we never said it out loud
part 1: you always pass to me
Description: It starts on the court, like everything else does. Fast breaks, quiet glances, and a connection that feels too natural to question. No one says anything, but it’s already there.
The gym hums before anything even starts
Low voices bouncing off the high ceiling
The sharp rubber scent of the court
The faint buzz of old lights overhead
Georgia feels it before she sees it
The rhythm
The way everything slows just enough for her to think
The ball hits her palm, leather warm and worn, and she’s already moving
Shoes squeak hard against the floor as she cuts left
A defender shadows her hip, another stepping up too fast
Too predictable
Georgia doesn’t look at them
She doesn’t look at anyone
Because she already knows
Liz is there
She feels it the same way she feels the ball
Certain
So she passes
Quick flick of her wrist, the ball snapping clean through the air
And when it leaves her hands, something in her chest settles
Like it always does
It lands perfectly
Right into Liz’s grip
No hesitation
No adjustment
Just up and in
Two points
The net snaps softly
The sound gets swallowed by the gym noise, but Georgia hears it anyway
She always does
She exhales through her nose, turning up court
Not looking at the scoreboard
Not looking at the bench
Just her
Liz jogs past her, steady, like nothing just happened
But their shoulders brush
Barely
Still enough
“…you didn’t even look,” Liz says, voice low, almost lost under the noise
Georgia smirks, breath still uneven
“…didn’t need to”
She means it
More than she probably should
Liz shakes her head, but there’s something softer in it
Something that lingers a second too long before she looks away
And Georgia feels that too
⸻
Practice drags after that
Or maybe it just feels like it
Georgia sits against the wall when it’s over, the cool surface pressing through her shirt
Her legs stretch out in front of her, muscles still buzzing
A towel hangs around her neck, damp, the smell of sweat and detergent mixing in the air
Her chest rises slower now
But her mind doesn’t settle the same way
Because across the court
Liz is still there
Talking to someone
Nodding along
But her eyes flick over
Once
Twice
More than once
Georgia notices every time
She pretends she doesn’t
Lets her head tip back against the wall instead
But she’s counting
She doesn’t know why she’s counting
⸻
The locker room is quieter later
Lockers half open
The echo of footsteps fading out
Water still dripping somewhere from a shower left running too long
Georgia sits on the bench, tying her shoes tighter than she needs to
Her fingers pause halfway through the knot
Because she hears it
Footsteps
Familiar
She doesn’t look up right away
Doesn’t want it to be obvious
“…you left this,” Liz says
Georgia glances up then
Liz is standing there, hoodie pulled over damp hair, strands sticking slightly to her forehead
Her hand holds out the water bottle
Condensation slick against her fingers
Georgia takes it
Their fingers brush for half a second
Cool against warm
“…you brought it to me?” she asks, lighter than she feels
Liz shrugs
Like it’s nothing
“…you’d forget it”
Georgia smiles, small, instinctive
“…you know me too well”
The words sit there
Heavier than expected
Liz stills just slightly
Barely noticeable
But Georgia sees it
Of course she does
“…someone has to,” Liz says
Quieter now
Georgia leans back against the bench, the wood pressing into her spine
Her thoughts move too fast for once
So she says something instead
“…you’re always open”
Liz frowns slightly
“…what?”
Georgia shrugs, looking down at her hands
“…on the court”
She swallows
“…I don’t have to think about it”
That part slips out before she can stop it
Liz doesn’t respond right away
And the silence stretches
Not uncomfortable
Just… full
When Georgia looks up again
Liz is already looking at her
Not confused
Not joking
Just… there
“…good,” Liz says softly
And it sounds like more than it should
⸻
Outside is cooler
Night air brushing against damp skin
The faint smell of pavement and something distant, like rain that hasn’t started yet
They walk side by side without saying anything
Shoes hitting concrete in the same rhythm
Georgia shoves her hands into her pockets
Her fingers still feel that brief touch from earlier
Like it stuck
“…you ever think about it?” she asks suddenly
Liz glances over
“…what?”
Georgia hesitates
The words sit right there
Too close
Too easy
She exhales instead
Shakes her head
“…nothing”
Liz doesn’t look away immediately
She studies her
Like she knows that wasn’t nothing
But she lets it go
“…you’re weird,” Liz says
Georgia laughs softly, the sound fogging slightly in the cool air
“…you like it”
Liz looks forward again
But there’s a smile she can’t fully hide
“…be serious”
⸻
They stop at the door
Just for a second
Neither reaching for it
The quiet settles around them
Closer now
Georgia leans slightly against the railing, metal cold against her arm
Her voice drops without meaning to
“…you always catch it though”
Liz turns back
“…what?”
Georgia meets her eyes this time
Doesn’t look away
“…when I pass”
Her chest tightens slightly
“…you’re always there”
Liz holds her gaze
Longer than she should
Longer than teammates do
Then finally
“…yeah” she says quietly
A beat
“…I am”
And it lands heavier than anything else they’ve said
Because neither of them adds anything after
Neither of them needs to.
