contains: brat!azzixpleasuredom!paige. porn without plot. dirty talk. dry humping mid-air. cum eating(?). kitchen sex. BRAT TAMER NATION RISE. mean!paige. shower sex. biting. overstimulation as a form of punishment. oral sex (a recieving). ass eating. strap. strap referred to as paige's dick. degradation (slut). dacryphilia. thumb in da booty. implied aftercare.
word count: 4.2k
niyah speaks: this is a blurb i wrote in an ovulation haze and then when i re-read it, i hated it. so i put on pnd4 and edited it... and i still hate it :/ but! i promised @hcneymooners i'd post it, and it also helped me ge tout of my writing slump so maybe i'll finally finish ldayluam chapter four. proof read(not really) as alway, enjoyyy and ttm about it in the inbox.
ONE
over the course of their relationship, paige had grown accustomed to how needy azzi was. it wasn't like she was that way on purpose. it was just natural for azzi to want everything she could possibly get her hands on. the difference between paige and the average human being was, she wholeheartedly believed that azzi deserved everything she ever thought of wanting.
and they were older now— less clumsy and more sure. but paige was just as dedicated to giving azzi what she wanted as she'd ever been. and all day, azzi wanted a reaction out of paige.
they'd gone to the state fair together, and azzi had made it her personal mission to drive paige absolutely insane. she'd been touching and feeling and whispering little devious nothings, and then she'd separate herself with a giggle and a scratch of her nails against paige's forearms. paige had spent all day with azzi pressed against her, holding her— teasing her. she'd been teasing her. she knew what the fuck she'd been doing. and she knew that there was nothing paige could really do about it until they got home.
they were home now.
it started merely as a placing of hands. paige just wanted to touch her at first. she wanted to touch her over and over again and drive her crazy so that they'd be even.
so after she locked their front door, paige crept up behind azzi, who was putting their food in the refrigerator, and slid her arms around so that one hand was splayed across azzi's ribs, and the other was just outside of her inner thigh. they were almost the same height, but azzi was so small in paige's hands.
the moment paige touched her, azzi fell into the woman behind her. she tossed her head against paige's shoulder, and pressed her ass into paige's hips and let out a long breath through her nose.
"hi, baby." she cooed, trying to take paige's hands in hers.
this was how she did it. how she got everyone to bend to her will. she'd drive them right to the edge and then turn soft and pliable like nothing had happened at all.
paige knew better.
she rotated her wrist before azzi could interlock their fingers so instead, she took azzi's wrists in her hands and held them tight.
"hey, mama." paige smiled into azzi's shoulder, amused at the gasp her girlfriend let out. "you okay?"
"mhm." azzi breathed out, and when paige opened her mouth and sucked at dip between azzi's neck and collarbone, she nodded her head as if that action solidified the answer.
paige kept kissing at azzi's neck, taking her time with it. her mouth moved slow, down to azzi's shoulder then all the way back up to her ear. she abused the flesh, scraping her teeth along it before alleviating it with her tongue. her hands wandered, slipping under azzi's shirt and over her ass.
she wanted to stay there for a while, dragging it out. holding her girlfriend against her, soaking in every whine azzi let out. but then azzi turned in her arms and pressed her lips to paige's and well… plans change.
azzi's mouth was hot against paige's. her whole body was warm, a flame burning through every layer of clothes between them. she was so fucking beautiful. five feet eleven inches of smooth brown skin and raw fucking greed.
she was so damn greedy. but maybe paige was, too. because she deepened the kiss, wanting more of azzi— wanting all of azzi. she pressed her against the now-closed refrigerator and hooked one of her legs around her. they were closer. no space between them. azzi was eating it up, her hands moving against whatever piece of paige she could get to. she was grinding, bending her spine however she could to get some sort of relief.
paige knew she wanted more because she was azzi and azzi was insatiable. but that was the point, wasn't it? paige would always give her all that she wanted.
a gasp slipped from azzi's throat when paige lifted her other leg up, sweeping her complety off the ground and into the fridge. paige swallowed it, opening her mouth wider against azzi's.
azzi was like putty in her hands, locking her ankles beind paige's back and holding her shoulders. somewhere in paige's brain, she smiled because azzi trusted that she would keep her up. she felt safe in paige's hands. but the forefront of her brain told her to laugh, because azzi was absolutely not safe in paige's hands. she was pissed off and horny with a point to prove— never a safe situation.
especially not with azzi's pussy burning through her biker shorts. paige could feel it, and she moaned at the sensation before licking from azzi's mouth her jaw. her fingers curled around the ass in her palms. there was so much heat meeting her at every touch. she was obsessed. with the way azzi felt, the way she smelled, the way she sounded.
she was already moaning in paige's ear, her forehead pressed to the blondes temple. she was squeezing paige's shoulders so tight, she knew they'd be bruised. obviously, she didn't give a damn. no, she was too busy trying to get into azzi's shorts.
literally.
there was no space between them, so it was an awkward journey, but paige got there. she slid her hand passed the band of azzi's shorts, then her panties, until she felt azzi's mess right above her pussy. she was soaked, leaking all over herself.
she was hungry for it— desperate even.
god, paige could feel it. she pressed her palm against azzi's mound, and the moment she did so, she felt azzi grind down against it, her pussy leaving a sopping trail behind with each pass. she whined in paige's ear before kissing her again. azzi's thumb brushed along paige's throat before she slid her hands into her hair.
"baby," azzi whined, the word ending with a wet crack. "you feel so good."
she didn't stop fucking herself against paige's hand, and paige didn't stop sucking at the skin of azzi's neck. in an ordinary situation, paige would have slid two fingers into azzi and finger fucked her against the fridge until she came all over herself. but this wasn't an ordinary situation, and paige wasn't in the mood to make it easy. she pulled her hand out of azzi's shorts. when azzi whined and stopped the movement of her hips, paige took her wet hand and gripped her jaw.
she was already a bit of a mess. they'd hardly done anything yet and azzi was already reaching peak pillow princess mode, where she didn't want to do a damn thing but be taken care of.
tuh.
paige smiled a little and tapped azzis cheek before locking her hands together under her ass. "go get it, then."
azzi opened her eyes and looked at paige. it was only a few seconds, but paige was watching her in slow motion. she watched azzi's whole face change, going from its frustrated scrunch to a soft pout. in real time, paige watched her brows soften and her lips untighten.
something evil in paige lit up watching azzi realize what was about to happen to her. watching her mentally prepare herself to be put through hell. a sense of pride hit her, too, when she felt azzi's hips start to roll against her stomach.
paige's shirt had ridden up, but there was still layers of clothes between them. either way, azzi wouldn't be stopped. she wanted to cum, even if she had to work for it this time. she moved slow at first before eventually speeding up, pressing herself hard against paige's abs.
paige almost couldn't hold her. she'd almost lost her grip, but, determined to see the fireworks pop in azzi's eyes, she fixed her grip then slapped azzi's ass.
"work for that shit," she said, moving so her stomach met azzi's pussy halfway. "you feel that?"
"yes baby—fuck," azzi moaned, pushing paige's shirt further up so she could claw at her back. she pulled at the skin, scratched it, soothed it..
it felt kind of violent. their pace shook paige's heartbeat out its rhythm, forcing it into something quicker—harder. everything was booming around her. the hum of the refridgerator, the sound of azzi falling apart right in her ear, the sound of her own breath tumbling out of her mouth. everything was being recieved in the largest amount, and paige felt like she was experiencing the best high of her life.
she had her beautiful girlfriend literally in her arms, humping her like a bitch in heat, about to cum from something as slight as dry humping. she just couldn't believe she had it like that. she kept meeting azzi, kept fueling that fire she knew was building.
she licked at azzi's neck then moved to her cheek, licking at the wetness there from her hand. she slid her tongue along her face, trying to get every hint of azzi she could.
"i'm gonna cum," azzi announced, throwing her head back as she took paige's in her hands. "paige, baby you're gonna make me cum."
paige kept going, and when azzi's mouth fell open, and her nails scraped against the edges of paige's scalp, she pressed herself against azzi one last time, hard and sure, and stayed there, letting the orgasm travel through her girlfriend's entire body.
TWO-THREE
paige held azzi's neck as she kissed her against their shower wall. they hadn't washed yet, too busy trying to fuse into one another. she wasn't choking her or anything, she just had her hand there as a reminder that azzi couldn't get out of this. that they were gonna go until paige said they were done.
"you think you fuckin slick." paige took azzi's nipple between her thumb and index finger and pinched, licking at azzi's bottom lip when her mouth popped open. "but imma show you."
she bent down and took one of azzi's tits into her mouth, swirling her tongue around her nipple before moving to the other one. her free hand crept down the front azzi's body, following the path from her bellybutton to her pussy.
she rolled azzi's clit between her index and middle finger, squeezing it tight between her knuckles.
azzi's breath caught, her chest shaking as the air tried to fight its way out. when paige delivered two firm slaps to her pussy, she reached to grab her wrist. but when paige rubbed the ball of her palm against her pussy, azzi redirected and placed her hands on paige's hips.
"paige." she said it like it was a warning. with wide eyes and shaking hands, azzi was already close.
that's good. paige thought. she wanted azzi at that edge. she wanted her there all fucking night, just ready to give until she had nothing left. still sucking at azzi's nipple, paige slipped two fingers into her sopping pussy.
"paige." this time, she said it like a thank you. like she was oh-so-grateful to be getting stretched open. "oh my god."
azzi's back arched off the tile of the shower, shoving her breast further into paige's mouth. her teeth scraped against the skin, and she had to breath though her nose, but paige kept going still. she fucked her fingers into azzi, her pussy taking her in and keeping her there. she curled her fingers so that she was touching the spot that made azzi preen.
"pussy too fucking good." she kept pushing at the gummy spot, fucking into a whimpering azzi. "that's why you act like that, huh?" she sucked at the knob of bone that appeared everytime azzi sucked in a breath.
"you wanna fuck around all day because you know you'll have your way, huh?" she kept going down until she was on her knees, where she bit the muscle on azzi's hip until it flushed a deep shade of red. "you just think imma always give you what you want? is that it?"
fucked out and heaving, azzi leaned over so that her tits were back in paige's face, and her hands were wrapped around her head. she was right there. paige could feel the way azzi was dripping down her wrist, and the way her pussy was spasming around her fingers.
paige leaned up and whispered in azzi's ear. "you'n hear me talking to you?"
azzi didn't answer, just gripped paige's wet hair. the blonde didn't expect an answer, but she still let the laugh leave her lips because azzi being incoherant from being fucked was almost as adroable as it was sexy as hell.
she pressed an open mouth kiss to azzi's cheek. "'s okay." she said, crouching down even further.
"imma give it to you anyway." with what she knew was an evil ass grin, paige slid a third finger, stretching azzi further. "even though you never listen, and you can't answer a simple fucking question, imma give my girl what she wants."
azzi let out a small scream at the addition, but paige knew her girlfriend. knew what she could take. she knew the stretch of it all was something euphoric to azzi. which is why she didn't let her adjust before she upped her speed and wrapped her lips around azzi's clit.
she sucked at the bud, entirely encouraged by the hot water beating into her back, and the sound of azzi's strangled cries above her.
"my princess." she groaned into azzi, lapping at her pussy. "so fucking pretty, and this pussy tastes so fucking good."
she continued her pace and multitasking. her arm burned and her hand was cramping, but she kept going because she could see a ring of white pooling around her knuckles.
"im— fuck i'm gonna cum," azzi whimpered into paige's head. "oh my god i'm gonna cum."
and so she did. azzi's knee's buckled when she came, and she began sliding down the wall of the shower but of course, paige caught her. she wasn't done.
paige slipped her fingers out and grabbed both of azzi's thighs, holding them up against the wall. and she ate, tasting the cum that dribbled down azzi's thighs and the arousal that continued to gloss over the pink of azzi's swollen clit.
"fuck baby, wait." azzi moved to close her legs, but paige kept them in place, leaning up so she had that much more room. azzi fisted her hair, tugging it before pushing at paige's forehead. "'s too much."
looking up though her lashes, paige pulled away. "oh you can talk now?"
she didn't even give azzi the chance to try and form an answer. she dove back in, sucking azzi's clit back into her mouth.
"shiiiiit." azzi's whole body sputtered, and she threw her head back with a thump against the wall.
paige folded her hands together, placing them flat on azzi's lower belly. she thought it was cute, smirking into her pussy as azzi's hips fought to leave her and her hand spasmed in her hair. she kept her mouth on azzi's clit, swiping her tongue against it in wet passes.
"this is what you wanted right?" paige asked from between her legs, knowing that azzi was about to burst again. she was answered with a scream and a shove into the spray of the shower.
azzi's legs trembled beneath her, and she slid down the wall landing on her ass. her knees came together and her hand flew between her legs, trying to calm down the feeling that had taken over her.
paige leaned forward, kissing her girl's forehead. "imma fuck you til you can't take it no more." she pecked her cheek, then her lips. when she pulled away, she held azzi's head so that she had no choice but to focus those big brown pools of want on paige.
"and then imma fuck you some more."
FOUR-SEVEN
azzi's leg shook in the air as paige's strap broke into her. she let out a low ugh, then threw an arm over her rolling eyes. her marked tits bounced with every slow stroke paige gave her with the strap.
paige tapped her elbow, telling her to put it down. “i wanna see that pretty fucking face when you cum again.” she said, holding azzi's other leg around her waist. "i needa make sure you feel me."
paige was entranced by her view. azzi on her back, bruised and wet and flushed, taking her dick like a fucking champ. she never wanted to forget the sight. she wanted azzi's open mouth and frizzy hair and wet lashes burned into the back of her eyelids.
she leaned in close, forcing azzi's knee to her chest, as she further violated the skin of azzi's neck. she felt azzi's jaw go slack, reaching behind her head to clutch a pillow.
"you feel me, az?"
"i feel you, baby." azzi nodded into paige's shoulder. "so fuckin full, oh my god."
"yeah?" still going slow, paige looked between them, watching herself slide in out, hearing the squelch of azzi's messy pussy taking her. "you gonna cum for me again?"
azzi threw her arms around paige's shoulders and dug her teeth into her shoulder, the muscle bending under the bite. they were chest to chest now, tits sliding against each others, breaths fanning each other's ears.
"gonna cum on my dick?" paige rolled her hips, hitting azzi so deep she knew the girl could taste the orgasm building. "be my little slut and make a mess all over me?"
azzi let out a choked oh shit, before pushing her hips up to meet paige's strokes.
"so deep," she sighed, clearly towing the line. her voice was strained and tired, and her throat was moving with every swallow, like she was struggling to perform automatic bodily function.
"i'm deep mama?" paige's mouth watered at how tight azzi was against the strap. if she could, she would have done years of scientific research to discover how the fuck she thought she could actually feel the vice grip azzi had on the silicone between her legs. because damn, she swore she could feel that shit, and it had her own pussy throbbing. she placed a hand between them, pushing on azzi's lower belly. "you feel me right here, huh?"
azzi whimpered, eyes crossed under their lids as paige fucked her just a little bit harder. slow, rough, deep strokes were tearing her apart and she could do nothing but exactly what paige wanted.
"i'm so close, paige." she moaned. "i'm right there."
"do it." paige demanded. "cum, azzi."
screaming into paige's shoulder, azzi came again, cum spilling around paige's strap and staining her thighs.
paige didn't stop, she tugged azzi's trembling leg from over her shoulder so that she was on her side, both legs pressed together against her chest while paige fucked into her faster and harder, gripping and pulling her thigh for momentum.
"waitwaitwait," azzi keeled over, face buried in the pit between her legs. she reached out for paige's arm, but she was so far gone that she ended up aimlessly flapping her thigh, which was already covered in pebbles of sweat. "its— 's too much— i can't."
paige smiled because yes, azzi could. and she would.
"you did it to yourself, mama." paige said, thrusting her hips as hard as she could. "i'm just giving you what you been wantin."
azzi's ass clapped against her thigh, her whole body rocking with every stroke. her head still buried between her knees but paige could see her mouth moving, stuttering out whatever she could.
she leaned over—still stroking— and gripped azzi's neck, squeezing a little so she'd raise her head up.
"fucking you like this cuz that's what you asked for." she said, moving her thumb so it slid passed azzi's lips. "'s what you need. you just need to be made a mess."
she looked over her girlfriend. her stubborn, bratty, beautiful girl was tonguing at the pad of paige's thumb and looking at her like she didn't know anything but this.
"i wish you could see how fucked out you look." paige huffed out a laugh. "pussy just soaking me back in and you got stars in your eyes. eatin it up. drooling all on my pillows, fucking up my sheets"
her pillows. her sheets. her pussy. her tears. her azzi. this was all hers.
"you like it, don't you?" paige asked, pushing her thumb against azzi's tongue, watching it flatten as she stuck it out. "you like it when i'm turning this pussy inside out? bein slutted out like this?"
azzi's mouth stayed occupied with paige's thumb. and paige knew azzi was hardly concious, and that she'd let it slide earlier.
but it was her pussy. her mouth. her azzi. and she could do whatever the hell she wanted with what belonged to her. she ripped her hand away and cracked a palm against azzi's ass.
"answer me."
"yes!" azzi shouted, hugging her knees. "fuck i love it," she cried, tears streaming down her face. "love you— paige you're gonna make me cum again holy shit!"
paige forced azzi's legs apart and swiped her fingers against the puffy flesh, and azzi literally screamed out and balled her hands into fists against her chest as she came again, creaming around the light purple strap.
paige watched as it smeared across the silicone and fuck she wanted to taste her again.
she slowed, fucking her through it, still ghosting her fingers over her clit. azzi mewled under her until she realized her throat was raw, and paige took that moment to flip her onto her belly and arch so that she could put her mouth to azzi.
her tongue rolled through azzi's folds again, her eyes fluttering closed as she fell into it. the groan azzi let out sounded so rough, paige imagined it had to claw it's way out of the woman's throat. she felt azzi trembling, her whole body vibrating as paige palmed at her ass. she spread her open, and licked at azzi's asshole, too. she went on like that, licking azzi from front to back until she was writhing again, wailing that she was about to cum yet again.
she held her in place and focused all of her attention to azzi's pussy, sticking her tongue in the gummy hole and fucking her that way. she felt azzi's orgasm build around her tongue, and she tasted the tang of that pressure exploding in her mouth. she shook her head, trying to stay in place despite azzi moving so much.
when azzi started to crawl, paige felt herself be taken over by someone she'd never quite met. she popped her head up, strap dangling between her legs.
"uh-uh." she stood on her feet and lurched forward, grabbing azzi by her hips and dragging all the way to the edge of the bed. "bring yo ass back.
she lined the strap up with azzi's pussy, then gripped both of her shoulders, forcing her back onto it. azzi let out a sob, head hanging foreward as paige began to pound into her.
"so fucking greedy." she changed her gip, wrapping her hands around each of azzi's biceps from behind. "greedy pussy cryin for me, taking my dick like you'n know what else to do."
azzi kept shaking against her, not moving on her own. she just let herself be pushed and pulled by paige, taking it all. there was nowhere she could go, nothing she could do but take it.
paige's eyes stayed on azzi's pussy, mesmerized by the way her strap disappeard in azzi. inandout inandout, she kept going. even when her clit was rubbig against the hardness. even when her own orgasm chased her down and washed over. she kept going, fucking and fucking, losing herself in the motion and noise and sight.
azzi's hands flexed in and out of their fists and and herpussy clenched faster around the strap. and paige knew.
"paige i can't—" azzi weeped. "can't take it."
"yeah you can." paige went even harder, mustering up every bit of motivation she had left. "c'mon gimme one more."
she let go of one of azzi's arms, pinning the other one to her back. she pumped her hips and circled azzi's ass with her thumb. azzi whined, arching into the mattress and fisting the sheets with her free hand.
"let it go one more time," paige sucked her thumb and pushed it passed the entrance she'd been spiraling, easing it into azzi and she used the arm she was still holding as an achor to dig azzi out. "'t's gonna feel so good. let it go. all over me. lemme pull it outta you, c'mon mama."
and at last, azzi howled into the mattress and jerked forward into a ball at the head of the bed, cupping her pussy and shaking like a leaf in a storm.
paige, out of breath and overcome with pride, crawled up the bed and took her girlfriend in her arms, hugging her against her chest and let azzi's tears stream against her collarbone.
synopsis: paige and azzi have been blurring lines since they were kids. eventually, the lines disappear entirely.
cw: medium burn best friends to lovers, mutual pining, emotional repression and yearning like you wouldn't believe, gaslighting yourself into believing you and your best friend are just platonic, angst, injury, jealousy, communication issues (they're so bad at talking; let's hear it for avoidant attachment), codependency but make it romantic, religious imagery, sexual content, non-sexual intimacy, neither of them knows how to be normal about each other.
notes: friends to lovers, you will always be famous. we are playing fast and loose with the timeline, okay, including roster. so bear with me, please. i hope you all enjoy. as always, let me know what you think. all my love. x
PRELUDE. SARASOTA / RIGHT HERE / LIL PEEP
with every flex of azzi’s shoulder blades, paige felt a warm urge rise. it’s how she knew she was in trouble, the first sign of falling, like a fin cutting through the water beneath their feet.
the morning had come with strength, glazed with light and collared thickly with heat that made the air feel wet and spoke of lasting a full day’s length. paige watched as the room grew skin and bone, the shadows beaten back by the fervent gold kisses of the sun, light singing across her face as she shifted carefully so that azzi settled further into the shaded dip of the bed’s dusty pink pillows. there was something nearly religious in it, the way dawn made its claim without mercy, always assuming there was space for its presence—this way it thrusted everything into living.
sarasota was symptomatic of the typical florida feeling: flat palms, white roads, a sky too blue to be trusted backed by the wide rise of dimpled dunes in the distance. this was a state that promised a dream that always threatened to linger for far too long, that began to feel heavy around the mouth and eyes until you were blinking tiredly with the hope you’d wake up somewhere else. everything here felt half-remembered, had the lingering quality of a grip around the wrist that refused to break.
paige glanced down at where azzi was tucked into her body, coiled slightly as if moments from bursting into motion. she always began the night in fetal position, her limbs drawn into her like a secret, the entirety of her body sheltered by someone who loved her. then, like a flower, she opened and opened until she was pressed fully out, nearly knocking the other girl loose from the bed entirely.
but paige always adjusted, always found a way to resettle in a way that allowed them to touch and prioritized azzi’s comfort. this was a language they could utter in the dark, syntax built from years of sleeping in the same bed, an endless communication of need and accommodation.
eventually, summer took the remains of the evening by the teeth and wrung out every bit of darkness, biting and biting until its gold painted itself onto the plump of azzi’s cheek. with a groan, azzi curled into a tighter spiral before stretching out into a full line, her ribs layered for a moment onto paige’s own.
paige smiled softly, lips splitting with slight discomfort provided by the dehydration of sleep. she bent down, nosing at the dark crown of azzi’s head before thumbing back a patch of curls to press a kiss to the temple.
“up, princess. we have a date to keep.”
azzi groaned again, but paige felt her toes curling against her calf underneath the linen duvet as she began to stretch.
the bathroom held them in its small white throat, made smaller by their bodies moving around each other in the steam. paige stood at the sink, toothbrush working mechanically, while through the fogged glass of the shower she could see the ghost of azzi—head tilted back, throat exposed to the water's violence.
she looked away. looked back. looked away again.
she could hear her mother like a choir’s call in her head: girls, there are six bathrooms in this house alone. you don’t have to share one.
but why would she go somewhere where azzi wasn’t?
when paige took her turn under the spray, the water still seemed to hold azzi's warmth, and the air was thick with the scent of her shampoo: coconut and vanilla orchid, a sweetness that landed neatly at the back of paige’s tongue, enough to make her mouth water. she stood there longer than necessary, letting the heat work at the knots in her shoulders, trying to wash away the feeling that had been strengthening since dawn.
by the time she emerged, azzi was at the mirror, bent close as her fingers moved in careful circles as she worked sunscreen into her skin. the cream disappeared in small increments, absorbed into the brown warmth of her face. paige watched the ritual of it, transfixed by the deliberate slowness, by the way azzi's lips parted slightly as she concentrated on the vulnerable skin beneath her eyes.
"you're staring," azzi murmured, the words tempered with affection, never once looking away from her reflection.
"making sure you don't miss anywhere," paige said, moving into the narrow space beside her. their elbows knocked. "your ears. you always forget."
azzi tilted her head in offering, and paige dabbed the cream behind her ear, along the hinge of her jaw. the touch stretched longer than it needed to, her thumb following the curve where azzi's pulse beat visibly beneath the skin. in the mirror, their eyes met, something passing between them as quick as lightning, gone before it could scar.
“thank you, paigey,” azzi teased, eyes crinkling as she smiled. paige knew she was baiting her, and so she rose to it dramatically, rolling her eyes ‘til the blue of them was at the sky and then back to her again.
“what would you do without me?” paige sighed, crossing her arms before breaking into the wide stretch of her smile, the pink tip of her tongue peeking from between her teeth.
azzi shoved her lightly as she ducked back into the room to grab her swimsuit, laughing as paige pretended to stumble from the non-existent intensity.
they drove from the rental house with the windows down, hair already sticking to their necks after ten minutes spent sitting in the driveway as they argued over aux, salt freckling on their skin as the breeze burned itself out in the same loop.
azzi was twisted away from paige, face always turned to the water, but she smiled when she heard the beginning riff of “right here” by lil peep spill from the speakers. paige felt the motion rather than saw it, and she dropped one hand from the creamy leather of the land rover’s steering wheel to the console, where she turned it upward so that azzi could slide her palm on top. their fingers entwined, and azzi settled further into the seat, looking forward now, sunglasses taking the brunt of the day’s radiation.
paige knew that her eyes were most likely closed beneath the lenses, those dark lashes lush and eternally romantic against the high bones of her cheeks. she wanted to reach over and lift them, just to check, just to see if she was right, but she kept her hand where it was, thumb stroking absently across azzi's knuckles. the rhythm matched nothing but her own heartbeat.
they drove in silence, their shared playlist doing the work of holding conversation, only breaking when paige squeezed azzi’s hands so that she could see the wild horses disappearing into the vast horizon—coats brindled, feet wild, eyes dark as her own.
the parking lot was half-empty and composed of crushed shell and white dust, gulls wheeling overhead in patterns that could’ve been symbolic to someone more spiritual. paige pulled into a spot near the weathered walkway, and they unloaded the boards from the roof rack. paige did most of the lifting while azzi steadied them, her fingers trailing tentatively on the waxed surfaces.
the boards themselves were perfect illustrations of how well they worked: paige's a cream white with a thin navy stripe running down its center, the fiberglass worn smooth from years of use, scarred in places where rocks had kissed it recklessly; azzi's a pale pink scattered with hand-painted hibiscus, delicate and almost too precious for the water, chosen because she'd gasped delightedly when she saw it leaning against the rental shop wall.
they walked the wooden planks toward the water, past sea oats genuflecting in the wind, past the scattered abandonments of towels and umbrellas. the gulf stretched before them, turquoise bleeding into navy where the sandbar dropped away into nothing.
"ready?" paige asked, board under her arm, eyes always ahead.
azzi looked at the water, then at paige, then back at the water.
