The Barça team was gathered at a lively café, chatting and laughing over coffee and pastries. Alexia was seated comfortably beside you, her arm resting on the back of your chair, as she listened to Vicky animatedly tell a story to Jana, Bruna, and Salma across the table.
Vicky’s words flowed quickly, with phrases that even you had to concentrate on to catch. But Alexia was nodding along, as if she understood every word—until she leaned in, eyebrows furrowing.
"Wait… what does ‘it hits different’ mean?” Alexia asked, looking between them, a bit lost. The younger girls exchanged amused glances.
“Ah, Ale,” Bruna said, barely hiding her grin. “You wouldn’t get it. Too old-school.”
You bit back a laugh, glancing at Mapi, who had also caught the teasing. She shot you a mischievous look before leaning in with a grin. “Hear that, Ale? Gen Z is trying to tell you something.”
“Excuse me,” Alexia protested, scandalized, her eyes darting between the girls and you. “Old? I’m not old!”
“Oh, sure,” you teased, patting her knee. “Next thing you know, they’ll be showing you how to use emojis, abuelita.”
Everyone burst into laughter, and Alexia’s mouth dropped open in exaggerated shock. “I am not an abuelita! Just because I missed a couple of phrases!”
Salma winked. “It’s okay, Ale. You’re vintage.”
Mapi leaned closer to you, laughing as she whispered, “And here I thought she was the queen of cool.”
Later that evening, you and Alexia were back home, winding down on the couch. She had one arm slung over the backrest, scrolling through her phone, her usual relaxed expression back in place. But you couldn’t resist one last tease.
You nudged her, hiding a grin. “You know, they had a point. You were really struggling today with the slang.”
Alexia narrowed her eyes, giving you a playful glare. “Don’t even start.”
You stretched your arms over your head dramatically. “It’s fine! I get it. You’re probably used to words like… I don’t know, fax machine and VHS—totally normal, classic stuff.”
She scoffed, setting her phone aside and shifting to face you. “Excuse me, I’m not ancient! I’m 30, Y/N.”
“30 is practically 40,” you said with a smirk. “And 40 is practically—”
“Don’t you dare continue.” She tried to look offended but couldn’t keep a straight face, her lips twitching into a smile.
You shrugged innocently. “Hey, I’m just saying, maybe you should start preparing. We can get you one of those pill organizers and a nice pair of reading glasses—”
Alexia scoffed again, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re hilarious, you know that?”
“I try,” you said with a wink. “But seriously, I could teach you some phrases. We can get you caught up with the cool kids. How about lowkey? Like, lowkey, you’re kinda cute even if you’re old.”
“Lowkey, you’re testing my patience,” she shot back, but she was laughing now, tugging you into her side.
“Alright, alright, I’ll stop… for now,” you relented, snuggling up against her, feeling her relax under your touch.
Alexia huffed, pretending to sulk. “I’m telling the team you’re a bully.”
“Oh, please. They already know I’m your biggest fan,” you teased, smiling as you felt her laugh under you.
---
It was a typical Saturday evening, and you and Alexia were sprawled out on the couch after a long day of training. You were scrolling through your phone, catching up on messages, while Alexia sat next to you, humming absently as she flicked through a magazine.
Suddenly, your phone pinged, and you saw the group chat lighting up. The usual suspects—Vicky, Jana, Bruna, and Salma—had started their usual banter.
Vicky: “Anyone up for dinner at 8? I’m thinking sushi 🍣.”
Jana: “I’m in! LFG! 🍻”
Bruna: “Same here, but gotta bounce early. Gotta get my beauty sleep 😴”
Salma: “Same, girl. TTYL!”
You smiled, seeing the typical chaos in the chat, but then you noticed Alexia peeking over your shoulder, trying to read the messages.
“What’s ‘LFG’?” Alexia asked, squinting at the screen.
You turned to her with a grin. “You don’t know?”
She straightened up, looking defensive. “Of course, I do. Just wanted to see if you were paying attention.”
You raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Right. Sure.”
Alexia leaned back with a casual shrug, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. “Well, what does it mean?”
You suppressed a laugh. “It means Let’s F*ing Go, Ale.”
Her eyes widened for a moment, then she quickly tried to recover. “Oh, right. Totally knew that.” She gave you a nod, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Sure you did.”
The next message pinged up.
Vicky: “Yo, can someone get the S&P from the fridge? ASAP?”
Alexia furrowed her brows again. “What’s ‘S&P’?”
You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “Salt and Pepper, Ale. Obviously.”
Alexia looked at you, trying to keep her cool. “Well, I knew that,” she said confidently, though you could see the uncertainty in her eyes.
Another ping came through.
Jana: “BRB, gotta grab my OOTD for dinner!”
Alexia just blinked. “Okay, I know BRB means ‘be right back’… but what’s OOTD?”
You bit your lip to suppress a laugh. “Outfit of the Day, babe. Classic fashion lingo.”
She exhaled sharply. “Of course, I knew that.”
“Right,” you teased. “Totally.”
Another message came through, this time from Bruna.
Bruna: “That’s a mood, Vicky!”
Alexia stared at it for a long moment. “…What does ‘mood’ mean? Like, the weather?”
Now, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “No, Ale. Mood means—well, I guess you can think of it as like when something vibes with you.”
Alexia looked horrified, but instead of admitting defeat, she crossed her arms defiantly. “Okay, well, I’m learning. I’m not old like you think I am.”
“Uh-huh,” you teased, ruffling her hair playfully. “Keep telling yourself that, Ale.”
Alexia rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “I’m definitely not as bad as you make it sound.”
You leaned over, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re adorable, Ale. Don’t worry, I’m here to help you with your cool kid education.”
As the next message came through, you saw Alexia’s eyes narrowing at the screen, but this time, she kept her mouth shut, likely trying to figure it out on her own.
Salma: “Catch y’all at 8, IRL. Can’t wait for the vibes ✌🏼”
You waited a moment, then turned to Alexia with a grin. “Do you know what IRL means?”
Alexia’s face betrayed her confidence now. She stared at the screen and then looked back at you, frowning slightly. “It’s… not important.”
You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “You don’t know, do you?”
“I know! It’s… I’m Really Lame,” she said, her voice rising a bit as if she was trying to convince herself more than you.
You burst into laughter again, earning a playful shove from Alexia. “You’re so full of it, Ale.”
“Fine,” she huffed, slumping dramatically. “Maybe I’m a little behind. But I’m catching up!”
You smiled, wrapping your arm around her. “Don’t worry, I’m here for you. You’re not that old.”
“Ha ha, funny,” she muttered, giving you a sideways glare. “I’m going to learn all the abbreviations, and then I’ll make you feel ancient.”
“Good luck with that,” you grinned, kissing the top of her head. “In the meantime, I’ll just keep you up to date on all the latest slang.”
Alexia mumbled something, but you caught her trying not to smile. It was cute—though she’d never admit it, you knew she was secretly enjoying being the student for once.
After a long week of intense training, you dropped onto the couch beside Alexia with a dramatic groan, sinking into the cushions like you were trying to become part of the furniture.
“Ugh, my back is killing me,” you muttered, rubbing at a sore spot between your shoulders.
Alexia raised an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth curling up in a smirk. “Who’s old now, hmm?” she teased, giving you a light nudge.
You glared at her, feigning offense. “Excuse me, my back pain is from being overworked, not from old age.”
She chuckled, stretching out beside you and crossing her arms over her chest. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. You sounded like a grandma just now.”
“Alright, abuelita,” she cooed in a teasing tone, grinning as she patted your hand like you were ancient.
You gave her a playful shove, trying to suppress a laugh. “Listen, just because I have one tiny backache doesn’t mean I’m old.”
Alexia tilted her head with an exaggerated look of sympathy. “Do we need to get you one of those heated blankets? Or maybe a nice back brace?”
“Oh, you’re hilarious, Ale,” you said, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t stop smiling.
She leaned in, clearly relishing the moment. “I mean, I could help you schedule a physical therapy appointment. Maybe get you into some gentle yoga?”
You laughed, trying to hide how much you were enjoying her teasing. “Please, I’m still in my prime! You, on the other hand, are the one struggling to keep up with Gen Z slang.”
She raised her hands in surrender, feigning innocence. “Fine, fine. I’ll let it go… for now. But I’m just saying, if you need me to fetch you some extra pillows, just let me know.”
You groaned, reaching for a pillow to toss at her, which she dodged easily, laughing.
“Alright, maybe I’ll go see the team physio,” you admitted, finally giving in. “But only if you promise to stop calling me abuelita.”
Alexia leaned back, crossing her arms with a self-satisfied grin. “We’ll see, grandma. I- I mean amore," Alexia quickly corrected.
It had been a few months since you and Leah had made your relationship public. It wasn’t exactly planned, but after a particularly passionate post-match celebration where you’d jumped into her arms in front of the cameras, there was no hiding it anymore.
The reaction from the fans had been… intense, to say the least.
You’d always known people found you attractive; it wasn’t something that ever really mattered to you, but it became impossible to ignore when your name started trending on social media after every game. Whether it was because of your play or your looks, the fans seemed infatuated, and their comments ranged from flattering to downright objectifying.
Leah, on the other hand, never made a big deal out of it. She knew who you were beneath the spotlight, and that’s what she cared about. But there was one person who never missed an opportunity to remind her just how “lucky” she was.
Katie McCabe.
Katie had taken on the role of the team’s designated teaser from the moment she found out about you and Leah. And while it had started out as harmless banter, recently it had become a bit of a sore spot.
You were all at a team dinner one evening, seated at a long table in one of your favorite London restaurants. The food was good, the wine was flowing, and the team was in high spirits after a string of wins. You were sitting next to Leah, her hand resting casually on your thigh under the table, while Katie sat across from you both, already with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“So, Y/N,” Katie started, her Irish accent cutting through the chatter at the table. “How does it feel being with the best center-back in the world?” She winked at Leah, and for a second, you thought she might let it go there. But no, this was Katie.
Leah tensed beside you, her grip on your thigh tightening slightly. You shot her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand under the table. She always tried to brush off Katie’s teasing, but you could tell it was starting to get to her.
Katie, oblivious to Leah’s discomfort, continued with a grin. “Honestly, Leah, you’re punching, aren’t you? I mean, have you seen Y/N? Half the league’s in love with her. Fair play to ya for locking that down!”
The table burst into laughter, and you chuckled along, though you could feel Leah shifting uncomfortably next to you.
“C’mon, Katie,” you said with a playful smirk, trying to defuse the situation. “Leah’s got plenty of admirers too, you know.”
Katie leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a smug grin. “Oh, sure, but let’s be real—Y/N’s on another level. You’re like the footballing world’s version of a supermodel. Poor Leah must be sweating every time you walk into a room full of players.”
The laughter continued, but this time you felt Leah pull her hand away from your thigh. You glanced over at her, her jaw was tight, and she wasn’t laughing anymore.
“Katie, that’s enough,” Leah said quietly, her voice strained.
But Katie, never one to back down, just raised an eyebrow. “What? Can’t handle the truth, Leah?”
Leah stood up so quickly that her chair scraped loudly against the floor, causing everyone to stop and look at her in surprise. “I’m going for some air,” she muttered, her face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as she stormed out of the restaurant.
You sat there, stunned, as the rest of the table fell silent. Katie looked around, clearly surprised by Leah’s reaction. “What? I was only having a laugh.”
You frowned, pushing your chair back and standing up. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s not funny, Katie,” you said, giving her a hard look before following Leah outside.
You found Leah outside the restaurant, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed as she stared out into the street. The cool night air did little to calm the tension radiating off her, and for a moment, you weren’t sure what to say.
“Leah,” you called softly, approaching her cautiously. “You okay?”
She didn’t look at you right away. Her jaw was clenched, and when she finally turned to face you, you could see the frustration and vulnerability in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”
You shook your head, stepping closer and gently reaching for her hand. “You don’t have to apologize. Katie was out of line.”
Leah sighed, pulling her hand back and pacing a few steps away from you. “It’s not just Katie,” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “It’s… everything. The fans, the comments, the constant reminders that you’re… you, and I’m just…” She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
You frowned, stepping forward and placing a hand on her arm to stop her pacing. “Leah, don’t do that. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
She shook her head, her frustration bubbling over. “But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re Y/N. Everyone’s obsessed with you, and I can’t go anywhere without hearing how I’m ‘punching above my weight.’”
You blinked, taken aback by the raw emotion in her voice. “Leah, I didn’t know it bothered you this much.”
“Of course, it bothers me!” she snapped, and then immediately softened, as if regretting her outburst. She rubbed her temples, sighing heavily. “I know it’s stupid. I know none of it should matter, but… sometimes I feel like I’m constantly being compared to you, and I’m always coming up short.”
Your heart sank at her words. You had no idea Leah had been feeling this way, and now you felt a surge of guilt for not noticing sooner.
“Leah, look at me,” you said gently, taking both of her hands in yours and pulling her closer. “I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re not ‘punching.’ I love you, and I’m with you because of who you are, not because of what anyone else thinks.”
Leah’s eyes met yours, and you could see the conflict in them—part of her wanted to believe you, but the insecurities were still gnawing at her.
“I just…” she began, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want to feel like I’m not enough for you.”
That hit you hard. You took a deep breath and stepped even closer, cupping her face in your hands. “Leah, you are more than enough. You’re everything. I don’t care what the fans say, or what Katie jokes about. They don’t know us. They don’t know how much you mean to me.”
She searched your eyes for a moment, her walls starting to crumble. “You really mean that?”
“Of course I do,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re strong, kind, beautiful, and more than anything, you make me happy. And that’s what matters.”
Leah’s lips trembled slightly, and she let out a shaky breath as she pulled you into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into your shoulder. “I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”
You hugged her back just as tightly, running your hand up and down her back in soothing strokes. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry for not realizing how much this was bothering you.”
She pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes softening as she gave you a small, apologetic smile. “I guess I just let it all build up.”
“I get it,” you said, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “But from now on, you can talk to me about these things, okay? No more bottling it up.”
Leah nodded, her forehead resting against yours. “Okay. I promise.”
You smiled, brushing your thumb over her cheek before leaning in to kiss her softly. When you pulled back, her smile was more genuine, and the tension in her shoulders had finally started to ease.
“I love you,” she said quietly, her voice full of sincerity.
“I love you too,” you replied, pressing another kiss to her lips. “And don’t worry, I’ll deal with Katie.”
Leah let out a small laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Good luck with that.”
After your heart-to-heart with Leah, you knew you couldn’t just let Katie keep teasing her without consequences. Leah might have forgiven Katie’s relentless jokes, but you weren’t about to let her off that easily. If Katie wanted to joke about someone “punching above their weight,” then maybe it was time to give her a taste of her own medicine.
The opportunity presented itself just a couple of days later during training. The team had been doing some drills, but the mood was light—everyone was in high spirits after winning their last few matches. You’d been watching Katie all session, waiting for the perfect moment, and it finally came during the cool-down, when everyone gathered around for a few minutes of stretching and chatting.
Katie, as usual, was at the center of it all, making jokes and keeping the team entertained. But this time, you had a plan.
You casually strolled over, sitting down beside Leah and stretching your legs out in front of you. Leah raised an eyebrow at the mischievous glint in your eyes but didn’t say anything. She knew you well enough to know something was up.
As the team began to chatter, you leaned over and nudged Katie with a grin.
“Hey, McCabe,” you called out, making sure your voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. “How’s it feel dating the most attractive player on the team?”
Katie turned to you, confused at first, but then a cocky smirk appeared on her face. “Ha, as if you’re talking about yourself there, Y/N. But, to be fair, I do have the best left foot in the league.”
You grinned wider, ignoring the jab. “No, no. I mean, your girlfriend, yeah? How’s it feel knowing you’re punching way above your weight? Fair play to her, sticking around with you. What a catch.”
The laughter that rippled through the team was immediate. Katie’s face faltered for just a second, and you saw her eyes narrow as she realized what was happening. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of these kinds of jokes.
“Oi, watch it, Y/N. Don’t be getting cocky now,” Katie shot back, but the slight pink tinge to her cheeks told you she wasn’t as cool as she was pretending to be.
“Oh, come on, Katie. We’ve all seen your missus during practice,” you continued, turning the teasing dial up a notch. “Pretty sure if your girlfriend saw your left foot in action, she’d start questioning her life choices.”
More laughter. The whole team was eating it up. Even Leah, who was trying to keep a straight face beside you, couldn’t help the small grin tugging at the corner of her lips.
Katie folded her arms, trying to maintain her tough exterior, but you could see the cracks starting to show. “That’s rich, coming from you, Y/N. At least I don’t trip over my own feet in front of the cameras.”
You shrugged nonchalantly, ready for that one. “True, but I don’t have to worry about that. You’ve got your hands full with everyone wondering how you managed to convince your girlfriend not to trade up.”
The team howled with laughter, some of them clutching their sides as they keeled over, and even the coaching staff was smirking. Katie’s face was now fully red, and she threw you a glare that could have burned a hole through the field. But deep down, you knew she wasn’t really angry. Embarrassed? Yes. But angry? Not quite.
“Well, at least I’m not using my partner to prop up my ego,” Katie shot back, trying to recover, but her voice wasn’t as steady as it usually was.
You gave her a dramatic wink, leaning back on your hands as if you hadn’t just dismantled her reputation in front of the whole team. “No need to be jealous, McCabe. Just know Leah’s still mine, and I’m the one who’s got a catch.”
Katie opened her mouth, probably to throw another quip, but before she could, Leah chimed in.
“Careful, Katie,” Leah said, her voice calm but playful. “You don’t want to make Y/N feel too good about herself, or I might start feeling insecure again.”
Katie shot Leah a look, her eyes wide with mock betrayal. “Oh, don’t you start, too! I’m just trying to have a laugh!”
Leah grinned, clearly enjoying the rare moment of seeing Katie squirm. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s not so funny when you’re the one getting picked on, is it?”
Katie was about to respond when Vivianne Miedema, who had been watching the whole thing with amusement, piped up. “It’s alright, Katie. We all know you’re the real catch here,” she said dryly, earning another round of laughter from the group.
Katie finally let out a groan, rubbing her hand over her face as she shook her head. “Alright, alright, I get it! Y/N’s hilarious, I’m punching, and you all think I’ve got no chance. Can we move on now?”
You grinned triumphantly, leaning forward to give her a playful shove. “Just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine, McCabe. No hard feelings?”
Katie gave you a mock glare but then broke into a grin. “No hard feelings. But don’t think I won’t get you back for this, Y/N. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” you said with a wink.
The tension from earlier had evaporated, and even though you’d embarrassed Katie in front of the whole team, she took it in stride. She might have been annoyed in the moment, but deep down, you knew she appreciated the banter. It was part of what made the team so close, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction at getting some revenge for Leah.
As the team began to disperse, Leah pulled you aside, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” she said, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re going to be on Katie’s hit list now.”
You shrugged, pulling her into a quick hug. “Worth it. She needed to be taken down a peg, and besides…” You leaned in, lowering your voice to a whisper. “I’d do anything to make sure you don’t feel like you’re not enough.”
Leah’s expression softened, and she squeezed your hand, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I know,” she said quietly. “And I love you for it.”
You smiled against her lips. “I love you too.”
The atmosphere at the training ground was light-hearted, as usual. The team had gathered for a post-training cool-down, and, naturally, the banter was in full swing. You and Katie had developed a playful rivalry over the past few weeks, your teasing battles becoming something of an expected part of the team’s routine.
Most days, it was harmless—small digs and jabs that made the team laugh and kept everyone on their toes. But today, the teasing had been especially sharp, and you could sense the tension rising between you and Katie. You weren’t sure why, but she seemed particularly determined to get under your skin.
Katie grinned as she jogged over to where you and Leah were sitting. “Oi, Y/N, heard you were working on your footwork. Might want to call in some help from Viv, yeah? Could save you some embarrassment next time you trip over your own feet in front of the cameras.”
You rolled your eyes, smirking as you shot back without missing a beat. “And maybe you could call Viv for some pointers on how to stay in the starting lineup, McCabe. Might help with all those bench-warming sessions you’ve been having.”
The rest of the team laughed, a few of them throwing in their own jabs at Katie. Leah nudged you with a grin, clearly enjoying the exchange, but you could feel the competitive edge sharpening between you and Katie. This wasn’t going to be just a casual back-and-forth today.
Katie raised an eyebrow, her smile tight. “Careful now, Y/N. Don’t forget, I’ve seen your one-on-one drills. If anyone’s warming the bench next, it’ll be you. Don’t worry, though, I’ll save you a seat.”
You chuckled, but the tension between you and Katie was growing. It was starting to feel less playful and more personal, though you weren’t about to back down.
“Ah, well, if I’m warming the bench, at least I won’t be doing it alone. You and I both know you’ve spent more time sitting out than playing lately, Katie. Maybe you should focus more on your game than on trying to be funny.”
Katie’s eyes flashed, and the team’s laughter had a slight edge to it now. She stepped closer, her grin still in place but her tone sharper than before. “At least I don’t have to rely on my looks to stay relevant, eh? Must be tough, being known more for your face than your football.”
The words hit you harder than you expected, and the smile faltered on your lips for a split second. Katie’s dig went straight to the heart of one of your deepest insecurities—that people only cared about you for your appearance, that no matter how hard you worked on your game, it would always be overshadowed by your looks.
The team went quiet, sensing the sudden shift in the mood. Even Leah’s smile faded as she glanced between you and Katie, realizing that this had gone from playful banter to something more serious.
