. “If something’s wrong, you can tell us.”
You take a deep breath, the suffocating feeling returning to your chest just from thinking about it.
“I’m scared of dogs,” you confess, the words tasting like lead. “Like, really, really scared. I had a bad experience a few years ago at a metro station, and I just... I freeze. I can’t breathe around them. I’ve been trying to avoid Win since my first day here because I didn't want everyone to think I was crazy.”
The room is silent for a beat. You brace yourself for the jokes, the teasing, the typical locker room banter.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, Leah lets out a soft sigh, stepping closer and dropping a comforting hand onto your shoulder. “Oh, you idiot,” she says, her voice full of genuine affection. “Why didn’t you just tell us?”
You blink, completely caught off guard. You look up from the floor, expecting to see mocking smirks, but instead, you’re met with a wall of fiercely protective expressions.
“Wait, so that’s why you ran out of the canteen the other day?” Caitlin asks, her jaw dropping as the pieces finally click into place. “Oh my god, I felt so bad! I thought you hated my storytelling.”
“No!” you say quickly, a sheepish smile finally breaking through your embarrassment. “No, Win touched my leg under the table. I thought my heart was going to explode.”
“You should have said something on day one,” Kim says, her captain’s persona instantly locking into place. She crosses her arms, already calculating a solution. “We would have made sure she was kept in the media lounge or on a leash when you were around. Arsenal is supposed to be your safe space, not a horror movie.”
“Honestly, we’re the idiots for not noticing sooner,” Leah murmurs, her hand still grounding you with a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. “But don’t worry about the internet, okay? Fans make edits out of everything. We’ll handle the squad, and we’ll handle Win.”
“How are you going to handle Win?” you ask, looking around the room skeptical. “She literally has a security pass to this building.”
Mariona steps forward with a wicked, mischievous grin. “Simple. You’re looking at your new personal security. From now on, no one lets Win near you. We’ll scout the hallways ahead of you like Secret Service agents.”
You let out a genuine, breathless laugh, the heavy weight that has been crushing your chest for the last month finally evaporating.
True to their word, the Arsenal Women’s Football Club turns into a well-oiled, anti-dog defense unit by the very next morning.
You arrive for training on Friday, and before you can even step out of your car, your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Alessia in the team group chat.
Less: The eagle is landing. I repeat, Win is currently in the media room eating a tennis ball. Coast is clear.
You chuckle, shaking your head as you walk into the building. When you reach the main corridor, Olivua is standing near the analysis room, leaning casually against the wall. As you pass, she gives you a dramatic nod and shifts her position to walk slightly ahead of you, scanning the intersecting hallways like a bodyguard.
It becomes a hilarious routine. If Win wanders toward the dressing room, Lotte instantly swoops in, distracting the dog with a treat and leading her in the opposite direction before you can even catch a glimpse of a wagging tail. If you need to go to the medical room, Kyra walks a few paces ahead of you, acting as a human shield.
The best part? The fans notice the shift.
A week later, you’re scrolling through tiktok again. The same fan account that made the original edit posts a new compilation.
This time, the video is set to upbeat music. The first clip shows the team arriving at the stadium. Win is on her leash, but Leah is explicitly walking between you and the dog, her arm wrapped securely around your shoulders while pointing your attention toward the fans in the stands. The next clip shows a training ground vlog where Alessia noticeably steps in front of a camera to block Win from your view, giving the cameraman a pointed look.
The text on the screen reads: update: the girls found the tiktoks. they are officially shielding her from Win at all costs. look at how protective they are! 🥺❤️
The top comment reads: arsenal wfc defending their new midfielder better than a low-block defense.