"ready," she echoed, but her voice snagged halfway. paige reached to the side, squeezing the side of her stomach before beginning to walk. she waded in first, the cold a bright shock against her sun-spoiled skin, and turned to watch azzi follow more slowly, testing each step as if the bottom might give way. as if the whole world might.
paige bit her bottom lip, that familiar feeling tugging at her belly, that desire to protect azzi from everything, even her own fears.
now they drifted, the boards swaying where the gulf turned from light to dark. azzi sat stiff-backed, a different picture than the version of her in the car and even the holiday house. she was overly cautious, eyes darting between the horizon and the glossy water that hid whatever lived below. paige watched her shoulder blades shift, like an angel searching for the reassurance of their wings, stomach contracting as she tried to keep her rising anxiety at a shallow level.
here it felt strange and wide, for her; far from safe. paige couldn’t help the uptick of the corners of her mouth, her eyes falling to the way azzi’s fingers were clenched along the round edge of her board.
“you okay, princess?”
“i can’t see the bottom,” azzi said, voice thin and high.
it reminded paige of their middle school days, when she would coax azzi into watching a horror film—slasher or creature horror, never “elevated”, whatever that meant—only to relish in the feeling of her best friend practically climbing into her lap, eyes screwed shut tightly, hands over her ears.
“that’s okay. don’t need to.” paige paddled closer, knees brushing azzi’s thigh as the boards bumped. “you got me.”
the world narrowed to this: the hum of cicadas from somewhere offshore, the slide of water against fiberglass, the sun leaning in as if to commit them to memory. paige reached to steady her, fingers at azzi's waist, skin damp and sun-warmed. she slid them down, always keeping contact, fingertips playing with the docile bows of azzi's bikini bottom.
this swimsuit was one of paige’s favorites, a bright cobalt that made azzi's skin look like something poured bronze straight from a tap. the top was a simple triangle cut that tied behind her neck, the bottoms sitting low on her hips with bows at each side like two small promises waiting to be broken. the color reminded paige of the deep end of pools, those spaces where light couldn't reach, of drowning as a choice rather than an accident.
she’d texted azzi a week before, reminding her to bring it.
around her neck, azzi had tied a beaded choker—white and blue ascending wth each breath, glittering proudly in the sunlight—and paige found herself watching every shift, every single thing about how azzi moved, like she was down to seven more minutes living and was trying to never forget.
azzi breathed shallowly, chest rising under the spaghetti straps, eyes blinking warily.
paige tilted her head, touching her chin.
“princess, look at me.”
azzi obeyed, that cervine gaze peering up from underneath her lashes, her cheek momentarily dimpled as she chewed the inside of her cheek to pieces. for a moment, paige didn’t think and leaned forward, loose strands of blonde tumbling from her bun with the movement. she thumbed at the bottom of azzi’s lip with her index finger, slipping it slightly inside when azzi’s teeth parted, and tugged the tissue from between her molars.
“stop it. you know it’s gonna hurt you later.”
“yeah,” azzi said quietly, “thanks.” her breath ghosted warm against paige's finger. neither moved to sever the contact, the moment pulled taut as wire, singing with the tension.
paige looked at her then, and it was as if the sea had vanished. there was only the shimmer of light across azzi’s eyes, the dark bloom of her curls—the volume slightly dampened with saltwater—, and the faint tremor that ran through her body as she tried to keep steady on the waves. paige felt the shake of her own pulse move up through her arms, a tide she couldn’t turn back.
“you’re okay,” paige murmured. “just breathe. just look at me.”
paige knew, even then, that something in her had begun to tip. a shift too subtle to name, but irreversible. the sluice of her blood to a single point of gravity. she felt it in the hush that followed, in the fever snaking beneath her skin and working at her neck. in the way, azzi’s gaze never left its fixed point on her face, muscles relaxing as she gazed deeply at the one thing she had always known how to love.
there was a knowing then that they both were teetering at the edge of a cliff with rocks at the bottom, black and jagged, aching for a fall. whatever it was had already started to pull paige over, and her only thought was to twist so that it was her against the stone, and azzi against only her.
always this. always her body as the barrier between azzi and the breaking.
I. MINNESOTA / STELLATE / SAMIA.
when azzi arrived like the following july, like summer itself—immediate and without warning—paige had been half expecting her in the way you learn to expect a storm by the air’s sudden weight and the ache in the injury that’s spent half your life wounding you. all that dragging and the sudden onslaught.
paige could always feel it when azzi was near, even her entrance past state lines. she’d dubbed it their “twin thing” affectionately in high school, mostly because it was true, but also because every time she said azzi would correct her, so automatic.
paige, she’d protest. we can’t have that. we’re best friends.
can’t we? paige would always murmur, fingers stretching out to thumb at some part of azzi that was within reach. we could be the first.
and azzi would always fold, her smile fleeting but so tender. it felt good to be on that podium, even when azzi was only letting her win.
so, at the tail end of july, when azzi came sailing easily through paige’s front door, words tumbling over themselves in their excitement, landing on the forest green cotton hill of her beloved weekend duffle before sliding to the floor, sentences breaking apart before they could finish forming—paige was not as shocked as someone else might have been.
and by the time paige had fully registered her presence, the familiar cut of that gentle dove-like voice cutting through the once-impenetrable minnesota heat, settling into every inch of the negative space coalescing around her body as she stood frozen in time on her carpeted stairs, azzi had already climbed past her and begun the pilgrimage to her bed.
she turned at the last moment, mouth soft and pink as she beamed, pleased with herself, and said,
“grab me something, will you? or like, make your snack plate twice as big.”
paige usually would balk at sharing her well-earned snacks, but this time she did nothing but grin back, hands bunching at the hem of her oversized sweatshirt bought from the state fair, the same confectionery pink as the cotton candy they always got sick on.
when paige returned to her bedroom, azzi only allowed her a few minutes to set the plate (packed to the brim) on her nightstand before she tugged the other girl down so that she could climb eagerly on top of paige's stomach, straddling her with the unfaltering confidence of someone who had done this a thousand times before and would do it a thousand times over.
"i did it," azzi said, breathless, her hands braced on paige's shoulders like she was trying to hold the world—her world in place. "i fucking did it. i committed to uconn."
the pajamas she wore were almost indecent in their brevity, a matching set in striped grey and white, the shorts so short they barely qualified as clothing, riding high enough that the white band at the waistband cut into the soft give of her hips. the tank top was thin enough to be translucent where paige’s lamp light hit it, so flimsy and forgiving, spaghetti-strapped and pulled taut across her chest in a way that made it impossible not to notice the shape of her, the rise of her breasts and how they had always sat so nicely; the way her body had continued its relentless work of becoming hers.
paige felt something lurch in her chest, a fish hooked and thrashing.
"you're fucking with me," paige managed, but she was already grinning, her hands coming up instinctively to rest on azzi's hips, thumbs sliding beneath the hem of the tank top to press against skin that was exertion-warm, damp from the heat. she felt the joy grow, the spiral dizzying and setting a buzzing off in both rows of teeth. "you actually did it?"
"i actually did it." azzi was bouncing slightly, unable to contain the energy thrumming wildly through her body like an electrical current, and each movement sent a matching voltage through paige's stomach, made her fingers tighten their grip until she could feel the bones of azzi's hips pressing back against her palms. "we're going to play together. can you believe it? we're going to—"
"—be everyone’s worst fucking nightmare," paige finished, and she sat up slightly, engaging her core to bring herself closer, enough to wrap her arms fully around azzi's waist and pull her in. the shift in position brought them chest to chest, azzi's knees bracketing paige's ribs, thighs pressed warm and solid against her sides, and for a moment they just stayed there, pressed together in the pale wash of moonlight that filtered through the window and painted everything the color of pearl, of something delicate enough to perish with a single touch.
paige nearly wept at the feel of it, this closeness.
always this, she thought desperately. always this.
paige could feel azzi's heartbeat slowing to replicate the path of her own, could feel it hammering away like a flock of birds attempting jailbreak from the skin, could smell the faint scent of her lotion, something bright and wane that made paige think of tiare flower and wedding arrangements and white dresses and white suits, mixed with the clean smell of recently washed skin and underneath it all—something earthier, more animal.
azzi’s hair was still damp at the ends, as if she’d climbed into the car drenched and frantic to get to the woman she had beneath her now, curling slightly as it dried, so dark, so beloved. paige found herself staring at the way it stuck to her neck, at the way droplets of water had gathered in the glistening hollow of her throat—brown column gleaming—and sat there glittering like gems cut to the smallest carat.
she wanted to press her mouth there. apply pressure.
she wanted to taste the freshwater, the sweat, the salt.
the thought came unbidden and left her breathless, a hummingbird state of mind. it left her feeling like she'd been running sprints in the heat until her lungs burned and her vision went white at the edges. she forced herself to look away, counting to twenty seconds and cutting five short as she did her best to focus on something else, anything else, but there was nowhere safe to look. everywhere was just more of azzi: pictures of her, chicly faded from many a photobooth, the curve of her shoulder, the demanding jut of her collarbone, the way her stomach flexed with each intake of air, the small gold pandora heart at her throat catching light.
"can’t believe you drove in matching pajamas to come and tell me this," paige said finally, her voice rougher than she intended, scraped raw. her hands had started traveling of their own accord, fingers tracing idle patterns on azzi's sides, feeling the give of her waist, the way her body was all softness layered deceptively over something stronger, the tension of ambitious muscle beneath the yielding.
azzi pulled back enough to look at her, eyebrows raised, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. the movement made her shift in paige's lap, made everything worse.
"do you have an issue with my pajamas, bueckers?"
"mmm, no. promise. not much of anything to have an issue with anyway." paige's eyes dropped again, helpless, tracking the way the shorts had ridden up even higher, the way they revealed the dark expanse of azzi's thighs, smooth and endless. azzi struck her shoulder playfully at the comment. "they're just very, um, coordinated. like always. always matching."
"so?" azzi's cheeks were flushed, though whether from excitement or their mixed body heat or something else entirely, paige couldn't tell. didn't want to guess. "i like to match. it's cute."
"it is cute," paige agreed, and then, because she couldn't help herself, because the proximity to her favorite girl on earth always made her reckless and azzi was sitting on top of her looking like every slick, sweet dream paige had ever tried to forget and failed, she added: "i bet your underwear matches too. let me guess—" she tilted her head, made a show of thinking about it, even as her thumbs pressed more firmly into azzi's hips, even as she felt the hitch in azzi's breathing. "grey? no, wait. white. has to be white to match the waistband."
azzi went very still. the flush on her cheeks deepened, spreading down her neck to disappear beneath the neckline of her tank top, and paige watched it go, watched the way azzi's skin betrayed her, the way her body could never keep a secret, always spilling its guts if paige showed a hint that she wanted to know. "no. shut up."
paige cracked out a victorious laugh, a flash of pride searing through her.
"i'm right, though, aren't i?" paige was grinning now, wolfish, enjoying the way azzi's composure had cracked, the way she was suddenly the one who didn't know where to look. "lace, too, huh? so predictable, princess. everything matches. your entire life is color-coordinated."
"that's not—" azzi started, then stopped, bit her lip. her hands had moved from paige's shoulders to her own thighs, fingers splayed wide like she was trying her best to hold herself together. "you're being annoying."
“i’m just someone who knows you," paige murmured, voice just shy of revealing, and she couldn't stop staring at where azzi's teeth sank into her bottom lip, at the way the tissue went bloodless under the pressure before flooding that warm, dark rose again. she wanted to reach up and tug it free the way she had in the water in sarasota, wanted to tell her to stop before she hurt herself, but she was afraid that if she moved her hands from azzi's hips, she'd do something stupid instead.
something devastatingly irreversible.
"come on, princess,” she egged, pupils almost fully blown. “just admit it. then i’ll let it go.”
"i am not telling you what color my underwear is, paige,” azzi said, but she was laughing too now, aerial and solar in power, and the sound of it made something shudder open in paige's chest, a pressure point that could send her catatonic if she didn’t ignore it as much as she worked to. "you're such a pervert. should be ashamed of yourself."
"mmm, i'm just observant." paige's fingers had found the hem of the tank top again, had begun playing with it absently, brushing against the skin dipping across azzi’s belly. she could feel the muscles jump underneath the touch, could feel the way her hands were forced up then down as azzi’s breathing went shallow and quick. "it's called paying attention. i notice things about you. it’s what all good best friends do."
"yeah?" azzi's voice had gone low, velveteen and uncertain, and when paige peered up at her face, she found her already looking back at her with an expression that made paige's throat seal shut. "what else do you notice about me, p?"
everything, paige wanted to say. i notice everything about you. you make me notice more about myself. you’re like a tattoo, an eternal mark. i notice it all, i keep staring at it, tracing where you sit inside of me, pretty in script along the soft inner seam of my hip. you are the moment the artist goes over the bone, and i feel every vibration, like a car speeding down the vast highway. i like it, no matter how odd. i try to keep every part of you, because you remind me how much i enjoy being alive.you call me back to myself. with you, even just the thought of you, my veins spark, my blood pumps, my bones buzz and buzz and buzz.
there is a name for this feeling, but it escapes me. you cannot escape me. i dream about you, i let you settle into me like an occupier. i take what i can get.
but she couldn't say any of that. couldn't say anything that indecipherable with its honest desire, that throb for further allowance; adoration in nudity. so instead she shrugged, forced her face into something casual, something safe.
"i dunno. just stuff."
azzi's expression gathered itself, underwent a million transformations in only a minute, before falling into something like disappointment. it flickered across her features before she schooled them back into a smile. paige wanted to scream, loud and unrelenting, at how badly they performed their pretending. but she tucked the sound behind her teeth.
"just stuff. wow. so specific."
paige scrambled, anxious to rescue the moment.
“if you wear studs instead of hoops, you’ll forget to take them off before bed," paige said, reaching up to adjust the small gold chain around azzi's neck, settling the clasp at the proper spot behind the neck. "i know that if you love a book enough, you’ll buy multiple copies so you can have different covers. and i know that you're gonna sleep in my bed tonight because you always do when you're here, even though the guest room’s made up. and that tomorrow morning you're gonna steal my clothes and act like you didn't."
"i do not steal them," azzi protested. "i borrow them."
"you never give them back."
"that's still borrowing just...with an extended return policy."
paige giggled despite herself, and azzi smiled down at her, and for a moment, it was like looking into the heart of the sun. everything felt normal again, felt like it always had: the two of them existing in their own private world, speaking their own private language, burrowing in a space equivalent to the blank territory behind the glass frame held fragile inside a heart-shaped locket.
but then azzi shifted again, altering her weight, and paige's hands tightened on back on her hips reflexively. the air between them went thick and strange. azzi's eyes dropped to paige's mouth, then back up, and paige felt her heart kick up in her throat, felt her whole body burst into flame as her pulse thrummed.
"paige," azzi said quietly, and the way she said it made it sound more like a question than a name belonging to this body begging for more like a prayer.
paige didn't know how to answer.
"hm?"
"are you—" azzi stopped, shook her head slightly, began to power down. "never mind."
"hey, no, what?" paige's thumbs circled again, now drawing those same small shapes along the base of azzi's spine, and she watched the way azzi's breath left her, the way her pupils dilated. "what were you gonna say?"
"nothing. it's stupid."
"you’re never stupid, az. tell me anyway?”
azzi was quiet for a long moment, and paige could see her working through something, weighing options, making calculations. finally, she said, so tentatively that paige almost didn't hear it:
"are you happy? that i'm coming?"
"am i—" paige sat up straighter, bringing them even closer, until there was barely any space between them at all. "azzi, are you serious right now? i'm fucking ecstatic. this is—you have no idea what this means to me. getting to play with you. getting to—" she stopped, swallowed hard. "yeah. fuck, yeah, princess. ‘m happy."
azzi's answering smile was blazing, luminous enough to hint at harm, and she threw her arms around paige's neck and hugged her fiercely, face buried in the curve where paige's shoulder smoothed into her neck. paige wrapped her arms around azzi's waist and held on and on, as if she was trying to memorize the feeling, the pressure, and warmth of her, the way her curls kissed at the skin of paige’s chest.
the way her lips brushed there, too.
they stayed like that for an indeterminate amount of time, tangled together until they felt like an undiscovered country, and paige thought about how this was enough. how it had to be enough. how she would make it enough.
but even as thought drifted through her mind, she couldn’t find the strength to pledge allegiance to it. instead, her hands slid further up azzi's back, fingers splaying wide, and azzi made a sound so small and wet against her neck that masqueraded as contentment but most likely was something more, and paige—
paige knew—knew with the same certainty she knew her own name—that it would never be enough. that she would always want more. that wanting azzi was like dragging the tongue along the bladed edge of a slab of ice because you could remember so clearly what the goodness of water tasted like, how it once was that, too.
when azzi finally pulled back, her eyes were shining, two large wet stars.
"we're gonna be so good together," she said, and paige nodded, even though she wasn't sure anymore which game they were talking about.
and paige believed her, because azzi would always be true. she could see it now, without being there. the two of them, a duet of bright young women, at home on a shared court, paige could see it, how she would turn to accept the pass from azzi, would see the sweat beaded on her best friend’s skin, its catch in the wetness of her mouth.
everything azzi gave her, paige let rule over her.
we’re gonna live forever, paige wanted to promise.
paige could feel that nameless emotion rising, the rush dawning like the sky opening in apocalypse, a sun coming out like blood at the tip of the tongue. she could feel it slicing at her mouth, the parts of it, enraged at being repressed.
she could hear it begging for reprieve, for the solace of azzi’s lips crushed against it.
azzi usually steered clear of thick florals, especially roses. but in the fall, she forgave herself for her fallacies, including indulging in the smell of it. she only liked it in the end months of the year, and specifically as it came across when dusted over paige. her best friend often leaned vanilla in cologne, but sometimes she’d spritz a bit of a fragrance so old that the label had been worn off the bottle by the repeated love of her fingers against it.
it was so rarely used, and so it aged and aged until it bled out a blend of oud and deep rose—damask, if azzi recalled correctly. it never smelled as good as her memory had saved it, but she loved falling asleep with her nose pressed to paige’s neck, the flower softening nearly to rot but still beautiful. she’d drift, then, mind slurring into a peace she associated with autumnal woods with a path nearly gone, hidden inside, trodden hand-in-hand when paige came to see her in virginia four years ago.
now she could smell it again as she sat on the quad, eyes flickering over the kaleidoscope of the season’s leaves and the dark, brittle skin of the trees in the last throes of life. despite the annual decay, the campus was alive in the way only october at uconn could make it. students were undeterred by the wet earth—a souvenir from a flash pour that occurred just before azzi’s contemporary media activism lecture—and sprawled across both the grass and one another, offerings to the expiring warmth.
the air was sharp with the smell of coffee orders, either overly elaborate or ridiculously minimal, and someone's cigarette smoke drifting from the direction of the library. that had to be a fire hazard in some way. azzi sat, cross-legged on the stone wall near the student center, her body angled toward the watery kiss of the last-minute sun so that her back was settled snugly against the strong line of paige’s shoulder.
she’d chosen comfort today: flared yoga pants in deep grey that hugged her hips, paired with a color-matched ribbed tank top that grew thin at the straps. it was all grounded by an open cardigan in the deepest black that kept slipping off one shoulder, revealing the smooth brown skin there, the ridge of her collarbone. her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, curls cascading to the middle of her back, and she had her phone balanced on her knee as she tuned back in just in time to laugh at something kk was saying, her whole face transforming with it, luminous and unguarded.
paige couldn't stop looking at her. she could feel it, like god’s eyes. she’d been looking at her all morning—all week, all month, really—to the point where she’d asked if she looked bad. paige had stammered out a negative, flustered, and azzi had squeezed her hand before walking off to her lecture hall.
ever since azzi had arrived on campus, it had been different. she was almost always in paige's dorm room, determined to make it feel less like the cell it appeared to be and more like a home. here, their habits continued, azzi falling asleep in paige's bed more nights than not, her body curved into paige's like they were two parts of the same equation.
it was making paige insane. the proximity of it all. the way azzi touched her so casually—fingers at her wrist, hand at the small of her back, head on her shoulder—like it meant nothing, like it didn't make paige's blood sing and her hands shake and her mouth press together so hard that she could feel every bit like a death pact come collect.
"yo, p, you listening?" kk was waving a hand in front of her face, dark brows raised in amusement.
"what? yeah. sorry." paige dragged her attention away from where azzi was now scrolling through her ipad with its matching white stylus, her onenote open to painstakingly precise notes, that small line appearing just above the ridge of her nose—that fixed symbol that meant she was concentrating so hard on the task at hand that she’d get a headache later.
paige made a note to give her ibuprofen before they hit the court later.
"we were saying that apparently you've been busy." this time it was ice speaking, grin wicked and knowing. paige felt dread begin to build, latent and hot in her throat. "heard you had alyssa from the soccer team in your room last week. and before that, that girl from your bio class. what's her name—"
"bro, can we not?" paige interrupted, but she could feel her face heating, could feel the way azzi had gone very still beside her, eyes trained militantly on the screen in front of her, laughter gone dead in her throat upon arrival.
"i'm just saying," ice continued, oblivious or maybe just uncaring, "you're like a campus legend at this point. paige bueckers, heartbreaker extraordinaire. there's probably a running list somewhere."
someone—paige thought it might have been aubrey—pulled out her phone and started scrolling through instagram, tilting the screen toward the group. "oh shit, yeah. this other girl—kat, i think?—she posted about you like two days ago. i took a screenshot. 'best night everrrr.’”
aubrey’s voice sang high with the tease, and the table erupted in laughter and shrill catcalls. paige wanted to sink into the ground, wanted to disappear entirely, because she could feel azzi looking at the phone now, could feel the way her body had gone rigid, immovable. could practically hear the gears turning in her head as she blankly studied the girl in the photo.
brunette, hair thick and glossy, and spilling into a question mark of a ponytail. tall and toned in a way that spoke to running, pretty in an effortless way that was perfect under the influence of mango-infused tequila, but currently made paige's stomach hurt.
paige turned fully to look at her best friend, trying and failing to catch her eye, trying and failing to communicate an understanding, but azzi wouldn't look at her. azzi always looked at her, was always ready. but she wasn’t ready anymore.
instead, her jaw was set, teeth gripped as tightly as her fingers were around the sides of her phone. the knuckles had gone pale, and paige could see her doing it—that thing she did where she catalogued all the ways she didn't measure up, where she made an inventory of her own inadequacies and displayed them like evidence of some crime she'd committed just by existing. she watched as azzi subconsciously reached toward the dark ends of her own pulled-back curls, and the action was so small but carried enough pain to fell paige like a demolition site.
"az," paige said quietly, reaching out to touch azzi's knee, but azzi flinched away. paige felt as though she was burning down, bones gone to ash and blood all in her mouth.
azzi blinked at her, face unreadable, and then stretched a smile from ear to ear. it was so unnatural that it nearly appeared to hurt, and paige scrambled inside.
"hey, so i forgot that i have a study session for a group project for my mass communications class," azzi said, standing up so abruptly that she nearly knocked ice’s water bottle from its spot on the wall. her voice was bright, fragile, wrong, the words all stilted. "i gotta go, but i’ll catch you later, okay?"
and then she turned, already walking away before paige could begin to respond, cardigan fluttering around her like a bird’s frantic flapping when pushed from the nest. paige sat there, frozen, watching the shape of her disappear into the sudden surge of students crossing the quad, feeling like she'd just failed some test she hadn't known she was taking.
"is she good?" kk asked.
paige didn't answer. she was already pulling out her phone, dragging open the google calendar they shared, the one they'd set up freshman year of high school, color-coded in pink and purple, every game and study session and family holiday and doctor's appointment meticulously logged because they liked knowing where the other one was, liked being able to look at their phone and see proof that their existence within each other's lives.
she scrolled through azzi's schedule for today until she was dizzy and the white space blurred. nothing. no study session, no group project, nothing except practice later that afternoon.
she took a screenshot, fingers slipping on the first attempt, and sent it to azzi.
me: ????????? i know im not tripping
the three dots appeared immediately, then disappeared, then appeared again.
a 💗💗: forgot to add it in
me: yeah bc it’s a lie
me: bro nika is in ur class, she said there’s no group project
me: azzi what the fuck
me: talk to me
but azzi had stopped responding, had probably turned her phone face-down on whatever surface she was near, and paige felt something crack open in her chest, something that had been building pressure for months, maybe years.
she felt like the emoji she’d chosen for azzi’s contact name, pulsing and pulsing, radiating as it searched for signs of life. only to come up short, revealed to be all alone.
she didn't see azzi for the rest of the day. she wasn't at practice, which paige only found out through an irritated geno, who told her azzi claimed she was sick, which paige knew to be another lie but backed up anyway.
it was another fracture in the foundation of everything they were. paige went through the motions, ran the drills, took the shots, but her mind was elsewhere, caught on the image of azzi's face when she'd seen that instagram story, the way her whole body had contracted like she'd taken a hit.
by the time practice ended, paige was vibrating with anxiety, with the need to see azzi and fix whatever she'd transgressed without intention. she showered so quickly that she was teased about it on the way out of the locker room, and headed straight for azzi's dorm, letting herself in with the key azzi had given her during move-in week.
the room was dark and quiet, and for a moment paige thought maybe azzi wasn't there. but then she heard it. a small sound from the bathroom, something between a gasp and a whimper.
"azzi?"
paige crossed the room and pushed open the door. she found her there, standing in front of the mirror, tank top pushed up to just below her breasts, and there was blood—not a lot, but enough—trickling down from her navel where a silver barbell now gleamed, the skin around it flushed and angry.
"jesus, az," paige said, and her voice came out strangled. "what did you do?"
azzi's eyes met hers in the mirror, and they were wet, defiant. "what does it look like, bueckers? let’s use our brains."
paige closed her eyes and prayed momentarily for patience before returning her gaze to the golden plane of azzi’s belly.
"i mean, obviously, it’s a fucking piercing. but i guess ‘m confused because we were supposed to go to your appointment together." paige could hear how childish it sounded even as she said it, but she couldn't help it. they'd talked about this, had planned it as a special moment for just the two of them, had researched shops and argued about gold over silver and silver over gold; paige had promised to hold hands with azzi all the way through it. "we had a plan."
"yeah, well." azzi turned to face her properly, and the movement made her wince, one hand coming up to hover over the metal without quite touching it. "things change. you of all people should know that."
the words landed like a slap, and it felt so unfair that paige took a step back, feeling all air abandon her.
"what's that supposed to mean?"
"you know exactly what it means." azzi's voice was trembling now, anger and hurt tangled together until they were indistinguishable. "apparently, you've been having all sorts of adventures that you haven't told me about. so i figured, why not have my own?"
"azzi—"
"were you ever going to tell me?" azzi's eyes were nearly on fire with her pain, tears spilling over, tracking down her cheeks, and breaking off at her chin. "or was i just supposed to find out from our fucking teammates that my best friend—" she stopped, bit her lip so hard paige was afraid she'd draw blood. "that you've been sleeping with half the campus?"
"first off, it’s not—it wasn't like that." paige felt helpless, like she was drowning despite being in shallow waters. "it didn't mean anything. none of them meant anything."
"then why keep it from me?" azzi's voice stuttered halfway through the question, cleaving in two.
because you’d look down on me just like right now, paige wanted to say. because i feel you like a hole in my head, and i needed to staunch the bleed. because i want to be loved and touched and needed without making you suffer me. because i thought maybe if i fucked enough other people, i'd stop thinking about what it would be like to fuck you.
but she couldn't say any of that. couldn't confess to any of it.
"i don't know," she said instead, and because she never knew when to leave well enough alone, she continued. “why do you even care?”
azzi jerked backward, face crumpling like sand under the weight of water. “my whole life is about caring about you. you’ve never kept something from me before. we tell each other everything.”
the truth of it left paige defenseless and therefore silent, so they stood there in the fluorescent bathroom light, the space between them feeling more like a chasm than something simple to close. paige thought about how easy it would be to just reach across it, to pull azzi into her arms and apologize until her voice gave out. but the rigor in azzi's posture, the relentless stand of her spine, told her that the touch wouldn't be welcome right now, that azzi needed distance the way paige needed her, and the asymmetry of it made her want to cup her throat and squeeze until she conquered the scream.