You swallowed, trying to shake off the sting of her words. You couldn’t let Katie see how much that jab had affected you, but the knot in your stomach was growing.
“Well,” you said, your voice quieter now but still trying to maintain your composure, “at least I’m relevant. Must be hard, Katie, knowing that no one’s really watching you unless you’re on the bench or mouthing off.”
Katie’s smirk faded slightly, but before she could respond, Leah stepped in, her voice calm but firm. “Alright, that’s enough,” she said, glancing between the two of you. “It’s all fun and games until someone takes it too far.”
Katie looked like she was about to say something, but then she hesitated, glancing at you. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—maybe regret, maybe guilt—but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she just shook her head and backed off, walking toward the rest of the team.
You sat there, feeling the weight of Katie’s words settle over you. It wasn’t the first time someone had made a comment about your looks being more of a focus than your football, but coming from a teammate—someone you thought you had a mutual respect with—it stung in a way you hadn’t expected.
Leah leaned closer, her hand resting gently on your back. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked softly, her eyes full of concern.
You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just Katie being Katie.”
But Leah didn’t look convinced. She knew you too well. “She shouldn’t have said that. You know that, right?”
You shrugged, trying to brush it off, but Leah’s hand on your back stayed firm. “Y/N, you’re more than just your looks. You’re an incredible player, and everyone here knows that.”
Her words were comforting, but the knot in your chest didn’t loosen. You knew Leah meant well, and she was trying to reassure you, but the insecurity that Katie had prodded at wasn’t something that could just be talked away.
“I know,” you said quietly, but even to your own ears, your voice sounded hollow.
Leah frowned, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Do you want me to talk to her?”
You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. I’ll handle it.”
Leah gave you a look that said she wasn’t entirely convinced, but she didn’t push. She knew when to let you handle things in your own way.
The rest of training passed in a blur, but your mind kept circling back to Katie’s comment. It echoed in your head, gnawing at the insecurities you’d worked so hard to bury. By the time the session ended, you were barely listening to the conversations around you, just waiting for the chance to be alone with your thoughts.
But as you walked toward the locker room, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Katie standing there, her expression a mix of guilt and awkwardness.
“Y/N, wait,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “Can we talk?”
You crossed your arms, unsure whether you were ready to have this conversation. “What’s there to talk about, Katie? You made your point.”
Katie winced, clearly not expecting you to be so blunt. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just—”
“Just what?” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “Trying to be funny? Well, congratulations, because you really nailed it. I hope it was worth it.”
Katie sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to hit a nerve. It was just… we were going back and forth, and I wasn’t thinking. I took it too far.”
You wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the hurt, but looking at Katie now, with her genuine regret and the tension in her shoulders, it was hard to keep the wall up. You sighed, shaking your head.
“Yeah, you did,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You don’t know how hard it is, Katie. Everyone’s always focusing on how I look, and no matter how well I play, it’s never good enough. I’m always going to be ‘the pretty one’ instead of the footballer.”
Katie looked down, her guilt deepening. “I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was like that for you. I was just… I don’t know, trying to win the banter, I guess. But that was a shitty thing to say.”
You stared at her for a moment, weighing her words. Finally, you sighed, letting go of some of the tension in your chest. “Just… don’t do it again, alright?”
Katie nodded, her eyes sincere. “I won’t. I promise.”
You nodded, and the two of you stood there for a moment in silence before Katie gave you a small, apologetic smile. “We good?”
You hesitated, then nodded again, this time with a hint of a smile. “Yeah, we’re good.”
Katie grinned, relieved. “Alright. But just so you know, I’m still going to kick your ass in the next drill.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes. “We’ll see about that, McCabe.”
The house was unusually quiet as you sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. The show playing in front of you was some sitcom, the laugh track echoing in the background, but you weren’t really watching it. Your mind was miles away, replaying Katie’s words over and over.
"At least I don’t have to rely on my looks to stay relevant, eh?"
You sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions. No matter how hard you tried to brush it off, the comment clung to you like a shadow, creeping into every thought. It wasn’t just what Katie had said—it was the deeper fear behind it. A fear that had been gnawing at you for as long as you could remember.
You’d worked so hard to get to where you were, to be taken seriously as a footballer. But no matter how many matches you played, how many goals you scored, or how much time you spent perfecting your skills, the comments about your appearance never seemed to stop. The media, the fans, even some of the players—they all seemed more interested in how you looked than in how you played. And Katie’s joke had only reinforced the insecurity that you weren’t good enough, that people only noticed you because of your looks.
You hadn’t told Leah how much it bothered you when Katie had said it. You’d brushed it off at the time, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, but now, sitting here alone, it was hard to ignore the weight of those words.
The sound of the front door opening snapped you out of your thoughts. Leah stepped inside, her hair slightly damp from her post-training shower, and she smiled when she saw you sitting on the couch.
“Hey,” she said softly, kicking off her shoes and walking over to sit beside you. “How was the rest of your day?”
You forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “It was fine,” you said, your voice quiet.
Leah’s brow furrowed as she studied your face, immediately sensing that something was off. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice gentle. “You’ve been distant since training.”
You hesitated, not wanting to drag the mood down, but Leah had a way of reading you better than anyone else. She wasn’t going to let this go.
“It’s nothing,” you muttered, but Leah’s gaze didn’t waver.
“Y/N,” she said, her tone soft but insistent. “Talk to me. I know something’s bothering you.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to find the right words. “It’s just… what Katie said. About me relying on my looks. It’s been stuck in my head.”
Leah’s eyes softened with understanding, and she shifted closer to you on the couch, her hand gently resting on your knee. “She didn’t mean it,” Leah said quietly. “You know Katie—she says things without thinking. She’s already apologized.”
“I know,” you said quickly. “I know she didn’t mean it like that, but… it just hit a nerve, you know? Because sometimes it feels like that’s all people see. They talk about how I look, not how I play. And no matter how hard I work, it’s like I’m always going to be ‘the pretty one’ instead of the footballer.”
Leah frowned, her hand squeezing your knee gently. “That’s not true,” she said firmly. “You’re an amazing player, Y/N. Anyone who knows anything about football can see that. You’re not just here because of your looks—you’re here because you’ve earned it.”
You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “But it doesn’t feel like that sometimes. It feels like no matter what I do on the pitch, it’s always going to be overshadowed by something I can’t control.”
Leah shifted closer, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you into her side. “I get it,” she said softly. “I know it’s hard. People focus on the wrong things all the time. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re one of the best players I’ve ever seen.”
You leaned into her, resting your head on her shoulder as you tried to take comfort in her words. Leah was always good at reassuring you, at making you feel better, but the insecurity Katie had touched on wasn’t something that could be easily shaken.
“I just… I don’t want to be seen as a joke, Leah,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want people thinking I’m only here because I’m attractive. I’ve worked so hard to be good at this, and it feels like it doesn’t even matter sometimes.”
Leah pulled back slightly so she could look at you, her eyes full of warmth and sincerity. “You’re not a joke, Y/N. You’re an incredible footballer, and anyone who tries to reduce you to just your looks doesn’t know what they’re talking about. You belong here because you’re talented, and you’ve worked for everything you’ve achieved. Don’t let anyone make you feel like that’s not enough.”
You sighed, nodding slightly but still feeling the weight of the insecurity. Leah’s words helped, but it was hard to completely shake the doubt that lingered in the back of your mind.
Leah tilted her head, studying your face for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips. “Do you want to know something?” she asked, her voice soft.
You glanced up at her, curious. “What?”
“I don’t care about how you look,” Leah said, her tone teasing but her eyes sincere. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re ridiculously attractive, but that’s not why I love you. I love you because you’re funny, and smart, and kind, and you’re an amazing player. The looks are just a bonus.”
You couldn’t help but smile at her words, a small laugh escaping your lips despite the heaviness you’d been feeling. “You’re just saying that.”
Leah shook her head, her smile widening. “Nope. I mean every word. And the next time someone tries to reduce you to just your looks, I’ll remind them why you’re so much more than that.”
You smiled, feeling some of the tension in your chest loosen. Leah always had a way of making you feel seen, of reminding you that you were more than just what people said about you.
Leah reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as her eyes softened. “I’m proud of you, Y/N. For everything you’ve accomplished. And I’ll always be here to remind you how incredible you are, even when you forget.”
You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, grateful for her support. “Thank you,” you whispered against her mouth.
Leah smiled as she pulled back, resting her forehead against yours. “Always.”
The two of you sat there in the quiet of your living room, the earlier heaviness slowly fading as Leah’s words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. Katie’s joke still lingered in the back of your mind, but it didn’t feel as sharp anymore. With Leah by your side, reminding you of your worth, you knew you could handle it.
As the night wore on, the insecurities that had weighed you down all day began to fade, replaced by the warmth of Leah’s presence and the knowledge that, no matter what anyone said, you were enough.
The buzz surrounding the award nominations had been building for weeks, but you hadn’t given it much thought. Sure, the prospect of being recognized for your hard work was exciting, but you were focused on the season ahead, training hard with your teammates and making sure you were ready for every match.
That was until the day of the announcement arrived. You were in the locker room, going through your usual pre-training routine, when you heard the excited chatter from the other players. Curious, you glanced up from your phone, where you had been scrolling through social media, and caught sight of Leah’s wide smile as she rushed toward you.
“Y/N! Did you see? You’re nominated for the Ballon d’Or!” Leah exclaimed, practically bouncing on her heels.
You blinked, your heart racing at the unexpected news. “What? No, I didn’t see anything!” You quickly reached for your phone, frantically searching for confirmation, and when the news article popped up, your breath caught in your throat.
Your name was right there, alongside some of the best players in the world. The realization hit you like a wave, crashing over you with a mix of disbelief and exhilaration.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe this!” you said, shaking your head in disbelief as you stared at the screen.
Leah laughed, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug, her excitement infectious. “You deserve this, Y/N! You’ve worked so hard! This is proof that you’re not just a pretty face on the pitch—you’re a phenomenal footballer!”
You felt your cheeks heat at her words, both thrilled and embarrassed by the praise. “I mean, it’s just a nomination,” you said, trying to downplay it. “There are so many incredible players out there.”
Leah pulled back to look you in the eyes, her expression serious. “Exactly! And you’re one of them! This nomination isn’t just some fluke—it’s recognition for everything you’ve achieved this season. You’ve scored goals, assisted like a pro, and played your heart out every match. You’re not just here for your looks; you’re here because you’ve earned it.”
Her words struck a chord within you, echoing everything you had been trying to convince yourself of. Maybe this recognition wasn’t just about the attention your appearance drew, but rather a testament to your talent and dedication.
“Thanks, Leah,” you said, feeling a warm flutter in your chest at her unwavering support. “I guess I just never thought I’d be in the running for something like this.”
“Why not? You’re talented and passionate about the game. You bring so much to the team, and people are starting to notice,” Leah said, her eyes sparkling with pride. “This is just the beginning for you, and I couldn’t be happier.”
You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling your confidence begin to swell. “I still can’t believe it. I mean, I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was a kid, but now that it’s actually happening… it’s surreal.
Leah leaned in, her voice low and sincere. “You deserve every bit of this recognition. Just remember that, okay? No matter what happens with the award, you’re a fantastic player, and you should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished.”
You nodded, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “I will, I promise.”
The rest of training flew by in a blur, your teammates buzzing with excitement and congratulating you as the news spread. Each well-wishing comment was a reminder of the support you had from the team, and it filled you with a sense of belonging that you had fought hard to find.
Later that evening, you and Leah settled onto the couch in your living room, the glow of the television casting soft light across the room. You scrolled through social media, reading the messages from fans and other players who had reached out to congratulate you.
“This is amazing,” Leah said, grinning as she pointed at the screen. “Look at all these supportive messages! Even some of the international players are celebrating you!”
You laughed, feeling a swell of pride at the community you had built around you. “I never imagined I’d get this much attention. It’s overwhelming.”
Leah shifted closer, resting her head on your shoulder as you continued to scroll. “Just think of it as validation. You’ve always said you want to be taken seriously as a player, and this is it. You’re proving everyone wrong about how they perceive you.”
You took a deep breath, the reality of her words sinking in. It wasn’t just about being recognized; it was about being seen as a serious contender in the world of football, and it felt incredible.
“Thank you for being my biggest cheerleader,” you said softly, leaning your head against Leah’s. “I don’t think I could’ve done any of this without your support.”
Leah smiled, looking up at you with warmth in her eyes. “I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. You’re more than just a teammate to me—you’re my partner, and I believe in you. Always.”
As the evening wore on, you felt lighter, the earlier worries beginning to fade. The nomination wasn’t just a title; it was proof of your hard work, your dedication, and your growth as a player.
With Leah by your side, you felt ready to take on whatever came next—whether it was the award ceremony, the upcoming matches, or the constant scrutiny that came with being in the spotlight.
In that moment, with Leah’s hand intertwined with yours, you knew you could handle anything. You were more than just a pretty face; you were a force on the pitch, and this was just the beginning.
Training with Barcelona had always been intense, but today felt different. Y/N could sense the tension simmering the moment Patri walked onto the field. It was the same barely-there acknowledgement they’d practiced for years: a stiff nod, averted eyes. On paper, they were teammates, both essential to the success of Barça and Spain, but outside the official photo, they might as well be strangers.
Midway through practice, a small-sided scrimmage forced them to play side-by-side, and the air felt thick with unspoken resentment. Y/N couldn’t tell when it had begun exactly, only that the rivalry had been there since her first game with Patri, each subtle dig and brush of a shoulder building the divide wider.
The ball hit the ground near them, and Y/N, in position to receive it, sensed Patri closing in from behind. They reached for it at the same time, but Patri, fiercely competitive, leaned in too hard. Y/N felt the impact before she saw it, her balance slipping as her shoulder hit the grass. Anger surged in her chest as she jumped up, brushing herself off and glaring at Patri.
“Seriously?” Y/N spat, voice just loud enough for Patri to hear but too low for the coach’s ears.
Patri didn’t back down. She took a step closer, eyes hard, barely disguising the contempt behind her words. “Maybe if you kept up, you wouldn’t be on the ground.”
“Maybe if you actually passed the ball instead of hogging it every game, we’d get somewhere,” Y/N shot back. Her fists clenched, and she could feel the strain of biting her tongue to keep from saying more.
The coach’s whistle blew, calling them over, but the silent animosity between them buzzed like an invisible barrier. When the drill ended, they returned to the locker room without a word. Y/N sat a few benches away from Patri, both of them pointedly ignoring each other as they untied their cleats.
The tension followed them to the next national camp for Spain. As fate would have it, they ended up roommates—a final jab from whoever organized room assignments. Neither protested aloud, but Y/N caught Patri’s eye-roll as they both walked into the tiny room.
The nights were quiet, save for the occasional frustrated sigh from Patri or Y/N’s annoyed scoff when Patri hogged the bed space. They moved around each other with a forced politeness that bordered on resentment, every little action feeling like a minor battle won or lost.
One evening, after a particularly tense training session, Y/N couldn’t hold it in any longer. She caught Patri on the way out of the room.
“Do you hate me, or do you just enjoy making every day hell?” Y/N asked, her voice colder than she intended.
Patri turned, pausing in the doorway. Her gaze was as steely as ever. “You think I spend my time hating you? I don’t have time to care that much.”
Y/N clenched her jaw, words laced with frustration. “Then maybe stop acting like it.” She waited for a response, her heart beating faster than it should.
Patri simply shrugged, eyes dark and unforgiving. “If you can’t handle it, maybe you should stop making it personal.”
The door closed behind her, leaving Y/N alone in the room, her chest aching with an inexplicable mix of anger and hurt.
The team had just wrapped up a long, grueling training session, and Y/N’s patience was wearing thin. Once again, she found herself clashing with Patri on the field. Every drill had felt like a test, each pass an indirect challenge. By the end, Y/N was wound tight, emotions barely contained beneath the surface. She knew she had to get it off her chest or risk snapping in front of everyone, so she went to the one person she trusted.
Alexia was sitting on a bench outside the training grounds, sipping water and cooling down when Y/N approached. She raised a brow, sensing Y/N’s frustration from a mile away.
“Hey, you alright?” Alexia asked, patting the bench next to her. “You look like you’re ready to throw something.”
Y/N sighed heavily, dropping down beside her. “I don’t know how much more I can take of Patri acting like she’s better than everyone,” she muttered, voice hushed but seething. “It’s like she can’t stand the idea of anyone else having the spotlight.”
Alexia raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly but cautiously, unsure if she should add fuel to the fire. “I know you two clash, but… isn’t that just her way of being competitive?”
“Competitive?” Y/N’s eyes flared with indignation. “More like condescending. It’s like everything I do annoys her, and she makes it so obvious that she doesn’t want me here. I’m starting to think she hates me.”
Neither of them noticed Patri approaching from the locker room, her face hardening as she overheard Y/N’s words. She stopped a few feet away, arms crossed, tension radiating from her stance as Y/N continued.
“She’s constantly pushing me around during practice, never passes unless she has no other option, and don’t even get me started on her attitude. I don’t know what her issue is, but I’m sick of it.” Y/N let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “It’s exhausting trying to be a team with her when she acts like I’m in her way.”
Alexia shifted uncomfortably, sensing something or someone nearby, but before she could warn Y/N, Patri’s voice sliced through the air, icy and sharp.
“Oh, please, don’t let me interrupt.” Patri’s voice dripped with sarcasm, her expression cold and defiant as she glared at Y/N. “Go ahead, tell the captain how I’m the worst teammate you’ve ever had.”
Y/N froze, her mouth going dry as she realized Patri had overheard everything. Alexia looked between them, her face tense as she debated intervening.
Y/N narrowed her eyes, refusing to back down. “Maybe if you weren’t always trying to undermine me, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
Patri’s jaw tightened, her glare fierce. “Undermine you? You think I spend my time trying to make you look bad? You’re not that important.”
Y/N’s chest tightened, anger flaring. “Then why does it feel like you’re constantly making everything harder? Every time I step on the field, it’s like you’re waiting for me to fail.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to push you if you’d just play the way you’re supposed to,” Patri shot back, her voice low but filled with barely-contained anger.
Y/N’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Oh, I’m sorry for not living up to your impossible standards, Patri. I didn’t realize I needed your approval to be part of this team.”
Alexia stepped between them, raising her hands. “Enough, both of you,” she said, voice firm but weary. “This isn’t helping either of you or the team.”
Patri huffed, crossing her arms as she looked away, but not before Y/N caught a flicker of something deeper—hurt, maybe, or frustration. Y/N felt her anger soften just slightly, her mind reeling at the sight.
Alexia’s gaze shifted to Y/N, her expression concerned but stern. “You both need to figure this out, or it’s going to destroy any chance we have this season.”
Y/N swallowed, feeling a pang of guilt. But when she looked at Patri, she saw only the same icy mask, the same unyielding barrier.
As Patri turned to walk away, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the bitter sting of unresolved tension hanging between them, a weight they both carried but refused to share.
A rare day off had rolled around, and for the first time in weeks, the Barça women’s team had a light team-bonding event planned. It was one of those days where they could let loose and just enjoy each other’s company—no drills, no drills, no game strategy, just relaxation. The whole team was excited, but Y/N felt a twinge of discomfort when she saw Patri in the same group she’d been assigned to.
When she noticed Y/N’s expression, Patri looked away, but not before Y/N caught the slight downturn in her mouth. Alexia, perceptive as always, nudged both of them together and suggested they partner up for the icebreaker activity, a scavenger hunt around the training facility.
Y/N hesitated, casting a wary glance at Patri, who looked just as unenthusiastic. But Alexia’s stern, no-nonsense look left no room for complaints.
“Alright,” Y/N muttered, breaking the silence between them as they began. “Let’s just get through this without killing each other.”
Patri smirked, a small, teasing glint in her eyes. “That’s a start.”
They moved from clue to clue in an awkward silence at first, each interaction stilted. But as they started tackling some of the sillier tasks on the list—like “find and photograph an unusual item” and “reenact a famous goal”—they couldn’t help but laugh.
At one point, while Patri was trying (and failing) to do an exaggerated, dramatic goal celebration, Y/N found herself laughing for real, the tension easing bit by bit.
“Not bad for someone who acts like they’re allergic to fun,” Y/N teased, giving her a playful shove.
Patri rolled her eyes but laughed. “If you were as funny as you think you are, maybe we’d have gotten along a lot sooner.”
Y/N smirked, folding her arms as they continued walking. “Oh, so you’re saying I’m funny?”
Patri shot her a look. “Don’t push it.”
The scavenger hunt continued in the same way, with Y/N and Patri exchanging quips and slowly falling into an easier rhythm. They even finished their list first, proudly high-fiving each other when they returned to Alexia with their completed tasks.
After the activity, Patri surprised Y/N by suggesting they get a coffee together. They found a small cafe tucked away in a quiet corner of town, taking a seat by the window as they watched people pass by.
They sipped their drinks in silence for a while before Patri spoke up, her gaze focused on her coffee cup.
“Look, about all the tension between us,” she began, her voice quieter than Y/N had ever heard it. “I know I haven’t exactly made it easy.”
Y/N blinked, taken aback by the sudden sincerity. She nodded, encouraging Patri to continue.
“It’s just…” Patri trailed off, her brow furrowing as she tried to find the right words. “I think I’ve always seen you as competition more than a teammate, and I guess that made me… defensive.”
Y/N considered her response carefully. “To be honest, I haven’t exactly made it easy either. I was so focused on proving myself that I might’ve taken some things personally.” She paused, letting out a breath. “Maybe we’re both just stubborn.”
Patri let out a small laugh. “Understatement of the year.”
They shared a quiet smile, the air between them lighter than it had ever been. For the first time, it felt like the walls were down, just a little.
“So… friends?” Y/N asked tentatively, holding out her hand.
Patri looked at it for a moment before taking it, shaking firmly. “Friends.”
As they walked back to meet up with the rest of the team, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of relief. Things wouldn’t be perfect overnight, but it was a start—a start she hadn’t thought was possible.
Since their peace talk, things had changed between Y/N and Patri. There was still the occasional competitive spark during training, but it no longer carried that biting edge. Instead, it had turned into something warmer—a friendly rivalry. And with each passing day, the two grew closer, surprising even themselves.
Today, they were the last two on the training ground, having decided to stay back for a little extra practice. Patri had been helping Y/N work on her volleys, and Y/N was determined to master them before calling it a day. Patri tossed another ball her way, and Y/N leapt up, making clean contact as it soared straight into the top corner.
“Yes!” Y/N pumped her fist, and Patri broke into a grin.
“Alright, alright, I guess you’re finally getting it,” Patri teased, smirking as she grabbed another ball. “Still not as clean as mine, though.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, grabbing the ball from her and positioning it at her feet. “Oh, is that right? Then let’s see who can hit the crossbar the most from the edge of the box. Loser buys post-training smoothies.”
Patri raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. “You’re on.”
The two of them spent the next twenty minutes trying to outdo each other, their laughter echoing around the empty pitch. They each hit the bar a few times, but Patri ultimately edged out the win, prompting a begrudging eye-roll from Y/N.
“Fine, fine. Smoothies on me,” Y/N conceded, slinging an arm over Patri’s shoulders as they headed toward the locker room. “You’re lucky I’m generous.”
Patri laughed, leaning into Y/N’s playful half-hug. “You call that generosity? I’d say it’s just good sportsmanship after losing.”
On their way to the cafe, they continued to banter, the light-heartedness between them flowing effortlessly. They’d gone from barely speaking to having inside jokes and sharing playlists, both of them now each other’s go-to for venting about training, tactics, and everything in between.
When they finally arrived at the cafe, Y/N ordered two smoothies, adding extra protein to Patri’s just because she knew she liked it that way. They settled into a corner booth, the atmosphere warm and easy as they sipped their drinks.
“So,” Patri began, leaning back in her chair, “I heard you have this ridiculous pre-game superstition where you refuse to touch the grass until you’ve done three high-knees on the sidelines. Is that true?”
Y/N choked on her drink, her face heating up. “Who told you that?”
Patri smirked, raising her eyebrows innocently. “Let’s just say I have my sources.”
Y/N groaned, laughing in spite of herself. “Okay, yeah, it’s true. It started as a joke, but now I can’t seem to break the habit. And it’s not ridiculous! It’s effective.”
Patri snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind next time you’re being a stickler about the team’s warm-up routines.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, sipping their smoothies as they watched people pass by outside. For a moment, it struck Y/N just how strange—and good—it felt to be here, relaxed and genuinely happy with someone she’d once thought she’d never get along with.
“You know,” Y/N said, glancing at Patri, “I never thought we’d actually be friends. I always figured you’d just… I don’t know, hate me forever.”
Patri’s expression softened, and she gave a small shrug. “I didn’t hate you. I just… I don’t know, I think I was intimidated by you at first. It was easier to act distant than to admit that.” She gave a small smile. “Guess that backfired, huh?”
Y/N chuckled, nodding. “Big time. But I’m glad we got past it. I could get used to this.”
Patri grinned, reaching over to give Y/N’s hand a light punch. “Same. Besides, who else would keep up with my ridiculous training ideas?”
They both laughed, and in that moment, any lingering tension between them dissolved entirely. They finished their smoothies, making plans to meet up later with some teammates for a movie night, both feeling a newfound ease they hadn’t known was possible.
For the first time, they weren’t just teammates—they were friends, and it felt right.
Ever since Y/N and Patri had buried the hatchet, they’d become almost inseparable—and to their teammates, endlessly entertaining. Whether they were pulling pranks or challenging each other to the most random games, they always found ways to keep things lively. Today, they were in rare form.
It all started with Patri hiding Y/N’s left boot before training. Y/N was notorious for being slightly scatterbrained, so when she couldn’t find her boot, the locker room was instantly filled with laughter.
“Alright, who’s got it?” Y/N called out, looking around suspiciously. She zeroed in on Patri, who had a barely-contained smirk on her face.
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Patri said, not even looking up as she tied her own boots.
Y/N narrowed her eyes, pretending to consider. “Fine. Guess I’ll just wear one shoe and look ridiculous. But if Coach asks, I’ll tell her it was your idea.”
The threat must have done the trick because Patri burst into laughter, finally producing the missing boot from her locker. “Oh, you’re too easy to mess with.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, grinning as she grabbed the boot. “Just wait. I’ll get you back.”
During their water break, Y/N and Patri started chatting with a few of the international players, who were trying to learn Spanish. Patri, always the instigator, decided it would be funny to “help” Y/N with her Spanish—by giving her hilariously wrong translations.
“Okay, Y/N,” Patri said, trying to keep a straight face. “If you want to ask, ‘Where’s my bottle ?’ you say, "aixequeu-vos porcs mandrosos"
’”
Y/N squinted, suspicious. “That… that doesn’t sound right.”
Patri raised her eyebrows, feigning innocence. “Oh, come on. I’m practically your Spanish teacher at this point. Trust me.”
Rolling her eyes, Y/N walked over to Mapi León, who’d just joined them, and decided to give it a try. “Hey, Mapi, aixequeu-vos porcs mandrosos.”
Mapi gave her an incredulous look before bursting into laughter, clutching her stomach. “You just told me to, 'get up you lazy pig'”
Y/N turned around to see Patri, who was doubled over in silent laughter. Realizing she’d been played, Y/N crossed her arms, trying to look annoyed, but couldn’t hold back a laugh of her own. “Alright, fine. That was pretty good.”
Later that week, the team gathered at a local restaurant for a bonding dinner, and somehow, Y/N and Patri ended up seated next to each other. They couldn’t resist a little friendly competition, challenging each other to try the spiciest things on the menu.
“Alright,” Patri said, pointing to a dish labeled ‘Extra Picante,’ “If you eat this without flinching, I’ll pay for your dinner.”
Y/N grinned, scooping a large bite. “Easy.”
But as soon as she swallowed, her eyes went wide. Her face turned red, and she started fanning her mouth, trying not to cry from the heat. Patri, trying to be supportive but barely holding back laughter, handed her a glass of water.
“Not so easy, huh?” Patri teased as Y/N gasped, “That is lava!”
Despite her best efforts, Y/N ended up sputtering and had to chug two more glasses of water, while Patri leaned back, victorious.
Y/N wasn’t exactly sure when it happened. One minute, Patri was just her teammate, her friend—the person she could rely on for laughs, pranks, and post-training smoothies. And then, out of nowhere, something shifted.
It was a Wednesday afternoon, and the team was in the middle of a grueling training session. The kind of practice that left everyone soaked in sweat, gasping for breath, and desperate for the final whistle. But Patri, as always, was relentless. Y/N found herself watching the way Patri moved, her footwork sharp and focused as she weaved between cones with an effortless ease.
She tried to shake off the thoughts creeping in. Focus, Y/N, she told herself, but her eyes kept drifting to where Patri was, smiling mid-sprint as she overtook her teammates.
When Patri glanced her way and caught her staring, Y/N’s heart stuttered. She gave a quick, awkward wave, playing it off like she’d just happened to look her way. Patri waved back with that easy grin of hers, looking slightly amused, and Y/N quickly turned her focus to the drills in front of her. No big deal, she thought, but her cheeks felt a little warmer than usual.
That night, Y/N couldn’t sleep. The memory of Patri’s smile kept creeping back in her mind, annoyingly persistent. After tossing and turning, she gave up and wandered out to the team lounge, hoping a cup of tea might help settle her restlessness.
She was surprised to find the room already occupied—by Patri, sprawled comfortably on the couch with a blanket, flipping through a magazine. When Patri saw her, she smiled and scooted over, patting the empty space beside her.
“Can’t sleep either?” Patri asked.
Y/N nodded, settling down next to her. They sat in a companionable silence for a few minutes, sipping tea and flipping through the magazine, pointing out ridiculous outfits and trying to guess the lives of people in the pictures.
Somewhere between the laughter and the shared jokes, Y/N noticed the way Patri’s eyes sparkled when she laughed, and how the lines of her face softened in the dim light. For the first time, she felt a strange flutter in her chest—a feeling she couldn’t quite place.
When Patri glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow as if to say, “What’s on your mind?” Y/N quickly looked away, pretending to be absorbed in an article.
A few days later, they had a friendly match, and Y/N was in the zone, dodging defenders and pushing upfield with the ball at her feet. She was about to take the shot herself when she caught sight of Patri just outside the box, waving her arms and perfectly positioned.
Trusting her instincts, Y/N passed the ball at the last second. Patri didn’t hesitate, slotting it neatly into the net with a deft touch. The team erupted into cheers, and Y/N ran over, grinning wide as they high-fived.
“Nice pass!” Patri said, breathless and laughing, eyes alight with exhilaration.
Y/N couldn’t stop smiling as she looked at her. “Nice finish,” she replied, heart hammering a little too fast. They shared a moment, caught up in the energy, and for a split second, Y/N felt something shift between them.
Later that week, during a post-training stretch, Y/N and Patri found themselves side by side, leaning over to touch their toes. They started joking around, challenging each other to balance on one foot, which of course turned into a ridiculous game of who could hold the silliest pose.
In one overly ambitious attempt to stretch higher, Y/N lost her balance and stumbled, falling into Patri’s side. Laughing, she tried to catch herself, only for Patri to instinctively reach out, steadying her with both hands.
They froze, faces close, Y/N’s hands resting on Patri’s shoulders. For a long, breathless moment, the world felt very still.
When Y/N finally managed to pull back, she gave a nervous laugh, brushing off the moment. “Guess I’m a little too clumsy for yoga.”
But Patri’s gaze lingered, a little softer than usual. “Guess that’s what I’m here for,” she replied, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Y/N didn’t know why her pulse was racing, or why Patri’s smile seemed to leave her feeling dazed. But for the first time, she realized that maybe—just maybe—she was starting to see Patri as more than just a teammate.
And that thought, both exciting and terrifying, stayed with her long after they parted ways.
For days, Y/N had been working up the courage to tell Patri how she felt. The realization that her feelings had grown beyond friendship had taken her by surprise, but the longer she waited, the more it hurt. If she wanted to move forward—whatever that might look like—she knew she had to come clean.
After training, she lingered on the field, waiting for the right moment. She saw Patri talking with some teammates, her laughter carrying on the evening breeze. Y/N’s heart pounded with anticipation and nerves, and when Patri finally walked over to her, she forced herself to stay calm.
“Hey, what’s up?” Patri asked, wiping sweat from her brow, giving Y/N that familiar smile that always made her heart race.
Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I, uh… I was hoping we could talk. Alone?”
Patri’s expression shifted, her smile softening as she looked at Y/N. “Sure,” she said, nodding, leading them to a quieter corner of the training grounds.
Y/N’s mouth felt dry as she started. She wasn’t usually the nervous type, but something about Patri made her feel vulnerable in a way she’d never felt before.
“Listen, I… I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now,” Y/N began, looking down and then forcing herself to meet Patri’s eyes. “I know we’re friends, and I don’t want to mess that up, but I—” she swallowed, steadying her voice, “I think I’m falling for you.”
For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them. Patri’s face fell slightly, her expression a mix of surprise and something that Y/N couldn’t quite place. Y/N could already feel her chest tightening, a sinking feeling forming in her stomach.
“Oh, Y/N,” Patri said quietly, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I… I didn’t know you felt that way. I really didn’t.” She paused, eyes filled with an unmistakable sadness. “But I’m actually… I’m seeing someone.”
The words hit Y/N like a wave, and she felt the ground slip from beneath her. She had hoped for so many things—a chance, a possibility. Anything but this.
“Oh,” she managed, forcing herself to keep her composure. “I didn’t know. I guess I should’ve asked before saying anything.”
Patri looked at her with such tenderness, as if she could feel every ounce of hurt Y/N was experiencing. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. If I’d known… maybe things would’ve been different. But we’re together now, and it’s serious.”
Y/N nodded, swallowing hard, trying to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over. “No, I get it. I shouldn’t have put you in this position.” She tried to smile, to make it easier for both of them. “I’m really happy for you, Patri. You deserve the best.”
They stood there, the air heavy with unsaid words and impossible what-ifs. Patri squeezed her shoulder gently, her eyes reflecting genuine sympathy and regret.
“You’re an amazing person, Y/N. I don’t want this to change anything between us. I hope… I hope we can still be friends.”
Y/N took a deep breath, nodding as she forced a smile. “Of course. Friends.”
The word felt hollow, but Y/N was determined to keep her promise. If that’s all they could be, she would accept it, even if it left her heart aching.
As they walked off the field together, she kept her smile in place, but the weight of unspoken feelings lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what could never be.
Since the night she’d bared her heart to Patri, Y/N felt like something inside her had fractured. It wasn’t just the rejection—it was the lingering embarrassment, the feeling that she’d exposed too much of herself, and now, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t take it back.
So she did the only thing she knew how to do: she pulled away.
It started small. During training sessions, Y/N found herself taking up positions on the opposite side of the field from Patri, drifting farther and farther away as though there were an invisible line she couldn’t cross. When they were paired up in drills, she made herself seem too busy to engage in their usual banter, keeping the interactions strictly professional and avoiding eye contact.
One day, while working on a passing drill, Patri finally noticed.
“Hey, Y/N,” she called, motioning for her to pass the ball.
Y/N kicked it over, a little too quickly, too sharply. Patri caught it with a frown, her eyes following Y/N as she ran off before Patri could say anything more.
And then, a few minutes later, Patri found herself alone, looking around the field and realizing that Y/N had somehow managed to move across the pitch without her noticing. A part of her started to ache with the realization.
It didn’t take long for Patri to notice Y/N’s absence outside training, too. The once-frequent movie nights, gym sessions, and late-night talks in the team lounge had vanished. Y/N would show up to the locker room later than usual, leave as quickly as she could, and disappear without so much as a backward glance.
One evening after practice, as everyone else packed up, Patri decided she couldn’t ignore it any longer. She spotted Y/N across the locker room, stuffing her things into her bag with a bit too much urgency.
“Hey, Y/N,” Patri called, keeping her tone light.
Y/N paused, looking up only briefly before averting her gaze. “Hey, Patri. Uh, got somewhere to be, so…”
Patri’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’ve had ‘somewhere to be’ for the past week.”
Y/N forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to her. “Just, you know… busy.”
With a sad smile, Patri took a step closer, softening her voice. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this.”
“Do what?” Y/N asked, keeping her eyes fixed on her bag.
“Act like I don’t exist,” Patri said gently. “I know things might be awkward, but… we’re still friends, right?”
Y/N’s jaw tightened, but she kept her tone even. “Yeah, of course. I just… need a bit of space, you know?”
Patri’s face fell, her eyes filled with understanding and regret. She nodded, not wanting to push any further. “Alright. Take all the time you need.”
Y/N nodded back, her throat feeling tight as she grabbed her bag and quickly walked out. As soon as she was out of sight, she let out a shaky breath. This is for the best, she thought, but the words didn’t comfort her.
The following week, the rest of the team began to notice the gap between Y/N and Patri. They’d once been nearly inseparable, the pair known for their pranks and inside jokes. Now, there was a silent, almost painful distance between them.
During a team dinner, Y/N sat at one end of the table, laughing along with a few other teammates, but her laugh didn’t quite reach her eyes. Patri sat a few seats down, her gaze lingering on Y/N with a mixture of sadness and confusion.
Pina, who was sitting next to Patri, leaned over and whispered, “What’s going on with you two? You used to be glued at the hip.”
Patri sighed, forcing a small smile. “It’s… complicated.”
Across the table, Y/N overheard the exchange and felt a pang in her chest. She excused herself and went to the restroom, splashing cold water on her face. She didn’t know how to fix this without reopening the wound. The feelings she’d tried to bury were still fresh, and every time she saw Patri, it only reminded her of what she couldn’t have.
As she returned to the table, Patri’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, Y/N thought about telling her everything, explaining why she needed distance. But then the moment passed, and she looked away, her resolve strengthening.
After the team dinner, Y/N decided to walk home instead of catching a ride with her teammates. She needed the air, the silence, anything to clear her mind. But just as she reached the street corner, she heard footsteps behind her.
“Y/N, wait!” Patri called, jogging to catch up with her.
Y/N tensed, stuffing her hands into her pockets and keeping her gaze fixed on the pavement. “Patri, I really need—”
“A bit of space, yeah, I know,” Patri interrupted gently. “But I just… I miss you. And I can’t just stand by and watch you fade away.”
Y/N looked up at her, eyes wide, caught off-guard by the raw emotion in Patri’s voice. Her walls started to crumble, and she could feel her emotions bubbling to the surface.
“I’m sorry, Patri,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I’m trying to be okay with just being friends, but it’s… it’s harder than I thought. Every time I see you, it just hurts.”
Patri’s face softened, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Y/N… I never meant to hurt you. I wish things could be different.”
Y/N nodded, blinking back the sting of tears. “Me too. But right now, I just need time to figure things out.”
Patri reached out, hesitating before pulling her hand back, sensing Y/N’s need for distance. “Okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Take as much time as you need. Just… don’t disappear completely, alright?”
Y/N gave a small, sad smile. “I’ll try.”
They stood there, caught in a moment of lingering hurt and unsaid words, before Y/N turned and continued down the street. Patri watched her go, feeling the ache of the growing distance but knowing that, for now, it was something she had to accept.
Y/N had spent the past few weeks feeling like she was wading through a thick fog of emotions. After distancing herself from Patri, she needed a change of scenery, and a coffee shop outing with Mapi and Ingrid seemed like the perfect distraction.
The café was cozy, filled with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the gentle hum of conversation. Mapi and Ingrid were already seated at a corner table, animatedly discussing the latest gossip about their teammates when Y/N arrived. The warm atmosphere wrapped around her like a comforting blanket.
“Y/N!” Mapi called out, waving her over. “Finally! We were about to send a search party!”
Y/N chuckled as she joined them, taking a seat and letting out a sigh of relief. “Sorry! I lost track of time. The training session was brutal today.”
Ingrid raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Or you were just daydreaming about someone?”
“Shut up,” Y/N replied, rolling her eyes but feeling a faint blush creep up her cheeks.
As they sipped their coffees and chatted, Y/N noticed a girl sitting at the table across from them. She had curly hair and an easy smile, her laughter spilling into the air like sunshine. Y/N found herself stealing glances, captivated by the girl’s infectious energy.
“Wow, look at you! You’re totally staring,” Mapi teased, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “She’s cute, huh?”
Ingrid followed Y/N’s gaze and grinned. “Go talk to her! You need to get over Patri. A little fun never hurt anyone.”
Y/N felt her heart race at the idea. “I don’t know, guys. What if she’s not interested?”
“Who cares? What’s the worst that could happen?” Mapi urged, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Just go for it! You’ll never know unless you try.”
With a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling in her stomach, Y/N took a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
Gathering her courage, Y/N stood up, smoothing her shirt as she approached the girl’s table. She could feel Mapi and Ingrid’s supportive eyes on her, urging her on.
“Hey,” Y/N said, trying to sound casual. “I couldn’t help but notice your smile from across the room. I’m Y/N.”
The girl looked up, surprise turning into a warm smile. “Hey! I’m Sara. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Y/N replied, feeling a flutter in her chest. “Do you come here often?”
Sara chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “Not really. I’m usually stuck in the library, but I needed a break. How about you?”
“Same. I’m just trying to escape from my daily routine,” Y/N said, glancing back at Mapi and Ingrid, who were both giving her thumbs up.
“Seems like a good place to do that,” Sara said, her smile widening. “The coffee here is amazing.”
Y/N nodded, her nerves starting to fade as the conversation flowed. They chatted about their favorite coffee blends, sports, and even the challenges of being an athlete. Y/N felt a genuine connection growing between them, the conversation feeling natural and easy.
After a while, Y/N felt bold enough to suggest something more. “So, um, would you want to grab coffee again sometime? Like, maybe on a proper date?”
Sara’s eyes lit up, and Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. “I’d love that! I’m always up for more coffee and good company.”
“Great! How about this weekend?” Y/N asked, her pulse quickening with anticipation.
“Sounds perfect!” Sara replied, her smile infectious.
Y/N walked back to Mapi and Ingrid, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. “I asked her out! We’re going on a date!”
Ingrid jumped up, wrapping Y/N in a tight hug. “Yes! This is amazing!”
Mapi grinned, her eyes shining with pride. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Not at all,” Y/N said, her heart soaring. “She’s really cool.”
The date went better than Y/N could have imagined. They met at a local park, where they walked, talked, and laughed, sharing stories that revealed glimpses of their lives and personalities. Sara’s humor and passion for life pulled Y/N in, making her feel alive in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, Y/N knew she wanted to see Sara again. They ended their date with ice cream, sitting on a bench as they shared their favorite flavors and playful banter.
“You know,” Y/N said, licking her cone, “I’m really glad I came over to talk to you. You’ve made this week so much better.”
Sara smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I feel the same way. I was a little nervous when you approached me, but now… I’m really glad you did.”
Y/N hesitated for a moment, her heart racing. “Can I ask you out again? Like, a second date?”