"it's getting infected," paige said finally, gesturing to azzi’s stomach with its little red beads of blood. her voice came out flat, clinical. "you need to clean it."
"i know how to clean it," azzi said, but she made no effort to move. only stood there with her arms wrapped around herself like she was desperately trying to hold her body together.
paige wondered what would fall out if she let go.
"c’mon. let me help you." paige was already walking to the sink, wetting a clean washcloth with warm water. "please. az. just let me help."
let me fix it. fix it. please. please, god, please. i can fix it.
azzi was quiet for a long moment, and then she nodded, just barely, and lowered her arms to her sides. the tank top was still pushed up, exposing the soft give of her stomach and the gentle beginning curve of her hips, and paige tried not to look as she came to her, tried to focus on the task at hand—but it was impossible.
her best friend’s skin was warm beneath her fingers as paige steadied her with one hand on her hip, using the other to gently dab at the blood and clear fluid leaking from around the piercing. azzi hissed at the contact, muscles jumping with the sensitivity, and paige murmured an apology, blowing cool air across the inflamed skin.
"you have to be more careful," she said quietly, blue eyes latched steadfastly on the inner pucker of azzi’s belly button. "you can't just—you can't do something like this and not take care of it properly."
"i didn't think it would hurt this much," azzi admitted, and her voice was small, younger than paige had heard it in years. “everyone said it wouldn’t.”
"everything hurts more than you think it will." paige squeezed antibacterial solution onto a cotton swab and pressed it gently around the piercing site. "but that's kind of the point, right? of getting one?"
azzi didn't answer, but the way she watched paige work with those dark eyes spoke to what she was thinking. she had always had such a heavy gaze, those wide cervine eyes that had always seen too much, that had always been the one to know how to handle it if they were both looking. paige could feel the weight of them like a physical thing, could feel azzi reading her the way she read defenses, finding all the weak spots and cataloguing them for later use.
she would know them in sleep, her dreams colored after them, her every action validated by the presence.
when the piercing was clean and paige had applied a thin layer of healing ointment, she should have stepped back. should have put space between them again and let the moment end. but she didn’t, couldn’t. she needed azzi to know she was sorry, needed permission to call her her princess again.
her hand stayed in place, still on azzi's hip, thumb stroking in absent sweeps, and before she could think better of it, she was slipping to her knees. she leaned in, pressing her lips to the unblemished skin just to the left of the wound.
she had never felt azzi’s body be this halcyon. for a moment, there was nothing, but then her hand came up to tangle in paige's hair as if receiving sacrament, fingers tightening almost painfully at the roots.
paige kissed her again, just below the navel this time, feeling the way the muscles contracted under the pressure of her mouth. and again, to the right, and again, mapping the territory around the metal with her lips, taking liberties to kiss away the pain she'd caused, lips falling open and more open again.
"paige," azzi breathed, and the way she said it made paige's whole body go liquid.
paige looked up at her from where she kneeled, blood stellate, eyes endless from this angle, and found azzi gazing down at her with an expression that made paige's heart practically stop.
there was so much she was swollen with.
wanting.
confusion.
terror, which always arose in the face of something beautiful.
for a moment, they just stayed like that—paige on her knees like a supplicant, azzi trembling above her—and paige thought this is it, this is when everything changes, this is when i finally tell her and she will finally understand.
but then paige messed it up because she looked away, back in front of her, and pressed a kiss to the slip of azzi’s hipbone, her tongue tracing the bone—hot and slick and soft. and it was this that sent azzi stepping back, pulling her tank top down, the wall going up behind her eyes so fast paige could practically hear it slam into place.
"yeah," paige said, pushing herself up on legs that felt unsteady. "course."
she knew they wouldn’t talk about it, that she wouldn’t be able to without bursting into tears. she wanted to burst into tears now, bawl like the child she would always feel inside of her. the same one that had watched her parents split.
and maybe azzi could tell—paige knew she could—because she reached out and cupped paige’s cheek, eyes softening until they were as tender as meat. they stood there, face to palm in a bathroom not worth the tuition, overhead light flickering and turning paige’s hair further blonde with every other shine.
they stood there, looking at each other across a distance that felt insurmountable, and pretended that everything was fine. that everything was still the same as it had always been.
that paige’s hands weren’t trembling by her sides, that azzi’s thumb wasn’t near paige’s bottom lip.
this was mutualism.
III. VIRGINIA / SMOTHER / DAUGHTER.
virginia in december burned with a special nature of winter, and in the mountains, it only felt further alien.
in the peaks, the cold felt personal, always on the verge of acting as a threat, an endless searching for the warmest parts of you just to press its thumb there until something gave way. the cabin geno had rented for them sat perched on the side of a hill just moments from erosion, comprised of exposed beams of light wood and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto nothing but white, the snow so thick it erased the distinction between earth and sky. it was a task to tell what was solid and what was simply the absence of something else.
while their coaches had helped arrange the holiday, they had begged off on joining, something every girl able to attend was grateful for. the intended bonding would’ve fallen short, flickering threads of connection failing to touch and strengthen the weave of their relationship.
azzi had been in the hot tub for the better part of an hour, body submerged up to the collarbone in water that scalded and soothed in turns; it made her skin feel like it was moments from slipping off and belonging to someone else.
she wore a black bikini, simple and minimal, that made her hyperaware of the suggestion of her own silhouette. it gave the feeling of wearing almost nothing—but in a welcome way—with its triangles of fabric barely containing the swell of her breasts, and ties at her hips that pledged a loose vow of security. a shell necklace sat against her throat, the white and cream ovals slick with steam, and she kept touching it absently, a nervous habit she'd developed somewhere between childhood and now.
the air bit mercilessly at her face and shoulders, creating a strange dichotomy of being both sweltering and freezing all at once. her body always so unable to decide what it wanted, what it could tolerate. she'd slipped further into the water to escape the contradiction, letting the heat work at the knots in her shoulders that had been building since they'd arrived two days ago.
since paige had receded, a radio tower gone silent, too devastated to properly pretend she was fine.
azzi looked away from where caroline drifted before her to where paige sat in one of the lounge chairs just outside the hot tub's perimeter, hunched forward with her elbows on her knees, swimming in an oversized grey hoodie that made her look smaller than she was, frailer than she’d ever let on. basketball shorts despite the cold, because she was stubborn like that, always had been, her body a testament to refusal.
her knee was wrapped, the black brace visible beneath the hem of her shorts like cain’s mark. she'd been sitting there for what must’ve been forty minutes now, phone in hand, scrolling through nothing, contributing nothing to the conversation happening around her. azzi’s chest squeezed tightly, and she clenched her fingers around her thigh beneath the bubbling water.
she kept glancing over at her. couldn't help it. kept waiting for her best friend to meet her eyes, to give her something—that smile like heaven, that smirk, the lifting of the veil—but paige's gaze stayed fixed on the middle distance, jaw tight, mouth pressed into a line that meant she was barely holding something back, that the dam was one more word away from breaking.
azzi wanted to go to her, to crawl to her, to place her hands along her spine and beg her to spell it out.
"earth to azzi," caroline called, pulling azzi's attention back to the group with the violence of interruption, at odds with the kindness of her tone. "you ready for the bahamas? three weeks, right? i’m so excited. jesus, to play in actual heat for once instead of this frozen hell."
“yeah,” azzi said, smiling half-heartedly.
the conversation around the hot tub shifted like the weather, everyone eager to talk about the tournament: the hotels they'd be staying in, the restaurants they wanted to try, the practices on the beach that would feel more like vacation than work.
“we’ll fucking kill it,” morgan chimed in, face bright with the hope. “we’re gonna bring it home.”
azzi felt her stomach drop, felt the way the air suddenly went thin, identical to the onset of altitude sickness. she had the sudden, horrible feeling that she was watching something tragic happen in slow motion and couldn't move fast enough to stop the loss.
morgan's face changed as soon as she realized what she'd said, crumpling sweetly, eyes going wide with the particular horror of accidental cruelty. "oh my god. paige, i didn't—"
"it's fine," paige said, voice empty and mechanical, the possession of someone who was trying to will a lie into the quality of truth. she didn't look up once from her phone. "y'all have fun. bring me back a seashell or whatever."
"p—" ice started, but paige was already standing, moving with a careful deliberation that communicated that her knee was aching worse than she'd admit. azzi hated this, this voyuerism of a girl carrying pain like a teenage secret, hoodie pulled up over her head as she limped toward the sliding glass door that led back into the cabin's throat.
azzi watched her go, watched the way paige's shoulders were drawn up to her ears like she was trying to shrink in real time, watched the way she was trying so hard to appear as though she didn't care, like this wasn't killing her slowly, and felt something crack open in her chest in a jagged line.
"fuck," morgan said quietly. "i'm such an idiot."
"she knows you didn't mean it," azzi said, but she was already halfway out of the hot tub, water streaming off her body, steam rising from her skin as the winter chill crawled eagerly over her exposed limbs.
she nearly slipped as she grabbed her towel and wrapped it around herself, didn't bother with anything else. not her clothes or her shoes or her usual performance of normalcy. azzi stumbled with a lack of humiliation, anxious to get to paige, dripping water across the deck and then through the cabin, leaving wet footprints on the hardwood like evidence of passage. she took the stairs two at a time, her body still burning with phantom warmth from the hot tub, her skin slightly prickled with glaciation.
the bedroom paige had claimed was at the end of the hall, door closed, no light visible beneath it, a darkness so complete that azzi knew it to be intentional.
her room was next door.
she didn't knock, only turned the handle and slipped inside, closing the door behind her with the soft click of the latch.
the room was devoid of all light, curtains drawn tightly against the world, forcing it back with a hard hand. the only light came from the digital clock on the nightstand that read 9:47 pm in numbers that glowed an accusatory red. paige was in bed already, or at least in the bed, no longer wearing her hoodie and shorts, curled on her side facing away from the door like she was trying to disappear into the wall, trying to merge with something more solid than herself.
"i need a minute, az," paige said, voice muffled by the pillow, by the refusal to be seen.
azzi was unable to help the small smile that brushed across her face, pleasure rising at being known so thoroughly.
"no." azzi dropped her towel, toeing it open before undoing the delicate ties of her bikini, the fabric hitting the wood with a muffled slap—gravity enforced by the water content. she crossed to the bed, droplets still lingering along her skin, and climbed onto the mattress without asking permission.
she knew if she waited, the invitation might never come, and so she pressed herself against paige's back with abandon. one arm slid around paige’s waist, the other tucking beneath the pillow they'd been sharing since arrival, her body an answer to the question paige never had to ask.
paige went rigid, every muscle locking. "bro, you’re getting the bed wet."
"don't care. i’ll just change the sheets when you shower.”
"azzi."
"i'm not leaving." azzi pressed her face against the back of paige's neck, right where her hair was pulled into a messy bun, loose strands escaping to brush against azzi's mouth, and breathed in the familiar scent of her. vanilla lightened with a lavender touch, spiced with vetiver and something that was just paige. something azzi would recognize blindfolded, in a crowd, in another life. "so you can stop trying to get rid of me."
paige was silent for a long moment, and then azzi felt it: the tentative shake of her body that gained quickly in intensity, slight tremors that traveled through her like fault lines and then burst into their full earthquake, the uneven, ragged pull of her breath.
"it's just a little over a month," paige said, the words small and wet enough to clog azzi's own throat. she wanted nothing more than to gather paige up, hide her somewhere safe until it was all over. "six fucking weeks. it's nothing. i don't know why i'm being such a fucking baby about it."
"because it's not nothing, p," azzi corrected quietly, lips shifting tenderly against paige's neck, the words transferring directly into skin. "because basketball is—it's everything to us. to you. it's how you know yourself. it's the language you speak. and someone took it away, changed the build. you can’t even translate.”
"okay, miss communications major,” paige puffed out, and azzi squeezed her stomach softly. then,
“but i took it away, az,” and there was something juvenile in her voice, something savagely self-lacerating. "it was my fault. i went for a steal i shouldn't have, and i landed wrong, and now i'm—" paige stopped, swallowed hard enough that azzi could feel it. "now i'm fucking useless."
"don't." azzi's arm tightened around paige's waist, hand tucking under the hem of her shirt to splay wide across her stomach, feeling the rise and fall, the proof of life. "don't you ever say that."
"it's true, though. who am i when i’m not on court? what am i if i'm not—" paige's voice cracked like ice, and the lake rose. "i don't know how to be anything else. i feel buried alive."
azzi's heart was hammering so viciously she was sure paige could feel the vibrations against each ridge of her spine, a frenetic drumming that was trying to say something her mouth couldn't. she closed her eyes, pressed her lips to the nape of paige's neck over and over, arranging and then re-arranging in the shape something that wasn't quite a kiss but felt like one anyway, and felt the words rising in her throat.
words she'd been holding back for months, maybe years. sentences that felt too big and terrifying for the hold of a diary, too exposing to reveal in daylight, but somehow felt more possible here, in this black, dead air, where neither of them could see each other's faces.
in the dark, it was always easier to be brave. it was never confession, only relief.
"you're more than that," azzi said, and her voice came out rougher than she intended, scraped raw. "you're so much more than this sport. then any team contract or brand deal, or highlight reel. you're—"
she faltered, tried to gather these thoughts that came too quickly, tumbling over one another and onto her feet like water over rock. and she let them, abandoning pretense.
then, almost casually, she said,
“you know, when we were younger, the thing i used to look forward to most was the away games. because of the bus ride after. you always came to the back with me, where no light reached. and we’d end up—god, i don’t even know—half-asleep on each other, limbs everywhere. you and me in that dark corner on one side, sinking into each other like it was the most natural thing. it was, i think. it felt like we were the same person for a while, feeling all the same things without thinking twice.”
paige had gone very still beneath her touch, so still azzi might have thought she'd stopped breathing if not for the steady rise and fall of her back against azzi’s chest.
“sometimes you’d fall asleep on top of me, and i’d stay wide awake, and i wouldn’t move. i couldn’t risk waking you, and i—i liked the weight. your warmth solidified me, especially after a loss. i’d get home smelling like you more than anything else. like i’d been dipped right inside of you. i’d lie on my floor in the dark, curled up like a kid, trying to hold onto it; the sense of you still on my skin. letting it pool around me for as long as i could before i had to wash it off and return to being my own separate body.”
azzi’s voice broke, splintered. she pushed through.
"you make me feel seen. you make me feel safe. like i matter in ways that have nothing to do with what i can do, what i can produce, what i'm worth. and i don't—i don't know how to separate loving you from needing you, and that scares me, because what if something happens and you're not there anymore? what if i lose you? what if this—"
she curled in closer, crushing what little space had been between them, holding on to the memory of their bodies pressed together in the dark.
"what if this ruins everything and i lose the only person who's ever made me feel like i could just be?"
"azzi. baby," paige had rolled over while she was talking, was now facing her in the dark, close enough that azzi could see the tears tracking down her cheeks even in the minimal light, silver trails catching what little illumination bled stubbornly through the curtains. "what are you saying?"
"i'm saying that you're everything," azzi said, and she was crying now too, couldn't help it, the tears coming hot and fast and unstoppable. "i'm saying that watching you hurt—physically, emotionally, any of it—it destroys me, paige. it unmakes me. i'm saying that i don't care if you never touch a basketball again, you'd still be the most important person in my life. you'd still be the person i think about first thing in the morning and last thing at night. you'd still be the person i—"
she stopped, screwed her eyes shut tightly because she couldn't bear to look at paige when she said it, couldn't bear to see whatever expression would cross her face.
"i'm saying that i love you. best friends, yes, but more, too. i love you so deeply, in a way that keeps me awake at night, half-insane and staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out when it happened, trying to remember a time when i didn't feel this way, and coming up empty. you’ve been the constant weather of my life. so when you say you’re just a player, just someone for people to watch—no. you’ve been the person i revolved around since we were little kids, paige. i’ve been in love with you so long it feels like part of my body. i don’t know how to separate it from anything else.
“i want to crawl inside your body and live there, be responsible for your skin and bones and blood. i want to know what it feels like to be you, to see the world the way you see it, to always know what you’re thinking. i love you in a way that probably isn't healthy and definitely isn't normal, and i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, but i can't—i don’t know what to do with it. i just—i just want to give it to you. and then some.”
and then some.
the silence that followed felt eternal, stretched lean as a vein waiting for the needle. azzi kept her eyes pressed closed, the pressure so great that bursts of color were flickering in the dark. she couldn't handle whatever horror was surely paige's face, couldn't stand to watch her pull away or shut down or worse—look at her with pity, with the particular cruelty of kindness offered to the pathetic.
but then she felt it. paige's hand came up to cup her cheek, warm and careful, thumb brushing away her tears with a level of affection that nearly wrenched another sob from beneath azzi’s ribs.
“princess, hey. look at me," paige whispered. “baby, can you please look at me?”
azzi forced her eyes open because she’d do anything paige asked, and blinked through the blur of tears. found paige staring at her with an expression so intense it stole her breath, something callow and unguarded that paige would never let just anyone see.
but for the entirety of their lives, one of them had always been something to the other. someone.
"do you know how long i’ve been waiting to hear you say that?" paige said, and her voice was wrecked, destroyed. "or at least some version of it? i—azzi, i don’t know why you didn’t tell me earlier. we tell each other everything.”
azzi thought of that bathroom, the cleaning of her piercing.
“because i didn’t want you to send me away.”
paige scoffed, a brief laugh loosed out, high with disbelief. “there isn’t any version of the world where i don’t want you with me. azzi—i've been losing my fucking mind, dying time and time again, wanting you so fucking badly i could barely breathe around you. i felt like a fucking asthmatic. i used to lie awake at night thinking about what it would feel like to kiss you, to touch you, to have you be mine in all the ways that mattered. i do everything to show you that i’ll cater to you. and you thought, you actually thought, that i wouldn’t feel the same way?"
"you—" azzi couldn't find the strength to finish the sentence. she couldn’t process what paige was saying, couldn't make it fit into the reality she'd been living in.
"i sleep with other people because i can't have you," paige said, and her voice was raw, scraped clean of any pretense, any performance. "i’d go out and find girls who looked nothing like you, and i’d pretend it helped. i’d pretend if i just fucked enough of them, i'd stop wanting you, but it didn’t work. nothing works. nothing makes me stop needing you. nothing makes me stop dreaming about having you. you're in my head all the time, you're my first in every instance, and it's killing me, azzi. it was killing me to love you this much and not be able to—"
"roll over," paige said suddenly, cutting herself off.
"what?"
"roll onto your back, baby. please."
azzi obeyed, bewildered, her body moving on instinct, powered by trust, and then paige was moving too, was shifting her weight carefully. she sat up first, tugging her shirt up and over by the neck and then shimmying off her boxers, mindful of her knee. then she shifted until she was on top of azzi, settling her body against the naked line of the other girl’s with a low groan that sounded like coming home, like respite, like the end of something long and painful.
her head came to rest on azzi's chest, right over her heart where it beat wildly, and her arms wrapped around azzi's waist, holding on as though she was the only thing keeping paige tethered to earth, like without this anchor she'd drift away into nothing.
azzi's hands came up automatically, one tangling in paige's hair, the other tracing patterns on her back—circles and figure eights and shapes that had no name. she dipped lower, to the small of her back where the fullness of her hips began to flow. she could feel paige's breath evening out, could feel the way her body was finally, finally relaxing, the tension bleeding out of her shoulders, her spine, her jaw.
"is this okay?" paige mumbled against her chest, lips moving against the line of azzi’s collarbones.
azzi wanted to laugh. wanted to cry. wanted to scream at how much time they'd wasted, how many nights they could have had this.
"yeah," she managed, her voice thick. "this is okay."
it’s so much better now, she wanted to tell her.
they lay there in the dark, breathing together, heartbeats finding their shared rhythm; two organs bestowed by god, meant to synchronize all along. azzi kept running her fingers through paige's hair, kept tracing those idle patterns on her back, and thought about how many times they'd been in this position before: holding each other, seeking comfort, pretending it was just what friends did, just what teammates did, just what people who loved each other platonically did.
but it had never been just that. it had just felt less dangerous to ignore it.
"we should probably talk about this more when we get back," paige said eventually, her voice thick with exhaustion.
"okay," azzi said, "but later. right now, just rest, p. let me hold you."
"yeah," paige whispered against her chest, the vibration pushing through azzi's chestplate like a drill looking for oil. "okay."
and so, that was what azzi did. she held paige through the night, mapping every point of touch like a star chart. hip to thigh to breast to leg. paige shifted to the right slightly, and it made her leg fall between azzi’s, the length of her thigh firm against the heat of azzi’s cunt. it felt good there, felt grounding. it was less about the placement and more about the act of it.
her best friend was past the line, venturing into this private space, and unfraid to stay there.
azzi held paige the way she'd wanted to for years, and paige held her back.
she looked to the floor, where a small bit of moonlight had crept to the edge, and thought of the brightness of morning. how the sunlight would fracture against the snow and blind them, everything so white, everything so blank.
cold and bright and beautiful and blinding. like an afterlife.
this always, she thought. our bodies, bridged together like a banister.
IV. FLORIDA KEYS / SUNSET ( SLOWED ) / LUCKI.
the keys were the best in the shoulder season. from late april to early june, the islands had a distinct quality compared to the rest of the state. they seemed to shudder with a different kind of life, as if they’d decided to let their guard down for a brief, private interval. the light carried a submerged quality, as though it had traveled a great distance underwater before reaching them, arriving pale and shimmering, a little distorted.
this return to florida was different. they kept touching one another in these small, accidental ways, as if to confirm that they were really here, really doing this. not just two girls pretending that every duet of friends needs to sleep with each other to make it through at least half a night.
they had driven in—again, a rover; always a symbol to them—and the water along the road was a flat blue-green, too still, as if watching. birds wheeled overhead in loose, indifferent arcs. and beneath it all, there was an inescapable electric thrum. the land seemed to receive them almost reverently, as if recognizing a returning species.
their rental sat at the end of a private road, where the asphalt gave way to crushed shell, rising like a sleeping creature. white walls glowed faintly in the heat, the stucco a little bleached. the shutters were soft blue, like the underside of a shell. through tall windows, the courtyard appeared like the heart of a drowned palace: palms arching protectively overhead, the pool lit from below with a strange, luminous blue. beyond it, a deck extended in a narrow path toward their private beach, the sand pale as bone as it bled out into nothing but the slow exhale of the gulf.
azzi liked that you had to park and then continue to walk to get to it. it made her feel that they were properly private, instead of barely secured. the ocean seemed to be reaching for her, needy for her, its pulse a magnet to the foundations every time she turned toward it.
she lay on her back on the living room floor, legs stretched long, bare feet flexed toward the ceiling fan that turned its lazy rotations overhead. she wore an old tee she’d stolen from paige: navy with yellow stripes bleeding down the sleeves, ‘montauk’ screaming in capitals across the middle, so oversized it grazed her mid-thigh.
it made her look smaller than she was, younger.
nothing underneath except white cotton panties that rose high in the front and fell entirely into lace at her hips and ass. her hair was still damp from her earlier shower, dark curls spreading easily across the pale pine hardwood like an oil spill. the only thing providing her comfort was the careful placement of a lilac and jejune persian rug, the print softened with age.
wired headphones—white, tangled at her collarbone—snaked from her ears to her phone resting on her stomach, and she had her eyes closed, lips parted silently to reveal the ridges of her two front teeth, mind swayed by a rhythm only she could hear. it was slow, instrumental, a melody that matched the afternoon light pouring through the windows in bars so thick they looked solid enough to hold.
one hand rested on her stomach, fingers drumming absently against her ribs in time with whatever she was listening to. the other lay palm-up beside her hip, open, receptive. she rolled her ankles clockwise, then anti. lifted her hips until only her shoulders pressed into the ground, then settled back down.
paige stood in the doorway, watching. couldn't help it. would never be able to help it, she was learning.
she'd been with the wings for nearly a year now, and the distance had been harder than either of them had anticipated. they'd known it would be difficult. paige in dallas, azzi still at uconn finishing her fifth year, one she'd chosen to buy more stocks of time before the inevitable separation of professional careers pulled them in different directions.
but knowing something would be hard and living through the reality of it were two different diseases entirely.
the bouts of distance had taught her this: to memorize azzi in every variation of light, to catalog every instance of her existence. but this version—peaceful, unguarded, the little line between her eyebrows finally smoothed—this one she wanted to keep.
two weeks until azzi graduated with her master’s. and then there would be the difficult geometry of trying to exist always within the same place, the same timezone, the same bed. but at least, for now, they had this.
five days with no outsiders, no schedules, no pretending they were anything other than what they'd always been and what they had evolved to. five days to exist as nothing but paige and azzi, girlfriend and girlfriend, two people who considered their highest obligation to be to one another.
paige crossed the room without another thought. lowered herself until she was on her knees, then forward onto her hands, then stretching out along the length of azzi's body, settling her weight the way you'd handle something sacred.
azzi's eyes slid open. she pulled one earbud out, let it dangle.
"hey, baby," paige said, the words coming around a bright smile.
“hey yourself, pretty girl,” azzi murmured, and her voice was warm, honeyed with contentment. she laughed lowly, sound lingering in her throat as paige flushed pink at the endearment.
she looked away and lowered her face to azzi's neck, pressing her mouth there just below her jaw where her pulse beat steady. azzi's breath stalled, then changed pattern completely. her hand came up to tangle in paige's hair, fingers finding blonde, then darker roots. they curled, holding her there.
"what are you doing?"
"kissing you," paige said against her skin, and she did it again, slower this time, with teeth. "that okay?"
"mmhm. yeah." azzi's voice had gone high and thin, breathless. "yeah, that's—that's good."
paige grinned against her neck, suddenly aching and restless, and felt the way azzi's pulse jumped under the glide of her tongue. she kissed her way along the middle of her throat, taking her time, tasting salt and sunscreen and something a little earthier—a touch sweet. her hands bracketed azzi's ribs, thumbs pressing into the spaces between bones.
this was the relief of it—being allowed. being able to want her without the practically biblical weight of repression, without having to build a wall and then a moat between touch and meaning. they had a name for it now.
several names.
best friend, girlfriend, soulmate. other half, wife—eventually.
the naming in itself was its own form of liberation. they could just call it what it was.
"paige," azzi said, and there was a hitch in her voice that made paige lift her head, look at her properly.
azzi was gazing up at her with an expression almost painful in its intensity, eyes dark and wet at the corners. her hand trembled slightly where it had latched onto paige's hair.
"i love you," azzi said, tone uncharacteristically fierce. "i love you so much.”
“i know, princess.” paige felt her throat close. "i know. i love you too."
"no, like—" azzi's free hand came up to cup paige's face, tilted it until her own throat was bared, pale and vulnerable. she idly dragged her thumb across paige’s cheekbone, felt the ridge. "i've loved you since we were kids, and i didn't know how to tell you, and now i get to, and it still doesn't feel real."
"it's real," paige said, turning her head to press a kiss to azzi's palm. she shifted and tumbled, curtaining them both in a slew of gold. "we’re here, mama. we're together, and that’s never gonna change."
"promise?"
"pinky swear."
azzi pulled her down into a kiss then, and it was different than any of the others before. less playful and more urgent. her mouth opened with a hungry request for tongue that made everything inside of paige go molten and liquid. her other earbud fell out, forgotten, the tinny sound of music still playing from where her phone had slipped off her stomach onto the tile.
paige kissed her back with everything she had, one hand sliding up under azzi’s shirt to find bare skin, ribs and the soft underside of her breast. she claimed it, groped at the fullness, and it made azzi send a sound through her mouth, something between a gasp and a moan, and her hips lifted, pressing up into paige's.