“Absolutely!” Sara replied, her excitement evident. “I’d love that.”
Y/N felt a warmth spreading through her chest, the fluttering of hope blossoming where pain had once been. For the first time in a long while, she was genuinely excited about what was to come.
As they exchanged numbers and made plans for their next date, Y/N couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something beautiful.
The post-game atmosphere was electric. After a hard-fought match, Barcelona had secured a convincing victory, and the team was buzzing with excitement. Laughter and cheers filled the locker room as players celebrated their success, slapping backs and exchanging playful jabs.
Y/N had felt the weight of her worries lift during the game, her heart racing not just from the adrenaline of the match but from knowing that she would soon introduce Sara to her teammates. After their date and the connection they’d built, it felt right to let everyone in on this new part of her life.
As the team gathered in the lounge to plan their night out, Mapi caught Y/N’s eye. “Are you ready for tonight?” she asked, a knowing grin spreading across her face.
Y/N took a deep breath, a mix of excitement and nerves coursing through her. “Yeah, I think so. I’m just… a little anxious about introducing Sara.”
“You’ve got this!” Ingrid chimed in, giving Y/N an encouraging nudge. “She’s amazing, and they’ll love her!”
Just then, the door swung open, and Sara walked in, her bright smile illuminating the room. She looked effortlessly beautiful, dressed in a casual yet stylish outfit. Y/N felt her heart flutter at the sight of her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
“Hey!” Y/N called out, waving her over.
Sara approached, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Hey! I hope I’m not too late!”
“Not at all,” Y/N replied, feeling a rush of warmth as she took Sara’s hand. “We were just about to head out to celebrate the win.”
The team began to gather around, curious expressions on their faces. Mapi and Ingrid exchanged glances, clearly excited for the moment.
“Alright, everyone, listen up!” Y/N said, her voice slightly shaky but gaining confidence. “I want you all to meet someone really special to me. This is Sara—my girlfriend.”
The room went quiet for a moment, and then an eruption of cheers and applause filled the space.
“Y/N has a girlfriend!” Mapi shouted, grinning widely. “About time!”
Ingrid winked at Y/N. “You’ve been holding out on us!”
Sara’s cheeks flushed a light pink as she smiled at the enthusiastic reception. “Hi, everyone! It’s so great to finally meet you all.”
The team immediately began to swarm around Sara, bombarding her with questions and welcoming her with open arms. Y/N watched with a mix of pride and relief, feeling grateful for the warmth and acceptance of her teammates.
As the night wore on, the team headed to a local bar, the energy infectious. Y/N and Sara settled at a table with Mapi, Ingrid, and a few other teammates.
“So, how did you two meet?” one of the players asked, leaning in with curiosity.
Y/N smiled, glancing at Sara. “We met at a coffee shop. I was hanging out with Mapi and Ingrid, and they convinced me to talk to her.”
Sara laughed, recalling the moment. “I thought she was really cool, but I didn’t know she was so nervous to come over! She’s a natural.”
“Definitely not the impression I got on the field!” Ingrid chimed in, raising her glass. “Y/N is a beast out there!”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Mapi added, winking at Y/N. “She’s just as charming off the pitch.”
Y/N felt her heart swell with happiness, both from the compliments and the feeling of belonging. As the conversations flowed, she watched Sara engage with her teammates, effortlessly fitting into the dynamic.
After a while, Y/N felt a sense of ease wash over her. They joked, shared stories, and clinked glasses in celebration. The atmosphere felt warm and inviting, making Y/N realize how much she wanted this moment to last.
As the night progressed, the team decided to make a toast to their victory and to Y/N and Sara’s new relationship. Mapi stood up, raising her glass high.
“Here’s to a great win and to Y/N and Sara! May you two be as unstoppable off the pitch as we are on it!”
Everyone joined in, raising their glasses and cheering. “To Y/N and Sara!”
Sara smiled at Y/N, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “I can’t believe how welcoming everyone is. This is amazing!”
Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest, knowing that she had made the right choice in introducing Sara to her teammates. “I’m so glad you’re here with me tonight,” she said softly, squeezing Sara’s hand.
Sara leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Me too. I’ve had such a great time getting to know everyone.”
As the night continued, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope for what lay ahead. She had taken a leap, opened her heart again, and found someone who made her feel alive and accepted.
Later, when they stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, Y/N turned to Sara, her heart racing. “So, what do you think of my team?”
“They’re fantastic! You must be so proud to be a part of it,” Sara replied, her smile infectious.
“I am,” Y/N said, her expression earnest. “But I’m even more grateful for you.”
Sara blushed at the compliment, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “I’m lucky to have you.”
As they stood under the stars, the cool night air surrounding them, Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of joy. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Sara’s lips, a spark igniting between them.
“I’m really glad you’re in my life,” Y/N murmured, feeling a wave of emotion.
“Me too,” Sara replied, her voice warm and sincere. “This is just the beginning, right?”
“Definitely,” Y/N agreed, her heart swelling with hope for their future together.
With a smile, they walked back inside, hand in hand, ready to embrace whatever adventures awaited them.
---
Patri sat at the bar, her drink untouched, lost in thought as the team celebrated their hard-fought victory. The atmosphere was electric, laughter and cheers ringing in her ears, but her mind was elsewhere. She had just seen Y/N enter the bar with a girl who looked completely at ease, and for reasons she couldn’t quite understand, a knot of unease twisted in her stomach.
“Are you going to drink that or just stare at it?” one of her teammates joked, snapping Patri out of her thoughts.
“Yeah, just thinking,” she replied, forcing a smile.
Moments later, she caught sight of Y/N standing on a chair, raising her voice to grab the team's attention. Patri’s heart raced as she watched Y/N, her hair slightly tousled from the celebration, her smile bright and inviting. It was the same smile that had once drawn Patri in, back when they had shared their own moments of camaraderie and laughter.
“Everyone, I want you all to meet someone really special to me! This is Sara—my girlfriend!” Y/N’s voice rang clear, filled with excitement.
Patri’s heart sank. Girlfriend? The word echoed in her mind, leaving a bitter taste. She felt the weight of confusion settle over her. Why did it hurt so much to hear Y/N say that?
The room erupted into cheers, but all Patri could hear was the pounding of her heart. She forced herself to look away, but her eyes betrayed her, glancing back at Y/N and Sara as they embraced the enthusiastic welcome from the team. Sara looked happy, radiant even, and Y/N’s face was lit with joy. It made Patri feel as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet.
As the celebrations continued, Patri tried to drown her feelings in the loud chatter and clinking of glasses around her, but it was no use. Every laugh from Y/N, every playful banter exchanged with Sara, stung like a sharp jab to her chest.
“What’s wrong?” Mapi asked, sliding onto the stool beside her, noticing the distant look in Patri’s eyes.
“Nothing,” Patri muttered, forcing a smile. “Just… surprised.”
“Surprised? You sound more upset than surprised,” Mapi said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?”
“Jealous? No!” Patri snapped, perhaps a bit too defensively. “Why would I be jealous?”
Mapi gave her a knowing look. “I don’t know, maybe because you had a thing for Y/N?”
“I didn’t have a ‘thing’ for her!” Patri insisted, crossing her arms tightly. But even as she said it, doubt crept in. Had she?
The truth was, ever since Y/N had started distancing herself after their falling out, Patri had felt a strange void. She missed the camaraderie they once shared, and more than that, she missed the connection—the undeniable spark that had flickered between them.
“I just… I don’t know,” Patri finally admitted, her voice softer. “I didn’t think she’d move on so quickly. I thought… maybe we could work things out.”
“Do you want to?” Mapi pressed gently.
Patri opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss. The thought of Y/N being with someone else hurt more than she’d expected. “I don’t know,” she repeated, frustration creeping into her voice. “One minute, I’m angry at her, and the next, I’m wishing things were different. And now I see her with someone else, and it just—”
“Hurts?” Mapi suggested, her tone understanding.
“Yes! It hurts,” Patri admitted, rubbing her temples in frustration. “I’m confused, Mapi. I don’t know what I feel anymore.”
As the night continued, Patri found herself unable to enjoy the festivities. Instead, she sat at the bar, watching Y/N and Sara laugh together, a feeling of resentment bubbling beneath the surface.
Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore. Driven by a mix of frustration and a need for clarity, she stood up and made her way toward Y/N and Sara. The laughter faded as she approached, and Y/N turned, her expression shifting from joy to surprise.
“Hey, Patri! What’s up?” Y/N asked, her smile genuine.
Patri opened her mouth, ready to say something, but all she could think about was how much she missed Y/N. “Can we talk?” she blurted out, her tone sharper than she intended.
“Uh, sure,” Y/N replied, glancing at Sara, who offered an encouraging nod.
They stepped away from the group, and Patri took a breath, her heart racing. “Look, I just wanted to say congratulations. I didn’t expect this, and I’m… happy for you.”
Y/N’s expression softened. “Thanks, Patri. I really like her.”
“But why now? I thought… we had something,” Patri blurted out, her voice trembling slightly. “I thought we were figuring things out.”
Y/N hesitated, her eyes searching Patri’s. “I thought so too, but after everything that happened… I didn’t know where we stood. It hurt to feel like I was losing you.”
Patri’s chest tightened at the honesty in Y/N’s words. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I just—”
“Didn’t know how to feel?” Y/N finished for her, understanding dawning in her eyes.
“Exactly,” Patri admitted, her frustration melting into something softer. “I still don’t know how to feel about any of this.”
Y/N looked down for a moment, then stepped closer, her voice low. “I care about you, Patri. But I also care about Sara. I didn’t want to rush into anything, but she makes me happy.”
“I just wish I could’ve been the one to make you happy,” Patri said, her heart aching with a mix of longing and regret.
Y/N’s gaze was steady. “You still can be. I want us to be friends again, but I understand if you need time.”
Patri nodded, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on her shoulders. “I think I need time,” she admitted, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice. “I don’t want to feel like this, but I can’t help it.”
“I get it,” Y/N said softly. “Just know I’m here, no matter what.”
As they stood there, an unspoken understanding passing between them, Patri felt a sense of hope flicker within her, even amidst the confusion. It was complicated, but perhaps, in time, they could find a way back to each other—whatever that might look like.
---
The soft murmur of coffee shop chatter surrounded Y/N as she sat across from Sara, the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping them. It was one of those cozy afternoons where the world outside felt distant, and for Y/N, being with Sara felt like a breath of fresh air.
As they sipped their drinks, Sara looked at Y/N with a blend of curiosity and concern. “You’ve been a bit distant lately. Is everything okay?”
Y/N hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. The truth about her feelings for Patri weighed heavily on her mind, and she knew she couldn’t keep it from Sara any longer. “Actually, there’s something I need to tell you,” she began, her voice steady yet filled with uncertainty.
“What is it?” Sara asked, leaning in slightly, her attention fully on Y/N.
“It’s about Patri,” Y/N admitted, the name lingering in the air between them. “She’s… complicated. We have history.”
“Complicated how?” Sara prodded gently, a hint of tension rising in her tone.
Y/N took a deep breath, deciding to lay it all bare. “We were friends first, and then there were moments where it felt like it could be something more. But we had a falling out, and now she’s seeing me with you, and it’s all just… confusing.”
Sara’s expression shifted, a flicker of jealousy crossing her features. “Confusing how? Do you still have feelings for her?”
“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, frustration creeping into her voice. “I thought I was over it, but seeing her again… it brought back memories. Good ones. But then I realized I really like you, too. You make me happy, Sara.”
“Y/N,” Sara said, her tone suddenly serious. “I need you to be honest with me. Do you want to be with me, or do you want to be with her?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and palpable. Y/N’s heart raced as she felt the weight of Sara’s gaze on her. “I want to be with you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to hurt Patri. She’s been a big part of my life.”
“Sometimes you have to choose,” Sara replied, her eyes narrowing slightly, a hint of challenge in her voice. “If you’re serious about us, you need to cut ties with her. It’s not fair to either of us if you keep her in your life while trying to be with me.”
Y/N felt a pang of guilt wash over her. “I understand that, but it’s not that simple. We’ve known each other for so long, and I don’t want to lose her completely.”
“Do you think she’ll step aside if you’re not completely invested in this?” Sara pressed, her expression firm. “If you keep her around, it’ll always be an open door for you both. You deserve to be happy without that lingering uncertainty.”
Y/N looked down at her coffee, swirling the dark liquid with her spoon, her thoughts racing. “But what if I hurt her? What if she gets upset?”
“Then she’ll have to deal with it,” Sara said, her voice softening. “You have to prioritize your happiness. I’m not saying you should be cruel, but you need to be honest with both of you.”
Taking a deep breath, Y/N realized the truth in Sara’s words. “You’re right. I can’t keep dragging this out. I do want to be with you, but it means I have to let go of Patri for good.”
“Exactly,” Sara affirmed, reaching across the table to hold Y/N’s hand. “I’m glad you’re realizing that. It means you’re choosing me, and I appreciate your honesty.”
Y/N felt a mixture of fear and relief wash over her. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll make it clear that I’m with you now.”
Sara smiled, but there was still a hint of concern in her eyes. “Just remember, it’s not going to be easy. She might not take it well, and that’s okay. You have to do what’s best for you.”
“Yeah, I understand,” Y/N replied, squeezing Sara’s hand, feeling a surge of determination. “I’ll make it right. I don’t want to lose you.”
With a newfound clarity, Y/N knew what she had to do. As they finished their drinks, she felt a sense of resolve building within her. Yes, it would be difficult to face Patri, but it was time to take that step—time to choose a future with Sara.
Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/N found herself pacing in her apartment, her mind racing with the upcoming conversation. The thought of facing Patri filled her with anxiety, but she steeled herself for what lay ahead.
She took a moment to gather her thoughts, reminding herself why this was necessary. She picked up her phone and typed a quick message to Patri, asking her to meet up. She felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach as she hit send, knowing the weight of the conversation that awaited them.
When the reply came through, it was quick and simple:
“Sure, when and where?”
Y/N took a deep breath and responded with a time and place—a small park near their training facility where they often hung out. It felt neutral, a space where they could talk without distractions.
As Y/N arrived at the park, she spotted Patri sitting on a bench, her expression unreadable. Patri looked up as Y/N approached, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Hey,” Y/N said, her voice steady but filled with apprehension.
“Hey,” Patri replied, her tone cautious. “What’s going on? You sounded serious in your message.”
Y/N sat down, feeling the weight of the moment settle between them. “I wanted to talk about us—about everything that’s been happening.”
Patri’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Y/N could see the tension radiating from her. “Okay… what about it?”
Taking a deep breath, Y/N gathered her courage. “I’ve started dating Sara, and I need you to know that it’s serious.”
Patri’s expression fell, and Y/N felt her heart ache at the disappointment in her eyes. “So that’s it? You’re just moving on?”
“It’s not that simple,” Y/N rushed to explain. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I’ve been spending time with Sara, and we’ve really connected. I want to be with her.”
Silence stretched between them, and Y/N could see the internal struggle etched on Patri’s face. “But i thought we had something special, Y/N. You're my best friend. You can’t just throw that away.”
“I know,” Y/N said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ve realized that I need to be honest with myself and with you. I can’t keep you in my life while trying to build something new with Sara. It’s not fair to any of us.”
Patri looked down, her jaw clenching as she absorbed the weight of Y/N’s words. “So what are you saying? That we’re done?”
Y/N nodded, her throat tightening. “I think it’s best if we cut ties. I don’t want to hurt you, but I need to move forward.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The reality of the situation hung heavy in the air, and Y/N could feel the tension crackling between them.
Finally, Patri looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, her heart breaking at the sight of Patri’s pain. “I never wanted to hurt you. You mean so much to me, but I need to prioritize my happiness.”
Patri took a shaky breath, her expression a mixture of hurt and anger. “I just thought… I thought maybe we'd someday get a chance.”
“Maybe we would have, but it didn’t work out that way,” Y/N replied, her voice steady but gentle. “You deserve someone who can give you everything, not someone who’s torn between two paths.”
After a long silence, Patri finally nodded, her shoulders slumping. “I get it. I guess I just have to accept it.”
Y/N reached out, placing a comforting hand on Patri’s arm. “I’ll always care about you. You were my friend first, and I’ll always cherish that.”
Patri’s gaze dropped to the ground, and for a moment, Y/N felt as if they were both standing at a crossroads, the past slipping away like sand through their fingers.
“Just… don’t forget me,” Patri murmured, her voice barely audible.
“I could never forget you,” Y/N replied, her heart aching. “You’ve meant so much to me.”
As they sat in silence, the weight of their history pressed upon them, but Y/N felt a flicker of hope. She had made her choice, and though it hurt to say goodbye, she knew it was time to embrace her future with Sara.
After a grueling training session, Y/N plopped down on the bench beside Alexia, sweat dripping from her brow as she guzzled water. The team was cooling down, but today’s session felt especially intense. Alexia noticed the slump in Y/N’s posture and gave her a friendly nudge.
“You okay?” she asked, brow furrowing in concern. “You’ve seemed… a bit off lately.”
Y/N managed a weak smile. “Just tired, I think. It’s been a long week.”
Alexia nodded, glancing away for a moment before leaning back toward her. “Is everything good with Sara? I’ve noticed you’ve been a little distracted since you two got together.”
Y/N shrugged, keeping her eyes down. “Yeah, it’s just… you know, she’s really involved. She cares a lot.”
It was true—Sara had an intensity to her that Y/N found endearing at first. But lately, it had become more than just attentiveness. There was a constant need to check in, to know her schedule, to hear from her the second training ended. Even during team outings, Sara would text or call, and if Y/N missed the call, there would be a flood of messages asking where she was.
Just then, her phone buzzed, and Y/N instinctively reached for it. Sure enough, it was Sara.
Where are you?
Did practice end?
Are you going somewhere with the team afterward?
Alexia’s eyes flicked down to the screen, noticing the string of messages lighting up. “Is that her?”
Y/N nodded, her face slightly flushed. She typed out a quick response: Just finishing up with the team. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.
Once she sent it, she tried to shove her phone back into her bag, but the buzzing continued. Alexia’s brows knit together as she watched.
“Isn’t that… a bit much?” she ventured cautiously, trying not to pry but clearly concerned.
“She’s just making sure I’m okay,” Y/N mumbled, trying to brush it off. “I think she worries sometimes because of, you know, my past with Patri.”
“Worrying is one thing,” Alexia said gently, “but this seems… intense.”
Before Y/N could respond, Patri came over, catching the last snippet of the conversation. “Intense about what?”
Y/N gave her a look, hesitant to bring Patri into it, but Alexia chimed in. “Sara’s just been a bit… relentless lately, hasn’t she?”
Patri’s gaze flicked to Y/N, concern etched into her expression. “You sure that’s normal?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, feeling defensive. “It’s fine, really. She just cares a lot. Besides, it’s not like she’s telling me what I can or can’t do.”
But as the words left her mouth, she felt a pang of doubt. Over the past few weeks, Sara had made little comments here and there—about which teammates she didn’t like Y/N hanging around too much or the “late” nights Y/N spent with the team after games. Sara would subtly suggest she should be “more focused” and that “some friends aren’t looking out for her the way she does.”
It was always cloaked as concern, never an outright order, but Y/N felt the pressure all the same.
A few days later, the team gathered at a local restaurant to celebrate a recent win. Laughter filled the room as the players shared stories, but Y/N kept glancing at her phone, nerves gnawing at her. Sara had mentioned wanting to spend time with her tonight, and when Y/N told her about the team dinner, she hadn’t exactly been thrilled.
Y/N forced a smile. “Yeah, yeah, just… checking messages.”
Just then, her phone vibrated with another message from Sara: I thought you were coming over after the game? Are you staying out late?
Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples as she replied: I’ll be home soon. Just finishing dinner with the team.
Ingrid, sitting across from Y/N, exchanged a glance with Mapi. “She texting you again?” Ingrid asked, her tone gentle but edged with concern.
“Yeah,” Y/N said with a sigh. “She just… gets anxious when I’m out.”
“Anxious or controlling?” Patri interjected quietly, her tone sharper than she’d intended. She softened when she saw the look on Y/N’s face. “I mean, does she trust you? Because it doesn’t seem like it.”
Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “She does. I think she just… needs reassurance sometimes. It’s probably because of our past conversations about you,” she added, looking directly at Patri. “I don’t think she’s totally comfortable with how close we used to be.”
Patri’s expression softened, but her voice was firm. “That’s no reason to make you feel like you’re walking on eggshells.”
Alexia, who had been listening, nodded in agreement. “She’s got to understand that we’re your team, Y/N. We’re practically family. If she can’t handle that, it’s her issue, not yours.”
Y/N’s phone buzzed again, and this time she didn’t bother to check it. Instead, she looked around the table at her teammates, their expressions filled with worry and protectiveness. For the first time, she felt a glimmer of doubt about her relationship with Sara—a feeling that maybe, just maybe, her teammates had a point.
As the evening wound down, Y/N decided to head home to avoid any further messages from Sara. She waved goodbye to her teammates, but Patri, noticing the slight slump in her shoulders, followed her outside.
“Wait up,” Patri called, catching Y/N just as she reached the curb. “Can we talk for a second?”
Y/N stopped, looking back at her, feeling the tension building in her chest. “What’s up?”
Patri hesitated, but she spoke with sincerity. “I don’t want to overstep, but I’m worried about you. We all are.”
“About me or about Sara?” Y/N asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
Patri shook her head. “About both of you. She’s… it seems like she’s isolating you, Y/N. I don’t want you to lose yourself in a relationship that doesn’t make you feel free.”
Y/N felt a mixture of anger and sadness rise within her. “I thought you’d be happy I finally moved on,” she said softly. “But instead, it feels like everyone’s questioning me.”
“I am happy for you if you’re happy,” Patri replied gently. “But you haven’t been yourself lately. We all see it. Just… don’t let someone control you, okay? You deserve better than that.”
For a moment, Y/N’s resolve wavered. Patri’s words hit close to home, stirring something she had been trying to ignore. “It’s not that simple, Patri,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just want her to trust me.”
Patri placed a comforting hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Then she has to earn that trust, not control you to feel secure. You shouldn’t have to prove yourself all the time.”
Y/N nodded slowly, feeling the weight of Patri’s words settle over her. She realized she had been bending over backward to make Sara feel secure, but in doing so, she had been losing herself. Maybe it was time to have a conversation with Sara—a real, honest conversation about boundaries and trust.
That night, as Y/N sat alone in her apartment, she replayed the evening’s events in her mind. Her teammates’ words echoed in her head, and for the first time, she allowed herself to question her relationship with Sara fully. It was scary to admit, but maybe Patri and the others were right.
The next time Sara called, Y/N didn’t rush to answer. Instead, she took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, preparing herself for a difficult conversation she knew was long overdue.
Y/N took a deep breath, standing in front of her apartment door. She’d been rehearsing the words in her mind for hours, ready to finally confront Sara about how their relationship was affecting her.
When she stepped inside, Sara was already there, pacing anxiously. Her head snapped up when she heard Y/N walk in.
“Finally,” Sara sighed, crossing her arms. “Where were you?”
Y/N felt her stomach clench, but she steadied herself. “I went out with the team, Sara, like I told you I would. We had dinner to celebrate the win.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. “I thought you’d come straight home. I was waiting for you.”
Y/N forced herself to remain calm. “Sara, we need to talk.”
The edge in her voice softened as she gestured for them to sit down. She hoped a calm approach might ease the tension, but Sara stayed standing, arms still crossed tightly across her chest.
“I can’t keep doing this,” Y/N began, trying to sound as steady as possible. “I care about you, but the way things have been lately… it’s not working for me. You’re always questioning me, wanting to know where I am, who I’m with. I need space, and I need you to trust me if we’re going to make this work.”
Sara’s face twisted with a mix of anger and disbelief. “So, what? You think I’m the problem here? That I’m overreacting because I actually care about you?” Her voice grew louder, echoing through the apartment.
Y/N raised her hands, trying to keep things calm. “I’m not saying you don’t care, but this doesn’t feel healthy. I shouldn’t be scared to go out with my teammates without you constantly checking up on me. That’s not fair to me, and it’s not fair to you, either.”
Sara’s face darkened. “So now you think I’m controlling?” she hissed, stepping closer. Her voice was low but laced with anger. “You’re going to sit here and make me out to be the bad guy?”
The tension escalated, and Y/N felt a creeping sense of dread. “Sara, please… I just need you to listen.”
But instead of listening, Sara’s anger boiled over. “After everything I’ve done for you, you want to turn around and leave me?”
She lashed out, shoving Y/N back a step. Shock and fear flared through Y/N, and she stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the table.
“Sara, stop!” she shouted, her voice trembling. “This isn’t okay!”
But Sara wasn’t stopping. Her voice grew louder, her movements sharper, and soon Y/N’s neighbors were knocking on the walls, their concern clear. “You don’t get to tell me what’s okay, Y/N! After everything, you don’t just get to walk away!”
The shouting continued until, finally, Y/N heard a pounding on the door. She could see her neighbors peering in through the crack as she backed away from Sara, her heart pounding in her chest. The next thing she knew, two officers were stepping into the apartment, separating her from Sara.
Mapi, Ingrid, and Alexia were driving back from dinner when they noticed the police lights flashing near Y/N’s apartment. Concern flashed across Alexia’s face as she pulled the car over.
“Isn’t that… Y/N’s building?” Mapi asked, her brow furrowing as she looked at Ingrid and Alexia.
Without another word, the three of them climbed out of the car and walked over, weaving through a small crowd of concerned neighbors. They saw Y/N standing outside, looking visibly shaken, with an officer speaking quietly to her. When she saw her teammates, her expression shifted, relief mixing with embarrassment.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Alexia asked, stepping closer and reaching out for her friend.
Y/N nodded, though her face was pale. “Yeah… I’m okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced toward the building, where Sara was being questioned by another officer. Her voice wavered as she added, “It… it got out of hand.”
Mapi exchanged a worried look with Ingrid. “Did she hurt you?” Ingrid asked, her voice laced with concern.
Y/N shook her head, though her hands trembled as she spoke. “No, it was just… a lot of yelling, and she… she got physical. The neighbors must have called.”
The officer beside Y/N cleared his throat. “We’ll be documenting this incident, Miss Y/L/N. If you feel threatened, you have options, including a restraining order. Just let us know how we can support you.”
Y/N nodded, struggling to keep herself together. She glanced back at Mapi, Ingrid, and Alexia, who were still looking at her with a mixture of concern and protectiveness.
“Come on,” Alexia said softly, wrapping an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “You’re coming home with us tonight.”
Once back at Alexia’s apartment, Y/N collapsed onto the couch, the events of the night catching up to her. She buried her face in her hands, feeling a mix of shame, fear, and sadness. Mapi handed her a glass of water, sitting beside her while Ingrid and Alexia gave her space, letting her process everything.
After a few moments of silence, Y/N finally spoke. “I… I thought I could fix things. I thought if I just explained myself, she’d understand. But she was so angry, and I didn’t know what to do.”
Mapi placed a comforting hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You don’t have to explain yourself to us, okay? What happened tonight wasn’t your fault.”
Y/N looked up, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and relief. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you guys hadn’t shown up.”
Ingrid reached out, squeezing Y/N’s hand gently. “We’re always here for you, no matter what. If you ever need anything, you just have to call.”
Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude as she took in the faces of her friends, their support an unexpected comfort in the aftermath of such a traumatic night.
For the first time in a while, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. With her teammates by her side, she knew she wasn’t alone—and she wouldn’t let anyone make her feel that way again.
The morning light filtered through Y/N’s window, painting soft streaks of warmth across her apartment. She stood in front of her mirror, taking a deep breath. Today was the day she would file the restraining order. It had been a long, difficult journey to this point, and although she felt nervous, she knew it was the right thing to do. The memories of the past few months surfaced in her mind, but she pushed them aside. Today was about moving forward.
The previous night, her teammates had rallied around her, providing support and encouragement. They had assured her that she wasn’t alone, and that thought had given her strength. Even now, she felt a bit of the resolve she had found with them lingering, steadying her as she prepared to take the next steps.
The courthouse felt cold and impersonal as Y/N walked through the corridors, clutching a folder with all the necessary documents. Alexia had come along for support, standing beside her with a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Alexia whispered as they waited outside the clerk’s office.
Y/N nodded, offering a small, appreciative smile. “I know. I just… I didn’t think things would end up like this.”
Alexia’s expression softened. “It’s hard to see it now, but things will get better. You’re giving yourself the space to heal, and that’s what matters.”
Once the paperwork was submitted, Y/N felt a strange weight lift off her chest. Though there were still challenges ahead, she felt as if she’d finally taken control of her life again. She left the courthouse with a sense of liberation, a subtle shift in her step as she walked back out into the world.
Y/N spent the next few weeks focusing on herself. She dedicated more time to training, finding solace in the routines that had once brought her joy. Early morning runs, solo practice sessions at the gym, and evenings spent journaling—all of it became part of her path to healing. She threw herself into her hobbies outside of soccer as well, finally picking up the guitar she’d neglected and even taking up sketching as a way to unwind.
She also made an effort to reconnect with friends, something she hadn’t realized she’d distanced herself from over the past months. Her teammates invited her out to dinners, hikes, and even movie nights. They were patient with her, sensing that she needed support without crowding her. Mapi, Ingrid, and Alexia were constant presences in her life, gently encouraging her whenever she faltered.
From a distance, Patri watched her with quiet admiration. She noticed Y/N’s strength, her determination to reclaim her happiness, and how resilient she truly was. Though her heart ached whenever she saw Y/N looking lost in thought, Patri respected the boundaries Y/N had set, giving her the space to focus on herself.
One afternoon at training, Y/N was focused on a drill, completely immersed in perfecting her footwork. As she went through the moves, she caught a glimpse of Patri watching her from across the pitch. Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. Y/N saw something unspoken in Patri’s gaze—a mixture of admiration, warmth, and a touch of sadness.
Patri offered her a small, encouraging smile, a silent nod of acknowledgment. In that brief exchange, Y/N felt a wave of comfort wash over her. There was no pressure, no expectation—just an unspoken understanding between them. She smiled back, a quiet gratitude in her expression.
As training progressed, Patri kept her distance, offering support from afar. She didn’t push or prod, and she didn’t make any attempts to rekindle their friendship. Instead, she simply let Y/N know, in her own way, that she was there, waiting patiently and respectfully.
One evening after training, Y/N sat on the balcony of her apartment, watching the city lights flicker as the sun set. She felt a strange sense of peace, a feeling that had eluded her for months. Her phone buzzed with a text from Alexia, inviting her out with the team for dinner, and for the first time in a while, she accepted without hesitation.
As she got ready, she glanced at the photos on her wall—pictures of her with her friends, her family, and her teammates. There was a quiet strength in her now, one that had been forged through the challenges she’d overcome. She realized that she was finally healing, and though she wasn’t completely there yet, she knew she was on the right path.
Later that night, when she walked into the restaurant and saw her teammates gathered around, laughing and enjoying themselves, Y/N felt a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. She smiled, genuinely this time, as her teammates greeted her with open arms.
And from across the table, Patri caught her eye again, giving her a small nod of approval. This time, Y/N didn’t look away. Instead, she held Patri’s gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the support she’d given her from afar, and a newfound appreciation blossoming within her heart.
For now, she would focus on herself, but perhaps—when the time was right—she’d be ready to let others in once more.
Y/N felt a sense of calm returning to her life. The weeks following her decision to prioritize her well-being had brought newfound clarity. She was stronger now, and though she still carried the scars of her experience, she felt proud of how far she’d come.
And as her heart started to heal, she noticed the people around her—especially Patri. Their friendship had been complicated, and after everything that had happened, Patri had kept her distance, honoring Y/N’s need for space. But lately, Y/N found herself missing the moments they’d shared, those brief conversations, and the quiet support they’d once offered each other.
It wasn’t long before they started finding themselves in the same spaces again, pulled together by training and team events. And slowly, something shifted.
One morning, Y/N arrived at the gym early, hoping to enjoy a quiet workout before the others arrived. As she stretched, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and when she looked up, there was Patri, already in her workout gear.
They shared a quick, slightly awkward smile. Patri nodded in greeting, her expression warm yet reserved.
“Mind if I join?” Patri asked, gesturing to the open space on the mat beside Y/N.
Y/N hesitated, but then she nodded, smiling softly. “Sure.”
They fell into a comfortable rhythm, working through their stretches and exercises in companionable silence. Occasionally, Y/N caught Patri glancing her way, a soft smile playing on her lips. It was a small gesture, but it brought a sense of ease that Y/N hadn’t felt in a long time.
After finishing a set, Y/N grabbed her water bottle and turned to Patri, a smirk forming. “Bet I can beat you at sprints.”
Patri raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, you’re on.”
They spent the next few minutes racing each other across the gym, laughing and bantering as they went. The playful competition broke down the last remnants of tension between them, and by the time they were finished, Y/N felt like she was getting a piece of her old friendship back.
In the days that followed, Y/N and Patri began talking more frequently. It started with casual chats during practice, brief comments exchanged during water breaks, and the occasional inside joke shared from across the room. Slowly, Y/N found herself gravitating toward Patri, feeling that sense of ease and warmth return.
One evening, after a particularly intense training session, Y/N found herself lingering in the locker room. Most of the team had already left, but Patri was still there, gathering her things. Y/N took a breath and walked over, her heart beating a little faster than usual.
“Hey,” Y/N began, her voice soft. “I was thinking about getting something to eat. You wanna come?”
Patri’s eyes brightened, a small, hopeful smile spreading across her face. “I’d like that.”
They ended up at a small café, tucked away from the city’s usual buzz. Over hot tea and sandwiches, they talked about everything and nothing, catching up on lost time. Patri listened intently as Y/N shared the highlights of her recovery journey, offering her quiet support with every word.
At one point, Y/N paused, glancing at Patri with a hesitant smile. “Thank you, you know… for giving me the space to figure things out.”
Patri’s expression softened, her gaze gentle. “Of course, Y/N. I’d never want to push you. I just… I’m glad we’re here, talking like this.”
Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. “Me too.”
As the days went by, their friendship blossomed once more, built on a stronger foundation this time, one of mutual respect and patience. They started working together in drills, their teamwork growing naturally as if no time had passed. Their playful chemistry began to catch the attention of their teammates, who would exchange knowing smiles whenever they saw the two together.
During one particular scrimmage, Y/N and Patri were on opposing teams, their rivalry sparking laughter among their teammates as they playfully tried to one-up each other. At one point, Y/N managed to steal the ball from Patri, darting around her with a mischievous grin.
“Too slow!” she called over her shoulder.
Patri laughed, quick on her feet as she chased after Y/N. “We’ll see about that!”
Moments later, she caught up, skillfully intercepting the ball with a light touch and a triumphant smile. They shared a breathless laugh, and as their gazes met, there was an unspoken understanding between them. It felt like old times—only this time, there was no weight of the past between them.
After another long practice, Y/N found herself sitting outside on the team bus, waiting for the rest of the players to finish up. She was gazing out the window when she felt someone slide into the seat beside her.
“Mind if I sit?” Patri asked, her voice soft.
Y/N shook her head, smiling as Patri settled in next to her.
They sat in companionable silence, watching the lights of the city pass by. After a while, Patri glanced over, her gaze gentle but searching. “It’s good to have you back, Y/N,” she said quietly.
Y/N looked at her, a sense of peace washing over her. “It’s good to be back. I missed this… I missed us.”
Patri nodded, her smile tinged with a hint of emotion. “I did too. I’m here for you, whatever you need. Just know that.”
Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of gratitude for the friendship they’d managed to rebuild. In that moment, she realized that this bond, rekindled with such care and patience, was stronger than before.
For now, that was enough. And maybe—just maybe—they were ready for whatever the future held.
Weeks had passed since Y/N and Patri had found their way back to each other. With every passing day, their connection grew stronger. What had started as a friendship carefully rebuilt was shifting into something more, something unspoken but unmistakable.
It was a rainy afternoon in Barcelona, and the team was wrapping up an intense practice. As they made their way back inside, Y/N noticed Patri struggling to pull her hoodie over her head, her hands still wet from the rain.
“Here,” Y/N offered, stepping closer and gently tugging the hood over Patri’s head, making sure it covered her completely. Her fingers brushed against Patri’s cheek, lingering just a second too long.
Patri’s breath hitched, her eyes meeting Y/N’s with a spark of something more. She gave Y/N a shy, appreciative smile. “Thanks,” she murmured.
Y/N smiled back, feeling her heart race at the simple gesture. She pulled her hand away, trying to brush it off as casual, but the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her.
A few days later, Patri sent Y/N a text: Coffee after training? Just us?
Y/N didn’t hesitate to accept, and soon they found themselves at a small café by the beach. It was cozy and quiet, with only a few other patrons, and the view of the waves provided the perfect backdrop.
As they sipped their drinks, their conversation shifted from soccer and shared memories to more personal topics—their dreams, things they’d never told anyone else, vulnerabilities they hadn’t shown before. Y/N found herself opening up in ways she hadn’t anticipated, sharing parts of herself she had long kept guarded.
At one point, Patri leaned closer, her expression soft. “You know… you’ve changed a lot, Y/N. You’re stronger, more grounded. It’s beautiful to see.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered, her cheeks heating up at Patri’s compliment. “I had a lot of help,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “You were part of that.”
Patri smiled, her eyes twinkling with a quiet understanding. They sat in comfortable silence, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel that this moment, sitting here with Patri, felt different—deeper, as though they were both waiting for something to happen, both silently willing it to.
During a particularly tense match, Y/N had taken a hit that left her limping slightly. She brushed it off, not wanting to make a big deal, but Patri noticed right away, rushing to her side.
“Are you okay?” Patri asked, her face etched with worry.
“Yeah, it’s nothing serious,” Y/N assured her, though her leg throbbed with every step.
After the match, Patri refused to let Y/N leave without getting checked by the team doctor. “Come on, you’re not walking out of here like that. Sit down and let them take a look.”
Y/N chuckled but complied, touched by Patri’s concern. As the doctor checked her leg, Y/N caught Patri’s gaze from across the room, a mix of affection and something more in her eyes. It felt as if, with each shared look, they were both realizing the depth of their feelings, acknowledging what they’d both been skirting around.
Later, as they left the stadium together, Y/N glanced over at Patri, feeling a surge of affection she couldn’t quite suppress. “Thanks for looking out for me.”
Patri shrugged, smiling softly. “Someone has to. Plus, I can’t have my favorite teammate getting hurt.”
The words hung in the air, both of them feeling the weight of the meaning behind them. Y/N’s heart raced, her mind spinning with possibilities. She wanted to say something, to tell Patri what she’d been feeling, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she reached out, intertwining her fingers with Patri’s in a quiet but profound gesture.
Patri glanced down, her cheeks flushing, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezed Y/N’s hand gently, her eyes warm and full of unspoken promises.
A week later, the team decided to go out to celebrate a big win. They ended up at a small rooftop bar, the city lights twinkling around them as they danced and laughed. Y/N and Patri stayed close, finding themselves pulled together in every moment, whether it was dancing, laughing at inside jokes, or sharing stolen glances across the room.
At one point, they found themselves alone on the balcony, the city stretching out below them in a sea of lights. Y/N leaned against the railing, her gaze drifting to Patri, who was standing beside her, a soft smile on her face.
“This feels nice,” Y/N murmured, her voice barely audible above the hum of the city.
Patri turned to her, her eyes bright. “It does. I missed this… missed being close to you.”
Y/N’s heart pounded as she looked at Patri, the weight of her words settling in. She took a shaky breath, finally gathering the courage to say what had been on her mind. “Patri, I—”
But before she could finish, Patri’s hand found hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to say anything, Y/N. I feel it too.”
They stood in silence, the unspoken words filling the space between them, drawing them closer. Y/N took a step forward, her hand brushing against Patri’s cheek as she leaned in, her heart racing with anticipation.
Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, both of them lingering in the moment as if they’d been waiting for it forever. When they pulled back, they shared a quiet, breathless laugh, both feeling a mixture of exhilaration and relief.
“It took us a while, didn’t it?” Patri whispered, her eyes shining.
Y/N smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind Patri’s ear. “Better late than never.”
They stayed there on the balcony, wrapped in each other’s arms, basking in the feeling of finally letting down their walls and allowing themselves to fall into each other completely. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a profound sense of happiness, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it together.
After the rooftop confession, things between Y/N and Patri only grew more affectionate. Each glance lingered a little longer, and every small gesture between them carried newfound meaning. They hadn’t labeled their relationship yet, but they knew that what they had was deeper than friendship. And that was enough—for now.
But Patri couldn’t ignore the gnawing desire to make things official. She wanted to know, beyond a doubt, that they were together, committed to each other. She wanted to call Y/N her girlfriend.
The idea of asking Y/N to be her girlfriend made Patri nervous, more than she’d care to admit. She spent the entire morning pacing her apartment, rehearsing what she wanted to say. Even her dog, Hugo, sat watching her with a confused look, as if wondering why she was so on edge.
Finally, with her nerves settled as best they could be, Patri decided to ask Y/N out for dinner that evening at a cozy restaurant by the beach. She picked a time and place she knew Y/N would love, hoping the atmosphere would make everything feel right.
Y/N arrived at the restaurant, her heart fluttering with excitement as she spotted Patri waiting outside, looking slightly fidgety but undeniably stunning. Patri’s face lit up as she saw Y/N approach, and she reached out to take her hand.
“You look beautiful,” Patri said, her voice soft.
Y/N smiled, blushing slightly. “So do you.”
They walked into the restaurant, the warm glow of candlelight surrounding them. The dinner was perfect—filled with laughter, shared stories, and quiet moments where they simply enjoyed each other’s presence. They’d been so close over the past few weeks, but tonight felt different, like there was something even more meaningful simmering between them.
When the dessert came, Patri’s hands were slightly shaky. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she looked across the table at Y/N.
“Y/N,” Patri began, her voice softer than usual, “there’s something I wanted to ask you.”
Y/N tilted her head, her expression warm and curious. “Go on.”
Patri took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts as she reached across the table to take Y/N’s hand in hers. “These last few weeks with you… they’ve been amazing. And I know we haven’t really talked about… us, but I’d like to. I want to know what we are, and I want you to know how much you mean to me.”
Y/N squeezed her hand, her eyes softening. “You mean a lot to me too, Patri.”
Patri swallowed, her voice wavering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. “Would you… would you be my girlfriend?”
Y/N’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with joy as she let out a soft laugh of relief. “I thought you’d never ask.”
They both laughed, and Y/N stood, moving around the table to pull Patri into a tight hug. Patri wrapped her arms around Y/N, closing her eyes as she breathed in the moment, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness.
“Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend,” Y/N whispered into her ear.
Patri pulled back slightly, her hands resting on Y/N’s waist as she gazed into her eyes. “I don’t want there to be any doubt about us. I want everyone to know I’m yours.”