"deck," azzi breathed when they broke apart, a string of spit glistening from between their lips before delicately breaking. “let’s—deck.”
"yeah," paige agreed, already moving, already pulling azzi up with her. "yeah, okay."
the deck was empty and sun-drenched, wooden planks still warm from hours of exposure, the ocean stretching out before them, draining turquoise to teal to midnight blue at the far horizon.
light was fading but still present. the beach was private, theirs, no one around for miles, and the knowledge of that privacy made paige feel reckless, made her feel young and invincible in a way she hadn't since before basketball became a career instead of a game.
there was a lounge chair, positioned to face the water. wide enough for two. paige sat first, bringing azzi with her, guiding her to straddle her lap. azzi came willingly, eagerly, her thighs bracketing paige's hips, shirt riding up to reveal the thin white of her underwear, the smooth brown expanse of her legs.
"hi, baby," azzi said again, smiling down at her with eyes crinkled at the corner, and there was something so tender in it, so fond, that paige felt her chest crack right open.
"hey, princess," paige said back, hands settling on azzi's waist, squeezing the sides of her stomach.
she tugged her in by her belly piercing, the bar new and gold with a pink diamond dangling from the end, and they kissed again, slower this time, but no less intense. paige let her hands wander: up azzi's sides, along her spine, down to cup her ass through her panties. azzi whimpered against her mouth, bleating like a little lamb, lithe fingers working at the buttons of paige's cover-up, pushing it off her shoulders.
and then her hands were on paige's skin, warm and sure, mapping territories they'd explored before but never like this, never in daylight, never without the fear of fucking it up.
the sun beat down on them, the ocean providing its lull, and paige thought about that first morning in sarasota, how she'd watched azzi flex her shoulder blades on the paddleboard and felt that first dangerous pull of want, that recognition of falling.
she'd been right to be scared.
loving azzi was terrifying—the magnitude of it, the way it had rewritten every part of her life—but that just meant that it was what she truly wanted.
but she'd also been wrong. because this—azzi's mouth on hers, azzi's body against hers, azzi's hands in her hair—this wasn't falling. this was a landing instead. this was an arrival home.
"i want more," azzi whispered against her lips, and her hips rolled forward, pressing down, and paige felt the heat of her even through the bottom of her own bikini.
"you can have it, mama," paige said, and she meant it in every possible way. "just take it. you can have whatever you want, always.”
azzi pulled back just far enough to look at her, eyes searching. whatever she found there must have satisfied her, because she smiled—bright and unguarded and so beautiful it made paige's teeth ache at the root—and then she was pulling the montauk tee up and over her head, tossing it somewhere behind them onto the deck.
and paige—
paige had seen azzi's body a thousand times before. in locker rooms and hotel rooms, and that every summer morning spent in a heat so deep she felt dizzy, when countless bikinis and mini dresses had revealed nearly everything. but this was different. this was azzi offering herself, bare and unashamed, with the full knowledge of what it meant and what would follow.
"you sure?" paige asked, because she had to.
azzi’s eyes darkened, went low and ravenous.
"i've never been more sure of anything."
paige kissed her again, dragged her closer until distance was no longer an option. her hands found azzi's tits again, thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened, until azzi was gasping and grinding down against her, clit throbbing as she climbed sky high.
they moved together like they played together: instinctive, synchronous, each knowing what the other needed without having to ask. paige's mouth traced the path her hands had taken, lips and tongue and teeth working across azzi's collarbones, down to her tits, and azzi's fingers tightened in her hair, taking her captive, encouraging.
"fuck, paige," azzi breathed, and it sounded like the only thing paige wanted her name to ever mean.
the sun moved across the sky, falling and falling, the world flooding red with the last of it as theirs went white.
later, when the sun had fully fled and the moon reigned unclouded, they lay tangled together on the deck floor, a blanket barely enough for both of them draped across their cooling, sticky bodies.
azzi's head was resting mindlessly on paige's chest, their legs intertwined.
"we should probably go inside," azzi said, but she made no move to get up.
"probably," paige agreed, fingers tracing idle patterns on azzi's bare shoulder. “or we could just stay here forever."
“mmm,” azzi hummed. "i'd be okay with that."
paige smiled against the crown of her head. “i have such great ideas.”
azzi lifted her head to look at her then, chin propped on paige's sternum. "yeah, but. you'd get bored."
“with you? never."
“you’re such a fucking liar." but azzi was smiling, soft and private. "you'd miss basketball, your family. dallas, probably."
"maybe," paige admitted. "but when you’re gone, i miss you more than all of that combined."
azzi's expression shifted, turned vulnerable, so utterly revealing as a mix of emotion crossed her face. "i know, p. just two more weeks."
"two more weeks," paige repeated, as if to affirm the truth of it. "then you're done. then you're mine."
"i've always been yours," azzi said quietly.
paige pulled her up into a lazy kiss, slow and deep and thorough. when they broke apart, she pressed her forehead to azzi's, breathing her in.
"yeah," she whispered. "i know, princess. me too."
eventually, azzi untangled herself, stood on legs that looked unsteady. she paused at the top of the stairs that led down to the beach, turning to look over her shoulder at paige still sprawled on the floor, and smiled. the moonlight caught her just right—porcelain and pearlescent, haloing her dark hair like an angel’s kiss, her skin luminous—and for a moment, time stopped entirely.
paige tried to commit it to memory: the divine curve of azzi's neck, the perfect slope of her bare shoulders, the deep pink of her kiss-swollen lips, her hips in the light and the shadows that striped across her legs and stomach, paige’s bite marks left littered along her thighs, ruby and iris.
the world often proved her too unearthly to be real, but she was real nonetheless.
and paige could never believe it.
"let's go swim," azzi said, and her voice carried on the air, taken up with the salt mist of the water just off to the edge.
with the request, the world rushed back in: the mellow surge of the waves, the cry of the birds still loitering along the water, the feel of smoothed wood beneath paige's palms as she pushed herself up.
"let's race," paige called out, scrambling to the stairs eagerly, bare feet hitting every other step.
azzi laughed as she shouted after her—that is so not fair! you got a head start!—and took off running, hair streaming behind her like a meteor’s streak. when she passed paige, the other woman continued to follow, but not too closely, purposefully slowing down.
she held back just enough, let azzi sail ahead like a shooting star across the sand, her body a blur of unbridled joy.
paige could have caught her—probably. but she didn't.
she let azzi win, an inverse of the way azzi always did when it mattered for paige, when the winning meant getting to watch her celebrate. she let her crash into the waves first with a whoop of victory, watched her turn back with that triumphant grin, arms raised to the sky like she'd conquered something more than a footrace.
paige stood still, raised her hands until she fixed them into the shape of a faux camera frame, pretending to take the shot.
azzi posed, mouth pouty, eyes bright because she always got the joke.
here, paige thought. my heaven is here.
then paige dropped her hands and ran, gaining momentum to take azzi down around the waist into the salt and the blue. the moon was bright enough to pierce the water, and paige saw azzi in all its glow.
Recruiting Azzi to UConn was one of the best decisions Paige has ever made. Sharing the court with your best friend was one thing. But finding the love of your life in the process? that was another thing. After achieving their goal of winning the championship together. Paige had no other option but to move forward to the next chapter of her life by going professional, while Azzi decided to stay another year making up for what she had lost due to all the injuries. After being with your comfort person for 4 years straight— to not being in the presence with them at all was definitely a challenge for both of them. Regardless they’ll get through it, cause they’re Paige and Azzi.
warning 🚫 : language, light smut, a hint of angst.
my absolute favorite piece i’ve done so far <3 tell me your thoughts 💭
i would recommend listening to ‘a couple minutes’ by olivia dean while reading (to get the full experience) ❤️🩹
—。Presented and written by, azzidefender. (unedited)
03:21 a.m (Connenicut)
day of departure.
“don’t forget to drink your supliments before you go to bed and after you wake up”
“okay.”
“I packed you extra slimjims just in case you don’t have time to eat something when you arrive— since you know you’re going straight to media day after you land”
“mhm.”
“oh and remember to eat your greens even when i’m not there now” azzi grumbled between the creases of the blondes shoulder, tracing her finger lightly against her girlfriends chest. intertwining their bodies deeper against the mattress.
“…”
“p?”
“y-yeah?”
azzi furrowed her eyebrows by the blonde’s response, lifting her head as she finally faced the older’s face. tears brimming down one side of paige’s cheek as she tried her best to look at anywhere but her girlfriend’s brown bambi eyes that were filled with care casted by a warm glow through the crack of her window, making them even more of an orbit in paige’s life than they already are.
“hey what’s wrong baby? talk to me” azzi softly caressed paige’s jaw, patiently waiting for the older’s reason behind those worrisome reflection that was hiding against hers.
paige took a deep breath as she finally attached her gaze to the younger, voice cracking as she barely was able to form words “i just—
you are gonna be there. you can remind me to take my supplements before going to bed and after i wake up, you can remind me to eat, you can remind me to eat my greens— cause you’re still gonna be there az.” paige rambled, voice barely audiable but still clear enough for azzi to hear it.
azzi paid attention seriously at her girlfriend’s words before her gaze softened completely after realizing what paige had meant. “oh baby you know that wasn’t what i meant, of course I’ll still be there dummy. I’ll always be there to remind you, i swear you’re gonna get sick of my phone calls by day two.”
“y’know i could never get sick of you az.” paige shook her head, boldly disagreeing with the brunette words. “i know.” azzi replied just as confident, a soft sweet smile traced her lips as she gently leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against her girlfriend lips which paige quickly complied to, pulling her in. paige sighed into the kiss, melting it deeper before pulling away with a loud peck, a string of saliva still attached.
“I don’t even know why i’m acting like this right now. just yesterday, i was the one who was all reassuring you about us.” paige pouted, never looking away from azzi’s eyes. “it’s okay p, we both need reassurance. and i—”
azzi suddenly pushed herself up as she straddled paige’s hip, adjusting herself nicely on the olders lap. a very confused paige was only able to look up at her very adorable curly headed girlfriend, placing her hands firmly against her waist as if it was the most natural thing.
“i azzi jazlyn fudd will reassure you, paige madison bueckers. that i will forever be there to call or text you in the morning, afternoon and nights— by that i mean whenever we don’t have practice. and i will forever be there to haunt you to eat your greens and to love me 24/7” azzi declared playfully, lifting her right hand across her own chest as if it was an official declaration.
paige who was paying attention to every single word that came out of her cute girlfriend’s mouth had a dumb grin on her face through the whole declaration, her apple cheeks full on view. “first of all you’re a bad texter” she sheepishly replied, azzi rolled her eyes as she pouted “was that all you got outta my declaration? well you’re an exception dummy.”
paige who was now full on heart eyes, stared with nothing but tenderness towards azzi. “good. i’m the only exception.” she approvingly replied, with a slight hint of possessiveness. paige suddenly grinned and pulled her girlfriend back into her embrace. azzi let out a yelp in surprise but quickly giggled into the blondes clasp. paige nuzzled deeper into the creases of azzi’s neck, absorbing every hint of scent she possibly can before her flight in a few hours.
“still— i’m gonna miss this. holding you, smelling you, kissing you, touching you az.” paige murmured in her neck, never seeming to let go of her grasp. “i know. me too p.” azzi smiled sadly into the blondes hair, placing featherly kisses.
“promise come and visit?” paige slowly lifted her face, her deep ocean blue eyes pierced against the light hazel brown eyes azzi’s were already staring her at. “what are you talking about silly, you know i already booked a flight in three days to help you settle in, i would come with you today but mackenzie said i could not miss this ad opportunity— i mean it is american eagle…” azzi smiled so deeply her dimple popped up before she ended the last sentence with a grumble.
“that’s not what i meant baby, i mean after you have to go back again you know— after helping me settle in dallas…”
“paige babe what are you on, you know the only reason i’m going back is cause i booked a cruise for my family christmas prior and then i just need to shoot another ad and then I’m going straight back home to you.” azzi lifted one of her eyebrows as she stated the obvious, a grin never leaving her beautiful face.
“okay fairs.” paige gave up smiling as shrugged her shoulders, “but imma annoy you so bad during all of it, you’re gonna think I’m right there with you on the cruise trip” the blonde teased. “good, i wouldn’t have it any other way— well unless real you was there, but this comes to a close second.” azzi deepened her smile, making paige only fall deeper and deeper into her favorite dimple.
they spent the next extra hours cuddling and softly kissing each other, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. when the sun was finally beginning to rise, that was the first sign of the close farewell that they’ve both been dreading.
paige pulled azzi close, placing her face fully on the younger’s neck, “you think we’re gonna be okay?” she uttered very delicately— almost fragile. sounds she would never make unless she’s with azzi.
azzi lifted paige’s chin slightly as she leaned in, her nose brushing lightly against the older’s cheek as her mouth hovered right above the blonde’s. so close paige could feel azzi’s breath against hers. “i know we’re gonna be okay.” azzi caressed her jaw as she held her eyes against hers, she replied with no hint of doubt nor hesitance. paige exhaled, that was all she needed.
azzi’s reassurance, azzi’s hands against her jaw, azzi’s breath against her lips.
azzi was all she needed. and she knows they’re gonna be okay.
20:08 p.m (Dallas, Texas.)
2 days later
but she wasn’t okay.
the first day of media has been gruelsome. she has done loads of media before. but today? they were extremely nosy, ‘paige what took you so long to arrive at dallas?, all the other teammates arrived pretty early’ like damn what was she supposed to answer to that dumb question— can’t a girl be busy? can’t a girl take her time before moving halfway across the world? it’s not like she won’t be here (in dallas) regardless.
she knows she’s overthinking it, but she felt a bit overwhelmed. she barely had any time to celebrate the natty, she had to immediately get ready for the draft, then pack then actually move.
and now she’s here in dallas, alone. well for now since azzi is coming tommorow which she couldn’t be more relieved and happier about.
paige knew being in dallas was gonna be a work in progress. she reminded herself what azzi had told her yesterday through their midnight facetime call, ‘it’s okay to be overwhelmed and nervous baby, it’s a new place, a new city, a new chapter in your life, you’ll do great. it just takes time p.’
paige was at least glad that she had azzi there to keep her grounded. she misses her— already. call her a lovesick puppy but seeing your girlfriend for the past four years straight to not seeing her at all was cruel. she always wondered what azzi was up to, where was she at, who was she with. but not in the matter that she didn’t trust azzi— she just wanted to be there with her.
so she did what any other missing girlfriend would do and grabbed her phone out of her pocket. she opened her messages app and stared at their very full chatroom. she wondered if azzi felt bothered by how she keeps texting her every other minute. it’s been almost an hour now, and she’s just itching to talk to her but she knows azzi is still filming for her ad so she didn’t really wanna pester her. she thought she should be an understanding girlfriend for once in a while, so just as she was about to hold herself and lock her screen something popped out.
incoming facetime from az 💗…
a wide grin took over the blonde’s face, so.. she wasn’t the only one thinking about the other, it’s still crazy to think how much azzi understands her even from miles away. she swiped the answer button so quick, not wasting a second before the second ring.
azzi’s face immediately filled up her whole screen, and she suppressed a very much audible ‘damn.’ out loud just enough for azzi to hear. she looked so beautiful, as always. but azzi was currently full face with makeup that highlighted her doe eyes and plump lips, her curls were blown out for the photoshoot looking soft as ever, paige loved when azzi’s curls were out.
“well hello to you too babe” azzi giggled through the screen, and paige swore to God that added at least ten years into her life span, hearing one of her favorite sounds in the world with that deep dimple that she could just drown into forever. “oh sorry, hi baby.” paige sheepishly uttered, her ears growing light pink by sudden embarrassment of being caught.
“i was just about to text you”
“and why didn’t you?” azzi asked with one of her eyebrows arched.
“dunno… i didn’t wanna bother your shoot mama” paige mumbled, which caused azzi to only furrow deeper.
“paige you knew the second you sat next to me on that plane ride back to minnesota, nothing with you in it could bother me anymore, i mean—sometimes it could but i’ve already committed to your annoying-ness since we were sixteen, a text from you would never bother me p.” the younger replied, clearly stating the obvious which made paige more and more in love with her than she already is.
“i know… sorry baby” paige nodded, smiling warmly against the brown eyes that was staring very seriously through her screen, “nothing to be sorry about p, just text me, call me, bother me—
azzi took a halt for half a second before she lowered her voice a bit, loud enough for only paige to hear behind the background noises of a very much loud set . “I love it when you bother me…” a light blush spread across azzi’s cheeks, clearly not used to saying it out loud to her very much obnoxious girlfriend who would never let her hear the end of it if she was actually there. but since they’re miles away? why not give the blonde something to be giddy about.
paige who was now showing all 32 of her teeth full on view, couldn’t be more happier to hear that from azzi, “sap” she smiled.
“bro whatever” azzi rolled her eyes, tho her grin never leaving her face. “what did you do today? tell me”
and just like that they went to their new routine, talking to each other through the phone for hours.(after azzi photoshoot ended) not wanting to end the line until one of them fell asleep. this was their new normal, but both paige and azzi knew deep down they never wanted this to be the new normal.
the next day (01:45 p.m)
anyone with eyes could tell that paige was beyond excited today. she looked like a golden retriever wagging it’s tail in anticipation, waiting for it’s owner to finally get home. she woke up super early for absolutely no reason at all even though she knew azzi was not gonna arrive until the afternoon.
regardless she got ready and arrived at the dallas forth worth airport an hour early. but she wouldn’t tell azzi that for the sake of her own pride (at the end of the day, they were best friends before they were girlfriends, so no. telling azzi that was NOT an option.) anyways the minute a familiar curly brown headed girl walked through the exit gate, paige smiled and greeted her with a warm embrace, hands curling tightly around the younger’s waist. as she leaned in for a deep kiss, which she so deeply had missed. her lips fitting perfectly against azzi’s.
which of course azzi melted into immediately, pulling out with a loud peck “hey you.” she smiled, her dimple deep as ever. she leaned back, looking right into her favorite ocean blue eyes. which was already looking straight at her. “hi.” paige murmured sheepishly, her cheeks turning into a light shade of pink, almost— shy. like she could never get used to her girlfriend’s gaze and affection after all these years. “how was the flight?” she added.
“m’kay just a bit tired” she sighed. her hands loosening around the older’s neck while paige arms were still hovering over her waist. “let’s take you home then.” paige uttered, immediately grabbing the younger’s suitcase, the minute azzi was about to say “it’s fine, i can do—” paige stared at her like there was no room for an argument. pulling the suitcase with her left arm as she interlocked her right with azzi’s hand, hiding it inside her hoodie to keep her warm.
and paige knew it was too soon to call dallas her home, i mean it’s only been three days for god’s sake. but she felt like as long as azzi was right there beside her, anywhere can feel like home. cause azzi is her home. her one and only true source of comfort and where she feels truely safe.
they walked hand in hand as they went to the airport parking lot where paige had parked her car. azzi as if she was on auto-pilot immediately opened the passenger’s door while paige was opening the trunk to place the younger’s suitcase. after a loud click of shutting the baggage, paige jogged towards the driver seat.
paige knew azzi would usually be overstimulated and jet lagged after every flight, so she decided to drive back quietly, which azzi very much appreciated cause she was indeed overwhelmed and tired, so the ride back was filled with a comfortable silence.
paige’s apartment was not even that far from the airport but somehow her passenger princess had already fallen asleep. paige parked the car easily and shutted off the engine. she looked to her right, where her girlfriend was comfortably leaning against the door, her head tilted to the side as one of her cheek was right against the window, and a pout was formed permanently across her lips. leaving paige to stare at her for a couple minutes at the adorable sight, reminiscing her girlfriend’s features that she missed oh so dearly.
she poked her softly, “hey baby, we’re here. wake up.” paige uttered gently. azzi’s eyes flickered at the commotion, she opened her eyes and slowly blinked in confusion like she just was trying to remember where she were. the second azzi’s doe eyes fluttered at paige, paige couldn’t help but get a massive cuteness attack— god she’s adorable.
“already? that was quick” she yawned, as she took off her seatbelt. “yeah, you can continue your nap inside sleepyhead.” the older smiled, caressing her girlfriend’s hand before she left a quick peck between her knuckles. azzi shook her head in disagreement and murmured “but I’m supposed to help you unpack” she said softly. “well you can help me do that after we take a nap” paige raised her eyebrows in an obvious manner, still grinning.
azzi tilted her head, taking a couple seconds to think, she looked like she was thinking and considering really hard, which paige found very amusing. “okay.” azzi finally said, nodding to herself like she promised she’ll do it after her well rested nap. paige let’s out an amused chuckle before they both opened the door.
i mean technically azzi really was supposed to help paige adjust and move in to her apartment because they had a very limited time together before the younger had to go again. and she knew they would never unpack all of the things by that short amount of time. but what could she do? her one and only princess was feeling tired and sleepy. she couldn’t possibly not let azzi get her beauty rest. besides she can finish unpacking it herself, even if azzi just sat there and looked pretty, that would be enough for paige.
plus a light nap wouldn’t harm anyone, would it?
three hours passed by, and it was now late in the afternoon. azzi gradually opened her eyes, a little groan escaped her lips as she shuffled awake. “morning bighead.” paige on the other hand, had just woken up ten minutes ago. she couldn’t move from her position since her girlfriend decided to sleep on her forearm the entire three hours as a pillow (even though azzi had one of her own) so yes. paige could no longer feel her whole left arm. she took the extra five minutes to stare at her girlfriend who slept just like the princess and the pea, recollecting just how a week ago, she was still able to wake up every morning with this view— her favorite view. then she took the other extra five minutes to lazily scroll on her phone, checking it out while she waited azzi to wake up.
“don’t exaggerate… it’s only been a few hours” azzi mumbled, still very much dissociating. she suddenly sat up, looking left and right around paige’s room, her eyes still blinking heavily, and her pout was still permanently attached. she was what paige was assuming taking in her new room. which azzi only had seen from facetime before. paige who was now free from the agonizing pain on her left bicep, groaned silently as she stretched out her limbs. circling it around to try and gain her blood flow back. she did it quickly before azzi got back down— but now she decided to lay exactly on top her chest, her legs straddling the older’s as she sighed in between the creases of paige’s neck.
paige grinned and immediately placed her hands on the brunette’s waist. wrapping it around securely as she slowly caressed azzi’s skin beneath the thick hoodie she wore. after approximately five seconds, azzi lifted her head and faced her girlfriend. “hi.” she smiled. her one dimple visibly popping out, showcasing her sweet bunny smile. “hey.” the older muttered back a reply, not doing any less well with her apple cheeks full on view.
“i missed you.” azzi muttered underneath her breath, so small it was only audible for paige to hear. (they were the only ones in the room anyways) “i missed you too baby.” paige uttered gently, her focus fully on the brown bambi orbs she loved so much. azzi leaned down and placed a quick peck on the older’s lips, then another and another. paige grew impatient and tugged azzi hips forward and lifted one of her hands towards azzi’s jaw, pulling her into a deep kiss. they made out for a while. almost like they were chasing all the kisses they lost due to these past three days. azzi hummed into paige’s mouth before she broke it off with one loud smooch.
“Iove the room” azzi muttered, “especially this bed, you upgraded.” she said, touching the super soft mattress, where she knocked out the second she layed down earlier. “well since i got my own crib now, i can finally get us a bed big enough for both of us. it’s heated too!” paige halted then added “nothing like our cramped bed at the dorm.”
“okay now mrs alumni.chill on me.” azzi chuckled. “besides i kinda liked it. being cramped with you in a tiny bed for four years” she added with a wink. paige smugly grinned at the past thoughts about all of the things they had done on that bed. before her smile went into a straight line, suddenly also remembering all the not so good thoughts. “well of course you liked it, you almost made me fall out off bed every morning az.” paige talked in a monotone voice, not quite fond of those memories. azzi laughed, recalling how many times paige had fallen on the floor by the start of the morning, paige would always groan and curse herself awake, while azzi would always laugh hysterically at the blonde, woken up by a loud thud on the bedroom floor. paige would also glare at azzi for being the main reason she was on the floor but somehow always ended up laughing with her, at least she made azzi smile to begin the day. (sap.)
“hey that bed has tons of memories! it even still has the ketchup stain you left when you ate your lays there.” azzi called out, raising one eyebrow as paige let out a dramatic gasp. “i thought we agreed to put that in the past already!”
azzi rolled her eyes with no real bite in it, while paige out of the blue appeared with a devilish smirk “plus we can make new memories, here. on this bed.” she oddly specified, her voice suddenly toned out a bit, clearing trying to start something. “oh yea? like what? more ketchup stains on the new bed when you munch on your lays here?” azzi decided to be playful and dismissed her girlfriend’s perverted intentions. paige smugged look quickly vanished as she dropped her head back on the covers and groaned. “stop being annoying bro, i was trying to be romantic” she glanced up at the very giggly azzi.
the brunette finally stopped laughing and slowly lowered her head to the side, hovering her mouth right besides paige’s ear as whispered in a sultry tone that god— paige was a soo down bad for. “mm’ i know. i can’t wait too p. to make new memories with you, here. on this bed.”
paige’s face instantly lit up and her smug grin of course immediately came back. “oh yea? how about we make one right now?” she suddenly lowered her voice to that sexy tone that azzi was always a sucker for before she suddenly flipped them around. azzi squealed in surprise as her back softly hitted the mattress. azzi giggled while paige grinned even wider, leaning her lips on the younger’s neck. trailing down soft wet kisses. “i would love to. but later. I’m hungry right now p.” azzi pouted, gently grabbing her girlfriend’s face away from her neck.
paige who was already forty percent in love-sick mode (she’s always on 100%) pupils dilated and everything uttered distractedly. “what kind of hungry?” narrowing her eyes, like she actually couldn’t tell.
“the eating-an-actual-meal-kinda-hungry p.”
paige paused and huffed a quiet laugh, her lips curved up. as she leaned back. “aight. let’s get you fed princess.” she nodded, caressing azzi gently along her hips. “but there’s no running away from this later.” she teased, her thumb tracing the faint line of the younger’s panties that was slightly peaking aside. azzi’s breath caught, just a little. her composure suddenly shifting.
just as azzi was about to decide to forget about food and should actually just start eating this insanely good looking woman in front of her, paige disappointedly started to get up, smacking azzi’s butt playfully while doing so “c’mon get your pretty ass up az.” she grinned, that teasing glint alive in her eyes. like she already knew what effect she had on azzi. azzi glared, “your annoying.” she huffed out.
“glad it’s mutual babe.” paige sing-songed as she walked out the door.
paige led the way to the kitchen, immediately going behind the counter to prepare a late lunch for both of them. azzi trailed behind not long after that, eyebrows raised in confusion as soon as she saw her girlfriend opening the cupboards.
“what are you doing?” she questioned.
“what does it look like i’m doing? making us a meal obviously.” the blonde answered sarcastically as she still rummaged through her cabinets, her inner voice stating a loud “duh.” sound.
“i know what you’re doing, but i don’t know what you’re doing p.” azzi uttered again, deciding to specify what she swore she was mistakenly seeing.
“what? just cookin up a meal for my girl” paige who still hadn’t looked at the younger replied obliviously.
“uh-huh… and since when do you cook?“
paige finally decided to look at her girlfriend who was still standing in between her living room and kitchen, arms crossed, brows raised clearly expecting for an answer. paige shrugged her shoulders as if it was not a big deal, “what can i say az? i’m a changed woman now.” she unbotheredly answered. then continued her research for whatever she was trying to look for.
oh but paige cooking was such a big deal to azzi, cause paige never cooks, the last time she did? (well attempted) her dorm nearly caught on fire. and after paige got a massive earful from jana and allie, her roommates. she never bothered to anymore.