Y/N grinned, her fingers tracing lightly over Patri’s cheek. “I like the sound of that. You’re mine, and I’m yours.”
After dinner, they decided to take a stroll along the beach, hand in hand. The stars were bright overhead, casting a silvery glow over the waves. They walked in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s presence, the warmth of their hands intertwined.
At one point, Patri stopped, turning to face Y/N, a soft smile on her lips. “You make me so happy, Y/N.”
Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she gazed back at her, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”
Patri leaned in, her lips brushing softly against Y/N’s. It was a gentle, lingering kiss, filled with a tenderness that seemed to seal everything they’d just shared. When they pulled back, they were both grinning, hearts racing.
They continued their walk, sharing quiet laughter and stolen kisses along the way, both of them basking in the joy of finally being together, officially. As they reached the end of the beach, Y/N pulled Patri close, wrapping her arms around her as they gazed out at the waves.
“I’m so glad we found our way here,” Y/N murmured, resting her head against Patri’s shoulder.
“Me too,” Patri replied softly, her hand tracing gentle patterns along Y/N’s back. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”
They stayed there for a while, holding each other as the ocean waves crashed in the background, both of them knowing that they were exactly where they were meant to be—together.
It all started during a light-hearted conversation after training. The team was winding down, catching their breath, when Alexia, still stretching, casually said, "I think I might just be the fittest on this team." She glanced around with a confident smirk, her eyes sparkling with the challenge she didn’t even need to voice.
You chuckled, rolling your eyes. "Oh, is that so?" The other players caught the look you gave her, eyebrows raised as though you couldn’t believe her nerve. "Let’s see about that, then. How about a bleep test?"
A glint of excitement flickered across her face as she nodded. "You’re on. Prepare to lose."
The team perked up instantly, laughing and eagerly gathering around to watch. Your competitive streaks were legendary, and they knew neither of you would make this easy on the other.
The beeps began, and the challenge was simple: run back and forth in sync with each beep. Each round, the beeps would speed up, and eventually, the less fit ones would give in. But you and Alexia were as stubborn as they come, pushing each other to keep up no matter how fast or relentless the beeps became.
At first, it felt almost too easy. You both stayed light on your feet, easily keeping up with each beep, glancing over at each other with playful, taunting smirks. But as the rounds progressed, the pace picked up, and so did your mutual determination. Everyone else had either dropped out or settled into watching, laughing and cheering you both on.
“Come on, Alexia, that’s all you’ve got?” you teased, though you were breathing harder now, each step starting to feel heavier.
She shot you a look, her grin turning fierce. “Oh, cariño, I haven’t even started yet.”
You both pushed harder, sweat beginning to bead on your foreheads, muscles burning, breaths coming faster with each sprint across the pitch. The beeps seemed to blur into each other, like an unending taunt neither of you could back away from. The team looked on in awe, practically vibrating with laughter as they witnessed this spectacle. Even the coaching staff exchanged glances, eyebrows raised at the intense show of stubbornness.
Round after round, neither of you slowed. Your legs felt like they were made of cement, but you couldn’t quit—not with Alexia watching you, waiting for any sign of weakness. And from the look in her eyes, she wasn’t about to quit either.
Finally, with a gasp and a triumphant laugh, you stumbled on a particularly quick turn, only to see Alexia falter as well. You both crumpled onto the grass in unison, panting and grinning despite yourselves, the team breaking into cheers and laughter around you.
“Not so fit now, are you?” you managed to say between gasps, throwing her a playful glare.
She rolled her eyes, still catching her breath. “Speak for yourself. You look like you can’t even get up.”
You both laughed, pushing yourselves up slowly as the team crowded around, still laughing and clapping as they helped you hobble off the field.
The next morning, you felt like you’d aged fifty years overnight. Just sitting up in bed took a monumental effort as every muscle in your legs seemed to scream in protest. Groaning, you reached for your phone, grimacing at the text Alexia had already sent.
Ale: You’re dead to me. I can’t even stand up right now.
You: Look who’s talking. I’m still blaming you for this.
With reluctant laughs, you both agreed to skip training and meet up in the recovery room, where you limped in to find Alexia already sprawled on a padded chair, looking as miserable as you felt.
“You just had to open your mouth,” you muttered, settling in beside her with a wince.
She scoffed, wincing as she tried to adjust. “You didn’t have to challenge me. If anything, this is entirely your fault.”
As you grumbled back and forth, the door swung open to reveal Mapi, grinning from ear to ear. She took in the sight of the two of you slouched, still bickering, and burst into laughter. “If it isn’t our ‘fittest players’! Look at you both—too proud to quit, too stubborn to admit you’re both hopeless.”
“Oh, shut up, Mapi,” Alexia mumbled, trying not to laugh and failing.
Mapi didn’t let up, of course. She sauntered over, crossing her arms with a teasing smile. “Remind me never to take a bet with either of you two. You’d probably run a marathon just to win a ‘who’s faster’ argument.”
She mimicked a dramatic gasp, hand on her heart. “The mighty Alexia and Y/N, defeated by a beeping noise. Truly, we’re all in awe of your strength.”
You managed a laugh despite the soreness. “Keep talking, Mapi, and maybe next time we’ll challenge you.”
Mapi held up her hands in mock surrender. “Oh, no, I value my legs, thank you.”
Alexia shot her a glare, half-laughing. “Just wait, Mapi. You’ll regret that.”
Mapi’s laughter echoed in the recovery room as you and Alexia shared a tired but amused look, knowing all too well that your competitive streaks had definitely gotten the best of you this time. But as you leaned back and settled into the recovery session, grumbling and sharing smirks, you couldn’t deny the odd satisfaction of knowing you’d both pushed each other to the limit—even if you’d be paying for it for days.
You had managed to keep the tattoo hidden for as long as you could. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of it, but there was a certain awkwardness that came with carrying a permanent reminder of your past. It was a small, delicate script of your ex’s name inked discreetly near your hip—an impulsive decision made during the whirlwind of a long-gone relationship. No one in your current circle knew about it, not even your girlfriend, Alessia Russo. You’d never felt the need to mention it; after all, it was a part of your past, and what mattered now was the present you shared with Alessia.
You had fallen hard for Alessia, and the relationship felt different from the start—more real, more grounded, and certainly more serious than any you’d had before. That tattoo? It was a relic of a younger, more reckless you. But Alessia didn’t need to know about it. At least, that’s what you’d convinced yourself.
Everything came crashing down one afternoon at training, though, when Katie McCabe, ever the joker, decided to make light of something you had never intended anyone to notice.
Training had been intense, and as you and the Arsenal team headed back to the locker room, the mood was light and full of banter. You were laughing with some of your teammates, Alessia by your side, when you began peeling off your training kit to change into your regular clothes. You’d done this a hundred times before, always careful not to draw attention to your lower back where the ink was hidden beneath your shorts. But today, you were a little less cautious, still caught up in the post-practice high.
As you were pulling on your shirt, you felt a sharp whistle behind you. “Oi! What’s that then?” Katie’s thick Irish accent broke through the locker room chatter. You froze.
You turned slowly, catching sight of Katie pointing directly at your exposed hip. “You’ve been holding out on us, Y/N! That’s a name, isn’t it? Who’s the lucky ex?”
Your heart plummeted as a wave of heat rushed to your cheeks. The room fell silent for a moment before a ripple of amused laughter spread among your teammates. “Oh God, Y/N has secret ink!” Beth chimed in with a smirk.
You glanced nervously at Alessia, who had been sitting on the bench nearby, untying her cleats. Her expression shifted from amusement to confusion, her brow furrowing as her eyes locked on the tattoo. “Y/N?” Alessia’s voice was soft, but you could hear the tension in it.
Your stomach twisted painfully as you realized the gravity of the situation. This was not how you wanted Alessia to find out.
Katie, oblivious to the mounting tension, kept going. “Well, well, well. What’s the story behind this little gem? A memento of an old flame, eh?” She nudged you playfully, clearly enjoying the reaction from the team.
You tried to play it off, but the unease in the room was palpable. “It’s just… an old tattoo. It doesn’t mean anything anymore.”
Katie wasn’t done, though. “Oh, come on, don’t tell us it’s meaningless now! You know what they say—tattoos last forever, just like true love.” She winked, but your heart sank as Alessia’s gaze darkened.
The laughter that had filled the room began to fade as the other players picked up on the shift in atmosphere. Alessia stood up, her eyes fixed on you, hurt flickering behind them. “You never told me about this,” she said, her voice quieter now, the usual warmth absent.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you searched for the right words, but none came. You felt exposed, not just physically, but emotionally, standing there with everyone’s eyes on you, and most painfully, Alessia’s.
“I didn’t think it mattered,” you finally muttered, but even as the words left your mouth, you knew how weak they sounded.
Katie, sensing that she had stumbled into something more serious than just locker room banter, awkwardly cleared her throat. “Uh, alright, maybe I’ve taken this too far. I didn’t mean to… you know…”
But the damage was already done.
The rest of the locker room quieted as you hurried to get dressed, feeling Alessia’s silence like a heavy weight pressing on your chest. You wanted to talk to her, to explain, but now wasn’t the time—not with the rest of the team around. Alessia didn’t say another word as she finished getting changed and quickly headed out of the room, leaving you to trail after her.
By the time you made it outside, Alessia was already walking toward the car park, her shoulders tense. You jogged to catch up with her, your breath hitching with a mix of exhaustion and panic. “Alessia, wait.”
She stopped but didn’t turn around, her back rigid. “What, Y/N?” she asked, her voice tight. “What do you want me to say?”
You moved to stand in front of her, your heart aching at the hurt in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. It’s just… it’s an old tattoo from a long time ago. It doesn’t mean anything anymore, I swear.”
Alessia crossed her arms, her lips pressed into a thin line. “It doesn’t mean anything? You have your ex’s name tattooed on your body, and you didn’t think that was important enough to mention to your current girlfriend?”
“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” you admitted, feeling like a fool for ever thinking this could stay hidden. “I got it when I was young, and I haven’t even thought about it in years. You’re the one I love, Lessi. You’re the one who matters.”
She shook her head, her frustration clear. “It’s not just the tattoo, Y/N. It’s that you kept it from me. What else haven’t you told me?”
Your chest tightened as her words hit home. “There’s nothing else, I swear. I didn’t mean to keep it from you, I just… I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”
Alessia finally looked at you, her expression softening slightly, though the hurt was still there. “But it is worth bringing up. It matters to me because it’s a part of your past that I didn’t know about.”
You reached out, gently taking her hand. “I’m sorry, Alessia. I really am. I should have been honest with you. I’ll do better, I promise.”
For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, her eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge whether she could trust your words. Finally, she let out a slow breath, her shoulders relaxing just a little. “I believe you, but… I need some time to process this.”
You nodded, your heart heavy but relieved that she wasn’t shutting you out completely. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”
She gave you a small, sad smile before pulling her hand away and heading toward her car. You stood there, watching as she drove off, the weight of your mistake settling heavily in your chest.
The days following the tattoo revelation were tense. Alessia kept her distance, not in an angry way, but in a way that made it clear she needed space to think. You respected that, but it didn’t stop the anxiety from gnawing at you. You hated the idea that something as trivial as an old tattoo could drive a wedge between you, but you also understood why Alessia was upset.
At practice, things were awkward. Katie had apologized profusely once she realized the impact of her joke, but it didn’t change the fact that your relationship was now the subject of locker room whispers. Everyone had seen Alessia’s reaction, and though no one openly talked about it, you could feel their curiosity and concern.
You missed the easygoing nature of your relationship with Alessia—the way she would steal glances at you during practice, or how you’d spend evenings curled up on the couch together. But now, there was a distance between you, and it left you feeling adrift.
One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, you found Alessia sitting alone in the empty stadium seats, her head bowed as she stared out at the field. Taking a deep breath, you approached her, unsure if she was ready to talk but knowing you needed to try.
“Hey,” you said softly, sitting down next to her.
She didn’t look at you but acknowledged your presence with a quiet, “Hey.”
You sat in silence for a moment before speaking again. “I hate how things have been between us lately.”
Alessia sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I know. It’s just… this whole thing made me realize how much I don’t know about your past. It’s scary, you know?”
You nodded, understanding the vulnerability behind her words. “I get that. But I promise, I’m an open book from now on. No more secrets. No more surprises.”
Finally, she turned to look at you, her eyes soft but still guarded. “I love you, Y/N. I just need to know that I can trust you completely.”
“I love you too, Alessia,” you said, your voice filled with sincerity. “And you can. I’ll prove it to you every day if I have to.”
She studied you for a long moment before finally leaning in
Alessia studied your face for a long moment before she spoke again, her voice quiet but steady. “I need to ask you something,” she said, her gaze steady but tinged with uncertainty.
“Of course, anything,” you replied, sensing where this was going. Your heart clenched, knowing this conversation had been a long time coming.
Alessia bit her lip, hesitant but determined. “It’s not just about the tattoo. It’s about… everything I don’t know about your past. I know I’ve never really asked before, but after all this… I can’t help but wonder. I want to know about your exes, Y/N. I need to understand what they meant to you and where I fit into all of it.”
You weren’t surprised, but the question still caught you off guard. You’d been with Alessia for months now, and although you both knew the other had dated before, neither of you had ever really delved into past relationships. It had been an unspoken agreement to focus on the present and not dredge up old wounds. But now, it seemed that was no longer an option.
You took a deep breath, shifting in your seat to face her more fully. “I get it. I’ve been keeping parts of my past hidden, and that’s not fair to you. I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to leave those things behind, but I see now that not talking about them doesn’t make them go away.”
Alessia nodded, her eyes softening slightly, though the tension was still there. “So… tell me. I want to understand.”
You hesitated, gathering your thoughts. It wasn’t easy opening up about your past relationships, especially the ones that had hurt you. But if it would help heal the rift between you and Alessia, it was worth it.
“The tattoo… it’s from a relationship I had a few years ago,” you began, your voice quiet but steady. “Her name was Sophie. We were together for about two years, and it was serious. Or at least, I thought it was at the time. I got the tattoo during a moment when I thought we’d be together forever. You know how those things go… when you’re young and think love is unbreakable.”
Alessia listened intently, her expression unreadable. “What happened between you two?” she asked after a pause.
You sighed, the memory of Sophie still carrying a faint sting. “We grew apart. It wasn’t some big, dramatic breakup. We just… stopped being what we were. It became clear that we wanted different things in life, and in the end, we went our separate ways. The tattoo was a reminder of that relationship for a while, but after we broke up, it just became… a part of my body that I stopped thinking about.”
“And you never thought to get it removed?” Alessia asked, her voice neutral, though you could hear the curiosity behind it.
“I did think about it,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “But it didn’t feel necessary. I wasn’t holding onto feelings for her or anything. It was just… there, and I never thought it would be an issue.”
Alessia nodded slowly, processing your words. “And Sophie? Do you still talk to her?”
You shook your head quickly. “No, not at all. We haven’t spoken in years. There’s no lingering feelings or anything like that. I promise, Lessi, she’s in the past. You’re my present, and my future.”
There was a moment of silence as Alessia absorbed what you had said. She took a deep breath before asking, “Were there others?”
You hesitated again, knowing this was going to be a difficult conversation but also realizing it was necessary if you were going to build real trust between you. “Yes. I’ve had a few other relationships, but none that meant as much to me as what we have now. After Sophie, I dated casually, but nothing serious. You’re the first person I’ve felt this deeply for in a long time.”
Alessia’s eyes softened as you spoke, but there was still a lingering tension in the air. “I guess… I just didn’t realize how much of your past I didn’t know about,” she said softly. “It’s not that I’m jealous, but it’s hard to hear that you’ve had these deep relationships, and I’m only learning about them now.”
“I get that,” you said, taking her hand gently. “And I’m sorry for keeping it all bottled up. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to share it with you—it’s more that I wanted to leave it all behind. But you’re right. If we’re going to be together, you deserve to know everything about me, even the messy parts.”
Alessia squeezed your hand, her expression softening further. “I just want to know where I fit into your life. I don’t want to feel like I’m competing with ghosts from your past.”
“You’re not,” you said firmly, your heart aching at the thought of her feeling that way. “I’m with you because I love you, Alessia. You’re everything to me. The past… it’s just that—the past. It doesn’t compare to what we have.”
Alessia’s lips twitched into a small smile, though there was still a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “I believe you,” she said quietly. “It’s just going to take me some time to get used to all this.”
“I understand,” you replied softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
For a long moment, you sat in silence, the weight of the conversation still hanging in the air, but the tension between you easing. Alessia leaned into your side, resting her head on your shoulder, and you wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. It wasn’t a perfect resolution, but it was a start. You knew that healing the rift would take time, but you were willing to do whatever it took to show Alessia that she was your future.
Over the next few days, things slowly began to return to normal between you and Alessia. The tension that had lingered after the tattoo incident gradually started to fade, replaced by a sense of understanding and renewed closeness. Alessia asked more questions about your past—nothing intrusive, but enough to satisfy her curiosity. She wanted to understand you better, to know what had shaped you into the person you were now.
And you were more than willing to open up. You told her about your past relationships, your mistakes, and the lessons you had learned along the way. It was uncomfortable at times, but it felt necessary. Each conversation was like another step toward rebuilding the trust that had been shaken.
Alessia, for her part, began to let go of her initial hurt. She could see that you were committed to being open with her, and that meant more to her than anything. Still, there were moments when she’d glance at the tattoo with a wistful expression, and you’d feel a pang of guilt, knowing that a part of her still felt unsettled by it.
One evening, after training, you found yourselves lounging on the couch in your apartment, the warmth of a shared blanket wrapped around you. Alessia rested her head on your chest, her fingers tracing absentminded patterns on your arm.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said after a long stretch of comfortable silence. “About the tattoo.”
You tensed slightly, wondering where this was going. “Yeah?”
“I don’t think you need to remove it,” she said softly, surprising you. “I know I was upset at first, but I’ve been thinking about it, and I realized that it’s just a part of your story. It doesn’t define us, and it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
You exhaled, relieved. “Are you sure? I don’t want it to bother you.”
“It’s okay,” she said, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. “What matters is that I trust you now. And I do. Besides, we all have things in our past we wish we could change, right? But they don’t define us.”
You smiled, feeling a wave of affection for her. “Thank you. I love you, Alessia. And I’m so grateful that we can talk about these things.”
“I love you too,” she whispered, snuggling closer to you. “And from now on, no more secrets. Deal?”
“Deal,” you agreed, pulling her into a tender kiss.
The decision to get the tattoo removed wasn’t something you made lightly. After the conversation with Alessia, when she told you she didn’t mind if you kept it, you realized how much you wanted to let go of the past—completely. While she was understanding and supportive, you knew deep down that having your ex’s name permanently etched on your skin, even if it didn’t carry emotional weight anymore, wasn’t something you were comfortable with. It felt like an unnecessary reminder of a time that no longer defined you.
The clinic was small, clean, and the faint scent of antiseptic filled the air as you walked in. You were nervous—this wasn’t just about the physical act of removing the tattoo. It was symbolic, a final step in closing the door on that chapter of your life. You’d had a few sleepless nights leading up to this, but once you made the appointment, the weight of indecision finally lifted.
The nurse at the desk smiled kindly as she checked you in. "First time?" she asked, noticing your apprehension.
You nodded. "Yeah. Just trying to get rid of some old ink."
"Well, you're in good hands. It might sting a little, but you'll be okay," she reassured you. "It's not as bad as everyone makes it out to be."
You thanked her and took a seat in the waiting area, your heart racing as the minutes ticked by. You glanced at your phone, noticing a message from Alessia.
Lessi: “Thinking of you today, babe. You’ve got this. Can’t wait to see you after xx.”
A soft smile tugged at your lips. Alessia had been supportive the whole time, even though she said she didn’t need you to do it for her. She reassured you that your past didn’t bother her, that she loved you no matter what. But you wanted this—for yourself, and for her. It felt like a necessary step toward fully moving on and starting fresh.
The nurse eventually called your name, leading you to the back room where the procedure would take place. As you lay on the chair, the buzzing of the laser machine filled the small room. You clenched your fists at your sides as the technician started working on the tattoo. The sting was sharp but bearable, and you focused on steadying your breath, determined to get through it.
As the minutes passed, you thought about everything that had led you here. Your relationship with Sophie, the highs and lows, and how different it was from what you had with Alessia. Sophie had been important once, but what you had with Alessia was different. It was deeper, more real, more grounded in trust and mutual respect.
When the session was over, the technician applied a bandage over your now-fading tattoo and gave you instructions for the aftercare. “It’s going to take a few sessions to fully remove it,” she explained. “But we’ve made a good start today. Just follow the care instructions, and we’ll see you back in a few weeks.”
You thanked her, feeling lighter as you left the clinic. The tattoo wasn’t completely gone yet, but the process had started, and that was enough for now.
Later that evening, you returned home to find Alessia waiting for you on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with a movie paused on the TV. When she heard you come in, she turned her head, her eyes lighting up as she saw you.
“How’d it go?” she asked, sitting up a little straighter, her expression soft but curious.
You smiled, dropping your bag by the door and walking over to join her. “It was fine. Hurt a bit, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Alessia’s eyes softened, and she reached for your hand, pulling you down onto the couch beside her. “You’re amazing, you know that? You didn’t have to do this, but the fact that you wanted to… it means a lot.”
“I wanted to,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Not just for you, but for me too. It felt like the right thing to do. I don’t need that reminder of the past anymore.”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she looked up at you. “I’m proud of you.”