“it’s been three days paige—” azzi stated unimpressed. but the minute she saw what her girlfriend was ‘cooking’ out of the cupboard, her face shifted into pure horror. no. no. no way this girl—
cause can someone please kindly explain to azzi why her girlfriend decided to pull out a container? that looks like… lunchables. azzi opened her mouth to say something but closed it again when paige decided to start assembling it.
“paige.”
“hmm?” paige answered mindlessly, her focus fully on the cheese, salami and crackers that were in front of her.
“paige.” azzi called out more firmly which quickly gained the blonde’s attention.
“what babe?”
“you can’t be serious.”
“oh i’m so serious”
“is this what you have been living off for the past three days?” azzi bore her eyes on her girlfriend’s thick skull that kept toring between azzi and her crackers. that line surely got to paige cause she instantly gasped, one hand flew straight to her chest.
“umm no? I try new spots around dallas for breakfast and dinner, this is just… for lunch” she defended, like that was a well enough excuse for eating pre-packaged food for three days straight. azzi couldn’t believe this, well she could cause this was paige. but still.
azzi who now was giving paige her ultimate wrath of a death stare (that the older always felt uneasy to) directly stepped behind the counter, walking straight to the refrigerator. paige who of course already knew her girlfriend’s thoughts, was one step quicker to move right in front of her, blocking azzi’s path to the fridge.
“move.”
“baby here me out.”
“i said move paige.” azzi widened her eyes, indicating paige that she was indeed not playing, and certainly was not in the mood for one of her self defenses. paige winched before she very slowly stepped aside. azzi who was now free to her path, opened the refrigerator door.
“you’ve got to be kidding me” azzi gaped, gazing at the very empty refrigerator. she thought paige had already went to the grocery store two days ago. but all she could see inside was a pack of gatorade, trufru, slimjims, chicken breast, a singular apple? what. leftover chinese takeout and reeses—
“p there’s no single valuable nutrient nor greens in sight. and before you even start, no. an apple and your trufu does not count.” azzi looked over to her right, watching her girlfriend who was currently busy munching on her crackers.
“what’chu mean babe, this is all the necessities i need” the blonde argued with a bit of a pout, as her eyebrows furrowed. azzi sighed, still holding one of the fridge handles as her other hand was raised on the air, loudly signaling where? towards the fridge.
“yea your kind of necessities p, not the what-you-need-to-stay-alive kind of necessities”
“hey! be kind az, my lunchables can still hear you.” paige gawked, trying to defend her plastic snack. azzi took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second, she almost felt bad for leaving her beloved annoying girlfriend for three days like this, how could she possibly think of leaving her now? she placed one hand on her hip “did you at least buy eggs? toilet paper? laundry detergent?” she said more calmly, her head tilted a bit to the side.
“…”
“okay forget eating, we’re going to target. now.” azzi shut the door and dragged one of paige’s arm. she took a few strides forward before she abruptly stopped the other way to face her girlfriend. “and don’t even think about bringing that with you.” she eyed what paige considered a full meal this past days.
paige huffed and left the plastic container on her counter, “k but we’re ordering drive though, can’t let you not eat” she retorted seriously, still always felt the urge to take care of azzi, even tho azzi was pissed at her. (not because she bought a bunch of random stuff but more so because she was not taking care of herself fully)
azzi paused for a second as she stared at her girlfriend who was staring back at her, waiting for her to agree (not that paige will take no as an answer) she always takes care of azzi, and that’s why azzi’s so pissed. okay maybe it’s just food and maybe azzi was just overreacting a bit but how can she possibly let her girlfriend take care of herself like this? when she always treat her and other people with so much care. it’s unfair, at least to azzi. cause she wants paige to prioritize herself too sometimes, most times. and as long as azzi is with her, she’ll always take care of paige.
azzi finally suppressed a smile, “fine.” which of course got the blonde to also smile, paige took her hand and interlocked it between her fingers. “c’mon let’s go, grocery date with my girl” she grinned smugly, pulling azzi with her as she grabbed her keys from the entryway table.
azzi could only shake her head and laugh as she got dragged to the car, sometimes she still can’t believe she fell for her stupid annoying best friend. tho, she wouldn’t have it any other way.
06:45 a.m (Connenicut)
summer practice. 1 month in.
“azzi! azzi! wake up! you’re gonna be late for lift” yanna yelled as she knocked azzi’s bedroom door a few times, each knock a little louder than the one before. azzi grimaced at the loud noise, the sheets shifting slightly as she shifted her limbs. “ugh…what time is it” she groaned. “6:45! we gotta be there by 7” yanna replied more hurriedly, “me and kayleigh are gonna head out first, we thought you were already awake— i mean you usually are.” yanna added.
azzi got up immediately after she heard what time it was “fuck. okay just go first!” she replied, stepping into her closet. immediately changing out of her pajama shorts. she could hear a faint “sorry fudd” outside of her bedroom, probably from both yanna and kayleigh. shit shit shit she thought. “CD is gonna kill me” she muttered, pulling her training shirt down her neck.
azzi almost have never been late before. ever. well the one time she has been late was during her sophomore year, and it was partly… because of paige. (partly as in 80% was definitely paige’s fault.) it was when they started to hook up a lot as ‘best friends’, thinking it was normal, at least for them. don’t get it wrong the made out a lot of times before azzi even arrived at uconn, but ever since azzi got here? they were inseparable. or like ‘disgustingly inseparable’ as her teammates would like to say. they got together officially before azzi’s junior year.
but paige was also the main reason why azzi had never been late, azzi could get up early if she wanted to. at the beginning of her freshman year, she had ten alarms blaring every morning. but ever since paige slept in her room or she slept in hers, paige always kinda woke her up first, naturally. without ten alarms blasting her eardrums. even when they weren’t sleeping in the same room, paige would always go up and down to her dorm an hour before lifts or practice just to make sure azzi was awake and didn’t sleep in.
speaking of the devil, her phone ringed throughout her room. she knows it’s paige, i mean she’s the only one with vip privileges through her do not disturb settings. she quickly picked up her phone that was sprawled on bed and ran to the bathroom, picking up her brush and toothpaste while she swiped the answer button. the blonde’s pillow face filled her view, clearly just had woken up too hence dallas was still an hour behind. “morning baby.” she uttered sleepily.
“morninfdg” morning. azzi goggled through her mouth full of toothpaste, brushing it way to aggressively. “ur not in the weight room yet? aren’t you supposed to be there in like… ten?” paige who was now more awake and aware, furrowed. opening their shared calendar app. azzi gave her a deadpanned look, something screaming along the lines of ‘what does it look like p?’
“my bad, you better be quick tho babe. CD is gonna kill you.” the older winched, she could already hear the traumatic earful wrath from the past. ‘that’s what i said’ azzi inwardly thought as she spitted her toothpaste and washed her mouth clean.
azzi grabbed a singular rice cake from the pantry, slid on her slides, grabbed her keys and she was already out. she probably looked like shit, but she was gonna sweat anyways so who fucking cares, certainly not her right now.
paige who was doing whatever she was doing right now through facetime (she was washing her face. probably also getting ready for early practice) was calming azzi through the phone. “calm down baby, it’s gonna be okay.” she reassured, eyes closed, face full of white foam. “how do you know that” azzi muttered, turning her keys and biting a chunk out of her rice cake. once her engine was warmed up enough, she backed up her truck and drove away from the parking lot.
“cuz you rarely get late, well— except for that one time.” she made a point, tho that last sentence sounded a bit smug. azzi rolled her eyes while she sped up a bit, she has three minutes left, three! for an eight minute drive to the practice facility. so she was at least gonna be five minutes late. and to CD?five minutes was like fifty. so no she was not likely gonna be okay. “drive safe az.” paige added a bit seriously as she began brushing her teeth. azzi nodded even she was unsure she was gonna do that. “imma call you after lift and practice okay paige? good luck on your practice babe” azzi uttered, hovering the end button call since she was already near the facility. (almost if she wished harder)
the older nodded, mouth still full of foam. “i lobve yfou!” i love you! azzi gave out a small genuine smile, “i love you too. see u babe” she replied, ending the call when her girlfriend waved through the camera signaling ‘bye bye.’
cute. azzi thought.
“okay, it’s okay” azzi said in consolation as she finally arrived. she wanted to park her car at her and paige’s usual spot for only it to be taken. great. that’s fine. it’s not like she owned the parking lot, but it was just her favorite cause it was close to the entrance. so she decided to park a bit further. people would usually leave it empty since paige’s car was always parked there, but I guess they decided to take it since paige was not around anymore.
she turned off the engine, hopped out the car and locked it. she ran to the locker room to change into her practice shoes, shit. she forgot.
her practice shoes was still at the athletic department and she forgot to pick it up cause she forgot she got it washed. again. she doesn’t wanna blame paige but this was also technically her fault. for always giving azzi the princess treatment and never letting her pick up her own laundry gear. she should’ve done that yesterday. she squeezed her eyes shut when she saw the only shoes that was available were her kobe nike’s protro 6 (why did she think keeping pink shoes in her locker room was a good idea again?) and since she would legitimately get killed if she walked in using slides by CD, this was her only option. at least she wouldn’t be dead by the end of this if she wore these instead right?
wrong.
azzi genuinely think she died and her soul was hovering. cause CD in fact was not in a good mood today, and she definitely definitely did not take it lightly on her. 1.) the minute she walked in into the weight room, she could already see the daggers behind her head just by how deep CD was boring her eyes into her skull. azzi wasn’t sure if it was because she was late or if it was because of her bright pink shoes, most likely both. 2.) not only did she get an earful 30 minute lecture on how she was setting a bad example for the freshmen’s, she did it in front of every single teammate, including the transfers. 3.) which is probably the worst of em all, CD decided to punish her by doing extra sprints and extra drills, which was fine if it was just for her. but no, she quote on quote said, “one person does something wrong, the whole team’s getting it!” which made azzi of course feel fucking terrible, because she was a senior for god’s sake.
her teammates kept reassuring her that it was okay, and she didn’t do it on purpose anyways, kk even tried to cheer her up by saying “girl boo. i did this to y’all at least three times already, yea it sucks but it’s not like you intended this to happen.” sarah also added a few words of encouragement like “no worries fudd” and “c’mon let’s just get it over with and grab cava on the way back” which was kinda comforting, even the freshmens like kelis and blanca told her it was fine, but they’re freshmens, of course they wouldn’t say anything to azzi. who knows what they feel on the inside. (they genuinely did not mind)
azzi really felt horrible after that, she kept saying sorry to each of her teammates after practice. and walked back to the locker room with her head hung low after her cold plunge. sarah and kk asked if she wanted to grab cava before her summer class at 12 p.m (she’s chasing her masters) , so she nodded. she really needed to get some food in her system. sarah offered to drive which azzi was thankful for, cause she was not feeling like driving at all.
sarah was in the driver seat, azzi in the passenger seat while kk was behind. azzi was quiet throughout the ride, probably still thinking about earlier. the truck was filled with sarah and kk slightly chattering and bickering, which was at least a bit amusing for azzi. she stayed mute the whole ride, looking out to the side of her window. azzi didn’t even realize she was already at the cava’s drive through. “azzi! what do you want?” azzi snapped out of her thoughts, “oh one harrisa avocado, but exchange the basmati rice with brown rice and add extra corn and sour cream please.” she told sarah as she brought her credit card out, which the sophomore nodded to and repeated to the speaker.
‘paige would’ve known that…’, azzi pondered, looking back at her window, slightly missing the certain blonde who knew her better than anyone.
4 hours later… (02:30 p.m)
well summer class was as boring as it always was, but accounting was really testing her, azzi fucking hates accounting. which does not make any sense cause she enjoys math. but today? life was definitely testing her.
not only did she spilled sour cream on her brand new hoodie earlier, she also forgot to bring her water bottle, the one that paige would always fill up every morning, her pink owala that paige bought her. the one that had a custom print with princess azzi on it. and to top it all off, there was no longer her six foot, tall, blonde girlfriend waiting on the other side of the classroom’s door. the one that would always make azzi excited to leave after class. yea that one. is all the way in fucking texas. so yea azzi’s grumpy and yea azzi is fucking exhausted. call her spoiled, she missed being pampered by her girlfriend.
azzi walked outside of campus in hurried steps, trying to get to the dorm as soon as possible, not even bothering to greet at the students she knew. she texted paige throughout the day, but it seemed like her girlfriend was busy. i mean yea it was her first rookie season after all, so azzi understands. of course she does. and it’s not like paige didn’t reply to her, she replied every-time she could get free, even if it was short and quick.
azzi pouted slightly when her messages were still unread, the last one that the older replied to was three hours ago. she huffed but quickly shaked her head, tugging it away and tried her best to understand that paige was busy. she drove back to her dorm deciding she should probably just take a nap or read.
so that’s what she did, she showered then read for at least an hour and took a nap. nothing could possibly get any worse today right? also wrong. she woke up feeling super uncomfortable with a piercing pain on her stomach. yes, you guessed it. she got her fucking period. and yes, to make matters worse, she bled through the sheets. that was the last nerve for azzi. she was so overwhelmed, she started to tear up. she didn’t even get out of bed when she immediately reached out for her phone and called the only person she wanted to hear. it was now almost six so dallas was probably around five p.m, she wasn’t sure the blonde was gonna pick up but after the second ring, the line connected.
“hey az, sorry i was busy the whole— hey. hey. baby? shh… it’s okay… it’s okay, i’m here princess. what’s wrong?” paige greeted but quickly comforted the younger when she saw her girlfriend’s doe eyes was on the verge of tears. that’s all it took for azzi to broke, paige’s voice was so comforting, she missed it so much. she sobbed quietly as she began spilling out everything that happened that day, she also unashamedly pointed her camera at her bled stained sheets, paige had already seen her in a way worse condition before, so this was nothing compared to that, but she wished she was here, coddling her, grounding her, taking care of her.
paige comforted azzi with reassuring words during the whole call, using her soft sweet voice that she only did for azzi. once azzi was done crying and slowly getting herself back together, paige patiently waited and carefully guided azzi to clean herself and her bedsheets so she could feel cozy again. she never once left the frame nor the call. filling in azzi with her day as well, trying to cheer her up with her light jokes that azzi softly sniffed and laughed to.
even when azzi decided to shower again (the third time today) paige never left and accompanied her. watching her protectively, making sure she’s better. after two hours, azzi knew paige had dinner plans with her friends so she of course assured paige that she was okay now (she wasn’t really ready to end the call) and told her to get ready. but paige being paige, the one that knew her inside out, shook her head. telling her that she’ll just reschedule it. azzi felt bad again, but before she even had the chance to think negatively, paige countered. “my girl comes first, and no don’t feel bad princess, they’ll understand. and if they don’t then they’re out of the picture, everyone has to know i put you first above anything else. you know i rather spend the night talking to you anyways baby.”
“even above ball?” azzi giggled, raising her eyebrows amusingly. “hmm that’s tough, you’re a very close second” paige annoyingly thought about it, clearly faking it. azzi smiled as she hummed quietly, “of course i am, you’re a close second to ball too.” the older grinned, “great! ball and me for life, what more could you ask for?” paige wiggled her eyebrows.
azzi who was already feeling much more light hearted, finally smiled fully dimpled for the first time today, she shook her head “nothing more i could ask for, just you and basketball are perfect for me.” paige who could never get used to azzi’s compliment, grinned like an idiot, her face turning fully pink, azzi loved it.
after a few seconds of silence, the blonde spoke up again, voice slightly lighter, slightly softer, more truthful.
“me too az. just you and basketball.”
05:21 p.m (Dallas, Texas.)
two weeks before playoffs. 5 months in.
paige fucking missed azzi. like an obnoxious amount. she hasn’t seen her since all-star, which was ages ago. (2-3 months) she honestly didn’t expect to came out the way she did in the wag interview (that blew up like crazy.) but nonetheless she didn’t regret it, she was actually happy for a couple weeks, finally able to show off to the world that azzi fudd was taken, by none other than paige bueckers herself.
but the internet was still the internet. of course they decided to pry into their relationship as soon as they gave them a bit of a chance. and paige hated it. azzi hated it. well paige hated it a bit more since azzi wasn’t as active as paige in social media. ‘thank god.’ paige thought. she’s thankful everyday that her girl does not give a single care in the world about the internet, cause if she did? she can’t imagine what bullshit azzi has to see. paige herself is enough to see this bullshit. and she’ll do everything she can so azzi does not have to.
cause fucking apparently, paige has been cheating on azzi? i know, shocker. paige? the paige bueckers? cheating?
cheating itself was already crazy to her, cause she knows, she’ll never in her life go into a relationship just to *check notes* cheat? do people really think that lowly of her? she’ll never stoop that low, what.
but what’s crazy was, people were assuming she cheated on azzi?! no, now that is INSANITY. azzi fudd? her best friend ever since she was sixteen. the girl she cared for more than anyone in this world alongside her family??? the one woman she loves with all of her heart and being? yea, no fucking way.
the media can twist their own narratives about her anytime they want, she doesn’t care anymore. she’s been here for long enough to know how to deal with it, but she won’t let azzi’s name get dragged around like that. so her and azzi decided to keep their relationship strictly private again, which wasn’t really a problem for either of them since they both like to keep their relationship sacred, just between the two of them, paige & azzi.
yes azzi would sometimes want to post paige here and there but she’s completely fine without doing it so either, paige would let azzi do whatever she want if that was what azzi wanted, but then again. as if azzi was paige’s match made in heaven (she was.) of course azzi understood paige’s point of view, and decided she doesn’t want to either, tho if she does change her mind in the future, paige would still agree with whatever she wanted. so nothing wrong with going private again.

plus what azzi didn’t know was. she’s starting her last season at uconn soon, and paige knows the media as if it was the back of her hand. azzi is one of the best basketball players she’s ever seen, she’s a perfect guard, great lock down defender, she’s an all rounder. and she’s the fucking best shooter in the nation, no doubt. hell, she’ll even let azzi shoot the last bucket if her life was in stake. that’s how great she is.
but the media keeps tying her name to azzi like glue, and not the good kind she wants. it’s always paige bueckers girlfriend this, paige bueckers girlfriend that. what about azzi jazlyn fudd? y’know she’s her own fucking person, and she’s already incredible without having her tied to it. at this point she wants her to be known as azzi fudd’s girlfriend for once. paige of course did not tell azzi about this, because even if she did, she would already guess the younger’s reply. ‘but i like being called your girlfriend?’ azzi questioned, tilting her head to the side as a pout formed on her lips. of course she did, how could her loving, too-good-for-this-world, sweet girlfriend not. paige also liked that people knew azzi was hers.
but paige wanted the best for azzi, cause in paige’s eyes azzi was already the best. but she wanted the world to know that azzi was exactly the best for being azzi fudd. not her girlfriend.
so yes keeping their relationship private was the best option for now, at least until azzi gets drafted. or whenever or maybe (never) they were ready to share it a bit to the public again.
so back to the start, paige was fucking glad that all azzi ever cared for was basketball, her stinky feet cottage cheese and paige. as she should, cause the media narratives definitely was not worth her time.
not to mention the wings are a mess right now, barely winning any games. they’re currently 9-31, horrific. paige knew she was never gonna make it to playoffs but she’s at least determined to make it 10 wins, at least. this amateur coach was also getting on her nerves, she really tried to work with him at the beginning, but putting her in throughout the entire game? she can’t even feel her legs anymore, every single limb on her body fucking hurts, and she was already ready for the season to be over.
azzi was thriving though. which made paige happy and excited for her season to start, paige wasn’t able to visit her due to her and azzi’s hectic schedule that keeps crashing. paige heard all about her trip to china with steph, her upcoming SLAM cover, and her never ending NIL deals that keeps contacting her. paige couldn’t be more proud. but she missed her so much it was starting to hurt. everyday she goes back to her empty apartment feeling tired and lonely, she misses being held by her girlfriend’s loving arms. she can’t even meet her after the season was over, cause that meant azzi was preparing for her season to start.
so when her friends decided to book a trip to the turks after the season was over? she agreed. at least she won’t be alone while azzi was busy, she could enjoy the sun, the sea and enjoy her off season with her friends. tho, she wished the younger could’ve come with her.
so here she is right now, alone yet again after a tough loss against the sparks. usually azzi would text her by now, and they would call until they had something to do again, and if they didn’t, they would talk until the other fell asleep. but azzi hasn’t been replying to her text all day except for when she wished her good morning and good luck for the game. azzi already told her she was gonna be busy today but paige couldn’t understand why she couldn’t at least reply to her text and update her through the day. they always did that. paige also knew azzi was a bad texter. god, this was one of her biggest pet peeve’s about azzi, and even if she has improved for paige ever since they started long distance, days like this annoyed her so bad.
she sighed and unlocked her apartment, she placed her phone on dnd so the only notification that was able to come through to her was from azzi, which she hasn’t heard from at all. she decided to take a nice long hot shower to relax her muscles and mind. but even after she did that, and ate dinner and played some fortnight, azzi still hadn’t called nor texted her. paige called and texted azzi multiple times, but it was just left unanswered and unread.
paige who was now impatient and annoyed, opened azzi’s location, ‘she’s still at campus, so why on earth can’t she reply?’ the blonde furrowed, she looked at her empty chatroom for the 20th time. and decided to try and call one last time.
08:21 Az 💗 : morning babe
08:21 Az 💗 : gonna be busy today, good luck on your game 😘
08:43 You : good morning baby
08:43 You : thanks, no i love you? 😞
08:44 You : have a great day babe, update me.
09:51 You : just got to practice
09:52 You : *attach picture* (basketball shoes)
09:52 You : great pick yesterday 😈
11:00 You : just done with practice, gonna head back b4 the game
11:02 You : wyd?
13:21 You : you really haven’t checked ur phone? 😐
13:22 You : game starts in 30, i need an ‘I love you’ goodluck.
13:49 You : wow ok ms. busy 🙄
16:31 You : we lost again. did u watch?
16:32 You: wait forgot u were busy. too busy to update ur girl?
16:40 You : ok now ur really starting to annoy me az. 😒
16:51 You : azzi? bro.
17:01 You : can you call me when I get home? wanna talk to u.
17:20 You : i’m home.
17:31 You : *unanswered call*
17:42 You : *unanswered call*
20:02 You : *unanswered call*
20:03 You : azzi are u fr?
20:03 You : fine. or just don’t talk to me i guess.
paige typed and threw her phone with a bit of force on the couch. she huffed and grabbed the remote, putting whatever show was on to distract herself. but to her surprise, her phone started ringing. which meant one thing. azzi finally saw her text.
paige side-eyed her phone for a second, contemplating if she should answer or give azzi the silent treatment back. but she gave up, she missed her girl’s voice way too much to act petty. so she swiped the answer button and stayed silent.
“hello p?” azzi called out, which didn’t earn a reply by paige. “baby? answer me please, i’m sorry.” azzi tried again, her voice coaxing apologetically. “oh now you wanna call me baby.” paige finally mumbled sarcastically, okay maybe she’s a bit petty, but hey azzi deserves it. “i know, i know, i messed up. i’m so sorry p but i swear i didn’t open my phone at all today, i just saw all your messages when i got back” azzi reasoned truthfully but the line was still quiet for a while.
“well you should’ve at least checked your phone to update me azzi, felt like i was talking to a ghost the whole day” paige finally sighed and gave in. “or text me you can’t reply for a while, i was worried.” the blonde added.
“i know… I’m sorry”
paige could imagine azzi’s pout from all the way here, even when she couldn’t see it. “it’s alright, what were you so busy doing anyways?” the blonde expressed, genuinely curious with what azzi was so occupied with to not get to pick up her phone all day long. i mean she knew azzi mentioned something with ads but like she needs details.
“oh it was—
azzi tried to reply but paige heard a distinct voice that sounded like kk, yea definitely kk. yelling in the background.
“fudd! are you ready yet?! we gotta go!”
paige could slightly hear azzi winced, probably because she hadn’t told paige where she was planning to go. “what? you’re going? you didn’t add anything to our calendar” paige knitted her eyebrows, very much confused.
“umm yea… i didn’t add it yet cause it was literally made less than an hour ago by kelis, kk and serah” azzi pointed out, voicing it out very slowly, almost carefully?
“okay, where are you guys going?”
“…”
“azzi.”
“…ted’s”
“ted’s.” okay now paige really furrowed. why were they going to their local bar on a random thursday night? i mean she doesn’t really care if the others did go to have fun but even when paige was there, azzi would always decline going to ted’s and she would only like it whenever paige was there with her. “you’re not going tho right? it’s just the others?”
azzi sighed through the line. “i’m going p, they said it was to celebrate the freshmens and the beginning of our season, i can’t just not go. plus i need to watch out for them since you know.. i’m the ‘oldest’ here now. ugh.. it’s still weird saying that”
“carol’s there.” paige quickly retorted.
“yeah, but i would be a bad friend and a bad senior if i didn’t come p”
“you’re lightweight.”
“i won’t be drunk, i won’t even drink! don’t worry.” azzi added. paige knew she was being dumb, azzi can go out whenever and wherever she wants, it’s not like azzi restricts her whenever she goes out. but she can’t help but to feel like this, her protective side always kicks in when it’s about azzi. and it’s not like paige didn’t trust her either, she knows azzi wouldn’t do anything stupid to hurt her or hurt her in general.
but this kinda did hurt her a bit, not about azzi going to ted’s with the team but more so spending her time without paige in it, it’s stupid. paige knows. but paige had decline a couple of her friends who invited her to hangout today just because she wanted to stay at home and facetime azzi all night instead. but clearly azzi doesn’t feel the same way. (paige is in her feels, of course azzi felt the same but she’s just too kind for her own good to decline her teammates especially her freshie kelis)
“ok go.” paige finally said. azzi who definitely didn’t like her tone, questioned obliviously “why are you mad?”
“what? i’m not.” paige who of course was mad, replied defensively. “yes you literally are paige.”
“just go azzi. they’re waiting.” paige who was already too tired to argue and too emotional to deal with all this, exhaled. azzi, who was still very much confused wanted to ask more but knowing she couldn’t cause she was already running late, uttered “okay, i’ll call you when i get back” instead.
“don’t. i’ll probably be asleep” paige who was now glassy eyed, stated. her voice strained.
“…i’ll still call just in case you’re not”
“ok do whatever you want, just go azzi.”
“and i’ll text you.”
“i’ll probably be ‘busy.’”
ok now that was a shitty move and paige knows it. she knew azzi was actually busy but she can’t help but to feel so infuriated, it slipped out of her mouth. her day sucked. she lost another game, her body fucking hurts and her girlfriend didn’t talk to her the whole day and now? azzi rather spend her time with everybody else in this world except for her. her lover. (she knows that’s not true)
so yea she was fucking fed up.
azzi’s line went silent, probably taken aback by the older’s words. “…okay, we’ll talk about this later” she settled, “i love you p.” azzi added, her words so genuine and so tender it made paige’s chest physically hurt.
“…”
paige exhaled a deep breath, gathering everything in her courage to not let her voice crack before whispering a very small, almost unaudiable.
“i love you too...”
azzi heard it.
and she ended the call.
then paige silently broke down.
4 hours later… (12:02 a.m)
paige rarely cries. she hates crying so much because it made her felt weak and delicate. and ever since she was little, she had learned to keep those emotions out and locked away. especially throughout her parents divorce. she learnt that she had to be the bigger person for both her parents and her siblings. she was unselfish, she always took care of drew when her dad and step-mom was busy, she never complained as much as the other kids her age would do to their parents. she just focused on basketball, mostly because it was her source of distraction, comfort and some sort of emotional stress relief. she thought basketball would always be the only thing that will ever understand her.
until azzi came into the picture…
fifteen year old azzi that was so shy she would barely speak at team usa hangouts. fifteen year old azzi that would pretend to be annoyed whenever paige bothered her. fifteen year old azzi that had the most sweetest dimpled smile that paige fell so hard into. fifteen year old azzi that made paige cry for the first time talking about her parents divorce and how she actually felt about it. fifteen year old azzi that cried with her, holding her with the warmest and softest embrace. fifteen year old azzi that made paige felt safe and seen for the first time.
so crying on her bed in the middle of the night after eating half a tub of ben&jerry’s ice cream definitely made her feel like shit. she tried to fall asleep at 11 but her mind decided it was a great idea to add onto all of her feels and rethink all her choices up to this second. you know when you start to think about one thing and ended up thinking about everything? yea that was what she was doing. her apartment felt too quiet and her mind wouldn’t stop circling.
azzi kept texting throughout the night, updating what she was doing. paige didn’t reply, she just read it through her notifications. she did text kk tho, asking her to take care of azzi and not to leave her out of sight. she didn’t reply not because she didn’t want to, but more because she was feeling too emotional to reply, she’s afraid she might say things she didn’t really mean. or maybe just because she felt a little bit tired—
—and needy…
she had felt tense for awhile now, but she didn’t really had time to— you know. with basketball, practice and stuff, plus azzi had been busy too. so she hadn’t really found a perfect timing to do it with her. she couldn’t even remember the last time she touched herself without azzi being there, helping her chase that addicting release that she always craved for. especially with azzi’s hands touching her bare skin, and her soft raspy voice whispering sweet praises that paige was such an absolute goner for. oh and don’t get her wrong, they’ve done a lot of phone sex these past months. just not really this month.
paige groaned softly, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling of her apartment, one arm draped over her eyes. she was in her boxers and one of azzi’s new uconn warm up t-shirts that she lowkey stole (but azzi stole hers a lot more, so fairs) stretched just enough to feel lived-in after a couple months, like it still held her. it smelled faintly like her too, or maybe paige was just imagining it. she hoped it was real.
she shifted, restless. no matter how hard she tried to distract herself, her mind kept drifting back to azzi. her laugh. her voice. the way she always knew when paige was spiraling before paige even admitted it herself. it was frustrating— annoying, even. how her body and heart seemed to only respond to one person (she loved it that way). paige squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on literally anything else. which didn’t work. all she could think about was azzi’s touch, the way she always grounded her, the way everything felt easier when azzi was there. when it was just paige alone, it didn’t feel the same. it never did.
she huffed out a quiet laugh, half-exasperated. “i’m pathetic.” she muttered to herself, even though she knew exactly why she felt like this. long distance sucked. and yeah, she was annoyed that azzi had been busy but deep down, she knew azzi didn’t really have a choice. team obligations were team obligations. still, paige curled onto her side, hugging the shirt closer like it might somehow make up for the distance. she missed her. not just physically but emotionally. the comfort, the familiarity.
she didn’t know when it happened, but suddenly she found herself pressing her hips down into the mattress, rocking them slowly back and forth…desperate for even the smallest hint of friction. it was absent minded at first— just a restless movement until it wasn’t.
paige let out a quiet, frustrated breath, biting down on her lip as she tried to chase the feeling. it was pointless. she knew it was. but her body didn’t seem to care, moving on instinct, searching for something it couldn’t quite find. “come on” she muttered under her breath, annoyed now. she shifted again, dragging her legs closer, pressing harder this time, hoping it would be enough. it wasn’t. it never was. not without azzi. not without her hands, her guidance, her voice telling paige exactly how to move, exactly what she needed. a soft, broken sound slipped past her lips before she could stop it.
“azzi…” she breathed, barely louder than a whisper, like saying her name might summon her out of thin air. the sound of it made her chest tighten instead of easing anything. paige’s breath hitched, emotion rushing in fast and overwhelming. she groaned softly and dropped her forehead against her arm, shoulders trembling as the frustration tipped into something heavier.
“this is so dumb.” she whispered, but her voice cracked now. she wasn’t really mad at azzi she knew better than that. azzi was always there for her, always one call away, always steady and reassuring. but knowing that didn’t stop the ache of not being able to reach out and touch her. not being able to feel her the way paige needed right now. her hips stilled completely as the craving sharpened, turning hollow and overwhelming. tears pricked at her eyes, one slipping free as she squeezed them shut, overwhelmed by how pent up she felt, how badly she missed her. paige rolled onto her back with a shaky breath, staring up at the ceiling through blurry vision. she wiped at her face angrily, frustrated with herself for getting this worked up.
she felt bratty now. pouty. needy in a way that made her chest ache. her fingers twisted into the fabric of azzi’s shirt, clutching it close like it might bridge the distance between them. “i just miss you.” she murmured softly, voice breaking again.
and that was when she finally reached for her phone.
paige opened her chatroom with azzi and just stared at it. no typing. no scrolling. just az 💗 contact’s name at the top of the screen, glowing softly in the dark. her thumb hovered uselessly over the keyboard before dropping back down. she didn’t know what she’d even say. before she could think too hard about it, her phone started ringing.
incoming call from az💗…
paige froze. she almost didn’t answer. almost let it ring out just to prove a point. but she didn’t have it in her to ignore her, not really. with a quiet breath, she swiped to answer and brought the phone to her ear.
“p?” azzi’s voice came through, surprised and cautious. “you actually picked up.” paige stayed quiet. “okay” azzi continued softly. “so… i’m guessing you’re still mad at me.”
silence.
“hey” azzi said quickly, more serious now. “i’m really sorry, okay? i didn’t mean to upset you. i swear i would’ve stayed in if i could’ve. i just— i didn’t have much of a choice tonight.” paige swallowed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “p, you know i hate when we’re like this” azzi said gently. “and i know you were already having a long day. i should’ve checked in better. that’s on me.” still, paige didn’t say anything.
“i hate that i left you feeling like that” azzi went on. “especially knowing how hard this whole long distance thing already is for you… for us. i never want you to feel like you’re not my first choice, because you are. always.”
the pause stretched.
“…baby?” azzi asked, voice softening. “you’re being really quiet.” paige’s breath hitched, barely noticeable, but azzi caught it anyway. “hey.” azzi said, instantly alert. “what’s wrong?”
“nothing.” paige finally murmured, voice small.
“mm” azzi hummed. “that didn’t sound like nothing.” another pause. then azzi spoke again, carefully. “can i facetime you?”
paige tensed immediately. “no.”
“p.”
“azzi” paige said, weakly defensive. “i’m fine. i don’t wanna.”
azzi sighed, not annoyed—just gentle. “please? i just wanna see your face.” paige hesitated. she shouldn’t. she knew that. but she wanted to see azzi too. wanted that tiny bit of closeness, even through a screen.
“…okay” she whispered.
the call switched to facetime.
the moment azzi’s face appeared, paige looked away.“p” azzi said softly. “look at me.” paige didn’t want to. but she did anyway. azzi’s expression shifted instantly when she saw her— red eyes, glassy, lashes clumped just slightly like she’d been crying. her shoulders relaxed, posture melting into concern.
“oh… baby” azzi murmured. “you’ve been crying.”paige shook her head, even as her throat tightened.“hey” azzi said, calm and steady. “it’s okay. you don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”
paige pressed her lips together, nodding once. she listened as azzi talked— soft apologies, reassurance, reminding her she was loved, that her feelings made sense, that missing someone didn’t make her weak or dramatic. “you’re allowed to need me p” azzi said quietly. “distance doesn’t change that.” paige’s eyes burned again. she wiped at them silently, listening, letting azzi’s voice wrap around her like it always did.
after a while, azzi smiled softly. “i’m home now” she added. “just got back from ted’s.” paige nodded, still quiet. azzi tilted her head slightly, noticing something, studying her. “…you’re needy.”
paige’s face heated instantly. “i am not.” azzi smiled warm, fond, knowing. “you are baby, and that’s okay.” paige looked away again, embarrassed.
“hey” azzi said gently. “i can help, if you want?” she offered. “no” paige said quickly. shy. hesitant. “it’s fine.” azzi didn’t push. she just softened her voice, said paige’s name slowly, told her she was good, that she was safe, that she deserved to feel taken care of.
and paige melted.
she shifted slightly against the bed, breathing uneven now, eyes fixed on azzi’s face as she listened. she didn’t say anything— just nodded faintly, trusting her, letting azzi guide her the way she always did. azzi’s voice stayed low and steady, like an anchor paige didn’t even realize she was clinging to. “slow down baby” azzi murmured softly. “you don’t have to rush, p. just… listen to your body.” paige swallowed, breath uneven as she shifted against the sheets. her hands hesitated for a second, hovering uselessly before finally moving again, tentative and unsure. she felt shy all of a sudden, heat crawling up her neck as she glanced back at the screen.
“i’m here.” azzi reassured immediately, like she could sense it. “you’re okay. just do what feels right.” paige nodded faintly, eyes never leaving azzi’s face as she followed her voice. every quiet instruction made her chest tighten— not with pressure, but with how cared for she felt. how seen. “that’s it” azzi said gently. “just like that. you’re doing so good for me baby.”
paige let out a shaky breath, shoulders relaxing as she settled into the rhythm azzi was guiding her through. she moved slowly, listening, reacting, letting herself feel instead of overthinking. her lips parted on a soft sound she didn’t even realize she made. “azz…” she whispered, needy and embarrassed all at once. “can you— can you do it with me?”
azzi smiled, soft and fond, shaking her head slightly. “hey. not tonight. tonight’s about you.” that made paige’s breath hitch. “i just wanna take care of you p” azzi continued quietly. “let you feel good. you deserve that.” paige nodded again, cheeks burning as she followed azzi’s voice, every word making her feel spoiled and cherished. the tension she’d been carrying all night slowly unraveled, replaced by warmth and something gentler.
when it was over, paige stayed still for a moment, breathing slowly, phone warm in her hand. azzi watched her carefully. “you feeling a little better now?” “yeah…” paige murmured, sleepy and soft. “a lot better.”
her eyes fluttered as exhaustion finally pulled her under. she curled onto her side, clutching the phone close. “az?” she whispered, voice barely there. which azzi replied with a light “hmm?”
“I forgive you… but please… don’t do it again.” azzi’s expression softened completely. “i promise baby” she said without hesitation. “never again.”
“i love you paige, so much.”
paige smiled faintly, eyes closing. “i love you too...” and with azzi still there, watching over her, paige finally drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
06:26 a.m (Miami.)
January, unrivaled season.
9 months in.
“yo! p-breezy mornin” one of the studbudz, natisha hiedeman greeted as she walked inside the weight room. it was early, way too early for lifts. so paige was kinda hoping it would be a bit empty, but to her surprise a few players had already started before she came in. “what’s up” paige gave a nod as she finally finished her bench press. pulling her arms out to place the weights back into place.
she looked around and noticed how no one was on aux yet, so she decided to play hers, she scrolled on a couple of her playlists before deciding on a simple chill rnb vibe. after clicking shuffle, she made her way to one of the pulldown machines and did her normal repetition (it was different from her previous ones since she was very much committed to build muscle now, and by the comments on unrivaled’s media tiktok, it seems like it’s working.)
the room started to get more crowded as time went on, other players were now humming to her playlist, clearly satisfied with paige’s taste and choice of the day. paige just had to do lunges left before she was done (absolute dread). ‘when i see you’ by fantasia came on and paige couldn’t help but to suppress a small smile thinking about a certain brunette in connenicut.
i put your picture on my mirror
so i could blush when ever someone say your name
paige could hear niya (saniya rivers) yelling in the background “oh this is my song!” and started to sing (or at least attempted to) out the lyrics loudly.
your always on my mind
when you come around i get shy
baby when i see you, see you , when i see you.
paige mind kept drifting back to azzi, cause of course, when is she not thinking about azzi? she grinned about the christmas they recently spent together, how shy she was when azzi complimented on how big she had grown these past months without seeing each other (she definitely did it all for azzi, well mostly.) and how shy azzi was when they were bare against each other, making up for all the time they had lost, trying to be quiet as possible while their families were right outside. paige wanted to engraved the younger’s reaction when she stood topless in front of her for the first time after horrendous months of not seeing each other, the look that azzi made— fuck. she was so needy for paige. paige wanted to unravel her right there and then. which she did.
i see your face when i hear my favorite song
should i send an e-mail at home
your the number one topic on the phone
i wonder if you know, or do you have a clue yeah ?
paige mumbled the lyrics to the song as she finished her last set. niya was singing to the unrivaled’s media phone, probably for one of their team updates. she looked around the room and side-eyed her breeze admin, who was secretly filming her and the other breeze members. the others might forget but she certainly won’t, she still remembered how people were going after her for ‘losing’ her rhythm which she never lost by the way. she just couldn’t hear the music, and every dawg has their days— so chill on her.
she greeted a few other players before walking straight to the recovery room, she saw azura there making tiktoks with rickea. “kea that move ain’t it and lettuce (cause azura’s team jersey looked like ‘lettuce’ according to paige & rickea) you ain’t doing any better” she deadpanned and grinned mischievously before sitting on one of the long black chairs, patiently waiting for her sore muscles to be assisted while the workers were busy with all the other players. “okay first of all you have no right to say that after your fans tore you down with that rhythm of yours.” rickea rolled her eyes and azura adding on “and barney is not any better bro” before they resumed back to their tiktok, considering paige as a wind that just flew by.
paige chuckled, happily achieving her goal by annoying someone today. tho her grin instantly went bigger when she got a text from her girl.
06:50 Az 💗 : *attached picture* (her after morning practice)
06:50 Az 💗 : gonna grab breakfast in the dining hall now 🤤
06:51 Az 💗 : you can’t watch the game today ☹️?
she smiled at the selfie azzi had sent with her tongue out (apparently mocking paige cause she hasn’t finished her morning practice yet) looking very much excited for breakfast, she looked sweaty but still pretty as ever. today uconn had a game against no. 23 notre dame which was kinda (somewhat) a big game, and breeze were up against the mist a bit after, paige will try to tune in if she can, but regardless this is nothing for azzi and her team so she wasn’t worried at all.
06:52 You : my game starts a bit after yours baby, but I’ll try my best to watch, the others kinda wanted to watch today too
Az 💗 typing…
06:54 Az 💗 : specify “others” 🤨
06:54 You : cam, kea, phee, stewie, phee? i think.
06:55 Az 💗 : phee?! okay i gotta ball out 😛
06:55 You : ur more excited for phee to watch u than ur girl? 😑
06:55 Az 💗 : well duh.
06:55 Az 💗 : it’s phee.
06:56 You : wow okay noted. phee officially ranked above me 😒
06:57 Az 💗 : you’re so dramatic.
06:57 You : no i get how it is, crazy how phee gets priority access
06:57 You : i thought i was special az.
06:58 Az 💗 : 🙄
06:58 Az 💗 : dramatic for nothing, 7.am hasn’t even started paige
06:59 You : can’t. cause i’ve apparently been replaced 💔
06:59 Az 💗 : see this is why i cant miss you peacefully 🥱
06:59 You : aww you miss me? i’m honored az 😚
06:59 Az 💗 : that was not what i meant, idiot.
07:00 You : your idiot.
“paige is smiling like an idiot on her phone again!” rickea yelled loud enough for the entire recovery room to hear. paige glanced at kea with the ‘did you really have to say that out loud?’ face. her lips going into a thin line— which rickea immediately answered with a smug, sarcastic smile that clearly said ‘of course i did, you do it to me all the time.’
she sighed, lips tugging into that soft smile as she finally lifted her head. “why are you yelling bro” she said squinting as in like ‘seriously’, like this wasn’t the first—or tenth time this had happened. rickea grinned wider. “because it’s funny. you look like a giddy teenager happy and in love”
“i am happy.” paige replied easily, thumbs still tapping away. “and in love.” she then added. cameron leaned back on her elbows, watching her for a second. “you only smile like that when you’re texting azzi” she specified as she sing-songed azzi’s name. paige paused mid text. her ears warmed slightly as she cleared her throat. “yeah” she admitted, “she just sent me something.” azura grimaced. “called it! and yuck… people in love” paige shrugged, still not looking up. “it’s not like i’m hiding it, and you’re just jealous bro”
“oh, trust me. we know.” azura called out, eyebrows lifting knowingly. “you never stop talking about her, it honestly gets to a point.” paige smiled sheepishly, a little shy now as she ducked her head. “okay, but you didn’t have to announce it to the entire room, rickea.” rickea didn’t miss a beat. “well maybe if you stop doing that to me and my man, i’ll stop. plus, you’re like ten times more down bad for azzi than i am for mine” she said flatly.
“okay, i am not that down bad—”
before paige could even finish, the room erupted. players, unrivaled staff— even colleen, one of azzi’s closest friends from connecticut who now works for unrivaled— all chimed in at once:
“you are, paige.”
paige blinked, momentarily caught off guard, then sighed with a small laugh. “okay, okay. sheesh. my bad.”
they stopped by the dining hall right after morning practice, still sweaty, grabbing whatever they could before heading back to get ready for the game later. paige shuffled along the line in her slides, hair a mess, shoulders sore. rickea came to a full stop when she spotted it, pointing like she’d just found something offensive. “nah. what is that.” azura leaned in, squinting. “is that cottage cheese?” cam immediately wrinkled her nose. “that’s nasty.” azura made a face. “who eats that on purpose?”
paige glanced over, nose scrunching on instinct. “yeah, no. that’s gross.” there was a brief pause— and then, without thinking, she added, “but azzi loves it.” the line went quiet. rickea turned slowly. “of course she does.” paige froze for half a second, then kept going like she hadn’t just exposed herself. “she eats it with everything too. toast, fruit, eggs especially eggs— i’ve literally seen her eat it straight out of the container. it’s actually disgusting.” she shook her head, clearly appalled, except her mouth was doing that soft, fond smile and her eyes had that unmistakable giddy look.
“she’ll be like, ‘paige, it’s protein.’” paige continued, rolling her eyes as she mimicked azzi’s voice. “and i’m like, that does not make it okay to eat stinky feet.” rickea stared at her. cam stared. azura blinked once. “you’re smiling” azura pointed out. paige stopped mid rant frowning. “i am not.” rickea raised an eyebrow. “you just said azzi’s disgusting with heart eyes.” paige huffed, grabbing her food. “i can’t help it. she’s weird.” cam smiled. “you’re down bad.” paige muttered, still defensive, “she literally puts it on avocado toast.” rickea laughed. “you’re two sentences away from saying you’d try it for her.” paige didn’t answer, just shrugged, cheeks warm, lips twitching like she already knew she would. if azzi asked her to.
the uconn game was already on when they gathered in one of the unrivaled facilities that afternoon, bags dropped in corners and warmups half-on as everyone got ready for their own game. the screen pulled paige’s attention immediately. paige drifted closer without realizing it, arms folding as she leaned against the wall, that quiet, focused look settling in. everyone knew that look.
on the screen, blanca missed a three point jumper. azzi crashed in from the wing, grabbed the rebound clean, pushed it out herself, then crossed over hard. hannah shifted late. azzi drove straight through the lane, took the contact, and finished anyway. whistle. and-one. phee let out a low “that’s tough.” stewie nodded in approval, and cam laughed softly. paige’s lips twitched despite herself, pride clear even if she didn’t say anything.
azzi knocked down the free throw and went right back to work, staying locked in on defense, forcing tough shots, never rushing. “damn she’s locking hildago down. 0 from 6? wow.” rickea whistled. paige finally spoke, quiet but sure. “she’s always locking everyone down” cam glanced at her and smiled softly. “you miss playing with her.” paige halted for a second and nodded once. “yeah.”
someone called their warm up time, pulling them back. paige straightened and took one last look at the screen. azzi jogging back on defense, steady and composed— before turning to her team. “alright.” she said, switching gears. “our turn.”
uconn was going for a blow out, so she’ll make sure the breeze did the same.
12:48 a.m
it was almost one in the morning when paige finally settled into bed, phone propped against her pillow as azzi’s face filled the screen. azzi was back in her dorm, hoodie on, hair messy, clearly exhausted but smiling anyway. “we both won” azzi said simply, paige nodded. “yeah. good day.” they talked about the games like they always did— little things, missed reads, plays that felt good, nothing heavy. paige mentioned rickea and azura giving her a hard time all afternoon, and azzi laughed, saying she wasn’t surprised. “i’m not hiding anything” paige said, a little shy even now. “i just get shy when people bring you up.” azzi smiled softly with that knowing look. “i know. you always have.”
at some point the conversation drifted, slower now, and paige noticed the cross chain resting against azzi’s collarbone. the one she gave to her on christmas. “you wear it?” she said. azzi touched it without thinking and nodded softly “every day.” it pulled paige back to christmas they spent privately in virginia. just azzi and both of their families. and them stealing time upstairs, curled up and untouched by everything outside. paige remembered giving azzi the necklace like it wasn’t a big deal, and azzi immediately putting it on like it was. “that was a really nice christmas” paige said, azzi hummed and whispered “yeah. it really was.”
they talked about the months ahead the same way not as something scary, just something to get through. four months. april. azzi mentioned the draft casually, wondering out loud what would happen if dallas wasn’t in the picture. paige didn’t hesitate. “then we’ll still be fine.” she said unwaveringly. “distance isn’t fun, but we’ll get through it.” azzi looked at paige for a second, almost like she was searching something against paige’s reflection that showed nothing but honesty and certainty. then she took a breath of relief. like that was all the reassurance she needed. paige was all she needed.
they stayed on facetime until paige’s voice softened and her eyes started to close, azzi filling the quiet with nothing important just enough to keep her company. distance was hard, sure. but it had never been something they were afraid of. because no matter where they were, they always circled back to each other. always waiting. always choosing. and that had never felt uncertain for both paige and azzi.
in four more months. they’ll share the court again. either as teammates or rivals, it didn’t matter. at the end of the day, they were still each other’s.
summary: collegiate sport had a way of dragging two star prospects, a shutdown pitcher and an airtight catcher, into each other’s stratosphere. together, they had survived busted toilets, brutal training days, and national championships. but after paige sent a teammate to the hospital, concussed on a stretcher, the natural chemistry between them shifted, and suddenly the idea of making it back home no longer felt easy to reach.
tags: major jealousy, pazzi being #1 in their chosen sport wbk, down bad!paige x perfect!azzi also wbk, contributing to the wlw softball stereotype sorry not sorry, paige just internally crashes out the entire way, angst, getting together; wc: 20.8k
notes: forcing you guys to insert pazzi into a random aspects from my life once again.
r/softball
AITA for sending my teammate to the hospital?
Submitted December 15th, 2022 by u/catchermyballsac5
Let’s get one thing straight, okay. It was an accident.
Yes, I [21F] like to talk a little smack on the field. I must admit, I sometimes dabble in an unserious, non-authorized MMA-style wrestling type thing with my roommates. And sure, my dream is to hit fast spinning balls with a metal bat as hard as I can for a living. But, I swear, I’m really not a violent person. However, after a recent incident, my best friend [20F] is convinced I need to see someone for anger management and I’m about to lose my everloving mind.
For context, let’s call my best friend ‘A’. A’s been my best friend for over two years, and we’re both D1 athletes on the same team. She’s our pitcher, and I’m the catcher, and if you know anything about softball, that basically means we’re attached at the hip. We do everything together.
Yesterday in practice, instead of setting up cones with me like usual, A was off chatting and laughing with one of the new girls on the team. This is the same girl A told me I’d “really like” if I ever got to know her. Whatever. Fine. I partnered up with new girl for warmups.
We were doing that drill where partners throw a ball to each other at the same time and both have to catch. Everything was going fine, until one rep when I threw the ball and this girl just… stopped. Like fully stopped, because she wanted to talk to A again. You literally cannot stop halfway through that drill.
My ball hit her straight in the head. An ambulance ended up taking her to the hospital.
I know it’s awful, but also, you don’t just stop to chat halfway mid-drill?
So here’s where I’m struggling. Instead of understanding that this was a freak accident, A has dropped completely everything for this girl. She rode with her in the ambulance. She’s cooked meals and brought them to hospital. She spends hours there filling her in on what happened during practice. Which, sure, that’s nice. But a minor bump to the head shouldn’t mean she suddenly doesn’t have time for me. We even had to reschedule our movie night because the girl was getting out of surgery.
Now everyone on the team keeps joking about how I’m “dangerous”, which feels dramatic. It’s not even that serious, and it’s not like I beaned her on purpose. Most of all, I really don’t think this situation warrants A acting like this girl is her new dependent.
AITA for being upset about this?
TL;DR: I accidentally hit a teammate in the head so hard she had to go to hospital. Now my best friend keeps bailing on me to take care of her and I’m feeling like I’m about to rip my brains out.
Before she was ever interested in girls, or hunted down age records, or chased national championships, Paige’s first love was T-ball.
As a kid, she spent entire afternoons after school with a bucket of whiffle balls, hitting in her backyard until the moon pushed away the sun. She quickly got relocated to the bigger field after putting one too many dents in her dad’s metal fence, and immediately made the A team on her first tryout. With that swing, home runs were more of a guarantee rather than a lucky shot.
When it came to fielding, no specific position called her name straight away. At first, her school coach placed her in the outfield. Her arm was strong, and her aim wasn’t bad at all, so it all made sense on paper. But definitely not in practice.
Like in all typical younger leagues, the ball barely got hit past the pitching mound. So Paige spent most innings mucking around, dragging her co-outfielders into conversations, and doing pretty much anything but field the ball. So even for that one time it would miraculously fly their way, her teammates were always too distracted and laughing on their bellies while Paige was halfway through telling a story.
Understandably, she got moved to third base next. Still to this day, Paige refused to the moon and back that it had anything to do with her stirring up trouble in the outfield. The previous girl who manned third base got directly smacked with a hard hitter and Paige was the only one not too afraid when the coach asked who’d step in. So, honestly, it probably did come out mostly of necessity.
Third base was… okay. She wasn’t scared of being stuck in front of fast spinning balls, and her arm strength ensured she could jet them back home without any trouble. But the same problem persisted. Because of her fast shooting and sniper aim, players barely made it onto third base. In other words, the occurrence of her babysitting a runner in her territory was pretty low, which meant long stretches of standing around with nothing to do. And Paige, left to her own devices, was still the same distracting menace that coaches had yet to find an answer for.
The final straw came when she had, God knows how, managed to distract their second basemen into walking over mid pitch just to have a chat.
“Alright. I’ve had enough,” her coach barked. “You’re getting moved.”
So that was how Paige ended up here. Directly behind the plate, sweating balls in this heavy ass catcher’s vest, knee pads and helmet (like surely this was overkill at this point). And yes, her coach made her run those torturous field laps in full gear while the rest of her team laughed about their weekend in the warmdown circle. If her coach’s kids were cursed into the next century, that was not her fault.
Every day, for two straight weeks, she would complain all throughout practice to anyone who’d listen.
“Bro, I’m literally about to throw up in here. You’re gonna have to clean it up.”
“Hey, fuckface! You look big enough to be a catcher. Get over here!”
But despite her insistent nagging and constant protests, it certainly didn’t help her case that she was completely, and utterly, a natural.
She guarded the home plate vigilantly, squat in a low crouch to resemble a doberman in her all-black gear. From the top of the diamond, her arm revealed itself to be an explosive cannon when it came to stopping runners before first. And don’t even think about stealing– one too many teams learnt that the hard way.