You rested your head against hers, feeling the comfort of her presence wash over you. For a few moments, you sat in comfortable silence, her hand tracing gentle circles on your arm.
“Do you ever regret any of it?” Alessia asked quietly, her voice soft but curious.
“Regret what?” you asked, turning your head slightly to look at her.
“Your past relationships. The tattoo, Sophie… all of it.”
You thought for a moment, considering her question. “I don’t think I regret it,” you said slowly. “I mean, it wasn’t always easy, and I’ve made mistakes. But I’ve learned from them, and those experiences shaped who I am today. I wouldn’t be the person I am without them. And without all of that, I might not have ended up with you.”
Alessia smiled, a hint of relief in her eyes. “I’m glad you think that way. I guess… I just don’t want to feel like I’m competing with your past. I know we’ve talked about this, but sometimes it still lingers in the back of my mind.”
You cupped her cheek gently, your thumb brushing over her soft skin. “You’re not competing with anyone, Less. You’re the one I choose, every day. The past is behind us, and I’m all in with you. I’m doing this because I want to move forward, to build a future with you.”
Her eyes softened, and she leaned into your touch. “I know. I guess it’s just me overthinking, as usual.”
You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Well, stop overthinking. I love you, and nothing about my past changes that.”
She grinned, her mood lightening. “Okay, okay. I’ll try.”
You snuggled into her side, resting your head on her shoulder. The weight of the past seemed to lift, leaving only the warmth of the present. You were moving forward together, and that was all that mattered.
As the night wore on, you found yourself feeling more at peace than you had in a long time. Removing the tattoo was just the first step, but it symbolized so much more. You and Alessia were stronger for it, and the future stretched out ahead of you, full of possibilities.
Over the next few weeks, you went through a few more sessions at the clinic, watching as the tattoo slowly faded away. Alessia was with you every step of the way, her support unwavering. Each session felt like another step toward leaving the past behind and focusing on the life you were building together.
By the time the tattoo was fully gone, you felt lighter, freer. It was a small thing in the grand scheme of life, but it represented something much bigger—the love and trust you shared with Alessia, and your commitment to building a future together, free of any lingering shadows from the past.
When you showed Alessia the final result, her face lit up with pride and affection. “It’s gone,” she said softly, tracing her fingers over the smooth skin where the tattoo used to be.
“Yeah,” you replied, your heart swelling with love as you looked at her. “It’s gone.”
And with that, you felt like you were truly starting a new chapter—a chapter that belonged to you and Alessia, and no one else.
You had always been known for your wit. Quick on your feet, a little cheeky, and a lot playful. So when you’d been introduced to Alessia Russo for the first time after transferring to Manchester United, it had taken approximately five seconds for you to start teasing her.
“You must be Alessia," you’d said with a grin, shaking her hand at your first training session. “You’re even prettier than the photos.”
Alessia’s face had gone red immediately, her eyes darting around as if someone else could confirm she wasn’t imagining your flirtation. “Uh, thanks? Welcome to the team?” she stammered, her words coming out as more of a question than a statement.
You had simply winked at her and walked off, leaving her standing there, still trying to make sense of what had just happened.
From that day on, it became your personal mission to get her to blush at every possible moment. Teasing her was far too easy—and it didn’t hurt that she was downright adorable when flustered.
It was an early Tuesday morning when you found your next opportunity. Training wasn’t supposed to start for another thirty minutes, but you’d decided to arrive early to get some extra touches in. Much to your delight, Alessia was already on the pitch, running through some dribbling drills.
“Early riser, eh?” you called out as you jogged toward her, causing her to stop mid-drill and look up.
“Y-yeah, I like to get some practice in before the team arrives,” she replied, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead.
You raised an eyebrow and shot her a playful grin. “Or are you just trying to impress me, Less?”
Alessia’s eyes widened, and she fumbled with the ball at her feet, nearly tripping over it in her attempt to regain composure. Her cheeks flushed a familiar shade of pink. “W-what? No! I just—”
You laughed, making your way over to her and leaning in close, your voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s okay, I’m flattered. You don’t have to pretend.”
“Y/N, stop,” she mumbled, looking anywhere but at you, her face now fully red as she nervously adjusted her shin guards.
“Alright, alright,” you said with a chuckle, backing off but still shooting her a wink. “But seriously, you’re looking great out here.”
Alessia gave you a small, sheepish smile, the tension easing just a little. “Thanks.”
You watched her for a moment, appreciating the way she moved with such grace and precision, even when she was flustered. Despite your relentless teasing, there was no denying that Alessia was a hell of a player. But you weren’t about to let her off the hook that easily.
“By the way,” you added as you picked up a ball and dribbled alongside her, “your blush is really cute.”
Alessia groaned, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she shook her head. “You’re impossible, Y/N.”
“And you love it,” you shot back with a smirk.
She didn’t respond, but the way she ducked her head made you suspect that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t wrong.
Training had been tough, but you had managed to keep your usual playful banter going throughout, much to Alessia’s embarrassment. Every time she made a particularly good play, you’d shower her with over-the-top compliments that sent her blushing.
“Look at that touch! You’re incredible, Less,” you’d exclaimed after she sent a perfect pass across the field. She’d barely managed a muttered thanks before sprinting away from you, her cheeks flaming.
But your favorite moment came after training when the team was gathered in the locker room. You’d been chatting with a couple of your teammates when Alessia walked by, still drying her hair from the shower.
Without missing a beat, you turned to her with a dramatic gasp. “Alessia! You clean up so nice. You should have warned me—I need sunglasses for how radiant you are.”
The locker room erupted into laughter, and Alessia froze mid-step, her face turning the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen. She looked like she wanted to melt into the floor, her eyes darting around for an escape.
“Y/N, stop,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible over the laughter of your teammates.
“I’m just speaking the truth!” you replied with an exaggerated shrug, flashing her a grin. “You can’t help it if you’re stunning.”
Alessia shot you a look that was somewhere between exasperation and amusement before finally managing to escape to her locker, her face still burning with embarrassment.
“Honestly, Y/N, you’re going to give her a heart attack,” one of your teammates said with a laugh, clapping you on the back.
You just shrugged, your grin never wavering. “Hey, if she’s going to be all cute and blushy, I’m not going to stop.”
Despite all the teasing and flirting, you had to admit that there was something undeniably endearing about Alessia’s constant blushes and shy smiles. She was sweet and kind, always going out of her way to help her teammates, and you found yourself wanting to be around her more and more.
So one evening, after a particularly tough match that you’d lost, you found yourself seeking her out. Alessia was sitting by herself in the stands, staring out at the empty field, clearly lost in thought.
“Hey,” you said softly, sitting down beside her. “You okay?”
She glanced over at you, her usual blush nowhere to be seen, replaced by a somber expression. “Yeah, I’m just… disappointed, I guess. I feel like I didn’t play my best today.”
You frowned, your playful demeanor fading as you reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Are you kidding? You were great out there, Less. We all have off days, but you gave it your all, and that’s what matters.”
Alessia let out a small sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I just feel like I could have done more.”
Without thinking, you scooted closer to her, your hand moving to gently tilt her chin up so she was looking at you. “Hey, you’re one of the best players on this team, Alessia. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re amazing.”
Her eyes met yours, and for once, there was no teasing in your voice, no playful smirk on your lips. You were being completely sincere, and it seemed to catch her off guard. Her cheeks flushed slightly, but this time it wasn’t out of embarrassment—it was something softer, something more vulnerable.
“Thanks, Y/N,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Anytime.”
For a moment, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, the weight of the loss starting to fade as you focused on the simple comfort of being next to each other.
But of course, you couldn’t resist slipping back into your usual teasing.
“You know,” you said with a grin, “I’m still waiting for you to admit that you like my flirting.”
Alessia’s blush returned full force, and she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Y/N, you’re unbelievable.”
“Unbelievably charming, I know,” you quipped, earning a soft laugh from her as she playfully shoved you.
“You’re lucky I put up with you,” she muttered, but there was a smile on her face as she spoke.
“And you love it,” you replied with a wink.
She didn’t deny it.
The playful banter continued for weeks, each day bringing new opportunities for you to tease and flirt with Alessia, and each time, she’d turn redder and redder. It had become a game—one that you thoroughly enjoyed.
But despite all the teasing, you couldn’t deny that there was something more beneath the surface. You found yourself looking forward to every training session, every match, every quiet moment you spent with Alessia. The teasing wasn’t just for fun anymore—it was because you genuinely liked her. A lot.
And that scared you a little.
You weren’t exactly the type to get flustered or nervous, but when it came to Alessia, you felt like a nervous wreck. What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if all the teasing had just been a joke to her, something she tolerated but didn’t reciprocate?
One evening, after a particularly intense training session, you found yourself standing outside the locker room, pacing back and forth as you debated whether or not to tell her how you felt.
“Y/N?”
You jumped at the sound of her voice, spinning around to find Alessia standing behind you, looking slightly concerned. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied quickly, your usual playful confidence faltering for the first time. “I just, uh… wanted to talk to you.”
Alessia raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by your uncharacteristic nervousness. “Okay… what’s up?”
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before blurting out, “I like you, Less.”
Alessia blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You… what?”
“I like you,” you repeated
Sure, let's continue from where we left off:
You swallowed hard, your usual confidence nowhere to be found as you tried to explain yourself. “I know I’ve been teasing you a lot, but it’s because I like you. A lot. I didn’t mean to make things weird or anything, but I couldn’t just keep pretending that it’s all just for fun. You mean more to me than that.”
Alessia’s face was a mixture of shock and disbelief. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then finally let out a nervous laugh. “You like me?” Her cheeks turned pink again, but this time it wasn’t just embarrassment—there was a glimmer of something more in her eyes.
“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice steady now despite the pounding of your heart. “I know I joke around a lot, but I’m serious, Less. You’re amazing. And not just on the pitch. You’re kind, and sweet, and… well, let’s just say you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
Alessia’s blush deepened, and she looked away for a moment, biting her lip. For what felt like an eternity, she didn’t say anything, and you could feel your anxiety rising. Maybe you had misread the situation. Maybe you’d pushed things too far.
But then, she turned back to you, her eyes soft, almost shy. “I thought you were just being… well, you. I didn’t think you actually—” She trailed off, shaking her head as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
“Look, I get that I can be a lot sometimes,” you said quickly, rubbing the back of your neck. “But I’m not messing around here. I really like you, Alessia. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay, I’ll back off—”
“I do,” she interrupted, her voice quiet but certain.
You blinked. “You… do?”
Alessia nodded, her blush still going strong but a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Yeah. I like you too. I just… I didn’t know how to say it. You’re so confident, and I’m… well, me.”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face, relief flooding through you. “So all this time, you’ve been blushing because you like me?”
Alessia let out a soft laugh, covering her face with her hands for a moment before looking at you again, her eyes shining with a mixture of embarrassment and affection. “Maybe. Just a little.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” you teased gently, stepping closer to her. “Because I’ve been holding back for weeks now, trying not to scare you off with my charm.”
Alessia rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her face now. “You really are impossible, you know that?”
“And yet, here you are, admitting you like me,” you quipped, reaching out to gently take her hand in yours.
She didn’t pull away. Instead, she laced her fingers with yours, her blush fading slightly as she met your gaze. “Yeah. I guess I am.”
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, hands intertwined, the air between you charged with something new and electric. It wasn’t just playful flirting anymore—it was real, and it felt like everything had shifted.
“So,” you said, breaking the silence with a smirk, “does this mean I can finally kiss you?”
Alessia’s eyes widened, and she let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks turning pink once more. “You’re really not going to stop teasing me, are you?”
“Not a chance,” you replied, stepping even closer, your voice softening. “But seriously. Can I?”
She hesitated for a second, but then she nodded, her lips curving into a shy smile. “Yeah. You can.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. Gently, you cupped her face in your hands, leaning in until your lips brushed against hers. The kiss was soft and sweet, full of the unspoken feelings that had been building between you for weeks. Alessia kissed you back almost hesitantly at first, but soon, her arms wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, and Alessia’s face was practically glowing with embarrassment and happiness. “That was… nice,” she said, her voice a little shaky but full of warmth.
You grinned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just nice? I’ll have to try harder next time.”
Alessia laughed, shaking her head at your never-ending confidence. “Don’t push your luck, Y/N.”
You smiled softly, your heart swelling as you looked at her. “Too late for that. I’m in this now, for real.”
Alessia’s eyes softened, and for the first time, there was no trace of embarrassment or nerves in her expression—just pure affection. “Me too.”
From that day on, things changed between you and Alessia in the best possible way. The playful banter and teasing didn’t stop—if anything, it became even more fun now that you both knew where you stood. But there was also a new level of comfort and intimacy between you.
After training sessions, instead of just teasing her from afar, you’d walk over and plant a soft kiss on her cheek, watching with delight as she turned pink every single time.
“Y/N, we’re at training,” she’d whisper, glancing around to make sure no one was watching.
“And?” you’d reply with a cheeky grin. “I’m just showing my girl some love. Besides, everyone already knows I’m obsessed with you.”
Alessia would groan, her face red as she tried (and failed) to hide her smile. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you love it,” you’d tease, nudging her playfully.
But beneath all the teasing, there were quieter moments too—moments when the two of you would sit together in comfortable silence, your hand resting on her knee as you watched TV, or when you’d sneak away from team events just to steal a few minutes alone together.
One evening, after a particularly tough match that had ended in a hard-fought draw, you found Alessia sitting alone in the locker room, her head in her hands. You knew immediately that something was off.
“Hey,” you said softly, sitting down beside her. “You okay?”
She looked up, her eyes a little red, and you could see the frustration written all over her face. “I just feel like I didn’t play my best today.”
You frowned, reaching out to gently take her hand. “Less, you were great out there. We all have off days, but you gave it everything you had.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just feel like I could have done more. I let the team down.”
“Hey, hey,” you said, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You didn’t let anyone down. You were amazing, like always. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Alessia leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. “Thanks, Y/N. I just… I don’t know. It’s hard sometimes, feeling like I’m not doing enough.”
You pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, your heart aching at the sadness in her voice. “You’re more than enough, Alessia. You’re incredible. And if you ever forget that, I’ll be here to remind you.”
She smiled softly, her hand finding yours and squeezing it gently. “What would I do without you?”
“You’d probably be less flustered,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, but I’d also be a lot less happy.”
You grinned, leaning down to kiss her gently on the lips. “Good answer.”
As time went on, your relationship with Alessia only grew stronger. You still loved making her blush, and she still couldn’t help but get flustered whenever you teased her. But now, there was an unspoken understanding between you—a deep connection that went beyond the jokes and the flirting.
One evening, as you sat together on the couch, Alessia curled up against your side, you couldn’t help but reflect on how far you’d come.
“Do you remember the first time we met?” you asked, glancing down at her with a smile.
Alessia looked up at you, her eyes soft with affection. “How could I forget? You started flirting with me five seconds after we shook hands.”
You laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “I couldn’t help it. You were too cute.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled, snuggling closer to you. “You’re lucky I didn’t run away.”
“You wouldn’t have gotten far,” you teased, wrapping your arms around her. “I would’ve chased after you.”
Alessia laughed, her cheeks turning pink as she buried her face in your chest. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it,” you said softly, kissing the top of her head.
She smiled, her hand resting on your chest as she looked up at you. “Yeah. I do.”
In that moment, you knew that whatever the future held, you and Alessia would face it together. Because even though you loved making her blush, the truth was, you loved her more than anything.
And that? That was something worth holding onto.
It had been a few months since you and Alessia had officially started dating, but your favorite pastime hadn’t changed one bit. If anything, you’d found new ways to tease her now that you were together, and it was even more fun seeing how easily she still got flustered. One particular day, the opportunity was too good to pass up.
You and the rest of the team were out for lunch, gathered around a long table after a morning training session. Alessia sat across from you, laughing at a joke one of your teammates had just made, completely unaware of the mischievous smile forming on your face.
As the conversation flowed around the table, you leaned back in your chair, casually resting your foot against Alessia’s under the table. At first, she didn’t react, still engaged in the chatter, but when you gently nudged her ankle with your foot and let your leg linger against hers, she froze.
Her eyes flickered toward you, widening slightly in confusion, but you just gave her an innocent smile as if nothing was happening.
“What’s wrong, Less?” you asked, loud enough for everyone to hear, but with just enough of a teasing lilt that she knew you were up to something.
She blinked, her face immediately turning pink. “N-nothing,” she stammered, her voice higher than usual as she shifted in her seat.
Your teammates barely noticed the interaction, too caught up in their own conversations, but you could see Alessia’s growing discomfort as you lightly ran your foot up her leg.
“Oh, okay,” you said with a smirk, leaning forward on your elbows. “You just looked a little… flustered.”
Alessia’s blush deepened as she looked around the table, clearly hoping no one else was paying attention. “Y/N,” she muttered under her breath, her eyes pleading with you to stop.
But of course, you didn’t.
Leaning even closer, you whispered just loud enough for her to hear, “Why are you blushing, Less? Did I make you nervous?”
She shot you a look, her face now fully red as she fidgeted with her napkin, clearly trying to compose herself. “You’re impossible,” she mumbled, glancing around nervously to make sure no one else was catching on.
“I know,” you replied with a wink, pulling your foot back and giving her a break. “But you love me anyway.”
Alessia let out a quiet groan, shaking her head. “I do,” she admitted softly, her lips curving into a small smile despite the flush still coloring her cheeks.
You grinned, giving her a playful wink. “And that’s why you’re stuck with me.”
For the rest of the lunch, Alessia tried to avoid your gaze, but you could tell by the soft smile on her lips that, even when you teased her, she wouldn’t want it any other way.
It was the end of a long, hard-fought match, and your team had just managed to scrape a victory. Everyone was buzzing with excitement as you made your way back to the locker room, high on adrenaline and the thrill of the win. Alessia had played brilliantly, as always, and you could already see the pride shining in her eyes as you caught up to her.
“Hey, superstar,” you called out, slinging an arm over her shoulder as the two of you walked toward the locker room together. “You were amazing out there.”
Alessia blushed, looking down at the ground as she smiled. “Thanks, but it was a team effort.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be modest,” you teased, giving her a playful nudge. “You carried us out there. If it wasn’t for your goal, we’d still be running around like headless chickens.”
Alessia’s cheeks flushed even darker, and she ducked her head, clearly embarrassed by the praise. “It wasn’t just me.”
“Sure, sure,” you said with a smirk, leaning in closer. “But you’re the real star here, and you know it.”
She let out a soft laugh, but her face remained red as she tried to deflect the attention. “Stop it, Y/N,” she muttered, her voice shy as she lightly swatted at your arm.
“Why?” you asked, grinning as you pulled her into a side hug, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Does it embarrass you when I tell everyone how amazing my girlfriend is?”
“Y/N, seriously,” she groaned, her face practically glowing with embarrassment now. “You’re going to make me die of embarrassment one of these days.”
You laughed, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re too cute when you’re flustered. I can’t help it.”
Alessia rolled her eyes, but you could see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re the worst.”
“And yet, you love me,” you teased, giving her a playful nudge.
She let out a quiet sigh, her smile finally breaking through. “Yeah, I do.”
By the time the two of you reached the locker room, the rest of the team had already started changing and celebrating the win, but you weren’t done teasing Alessia just yet. As you both started getting changed, you made a point of catching her eye every few seconds, sending her exaggerated winks and grinning every time her face turned red.
“Y/N, stop,” she whispered, glancing around to make sure no one else was watching.
“What?” you asked innocently, biting back a laugh. “I’m just appreciating how cute you are.”
Alessia groaned, her hands flying up to cover her face as she tried to hide her growing embarrassment. “You’re going to drive me crazy.”
You chuckled, pulling her hands away from her face and leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Good thing you like me a little crazy then.”
She smiled against your lips, her blush finally starting to fade as she relaxed into the kiss. When you pulled back, she looked up at you with a mix of exasperation and affection. “I really don’t know how I put up with you.”
“Because I’m charming,” you said with a wink.
Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah. Something like that.”
You grinned, giving her a playful nudge as the two of you finished getting changed. Even after all the teasing and all the blushes, you knew that Alessia wouldn’t want it any other way.
And, truth be told, neither would you.
It was a quiet afternoon, and you and Alessia had the day off from training. You decided to spend the day together at home, lounging on the couch with a movie playing in the background. It was peaceful, and Alessia seemed happy, nestled against your side as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through her hair.
Of course, you couldn’t resist a little teasing, as always.
“Hey, Less,” you said, giving her a playful nudge with your elbow. “You remember that time you tripped over your own feet during warm-ups?”
Alessia groaned, burying her face in your shoulder. “Don’t remind me,” she mumbled, but there was a smile on her lips.
You grinned, feeling the familiar urge to push her buttons just a bit more. “Oh, come on, it was hilarious. You went down like a sack of potatoes. I’m pretty sure the whole team’s still laughing about it.”
Alessia’s face flushed slightly, but she didn’t say anything. You figured she was used to your teasing by now, so you kept going, not realizing that today might be different.
“And then there was that time you completely missed the ball during the game. Remember that? The fans were probably wondering if you were secretly sabotaging us.”
Alessia’s smile faded a little, and she shifted uncomfortably beside you. “Y/N,” she said quietly, her voice more serious than usual. “That’s enough.”
You blinked, not catching the shift in her mood. “What? I’m just messing with you, Less. You know I’m kidding.”
But instead of laughing, Alessia sat up and moved away from you, her expression tense. “It’s not funny anymore,” she said, her voice sharper than you’d ever heard it.
The change in her tone caught you off guard. You frowned, confused. “Less, come on. It’s just a joke.”