And as she grew older, Paige developed her most unique, untraditional skill that separated her from every other catcher in the country scouts watched: her charisma.
Every game was governed by the umpire, who shadowed the diamond from the tip and wielded the power of every call with their fist. Paige caught on early that in close match-ups, the difference between a ball and a strike came down to millimetres, and power wasn’t always the right answer to pressure. During short pauses, when batters walked up and the dust settled, she chatted. She learned names and asked about kids she’d never met. She remembered when little Johnny had a pickup game last weekend and coined nicknames that stuck. And while it didn’t work every time, it worked when it mattered.
With the bases loaded and only one run left for the win, when it came time for #5 to bat, the umpire didn’t just see another player stepping up. It was Paige; the catcher who listened, joked, and made the their long hours behind the plate feel shorter. And when the pitch dipped low, brushing her knees, and maybe just catching the edge of the zone, luck had a way of nudging the call in her favour.
The opposition never quite understood how. Had they known, some might have called it dirty. But scouts from the University of Connecticut didn’t care. As long as she was on their side of the diamond.
Top comments
u/ballrider333
Definitely YTA. Maybe not for the accident part, but for making this situation about you… your teammate literally went to hospital.
u/softballdaddy67
INFO: I’m wondering why you seem to be more upset about the movie thing than about someone needing surgery!?!?
u/justiceforoutfielders
Half YTA. Yeah, you know, I totally get it. Accidents happen. But this is sounding like you’re jealous, not concerned.
u/baserunner15
Hello?? “not even that serious” Why do you keep downplaying the head injury?? Ummm ?
Azzi’s parents signed her up for T-ball at the ripe age of four years old. But honestly, hitting a stationary ball with a metal bat over and over again ranked last on her list of preferred ways to spend an afternoon.
But by the time she advanced into proper softball, the new element of the game had somehow translated her stubborn reluctance into passion. At fourteen, her name was already making rounds around the country, passed between coaches and scouts as the star pitcher on the rise, with a viscous fastball that felt unfair to bat against.
For a typical audience, softball appeared simple enough when viewed from the stands. The batter hit the ball, they ran the bases, and tried to make it home. Win.
But Azzi comprehended the game differently, and at a much, much smaller scale; one that she’d separated down into moments so precise they bordered on obsessive. Everything began with the exact pressure of her fingers gripping the red seams, aligning them with careful precision. The ritual came from superstition and routine more so than mechanical technique. The ball disappeared behind her glove next, so as to conceal the pitch she would soon unleash. Then came reading the batter. Right or left-handed? Tall or short? Was this just another name in the lineup, or the one she needed to break. Then finally: the pitch.
When she combined all those pieces together, they collapsed neatly into a single, decisive outcome.
Strike!
Azzi had spent hours at the back of her house rewinding her pitch again and again, until the battered target could no longer hold itself upright. Hours became weeks, then weeks became years. Every fundamental was locked in. Every step was practiced until it became instinct. No scout could find another pitcher with a windup so powerful, a drive as fluid, or an acceleration that snapped the ball forward with such violence that made it nearly impossible to bat.
One particular afternoon in her senior year, her high school came head to head with the second-ranked team in her district. The opposition spent all morning brazenly trash talking about how exactly they planned to thrash them in the finals. But Azzi didn’t need to respond. Her game could do all the talking.
By the second inning, parents in the bleachers were calling for age checks, drug tests, or anything that could possibly explain their kids getting their asses so badly handed to them. Even when a batter managed contact, the ball spun off with such a perfect angle that it bounced directly to first base or whipped straight back into Azzi’s glove like a boomerang. The game ended almost as soon as it began. She walked away with zero free balls, zero walks, and a trophy clutched tight to her chest.
A certain coach watched it all go down from the stands. A blue cap casted a shadow over his eyes, but nothing could obscure the complete belt to ass hand delivered by #35, who didn’t let the pressure up off the opposition’s neck for a second. When the two teams climbed back onto their buses, only one school rode home laughing.
But there, underneath all that dominance, was where her one flaw crept in; a crevice where she sometimes, albeit rarely, floundered. To dominate the mound, a pitcher required three things. Azzi had the first two, game IQ and flawless technique, in spades. Unfortunately, the third, the mental game, was an entirely different beast.
The pitcher's mound was an unassuming thing: a dirt circle with a white rubber plate just off its center. But Azzi felt it for what it really was. A pressure cooker.
A softball game lasted seven innings. That meant seven rounds of landing the right pitch; seven opportunities to control the diamond. In those long games, any pitcher knew that sometimes the ball just wouldn’t cooperate with your intentions, and that was okay. When something went wrong, you brushed it off as a calculated loss. Reset. You adjusted your cap, tapped your knee once, and left the mistake in the past where it belonged.
And she understood the concept well enough. But that was just all theory.
Once a pitch didn’t spin the way she needed, or one batter didn’t stumble the way she expected, her momentum was washed.
She let the pressure rip through her chest. She lay down and allowed the sting of failure to throb in every movement. In those rare moments the ball felt like stone in her hand. Azzi was a girl who chased perfection with everything she had, but once it slipped from her grasp, she didn’t yet know how to get it back.
op replies
u/catchermyballsac5
GUYS first up, I am concerned okay? I obviously didn’t want it to happen. I’m only trying to say I don’t get why A is acting like this is all her responsibility now
u/catchermyballsac5
no just to clarify, I’m not mad at the girl. Just confused as to why A hasn’t checked in with me at all.
u/catchermyballsac5
Yo the accounts saying I’m jealous are kind of missing the entire point?? Explain how it makes sense to abandon your best friend over a tiny accident. She’s out of hospital now, it’s fine
u/catchermyballsac5 (later edit)
Okayyy wow. Didn’t expect this many responses!! Might talk to A tonight. Please stop private messaging me saying I’m in love with her. That’s ridiculous.
“Paige? There’s a man at the door here to see you.” Her mum’s voice muffled its way up the stairs to where Paige was gaming in her bedroom.
She recognised who it was the second she stepped into the dining room. Anyone with even the slightest interest in her sport knew the square set of this jaw and the steely eyes of the man who led teams to countless victories and sat through millions of conference interviews.
Geno Auriemma sat at her dining table like he commanded the room. He sped through pleasantries and introductions before swiftly digging into the meat.
“Lots of players want to be in this position,” he said, while raising his hand. “There’s good.”
His palm lifted to indicate each level. “Then there’s special.” Higher still.
He paused, then raised it once more to signify a new benchmark altogether. “Your daughter is gifted. Most players are lucky to have one or two tools. But Paige has the power, speed, and the arm.” His gaze flicked over her quickly. “Hm, maybe not the look.”
“What’s wrong with my look?” Paige questioned before she could stop herself.
“You’re small for a catcher,” he said after appraising her once more. “Everyone at this level is going to be faster. Stronger. Your size is going to be a problem up in the big leagues.”
Over his years of recruiting, that harsh truth had afforded Geno every possible response in the book. Some kids raced to reassure it wouldn’t matter. Others listed credentials or insisted they’d been playing their whole life, so they shouldn’t change what wasn’t broke. Some even went as far as to turn it back on him, as if insulting the head coach’s appearance might earn them a spot in the lineup. But Paige’s answer was exactly what he wanted to hear.
“I’ll work on it, sir.”
“Yes, you will,” he nodded, before standing up to leave. At the door, he shook her mum’s hand, then hers.
“I’m confident about what we’re building in UConn, Paige. With you, we’ve secured the top two recruits from my list. I’m curious to see how you will gel together.”
“Together with who?”
Geno, unforthcoming as ever, gave nothing away.
“You’ll see.
They had heard about each other long before they’d ever met. The softball world was far too small to have not. Whispers travelled fast about the pitcher from Virginia who closed more games involving shutdown innings than not, and of a curveball that sent batters crying off the field before they even settled into the box.
There were just as many stories about the catcher from Minnesota, the one who stared down lineups full of the fastest runners and the heaviest hitters, then sent each player trudging back to their dugout after rendering them into nothing.
But it took leaving their hometowns for their paths to finally cross.
Paige was stuck pondering in a gas station aisle when her dad slid up beside her, holding out a protein bar for her approval.
“How about this one?” he asked. The fourth time in the past three minutes.
She took one look at it and almost gagged at the sight. “Yuck, no. Quests are the worst, seriously. The texture alone is criminal.” She pulled a sour face at the memory of the chalky feeling and rancid aftertaste. “And the macros are trash anyways.”
“Alright, alright!” he responded, lifting his hands in surrender. “I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll be waiting in the car.”
He turned around and walked out, which left Paige to stare hopelessly at the overwhelming wall of colourful packaging, each bar printed with different numbers that after Geno’s visit, felt more important. While none of them particularly excited her, over these past few months she’d developed a fixation on getting bigger before college. She wanted to show up to day one of training camp and make it clear she was committed to showing up and giving it her all. So committed in fact, that she was individually counting every gram of protein, fat and carbohydrate entering her body.
Her go-to brand, Kind Protein, wasn’t stocked, and it was growing more and more difficult to find an alternative. She really craved something sweet, but most of the options looked artificial enough to make her stomach wheezy.
“Sorry, could I just grab-” A voice cut through Paige’s focus and its owner leaned in to pick up a bar near her foot.
“Oh- yeah. Sorry, my bad,” Paige apologised, stepping back to avoid stomping on the girl.
“It’s fine! Really,” the girl, who appeared to be around her age, insisted easily, then waved her item with a shy smile. “Just really wanted this.”
Paige couldn’t help but notice how smooth and feather-light her tone sounded. For half a second, she wondered if it would be weird to ask this stranger to record a podcast so she could fall asleep to the pretty cadence of her voice. But then she realised she was definitely being weird and decided to ask her if the bar she chose was any good.
“Not bad for twelve grams of protein,” the girl shrugged. “I usually go for Kind Protein, but I don’t think this place sells them.”
“Wait, me too!” Paige pulled a surprised smile at having found a common interest with this stranger with a pretty voice.
“Really?” The girl seemed pleased. “Then yeah, these are probably the most similar. Were you trying to buy?”
“I guess,” Paige nodded. She reached down and picked up the same bar. “But honestly, I’m dying for something properly sweet that isn’t a birthday cake protein stick.”
The girl squinted slightly, like she was scrolling through a catalogue of options in her head. When one finally clicked, her eyes lit up.
“Have you ever tried Tru Fru?”
“Is that a cereal?” Paige guessed.
The stranger laughed. “No! It’s only like… the best thing ever. Total lifesaver when I’m on a cut. Come over here.”
She headed for the freezer section without waiting, and Paige followed without hesitation. She noticed, distantly, how easily she fell into step beside her, like a dog on a leash. She realised how even within minutes of meeting her, she’d probably follow this girl anywhere if asked. God why did she get so down bad for pretty girls? It was actually kind of a problem.
The girl opened the freezer door and pulled out a blue bag printed with pictures of chocolate covered fruit.
“Wait, they’re on sale!” She exclaimed. She pointed to a sticker on the glass before reading the words outloud. “Buy one, get one free.”
“I guess it’s fate.” The words left Paige’s mouth before she properly checked them over. For a moment, she braced for the awkward pause that might follow after calling this random interaction something as intimate as ‘fate’. She was ready to laugh it off as a joke when the girl replied.
“Definitely. This means you can try more flavours!”
They walked to the counter together. On the way, Paige stole everything from the girl’s hands and popped them all on the counter along with her protein bar. She then tapped her card before her new friend could object.
“Wait. I thought we were going to split?”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. You can pay me back if it’s shit.”
“You’re doubting me?” the girl volleyed back, amused as she picked up one of the shopping bags.
The two of them exited the shop and sat on a bench near the entrance. Paige ripped the bag open immediately and very quickly realised that these Tru-Fru snacks were extremely dangerous after the first bite. Her eyes widened at how good the strawberries were and almost moaned when she tried the blueberries. She wanted to devour the entire packet in one sitting.
Out the corner of her eye, she spotted her dad waiting in the car, and only then remembered she had someone waiting for her. She fully considered telling him to leave her there so she could get to know this girl all afternoon, but then realised campus was still pretty far away, and walking there wasn’t in the cards.
“Shit, I should go. My dad-”
“Don’t worry about it! I probably have to head as well. Still have to unpack my dorm,” the girl replied.
Dorm?
“You studying around here?” Paige investigated, or more accurately, fished for scraps of information.
“Mhm,” she nodded, swallowing a piece of strawberry before speaking again. “University of Connecticut.”
Paige’s face lit up as if she’d just won an away game. “No way! Me too! What are the chances?”
“Then I guess it really is fate,” she laughed, calling both of their memories to when Paige used that same word just minutes ago,
“Must be,” Paige agreed. She sealed the snacks and packed them into the girl’s plastic shopping bag. “You take these home.”
“What? No, you paid for them!” she refused.
But Paige had no plans on budging and quickly conjured up a plan.
“Okay, let’s do it this way then,” she readied herself to present a new deal to the bench. “You take both bags home,” she held up her hands to stop the girl from interrupting, “and if I see you on campus, we finish them together from your freezer.”
The stranger paused hesitantly while attempting to wrap her head around the rules and what possible rewards Paige could’ve gotten out of this. “I don’t see how this benefits you.”
“Trust me,” Paige pressed on. “It’s an equal trade, promise.”
“I sincerely doubt that… but fine. It’s a small campus anyways, so our chances should be pretty high.”
Paige grinned in triumph having persuaded her to take the bait. “Besides, we have that whole ‘fate’ thing going on too, right?”
“Right,” the girl laughed before they both stood and said their goodbyes.
It was only until Paige slid back into her dads car that she realised she’d made it through the entire interaction without ever asking the girl’s name. Her mood dropped half a level, but she recovered just as quickly.
She had a funny feeling that fate was really on her side.
Paige used to think freshman year was the happiest she could ever be. If it wasn’t the freedom of being away from home, or the fact that she was finally living out her dream of playing her favourite sport at her top-choice school, then it was definitely the way Azzi Fudd slipped into her line and never left.
Not only was Azzi their team’s star pitcher and her closest friend, but she was also the same girl she’d met days before at the gas station. When they showed up to their first official training, it almost wasn’t even a surprise when they saw each other across the field. They both had kind of accepted by this point that an entity larger than them must’ve been shifting pieces behind the scenes to push their paths to overlap.
Their friendship rolled out steadily in slow steps. Paige vaguely remembered saving a seat beside her on the bus, and then Azzi just started tossing her gear bag down next to Paige’s in the dugout the next day. Soon, they were the last two at every practice, the only ones with enough energy left to stay behind and chase the sunset with worn softballs and their cleats digging into the dirt.
During the rougher valleys of the season, Paige turned to noise to think while Azzi searched for silence to recharge. Paige would drag her to a crowded dining hall, talk a mile a minute about anything and everything, until she caught the flicker of low battery in Azzi’s eyes. Then she’d steer them to a quiet, empty field where they’d play catch until sleep grew heavy in their eyelids.
But none of it compared to how happy Paige was in her sophomore year.
The major, developing step began in the middle of orientation week, when a poorly installed wax ring in the apartment upstairs caused a pipe to burst directly above Azzi’s dorm room. It would have been perfectly manageable had a potion of faeces and urine not leaked straight through the ceiling. After one panicked phone call later, Paige had shoved all her clothes into one side of her dresser and waved a hand at all the new empty space she’d cleared.
“It’s just common sense,” she’d explained, as if it was the most logical solution in the world. “You hang out here all the time anyways. Saves you walking all across campus.”
Everyone’s heard of that rule about friends not living together, and those who did shouldn’t expect to still be friends by the end of the year. Paige and Azzi took that rule and shoved it up everyone's asses. It was almost freaky how easily they shifted into their new relationship as roommates. Paige cooked, Azzi cleaned. Laundry got tossed into the blue hamper that sat in the middle, and Sunday nights were reserved for quiet evenings of folding and sorting. Often though, their clothes would get mixed up, and somehow Paige’s hoodie always ended up in Azzi’s side of the wardrobe.
Paige quickly learned that unless it was for a softball game, dragging Azzi out of bed required l fighting her tooth and nail. She learned how to wrestle against groaned protests and clenched fists gripping onto bedsheets.
They turned down parties to stay in and watch horrible movies while eating chocolate until their teeth hurt. They stretched out from opposite ends of the couch, feet touching together in the middle, while they pointed out each unrealistic aspect of every film. Moneyball ended up being one of the larger offenders, and by the time it ended, more popcorn ended up thrown at the TV than eaten.
By Spring, when days grew long and classes drained every last drop of energy, all Paige wanted was to drop her bag at the door and hear Azzi’s voice call from the kitchenette. Her laugh, her high-protein yoghurt stacked in the fridge, and the simple relief of having someone who she could exist as fully herself beside. It was only then that Paige felt herself able to decompress and melt into the little home they’d formed for themselves.
Azzi would braid strands of Paige’s hair mindlessly while they watched film. They fell asleep on the couch, woke with overlapped limbs, and pretended not to notice the blush that lingered on each other's cheeks. Paige would sling an arm around Azzi’s shoulders on the walk to training while thumbing circles along the line between the younger girl’s collarbone and neck. She pressed ice packs to Azzi’s shoulders after long pitching sessions and felt her relax back into her touch. She rested a gentle hand on the small of Azzi’s back in a packed crowd, then lean her forehead on her shoulder after a harsh loss.
As for on the field, their chemistry far surpassed anything Geno could have possibly imagined. They spoke in their silent language from opposite ends of the diamond. Communication travelled with a tilt of the head or a subtle tap on a thigh.
Now, unlike other catchers she’s faced against, Paige wasn’t usually one to chirp behind the plate. She’d always thought players who talked the most tended to not have the skills to back it up. Trash talk was lazy, unsportsmanlike, and above all, something used to overcompensate for what someone lacked.
At least, that was the rule she held everyone else to.
Time was ticking down and they were deep into a high stakes game, one with too much scrutiny and against a rival school to top it off. A player from the opposing team had spent the entire at-bat smirking, throwing sly, disrespectful remarks towards the mound in her best attempt of rattling Azzi in any way she could.
Paige noticed the tightness in Azzi’s jaw and the slight tremor in her fingers when she rubbed the ball. The hitter stepped in, bat swinging loose at her side and wearing an open smug of arrogance.
She cracked the knuckles on her right hand and readied herself to do the thing that worked every time she felt blood thicken the water.
She tilted forward, lifting slightly from the dirt. She raised her chin just enough for her voice to travel directly into the batter’s ear.
A whisper, low and cold.
“You miss this one.”
She timed it to the second. Azzi released the ball just as the batter’s eyes jerked towards Paige. The ball flew cleanly over the plate, tore through the strike zone, past the bat and slammed smack bang into Paige’s leather glove.
Third year finally rolled around, along with the baggage of expectations that came with two championships sitting behind them. Once they’d won twice, it was no longer a question of whether they could do it again, and more of an expectation. While no one on the team said it out loud, everyone was dying for another lick of that satisfying taste of gold.
On another note, Paige and Azzi signed a lease for a shared apartment. Paige couldn’t recall there ever being a proper discussion, but convenient routines and easy habits had already formed, so resigning was nothing but the obvious choice. They both pulled up to campus a day early and unpacked boxes in the same steady rhythm they’d found the year before. They passed clothes and dishwashing soap in a production chain amongst comfortable silence. There was nothing to catch up on anyway. They’d spent most of the holidays on FaceTime, sharing small events as they happened, to the point it felt like they hadn’t been separated at all.
Sometime during the break, an email landed in the team’s inboxes that shook things up. Their shortstop had transferred out. But Geno, ever the recruiter, didn’t leave the position open for long. By August, they were informed that a shortstop from California was on her way. The name was someone Paige had never heard of, but apparently her infamous bunt sent fielders rolling to stop it.
Paige, with her jokes and easy charisma, had always meshed easily with new teammates. Over the years, she’d become a sort of unofficial vet who’d be the one to explain how the show ran and which staff member to go to for what need. She stored names in her memory quickly and attached nicknames to them even faster. She had this effortless ability to make rookies feel like they were included in something bigger than just another sports team.
So when their new shortstop, Sheena Lu, arrived for introductions, Paige expected nothing but business as usual. She swaggered up with her hands in her pockets and an easy smile that hopefully read as friendly and approachable to her future teammate
“Hey, Lu! Paige,” she introduced herself. “Welcome to the team!”
“Oh, hi,” she replied shyly. “I’m Sheena.”
“Must be pretty different over here from California summers,” Paige added, opening a conversation for Sheena to grab onto.
But the shortstop barely responded. Instead, she offered a noncommittal hum, while her gaze curved past Paige, focus already captured by someone else in the group. Paige turned and attempted to scan what Sheena was grabbed by, but came up short.
Another moment passed in silence, and Paige was beginning to feel a bit awkward. But thankfully, Sheena spoke again.
“Is that Azzi Fudd over there?” she asked, eyes wide. Though, the excitement that creeped out of her tone suggested she already probably already knew the answer.
Paige turned once more, slower this time to properly look. There Azzi was, stood off to the side and half listening to an overly animated exchange between KK and Caroline. The brunette observed silently at the same time that she adjusted the strap on her cap. Her expression was blank and it kind of looked like she was staring off into space. To anyone else, it might have read as judgment, or as if she thought she was above this childish conversation. But Paige knew that in moments like these, Azzi was on another planet entirely, her mind drifting off without meaning to. She found herself smiling softly at the sight before she even realised she was.
“Yeah,” Paige confirmed. “You know her?”
Sheena let out a small, disbelieving laugh that sounded shaky at the end. “I wish. She’s so cool. I mean, have you seen her highlights? I’m kind of a fan, I can’t even lie. Does that make me sound lame? Oh my God, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No!” Paige reassured quickly. “Not lame.”
It definitely was, but it’s not like she had any ground to stand on. If being a fan of Azzi Fudd was pathetic, then Paige was the biggest loser of them all.
Sheena’s head couldn’t help but swivel back in Azzi’s direction. “Do you think she’d mind if I talked to her? She’s so pretty. When I found out I might be coming here, she was totally the selling point– oh my God. Sheena, shut up!” She cut her ramble off with a groan and slap to her face.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” Paige responded. In hindsight, the words were nothing more than a mere throwaway remark she pulled from instinct just for the sake of being agreeable. But within weeks, she would be wishing she’d never said them at all.
From that moment forward, Sheena took Paige’s light, passing, barely-even-meaningful suggestion and translated it into a fully granted permission to imprint herself onto Azzi in any way possible. At team hangouts, she lingered wherever Azzi stood, and since Paige herself typically lingered around Azzi, she noticed every little thing.
The way she laughed too hard at Azzi’s jokes, reassured her incessantly, and whenever practice called for mini scrimmages, Sheena always placed herself in a purposeful spot so she’d somehow be picked to be Azzi’s teammate every single time.
Paige brushed it off the first time, but then it happened twice. By the third time, it stopped feeling coincidental.
Not once did Paige question why she cared enough to notice, but one thing was for certain.
Ever since the season began and the roster shifted, the balance she’d grown used to felt slightly off. She told herself it was nothing. Probably just her overactive paranoia. People came and went all the time; it didn’t always have to mean anything.
Still, something nagged at her otherwise.
The first week of December marked the change of a season. It heralded naked tree branches and icy roads you had to shovel. That was, unless you were on a Division I softball team.
For Paige and the rest of her teammates, the first full week of December meant five consecutive days of batting practice. By the end of it, if your reaction time hadn’t improved, if your stance still looked floppy, or your follow-through lacked finesse, you could kiss goodbye any chance of earning one of the few lineup spots that actually mattered.
Back in first year, Paige couldn’t think of anything better. An entire week where she and Azzi would, obviously, be drill partners. Paige imagined her correcting her form using that quiet, soft-spoken voice that Paige loved, and the thought alone made her mouth water, like a dog waiting on the promise of a treat.
Would Azzi fall for it if Paige started with the technique wrong on purpose, just off enough to justify stepping in close and fixing it properly? What would it feel like to have Azzi stand behind her, guiding her through the motions Paige already knew by heart. Azzi’s hands on her shoulders, her waist, her hips. December couldn’t come soon enough.
But when practice assignments were finally scheduled, Paige had to do a double take to read the paper. Azzi wasn’t listed beside her name at all. Instead, Azzi and the relief pitchers were to rotate feeding balls to everyone equally, so the whole team could get practice at different arms, speeds, and Azzi’s fastball. Logically, Paige knew it made sense.
But there was no chance she was going to let it slide. Once she wanted something, everyone knew it was already considered hers.
“Geno, give me a number.”
“I said no,” he shut it down immediately. He didn’t even offer the decency to look at her.
“I said give me a number,” she persisted.
Geno exhaled while rubbing his temples. “I’m not budging on this. Azzi will partner with everyone equally, and so will you.”
Paige tilted her head, searching deep to find a solution. “So you’re telling me that even if I hit a home run every second elimination game, you still won’t let me and Az partner up?”
Geno thought over the proposal and must’ve thought he was about to present the impossible.
“Fine, I’ll give you this. You hit a home run in every elimination game all the way through to the finals, and I’ll let you and Fudd partner up for the entire week next year. And I’m only agreeing to this because I know it’s not going to happen.”
The following December of their sophomore year saw Paige and Azzi partnered all five days– the aftermath of a freshman season that delivered home a NCAA championship banner, and an MVP trophy with Paige’s name engraved on top.
Geno never bargained with his catcher again.
Paige crunched a fallen dried leaf beneath her shoe as she stepped back inside. She swiped a bead of sweat off her temple and let out a loud, unrestrained sigh of relief at the cool air of the indoor training centre shooting at her. She spent a second to actively pray thanks to whoever kept the air conditioning running constantly. Their first morning session was a perfect tip off to her Monday. In between her clean swings, and solid contact, she was pleased to have identified a few things she wanted to improve. As she stretched her shoulders, her mind was already flying ahead, picturing what tips Azzi would offer as they worked through the rest of the week together.
When Geno instructed everyone to partner up at the beginning of training, not a single person bothered looking towards Paige or Azzi. Anyone who’d trained there last season knew the drill, and Paige assumed the rookies had picked up on it secondhand within the first few weeks. Besides, she figured most people weren’t eager to test her patience and risk catching her territorial wrath.
She gulped down another sip of cool water from her water bottle, and wiped away a fallen droplet. As she lowered it, an approaching body blurred the edge of her sight.
“Paige! Do you know where Azzi went?”
It was Sheena. She saddled up with her arms bent at her hips, shaking the cotton neckline of her sweat-darkened shirt, which was as drenched as Paige’s.
“She just dashed to the bathroom,” Paige replied. “What’s up?” She hoped the faint, stirring irritation beneath the question hadn’t slipped through.
Paige sometimes wondered how her new teammate managed to survive before transferring to UConn, since it seemed like every day Sheena discovered a new reason to seek Azzi out for help.
The shortstop scratched her head then looked towards the bathroom in the distance. “I wanted to ask if she could pitch to me after lunch. I think I’m struggling with hitting the low, fast ones, and who better to learn from than the expert herself, you know?”
Paige pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek to buy herself a second to process Sheena’s words. Instead of answering right away, she lifted her bottle again and took another sip, internally shaking her head at the sheer audacity. As she swallowed, Paige already had the words prepared on her tongue. There was a set arrangement in place, one that had been given Geno’s stamp of approval. No one in their right mind argued with his word. Well, except for Paige of course.
“Look, Sheena, I’m sorry but-”
“Hi!” Azzi’s voice cut in brightly as she saw Paige at the door. “Oh- hey, Sheena!”
Paige turned and exhaled in relief to see Azzi approach them. At least now she didn’t have to worry about being the bad guy when she turned Sheena down for Azzi. Now, her best friend could do it for herself, and Sheena wouldn’t want to argue back if the refusal came straight from her.