“No, it’s not just a joke,” she snapped, standing up from the couch. “You always do this, Y/N. You keep teasing me and making fun of me, and I’m tired of it. I get that it’s your way of showing affection or whatever, but sometimes it hurts.”
Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, and suddenly, the playful mood you’d been in evaporated. You hadn’t meant to upset her, but it was clear that you had.
“Alessia, I didn’t mean—”
“You never mean to, but you always do it,” she interrupted, her voice shaking with frustration. “I’ve told you before that I get embarrassed easily, and you just keep pushing it. It’s like you don’t even care how I feel.”
That stung. You cared about Alessia more than anything, but you’d never realized that your constant teasing had been affecting her like this.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, standing up to face her. “I didn’t know it bothered you this much.”
Alessia shook her head, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Well, now you do. And it does. I try to laugh it off because I know you’re just joking, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like you don’t take me seriously.”
Her words hung heavy in the air, and for the first time, you realized how much your teasing had hurt her. You’d crossed a line without even realizing it, and now Alessia was standing in front of you, visibly upset, her cheeks flushed with anger rather than embarrassment.
“Less, I’m really sorry,” you said, stepping closer to her. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I never want you to think I don’t take you seriously. You mean everything to me.”
But Alessia didn’t soften. She just shook her head, her eyes full of frustration and hurt. “I need some space,” she said quietly. “I can’t deal with this right now.”
Your heart sank as she walked past you, heading toward the bedroom and shutting the door behind her. The sound of it closing felt final, and for a moment, you just stood there, staring after her, unsure of what to do.
You’d messed up. Big time.
You spent the next couple of hours pacing the living room, replaying the conversation over and over in your head. You couldn’t believe how badly you’d misread the situation. Alessia had always been so good-natured about your teasing, but you hadn’t realized that it had been wearing on her. Now, you had to figure out how to make things right.
After a while, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer. You knocked gently on the bedroom door, hoping she’d be willing to talk to you.
“Less?” you called softly. “Can we talk?”
There was no response for a moment, and your heart sank even further. But then, the door creaked open, and Alessia stood there, her arms still crossed over her chest, her face a mix of anger and sadness.
You took a deep breath, knowing you had to lay it all out there.
“Alessia,” you began, your voice quiet but sincere. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you with my jokes. I thought I was just messing around, but I wasn’t paying attention to how you were really feeling. That’s on me, and I’m sorry.”
She looked at you, her expression softening slightly, but the hurt was still there. “You really didn’t notice?” she asked, her voice wavering. “Because it feels like I’ve been telling you for a while now.”
Guilt washed over you, and you nodded. “I know, and I should’ve listened. I’ve been selfish, thinking that just because I like to joke around, you’d be okay with it. But that’s not fair to you. You deserve better than that.”
Alessia sighed, leaning against the doorframe as she looked down at the floor. “I don’t want to fight with you, Y/N. I just… I need you to respect my boundaries. Sometimes, the teasing is fine, but other times, it makes me feel small. Like I’m just the punchline.”
Your chest tightened at her words, and you stepped closer, reaching out tentatively to take her hand. “I never want you to feel that way. You’re not a joke to me, Less. You’re the most important person in my life, and I’m sorry I’ve made you feel anything less than that.”
She hesitated for a moment, but then she let you take her hand, her fingers intertwining with yours. “I know you didn’t mean to,” she said quietly. “But it still hurt.”
“I’ll do better,” you promised, squeezing her hand gently. “I’ll be more mindful of your feelings, and if I ever cross a line again, just tell me, and I’ll stop. I don’t want to lose you over something like this.”
Alessia’s eyes met yours, and for the first time since the argument, you saw the anger fading away, replaced by something softer. “You’re not going to lose me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just need you to understand that sometimes, it’s too much.”
“I get it,” you said earnestly. “I’ll back off with the teasing, I promise. I just want you to be happy.”
She gave you a small smile, her hand squeezing yours in return. “I do love you, Y/N. But sometimes, you drive me crazy.”
You let out a breath of relief, pulling her into a gentle hug. “I love you too. And I’ll try to drive you a little less crazy from now on.”
Alessia laughed softly, resting her head against your chest. “That’s all I ask.”
You held her close, the weight of the argument slowly lifting as she relaxed in your arms. You knew you still had work to do to rebuild the trust you’d damaged, but for now, you were just grateful that she’d given you the chance to make things right.
As the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you made a silent vow to yourself: no more careless jokes, no more pushing her boundaries. You’d be the partner she deserved—one who lifted her up, not one who made her feel small.
The Williamson household was a battleground—a war of expectations where Leah was the shining star and you were merely a shadow, perpetually overlooked. Leah was the golden child, the athlete with a future that glittered like gold. You, on the other hand, were the afterthought, the disappointment. Your parents never failed to remind you of that.
“Y/N, can’t you just try to be more like Leah?” your mother, Amanda, would say, her voice laced with disdain. “Look at what she’s accomplished! She’s going places!”
You would clench your fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m not Leah! I’m me!”
The silence that followed was deafening. Your parents’ eyes glazed over, dismissing your struggles while Leah basked in the glow of their pride. With every praise they heaped upon her, you felt more like a ghost in your own home.
You were around ten years old, sitting at the dining table during a family gathering. The smell of roast chicken filled the air, and laughter echoed around you, but you felt like an outsider. You watched as your mother animatedly praised Leah, her favorite.
“Mum, did you see Leah score that goal last week?” Amanda exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with pride. “She’s going to be the next big thing in women’s football! Such talent, such dedication!”
You sat quietly, pushing your food around your plate, feeling the familiar sting of jealousy. Why couldn’t anyone see you?
“Yeah, she’s really good,” your Nan chimed in, nodding. “What about you, Y/N? Are you going to take up sports like your sister?”
You shrugged, trying to disappear into your chair. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on! You should try to be more like Leah!” Amanda said, her voice dripping with condescension. “At least someone in this family has to make us proud.”
Your heart sank as you heard the laughter from your relatives, the way they all nodded in agreement. “Leah’s got potential, and she’s going to make it big. What do you have, Y/N? A knack for sitting around?”
You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your eyes stinging with tears. “I’m good at other things!” you protested weakly, but your voice was drowned out by Leah’s laughter.
“Y/N can’t even kick a ball without tripping over her own feet!” Leah teased, her laughter infectious, but it cut through you like a knife.
“Stop it, Leah!” you shouted, feeling the anger boil over. “You’re not better than me!”
“Calm down, sweetie. We’re just having some fun,” Amanda said dismissively, patting your head as if you were a child throwing a tantrum. “You’ll find your talent one day. Just try to keep up with your sister, okay?”
The words echoed in your mind as you fought back tears. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders, the expectation to be someone you couldn’t be.
The day you left for boot camp was bittersweet. You felt excitement but also a pang of guilt for leaving Leah behind.
“Are you sure about this?” Leah asked, concern etched on her face.
“Yeah, I need to do this for me,” you replied, forcing a smile.
“Just promise you’ll be careful,” she said, her tone a mix of worry and support.
“Of course,” you lied, knowing deep down that you were running away from the pain rather than confronting it.
Boot camp was grueling, but it gave you a sense of purpose. You found strength in the camaraderie of your fellow recruits, pushing yourself to the limit. For the first time, you felt like you belonged somewhere.
But even amidst the discipline and training, the thoughts of your family lingered. You often wondered if Leah ever thought about you or if she was too busy with her own life to care.
After four years of service, you returned home, hoping to reconnect with Leah. But as soon as you stepped through the door, the reality of your family life hit you like a slap in the face.
“Y/N!” your mother exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon!”
“Where’s Leah?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Oh, she’s at training,” your mother replied, pride dripping from her words. “You know how dedicated she is!”
The mention of Leah’s name sent a wave of bitterness through you. “Right. Of course.”
As the days passed, you felt like a ghost in your own home. Leah was too wrapped up in her training and matches to spend time with you, and your parents were too busy praising her to notice your presence.
Every time you reached out to Leah, she seemed distant. “I’m busy, Y/N,” she would say, her tone apologetic but cold. “Can we catch up later?”
“Sure,” you would reply, masking your frustration, but inside, anger festered like an untreated wound.
Everything came to a head one fateful evening. You had been waiting for Leah to come home, desperate for a chance to talk. When she finally walked in, you felt a surge of emotion.
“Leah, can we talk?” you asked, your voice trembling with pent-up frustration.
“Not now, Y/N. I have a match tomorrow, and I need to rest,” she replied, brushing past you like you were nothing.
“Seriously? You can’t even spare five minutes for your sister?” you snapped, the anger boiling over.
Leah turned to you, surprise written all over her face. “What’s your problem? I’m trying to focus on my career here!”
“Your career? What about me? I just got back from serving four years, and you can’t even acknowledge it!” you shouted, feeling the years of resentment pour out.
“Maybe if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have to worry about it!” Leah shot back, her own anger flaring.
“Run away? You have no idea what it was like for me!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “You think I wanted to leave? I had to escape this hell!”
“Escape?” Leah scoffed. “You think I wanted to be the one left behind? I thought we could have been a family again!”
“Family?” you yelled, your voice hoarse. “You don’t even know what that means! You’ve been too busy being the perfect daughter to care about anyone else!”
“Stop acting like a victim!” Leah shouted, her voice echoing in the cramped room. “You chose to leave! You didn’t think about how it would affect me!”
“Maybe if you weren’t such a self-absorbed brat, I would have thought about it!” you retorted, feeling the hurt and anger consume you.
Leah took a step back, the hurt in her eyes cutting deep. “I’m not trying to fix anything! I just want to understand!”
“Understand? You’ll never understand what it’s like to feel abandoned!” you spat, turning away from her. “You’re nothing but a fucking reminder of everything I’ve lost!”
With nowhere to go, you found yourself wandering the streets, the weight of your emotions suffocating. You had always been proud of your service, but now it felt like a shackle, a reminder of everything you had lost.
Days turned into weeks, and the harsh reality of homelessness set in. You tried to find odd jobs, but with no permanent address, it was nearly impossible. You slept in parks, scrounged for food, and felt the bitterness of betrayal gnawing at your insides.
The nights were the worst. You would huddle in a corner, wrapped in a tattered blanket, feeling the bite of the cold seep into your bones. Each passing day was a reminder of your failures, a reminder that you were alone in a world that had forgotten about you.
“Why the fuck am I in this situation?” you muttered to yourself one night, staring up at the stars. “I served my country, and this is how I’m repaid?”
Anger boiled over, and you found yourself shouting at the universe. “I’m not a fucking loser! I’m better than this! I deserve better!”
But the cold reality of your circumstances wrapped around you like a suffocating blanket. You felt invisible, lost in a world that had forgotten you.
You would occasionally catch glimpses of Leah on TV, scoring goals and living the life you once dreamed of. Jealousy and anger bubbled within you, and you cursed her silently from your corner of the street. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Leah. You’ll never know what it’s like to fall from grace!”
The days dragged on, and you became a master of survival. You learned where to find food, how to navigate the streets, and how to avoid trouble. You slept with one eye open, always ready to defend yourself against anyone who might try to take advantage of your vulnerability.
You scrounged for odd jobs, doing anything you could to earn a few bucks. You washed cars, picked up litter, and even helped set up for local events. Each day was a struggle, but you were determined not to let your circumstances break you.
As the weather turned colder, you found yourself searching for warmth. You discovered a shelter where you could stay for the night, but the rules were strict, and you hated feeling trapped. You were used to fighting for everything you had, and the thought of relying on others felt humiliating.
“Just a few more weeks, Y/N,” you told yourself, determination hardening your resolve. “You’ll get back on your feet. You’ll show them all.”
But the loneliness was suffocating. You missed Leah, but the anger kept you from reaching out. You felt abandoned, cast aside like trash, and the thought of showing vulnerability was unbearable.
One night, as you sat in the shelter, you overheard a conversation between two women about job opportunities. They were discussing a local program that helped people get back on their feet—job training, housing assistance, and support.
You listened intently, your heart racing. Maybe this was the opportunity you needed. But the thought of asking for help felt like admitting defeat. You had always been independent, and relying on others was something you had sworn never to do.
But as the days turned into weeks, you realized you couldn’t do it alone. You swallowed your pride and applied for the program, filling out the paperwork with trembling hands.
When you received the acceptance letter, it felt like a lifeline. “Finally,” you whispered to yourself, determination flooding your veins. “This is your chance.”
You threw yourself into the program, attending every workshop and training session. It was exhausting, but you felt like you were finally taking control of your life. You learned new skills, met new people, and slowly began to rebuild your sense of self.
As the months passed, you managed to find a stable job at a local diner. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the bills and allowed you to save for your own place. You felt a sense of pride swell within you—this was your life, and you were finally making it work.
But even as you focused on building your new life, the anger and resentment toward Leah simmered beneath the surface. You would see her on social media, celebrating victories and surrounded by friends, and it only fueled your rage.
“How can she be so happy when I’m out here struggling?” you muttered one night, staring at your phone with clenched fists. “She’s living in a dream world while I’m fighting for survival.”
You felt a mix of jealousy and bitterness, and the thought of reaching out to Leah felt impossible. You had fought so hard to stand on your own, and asking for help would mean admitting defeat.
One evening, as you finished your shift at the diner, you found yourself walking home, the weight of your emotions heavy on your shoulders. You couldn’t shake the feeling of anger that had been building within you.
You passed by the local football pitch, where Leah and her teammates were practicing. You stopped, watching from a distance as she laughed and joked with her friends. The sight twisted a knife in your gut.
“Look at her,” you whispered to yourself. “Living her best life without a care in the world.”
You felt a surge of anger, and before you knew it, you were shouting, “You think you’re so fucking special, don’t you, Leah?”
The laughter on the pitch faded, and Leah turned to look in your direction, confusion etched on her face. “Y/N?” she called out, her voice laced with concern.
But you didn’t want her pity. “Just keep playing your little game, Leah! You’ve got it all figured out, right?”
Leah jogged over, concern quickly replacing the confusion. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Why the hell do you care?” you snapped, your anger boiling over. “You’ve never cared about me before!”
“Y/N, that’s not true!” Leah protested, her eyes wide with hurt. “I’ve always cared! I didn’t know you were struggling!”
“Of course you didn’t! You were too busy being the perfect daughter!” you shouted, tears streaming down your face. “You don’t get to act like you care now!”
“Just talk to me!” Leah pleaded, desperation creeping into her voice. “I want to help!”
“Help? You think you can just waltz in here and fix everything? It doesn’t work that way!” you yelled, feeling the hurt and anger consume you.
Leah took a step back, the hurt in her eyes cutting deep. “I’m not trying to fix anything! I just want to understand!”
“Understand? You’ll never understand what it’s like to feel abandoned!” you spat, turning away from her. “You’re nothing but a fucking reminder of everything I’ve lost!”
With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Leah standing there, shocked and hurt. You felt a mix of satisfaction and pain as you distanced yourself from her.
You had fought so hard to get your life back on track, and the last thing you needed was the reminder of what you had lost. As you walked home, you felt the anger wash over you like a tidal wave.
“Goodbye, Leah,” you whispered bitterly. “You’ll never know how much you hurt me.”
The weeks turned into months, and you focused on your job and building a stable life without Leah. You attended support groups, made new friends, and slowly began to heal the wounds of your past.
But the bitterness remained, a reminder of the sister who had once been your best friend. You had built a life on your terms, but the anger toward Leah kept you from fully embracing it.
As the seasons changed, you found yourself standing on your own two feet. You had managed to secure your own apartment, and for the first time in years, you felt a glimmer of hope.
You had come a long way from the streets, and while the anger still simmered beneath the surface, you were determined to move forward. You had learned to be strong, to rely on yourself, and to never let anyone take that away from you again.
And as you looked out at the city from your new apartment, you knew that you had forged your own path. “I did this,” you whispered to yourself, a sense of pride swelling within you. “I’m nobody’s shadow anymore.”
With the past behind you, you were ready to embrace the future—whatever it may hold.
It was supposed to be a peaceful day. The kind of day that Y/N and Leah loved, filled with quiet drives and lighthearted conversations. After a week of intense training, both were looking forward to a bit of downtime. Leah had suggested a short road trip to the countryside, and Y/N couldn’t argue—spending the afternoon together, winding through the rolling hills and quiet roads, sounded perfect.
Leah had parked her car in the apartment’s underground garage, as she usually did, a spot meticulously chosen to ensure her car was out of harm’s way. Y/N, however, wasn’t used to this kind of care with a vehicle. In the past, she had always treated cars like just another mode of transportation, never really focusing on keeping them pristine. Leah, on the other hand, was a different story—her car was her baby.
Y/N didn’t want to mess up the vibe. She wanted to impress Leah, to show her that she could be just as careful. But as she backed the car into the tight garage space, something went horribly wrong. Her attention had been elsewhere, distracted by the morning's conversation with her teammates. She hadn’t noticed the trash can that had been left in the corner.
The moment she heard the screeching sound—metal against metal—her heart plummeted. Y/N winced, quickly putting the car in park and getting out. Her eyes immediately went to the side of the car, where a long, deep scratch ran across the door.
Her stomach churned. She knew Leah loved this car. She had heard Leah talk about it with so much pride, how she’d worked hard for it, how she maintained it like a precious gem. And now… Y/N had ruined it. In that moment, a thousand thoughts raced through her mind—what if Leah was furious? What if she couldn’t forgive this? What if this was the thing that broke them?
Her palms were sweaty as she ran her hands through her hair in distress. She’s going to hate me. She’s going to break up with me. She’ll never look at me the same way again.
When Leah came back from running errands, she was in a cheerful mood, humming softly as she entered the garage. Seeing Y/N standing near the car, she smiled, but the expression quickly faded as she noticed the tense posture of her girlfriend.
“Hey, babe,” Leah said with a warm smile, walking over to Y/N. “Everything okay?”
Y/N swallowed hard, feeling like her throat was closing up. She could already see the disappointment in Leah’s eyes, even though Leah hadn’t said anything yet. She could hear it in her own head, the sharp edge of anger Leah would surely direct her way.
Y/N took a shaky breath and spoke, her voice small. “Leah… I think I messed up.”
Leah’s smile faded into a look of concern. “What happened?” she asked gently, her eyes scanning Y/N’s face.
“I… I scratched your car,” Y/N muttered, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… it’s pretty bad.”
Leah’s eyes flicked to the side of the car, inspecting the mark. Y/N immediately tensed up, bracing herself for the worst.
Leah didn’t say anything at first. Her brow furrowed slightly, but then, instead of the anger Y/N had feared, Leah took a deep breath and turned toward her, walking slowly.
Y/N couldn’t hold back anymore, and her words rushed out like a dam bursting. “I’m so sorry. I know you love this car. I didn’t mean to. I know it’s your baby, and I just… I didn’t think, and now it’s ruined, and—”
“Y/N,” Leah interrupted softly, taking Y/N’s hands in hers. “Stop.”
Y/N blinked, looking into Leah’s eyes, surprised by the calmness in her voice. Leah stepped closer, brushing a few strands of hair behind Y/N’s ear as she searched her eyes with a tenderness that took Y/N by surprise.
“Look at me, babe,” Leah said, her voice still soothing, yet firm. “I’m not mad. I’m not upset.”
“But it’s your car!” Y/N cried, still feeling the weight of guilt. “You love it, and now it’s… I scratched it, Leah. I’m such an idiot.”
Leah shook her head, a small, reassuring smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “It’s just a scratch, Y/N,” she said, her voice calm, almost amused by how worked up Y/N was. “It’s not the end of the world. I’m more worried about you.”
Y/N’s frown deepened, confused. “Worried about me?”
Leah nodded, taking a step closer, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist. “I can tell you’ve been stressed lately. You’ve had a lot on your mind, and I can see it. But you’re letting something small like this eat at you, and it’s breaking my heart to see you like this.”
Y/N’s shoulders slumped. “I just… I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I thought… I thought maybe you’d break up with me over something so stupid.”
Leah’s expression softened even more. She gently pulled Y/N into her arms, holding her tightly against her chest. “Don’t be silly,” Leah whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “I could never break up with you over something like this. It’s just a car. We can fix it. But if you’re worried about anything, I want you to talk to me about it. Don’t bottle it up.”
Y/N melted into Leah’s embrace, feeling the comfort of her warmth, her steady presence. “I’m sorry, Leah. I didn’t mean to… I just freaked out.”
“Babe,” Leah murmured, brushing her fingers through Y/N’s hair, “I’m not mad at you. I’m just glad you’re okay. And I’m more concerned about your stress than I am about any scratch. We’ll fix it, together.”
Y/N looked up at her, her eyes slightly watery. “You’re really not mad?”
Leah smiled, leaning down to kiss Y/N softly on the lips, a gentle, lingering kiss. “Not at all. I love you, okay? And I love you more than anything, even if your parking skills need a little work,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Y/N laughed quietly, wiping her eyes. “I love you, too. Thank you for being so… understanding. I don’t know why I thought you’d be so upset.”
“Because you’re a bit of a worrywart sometimes,” Leah grinned, her voice playful. “But that’s why you have me. To remind you that not everything is as big a deal as you make it out to be.”
Y/N smiled, finally feeling the weight lift off her shoulders. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Leah squeezed her tight, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll never have to find out. Now, how about we go inside, relax, and forget about the scratch for a bit? We have a whole afternoon ahead of us.”
Y/N nodded, the tension finally gone from her body. As they walked back into their apartment, Y/N felt a rush of love for Leah, for how she always knew just what to say, just how to make everything feel okay.