Sheena’s face lit up immediately, and she didn’t hesitate to pounce. “Azzi! I was actually wondering if you could pitch to me this afternoon. There are a few shots giving me total grief, and nothing I'm doing is working.”
Azzi hesitated, just long enough for her eyes to flick to Paige for not even a full second.
Paige clenched her jaw so tightly it ached. She held herself rigid in the hopes that any rude scoff threatening to escape would stay contained. She was acutely aware of all their teammates milling nearby, doing a horrible job at pretending they weren’t listening. They weren’t subtle at all.
Sheena on the only hand, barely paused for breath. “I really don’t want to let the team down, and I just– I really need help. And if anyone can fix it, it’d be you.”
Paige felt the early rush of satisfaction coming before it even arrived, as well as the ridiculous urge to celebrate vindictively in advance. Her hand curled into a fist in preparation to pump the air. The childish victory call of “take that!” tickled the edge of her tongue.
Then Azzi spoke.
“Okay, partner with me after lunch.”
Azzi probably added something after that, but Paige didn’t register it. The world shrank and her ears rang, the sound sharp and aching. Her back molars ground together as she waited for the noise to fade, but her mind was already pulling her backwards to freshman year.
Those consecutive nights she broke into the batting cages to train alone for hours, hitting ball after ball until the joints in her arms rattled. The late-night gym sessions that followed, long after everyone else had gone home, where she pushed her arms to failure and welcomed the burn that tore through her muscles. All the dinners she turned down, the parties she skipped, sacrifices she never questioned because of the overwhelming hunger to fulfill her end of Geno’s agreement.
That hunger had pushed her to achieve what no other freshman had done before. She had molded her life around it, without a single complaint.
Only for it to feel as though it had all been handed away by a single sentence.
When she finally confronted Azzi, back in her dorm, the words came out with the type of sharpness that only came from a fragile, broken edge.
“What the fuck was-” She stopped herself, pulling a deep breah in to remind herself that this was Azzi she was speaking to. “What just happened back there?”
Azzi was in the middle of something mundane, like untying her shoelace at the door, but looked up to the sudden tension in Paige’s voice.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. Her voice was filled with such innocent confusion that only worsened Paige’s frustration, and felt like pointy nails pinching her chest.
“What am I talking ab-?” Paige’s words broke off, unable to finish the sentence. It felt like smoke was clogging her throat. “You betraying me! That’s what I’m talking about.”
Azzi frowned harder. Clearly only half a light bulb clicked on in her brain because she continued to wear that scrunched up, clueless look. “Are you talking about batting practice? Paige, you’re the best hitter on the team, and Sheena was struggling. I just thought it made sense.”
The calm ease she said it with only made the sting worse. Perhaps Azzi thought Paige was being selfish for wanting to keep the best pitcher to herself, but that idea never even got close to crossing Paige’s mind. The feeling of being pushed aside drowned out everything else, and every word Azzi offered did nothing but fan the flames.
“But you’re my partner!” the blonde cried out.
“Paige, I’m just feeding her the balls. It’s not like I’m best friends with her.” Azzi shook her head, her tone lifting at the end, still oblivious to what had Paige so worked up.
“No, of course you’re not,” she snapped back, the words spilling raw before she could temper them. “That’s definitely the last thing new girl wants.”
Azzi spluttered before speaking. “What does that even mean? P, I’m so confused right now. Sheena just wanted help getting her distance up by the end of the week.”
Paige laughed sharply, the sound cracking any semblance of calm she was managing at the start of this conversation. “Are you blind? She practically drools all over you every practice. She has a fat crush on you– it’s embarrassing!”
Her frustration flowed out unchecked, fueled by the realisation that this was apparently not going to be just a one-off situation. Sheena had every intention of staying locked as Azzi’s partner for the rest of the week. But Paige didn’t hear the harshness of her words until it was too late.
“You’re so fucking full of yourself,” Azzi hurled back.
The profanity sounded so foreign from Azzi’s mouth that it hit Paige like a slap then whipped tight around her throat.
“There is no way this is getting turned back on me,” Paige shot back, unwilling to back down.
“It is about you!” Azzi pressed on, anger finally crawling out. “You’re so bigheaded it’s insane. All these girls lining up for you, and the first one who isn’t into you must blow your mind! It’s making you crazy! You really can’t stand that someone might like me instead? ‘So embarrassing’? Like it’s impossible for anyone to find me attractive?”
Paige could barely keep up as Azzi’s tongue twisted and curled, each word spat with hurt and defensiveness coursing through.
That wasn’t what she had meant, at all. She meant it was embarrassing for Sheena– to be so, extremely desperate enough to pretend to be a bad hitter. Paige had checked the stats. Sheena wasn’t awful– far from it. She’d even batted second in the lineup for several games, a spot reserved for hitters the coaches could rely on.
But Azzi had taken it somewhere else entirely, somewhere Paige would never have gone on her own.
How had everything gotten so backwards?
Paige tried to steady herself and attempted to drag the conversation back to what actually mattered, if it could still be called a conversation at all. “I don’t know what you think I’m saying right now,” she said, shaking her head. “But I talked to some of the others, and even they think this is weird. Think about last year. Everyone knew to give us space during this week. That’s how it works.”
“Oh, so now you’re talking about me behind my back?” Azzi snapped. “Great! So now I’m this untouchable thing everyone has to avoid?”
“If that’s seriously how you think I see you, then you’re the one who’s crazy.” Paige shook her head, refusing to accept this backwards version of her feelings. None of this made sense. Now Azzi thought Paige didn’t find her attractive? Was this a joke?
“I’m done talking about this,” Azzi said finally. “I know we have that agreement and everything, and yeah, last year was fun, but I’m not buying into you calling a teammate asking for help ‘embarrassing.’ If someone’s struggling, you help them.”
“So what? You’re going to partner with her for the rest of the week?” As the sentence fell out of her mouth, her throat tightened into a bottle neck until it felt like she was about to choke up on her words. Her chest tightened as if it was collapsing in.
Azzi sighed, then hesitated.
“I don’t know Paige… we’ll see.”
The next day, Paige walked into practice wearing the hardest, downturned glare which dared anyone to so much as acknowledge Azzi’s new batting partner. Most of the team took the hint. Unfortunately for everyone, during Paige’s turn at the batting nets, KK– who had subbed in to feed to her– couldn’t hold back her snicker.
Batting Net One got thrown out after practice. It was hard to aim for a target when the metal post was bent beyond repair.
By the end of Friday, Paige had left her mark on every single net in the facility. Every softball from the coaching bucket met her brutal attack that grew only more explosive as the week dragged on. Not a single one of those pitches came from Azzi.
Sheena had better be a fucking good batter by the time game season.
The intensive training week passed, and the following Monday saw the blonde and brunette walking side by side from their dorm to the practice building. For how much Paige had anticipated batting week, she was surprisingly relieved it was finally behind them. They strolled in silence, basking in the last final moments of calm before Coach inevitably started yelling, until Paige broke it.
“How’s Sheena?”
“Huh?” Azzi glanced over, pulled out of whatever daydream had her transfixed. “Oh, she’s good. She mentioned something about her family coming to visit, which should be fun. They live overseas.”
“Her batting,” Paige corrected flatly. “I was asking if she’s improved.”
She secretly rolled her eyes. As if she gave a shit about Sheena’s parents or their international, probably-only-fly-first-class kind of money.
“Oh, sorry! Yeah, she’s a lot better now. Stopped hitting them into the dirt.”
Paige let out a small huff that sounded more like a hybrid between a laugh and a scoff, then nodded without responding.
Azzi slowed her step. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing.”
“You just laughed.”
Paige shrugged and kept her gaze fixed on the pavement ahead. “I just... isn’t that the bare minimum? She should already know that.”
Azzi stopped them in their tracks and turned to face her. “Paige. That’s not a nice thing to say.”
“I’m just saying.”
“It’s not easy for her living here, you know. Her parents live in Singapore. She sees them, what, two weeks a year for Christmas? She’s basically on her own.”
Paige didn’t stop walking and didn’t wait to see if Azzi was following her or not. “Is that why you’re so close to her now? You’re filling in as her mum?”
Azzi shook her head, exasperated. “I don’t get why you dislike her so much. And don’t lie, because I see the way you look at her when you think no one’s paying attention. But I see it, Paige.”
“I just-” Paige cut herself off before she exposed too much and tightened the strap on her backpack. She needed something to do other than focus on the knot growing in her chest. “You wouldn’t get it.”
Azzi let the words linger between them for a few more steps. Just before they reached the building entrance, she settled on what note she wanted to leave with “I think you’d actually like her if you gave her a chance. Shes really funny. Especially one-on one.”
Paige held the door open and let Azzi step inside first, borrowing a brief second of reprieve to process that detail. So now they were talking in private. She focused on the movement of her shoes to keep that information from digging deeper inside of her than it already had.
“I’m sure she’s hilarious.”
It all happened so fast. One moment, Sheena was perfectly upright and across from Paige on the field, no more than one base length apart. The next, she was flat on the ground, legs splayed out and arms limp by her head. Beside her, the softball rolled away casually, as if it hadn’t just knocked her out cold.
“Oh, shit.”
After that, everything blurred. Voices shouted, phones were dialed, and soon, whirring sirens cut through the air in a deafening wee-woo screech. Stretchers were dragged onto the field and cleats jumped out of the way to make room. Sheena expelled a low, disoriented moan as she was lifted into the ambulance.
“Does anyone have her parents contact number?” the assistant coach asked frantically.
Everyone shook their heads. Negative.
Azzi didn’t wait another beat. “They live in Singapore. It’s three in the morning there.”
The coach nodded once. “Alright. Azzi, you ride with her in the back. Call me as soon as the doctors assess her.”
Azzi stepped up without hesitation into the back of the vehicle beside Sheena’s stretcher. Just before the doors swung closed, she extended an arm to brush a soothing hand over Sheena’s shoulder and whispered words Paige couldn’t make out from the angle she was watching this all unfold.
And just like that, the doors shut, the sirens recommenced, and the ambulance disappeared around the corner. By the end of the entire ordeal, Paige still remained stationary, planted exactly where she’d been when she threw the softball that hit Sheena’s head.
Half a week later, Sheena was still in the hospital. Paige couldn’t quite decide whether that was a good or bad thing.
Bad, obviously. She wasn’t a monster. Of course she didn’t want Sheena suffering from a mild traumatic brain injury.
But like all things, there was a flip side that existed whether Paige chose to examine it or not. At the very least, she didn’t have to suffer through seeing Sheena’s face at early morning practices. More importantly, if Azzi was on the field and Sheena wasn’t, that limited the chances of them growing any closer than they already had. That absence gave Paige room to pretend, just for a little while, that their dynamic hadn’t shifted as much as it definitely had.
As long as it wasn’t displayed directly in front of her, she could almost believe she and Azzi were still as close as they’d always been, and that there wasn’t a third party steadily carving out more space in Azzi’s time, piece by piece.
To be fair, this dynamic where Azzi was annoyed at something Paige had done wasn’t new. Frankly, it happened quite often. The older girl always did something to get on her nerves– maybe one too many jabs to the ribs, or a small prank that she accidentally took too far. And once disturbed, worming back into Azzi’s good graces usually required a complex equation of things to make up for it. But Paige knew the formula like the back of her hand.
Sometimes it took a well-timed compliment, or a sly act of service like a coffee waiting in Azzi’s cup holder or her gear bag being packed before practice. And when all else failed, Paige could usually rely on her trusty puppy dog eyes to get Azzi to finally relent and go back to cuddling her begrudgingly like she always did.
But, like all things in Paige’s life, the most reliable way had always been on the field.
When it came to softball, Paige knew how to read Azzi mid-game like nothing else. The younger would let an off batting stretch get under her skin. Balls that died too early would roll straight into the opposition’s mit rather than past them. At some point, the built up frustration would tighten between her shoulders and bubble up in her face, and Paige would see it all. As the game progressed, Azzi would step back into the box, brushing off the typical noise of ‘good luck!’ and unremarkable ‘you got it!’s. But then, cutting through it all, she would hear,
“Imagine the ball’s my head!”
It was such a Paige thing to say that Azzi never needed to look to know who it echoed from. And when the other pitcher drove the next ball forward, Azzi knew the opposition had already lost.
Bam!
The crack of the bat shot her gunning to first base. All of her focus was funnelled into running as fast as she could that she didn’t have time to track where her ball landed. But it was only when the cheers grew to the point of deafening, even through her helmet, did she glance up. That’s when she realised.
Her ball had cleared past the barrier.
A home run.
After something like that, it was impossible to stay mad. Not after she went home clutching the MVP trophy for that championship win, glowing from a hard earned dub. Paige has always known how convince her to never stay mad.
But this time, something felt different. Azzi’s response hit harder than any of their endless bickerings or her fiery comebacks. This time, she was just quiet. She didn’t look at Paige much anymore and the silence hit harder than any argument they’d ever shared, and Paige knew, instinctively, that this standstill was going to be different than all those other times.
She had to adjust to a new routine. Now, she walked herself to practice in the mornings alone, without Azzi to fill the time with mumbled singing and updates about the upcoming weather that Paige had come to rely on. Without those small reminders, Paige was beginning to feel lost without anything to anchor her to remembering which day it was. She lost her headphones, so she walked in silence, and she showed up dressed for the wrong conditions on more than one occasion. Last week, she accidentally wore her brand-new Dunks on a day forecasted for torrential downpour. They were still sitting on her balcony, caked with dried mud, as if a little sunlight might somehow perform miracles on the ruined leather.
When practice was over, Azzi no longer lingered like she used to. She finished her cone stacking duties with extreme efficiency and dashed as soon as she could, leaving Paige behind to do nothing but watch her retreating figure.
She caught herself thinking back to old times, when things were as they should be. She and Azzi used to stay for hours after practice, fielding grounders, throwing loopy airballs and finally finishing by backing up farther and farther just to see how far they could throw the ball to eachother.
They’d go on forever like that until it the sky darkened the and stormy clouds forced them to pack it in.
And sometimes, on rare nights, they wouldn’t go home at all. Once in a blue moon, they’d lie flat on the dirt in the center of the diamond, shoulders brushing, and admiring the stars while crickets chirped into the silence around them. Their heads would rest close enough so Paige could sense the warmth radiating from Azzi’s temple, and feel small flyways tickle her cheek. Most of the time they didn’t talk, letting the cool air brush over their skin. But once in a while, they would. And every time they did, Paige felt herself fall a little further into something she knew was far too deep for her to climb out of.
On one particular night, the field lights had been long been turned off which left the diamond dim and open to the starry sky. The field smelled of cut grass and the remnants of hard effort from the day’s training. The muscle tissue deep between Paige’s shoulder blades ached in that satisfying way that only came from a long practice session.
This time, Azzi broke the silence first.
“Did you always want this?” she asked, her voice drifted quietly and edged towards caution. It was a tone Paige could’ve listened to for hours if she could. “For your whole life to end up revolving around this sport?”
“One hundred percent,” Paige didn’t hesitate even a second to answer. “Didn’t you?”
Azzi let out a short sigh which broke off into a slight laugh. “I don’t know. Well, I do know. I don’t know why I said it like that.” She paused. Her eyes focused on the scatter of constellations overhead. “I didn’t like it at first. Softball, I mean.”
“What? How is that possible?” Paige cried, immediately requiring clarification. The admission caught her off guard. Since coming to UConn, the idea of softball without Azzi Fudd in it didn’t feel possible at all. In her mind, the two had long since twisted themselves into the same thing.
“This game gave me everything,” Paige spoke on before Azzi could elaborate, the words spilling out full of earnest. “This team, a goal, something to aim toward every day. What else does that?”
“No, I get that,” Azzi agreed quickly. “I do. I like the team part too. I like winning, especially once I stopped riding the bench.” She paused again so she could select her words more deliberately this time. “But I think you love it the way you do because you’re good at it. If you weren’t, if you lost all the time, you wouldn’t be this obsessed with it. You can’t tell me I’m wrong.”
Paige opened her mouth, then closed it after nothing came out. She followed Azzi by staring up at the sky, jaw set tight, because as much as she hated it, she had to admit that in her heart, there was an element of truth that sat uncomfortably in the words. Azzi took advantage of the silence to continue.
“If all that we’ve built only works when we’re winning, then what happens when that stops? When someone’s better than us. When we’re not the team everyone’s gunning to beat. Who are we then? Am I still happy when I don’t have a trophy to point at? When I can’t justify every sacrifice with a banner on the wall?”
Paige absorbed every word and held her tongue so Azzi could keep going.
“I barely have time to live outside of this,” she admitted. “I don’t see people. I don’t date. And I keep thinking… what happens when I finally do, and I’m lying next to someone I’m supposed to care about, but I can’t sleep because we lost by one run that afternoon? What if this game hardens me to the point that I forget to be normal about anything else?”
“So what,” Paige propped herself up on one elbow so she could face her properly, “you don’t think it’s worth it? You think chasing the cup fucks you up enough you’d rather choose a relationship over this team?” Over us?
Azzi didn’t look at her. “Yeah. Maybe.”
Paige let a singular beat pass, then shook her head. “No. No way, Az. I don’t agree with that. I can’t, not about this.”
“Then tell me why I’m wrong.”
She took a slow breath in and searched deep through her heart for the right words. “Why does it have to be one or the other?”
“That’s not what I mean.” Azzi frowned.
“You talk as if being tough means icing yourself out of everything else,” Paige said. “Like that somehow makes you less capable of loving someone. It’s bullshit.”
“Doesn’t it?” Azzi asked. “Okay, think of it this way. When you’re behind that diamond, and your calves are burning, and your knees are begging for rest, and your heart is beating so fast it’s screaming at you to stop. You’re trained to stand your ground while a ball flies at your face faster than your instincts want to allow. Isn’t that unnatural? How does that not bleed into everything else?”
“You’re framing it all wrong.”
“No. I’m not,” Azzi pushed back.
“But you are, though.” Paige shook her head, and an arising thought pulled a soft, uncontrolled smile to her face without her even realising. “How can you not be romantic about softball?”
Azzi scoffed. “You’re insane.”
“No, I’m not,” Paige copied. She shook her head again and shifted closer, their breaths mere inches apart. “People bring their girlfriends to our games all the time. They make first dates out of sitting on uncomfortable bleachers, eating shitty hot dogs, while watching something that technically has no real impact on their lives at all.” Her voice dropped into something softer. “And then there’s the team. When the bases are loaded and you just need that one run, sometimes the most important thing you can do is sacrifice yourself to get that teammate on third home. How is that not the purest act of love?”
She didn’t mention the intimacy that suffocated every moment she and Azzi trained together, just the two of them. How it pressed on her chest so unbearably it almost reached a breaking point. If she were being more truthful, she would’ve explained that what Azzi probably viewed as routine, or a mere necessity, was something Paige treasured deep in her bones. Azzi was famous for breaking things down to their simplest, most derived form, so from her point of view, she probably viewed their roles as functional and interchangeable. Like they could be any pair of teammates on the team who just balanced to throw to each other.
But they weren’t just an outfielder aiming for first, or a shortstop tossing to whoever was closest, whether that be second or third.
No other two players spent the hours they did together, repeating the same motions over and over until every action was perfected down to the very centimetre. Before practice, after practice, weekends, holidays. It never mattered. They learned to communicate through each other’s tells more fluently than through spoken words, able to read the smallest twitches in posture like it was breathing.
And sure, game days were chaos. Competitions were a test of who could chant the loudest and who could slide the furthest. There was no space for anything but noise and relentlessness.
But within each play, just for a small, intimate moment, there was a pause. A slim pocket of silence where nothing else could survive. The batter stood between them– just the pitcher and the catcher, breathing in sync, and responsible for everything that came next.
Paige watched Azzi breathe in, round her arm, and drive the ball straight into her glove.
If that wasn’t romantic, she didn’t know what was.
“Alright! Room assignments are here.” The assistant coach slapped the clipboard flat on a couch in the hotel lobby. She scanned the group with hawk eyes, daring someone to test her patience. “No one leaves their rooms tonight. I won’t care about whatever excuse you come to me with. Anyone caught sneaking out is running sixty laps before they even think about touching a ball tomorrow, and don’t try trick us. We will know!”
A few groans rose from the back, but most of them laughed at her strict words. The road had been wrought with tortuous bends and turns, and the narrow bus seats meant everyone’s joints were stiff. Pre-season scrimmages and early home games had shot the year off to a solid start. But this was their first true away game of the conference, and the whole team was buzzing with restless energy and itching to remind everyone of who they were.
But first, Paige needed sleep.
The bus ride had been anything but restful. Eager to get herself a good spot, she’d hopped aboard early and claimed a window seat. Instead of sitting down, she stayed standing longer than necessary, craning her neck toward the windows so Azzi would see where she was. She spent the first few minutes killing time, leaning forward so she could joke around with KK in the seat in front. Azzi was infamous for sleeping through alarms more often than not, so Paige hadn’t worried at first. Typical Azzi. Probably still tucked under her comforter, blissfully snoozing the morning away.
Then the doors shut. And Paige was still standing.
“Paige!” CD yelled from the front. “Sit down. We’re about to head off.”
“But-” Paige started to protest, ready to jump into an explanation about how their star pitcher was about to get stranded on campus.
“Bueckers. Sit down! Now.”
You didn’t want CD telling you anything twice, much less three times. Paige grumbled under her breath and dropped into her seat just as the engine rumbled to life. That’s when the roll started.
Her coach called names down the aisle and voices answered back in varying degrees of enthusiasm.
“Present, as always,” one muttered.
“Here,” another forced out.
“Tip of the morning!” That was KK.
Paige’s name had been called early, so she stared out the window at the thin edge of road visible through her window, until she heard Azzi’s name. She opened her mouth to yell that her bus partner hadn’t arrived and had overslept her alar-
“Here.”
Paige whipped her head around so fast she nearly nicked her shoulder on the armrest.
There was no mistaking who spoke. Only one person could sound that pretty so early in the morning. Even croaky from sleep and a little rough around the edges, it was soft and unmistakable, a voice she knew too well.
There Azzi was, hidden eleven rows back. Paige realised then that she must’ve boarded even earlier than she did to escape her notice.
Then Paige’s eyes shifted to the seat beside her.
For one fleeting millisecond, she hoped it was empty. Making excuses on Azzi’s behalf came instinctually. Maybe it was her knee acting up again, and she needed the aisle to stretch it out. Sure, it would suck to sit so much further from her as usual, but at least there would be an understandable reason for the change.
But the seat wasn’t empty.
Beside Azzi, sat Sheena Lu, relaxed and already typing on her laptop like this was the everyday routine.
Everything went red.
She twisted back around immediately, unable to stomach the sight any longer, but not before Azzi glanced up. Their eyes met for the briefest heartbeat, and Paige hated how naked she felt. She’d never been good at hiding anything and Paige couldn’t help but wear every emotion plainly on her face. She knew that Azzi had seen every bit of shock, anger and disappointed that flashed on her expression.
But worse that that, Paige caught that Azzi’s face didn’t reveal a thing. No flinch, no eyebrow scrunch as a masked apology, no hint of guilt in her eyes. Nothing.
Azzi didn’t change at all.
By the time CD finished the roll call, Paige was vibrating so hard she genuinely considered if everyone’s suggestion that she seek help might be valid for once. Nothing she did could shake the hot anger from the edges of her vision. She measured her breaths, counted down from ten, while trying to erase the image already branded into the backs of her eyelids. Azzi and Sheena, side by side.
Everything pissed her off after that. KK reclining her seat straight into Paige’s knees. Caroline’s obnoxious hay-fever sniffles from across the aisle. Aubrey laughing far too loudly while on FaceTime with her new girlfriend, with zero respect for the rest of the team. Which she could do, because they were girlfriends. In love.
Paige just about hit the fan.
“Can you shush?” she snapped, curling around to whisper-shout through the gaps between the seats, though it was definitely more of a shout than a whisper.
“Damn. Someone’s in a mood…” Aubrey dragged the last word out before turning back to her phone and raising her eyebrows, as if to silently say to her girlfriend ‘can you believe this guy?’.
So by the time they reached the hotel, Paige couldn’t have cared less about who she was rooming with. She just wanted a shower and a bed.
“Ah, crap.” Sheena’s ear-grating voice scraped Paige’s insides like nails on a chalkboard.
“It’s okay,” someone offered in consolation. “KK’s a great roommate.”
“But I wanted to be with you…” Sheena’s whining drifted off, her upset pout directed towards Azzi.
Paige almost rolled her eyes straight to the back of her head. Who cared who you were paired up with? It was just for one night, and you were sleeping anyways. Paige couldn’t have given less of a fu-
room 7: paige + azzi
Suck on that! Paige couldn’t help the blissful and immediate satisfaction that flared through her chest. She didn’t bother hiding it as she grabbed her key and jetted straight for the elevators. She was sleeping next to Azzi, and Sheena wasn’t! Sucks to suck!
In her excitement, she must’ve rushed so fast that she reached the room first. Shrugging, she dropped her duffle and skipped directly into the shower.
The hot water reddened her skin and soothed her muscles while steam filled the small bathroom. As she scrubbed away the stuffy bus air, she found herself rehearsing lines without meaning to. What topic sounded casual enough, but still allowed room for her to joke around? Should she recycle a conversation they’d had before to play it safe? Or would that be too boring? Somewhere between shampoo and conditioner, it struck her that this wasn’t natural. Never once had she needed to prepare to talk to Azzi. From the very beginning, since that first accidental meeting at the gas station, words always flowed effortlessly between them, like something had pushed them into motion long before.
Now, one wrong word felt like stepping directly onto already-cracked ice.
No matter though. Fortune favoured the prepared, or whatever the saying was, and Paige had done plenty of it. She was confident the night would play out with its usual rhythm: chatting until lights out, pretending to sleep when coach knocked for room checks, only to whisper again until the sun rose.
But it soon became clear that someone else didn’t share those same plans.
When she returned to the bedroom, towel snug around her chest, she was met with darkness. The lights had already been switched off. On a closer inspection, Azzi was tucked in bed, her chest rising and falling, slow and even. She had her silk sleep mask pulled over her eyes, a sure sign that she was genuinely asleep. Last year, Paige probably would’ve smiled at the pink bunny detailing. Tonight, it felt like a closed door.
She slipped into her pyjamas as quietly as possible, stepping into her pants with exaggerated care, careful to not wake Azzi up. Since the younger girl was scarily sensitive to light, Paige had to stifle a yelp after tripping in the pitch-black room. The dreadful silence amplified every breath and every rustle of the sheets as she slid into bed.
It dawned on her then, for the first time, that maybe Azzi’s distance had nothing to do with Sheena. Paige had assumed that once the girl was discharged, this disruption would resolve itself and everything would snap back to normal. But now, she wondered if that had been a myth she’d been hiding behind to soothe herself- something false, like a band-aid.
Because Sheena was discharged two days ago… and Azzi was still distant.
Paige stared up into the black nothingness above her. She couldn’t see a thing, but she swore the popcorn ceiling was mocking her.
The space between their beds felt wider than it ever had.
The sun arrived without ceremony, and for the first time, Paige watched it rise without the sounds of Azzi worrying about how late they’d stayed up. She fell back asleep.
When she woke again to the blaring alarm clock, Paige opened her eyes and gathered energy into her vocal cords so she could argue against Azzi’s groggy complaints and eventually drag her out of her slumber, as she always inevitably had to do.
But when she turned across the room, she was met with an empty bed. The sheets on Azzi’s side had long since cooled and smoothed flat by the natural progression of time. She was already gone.
By the time Paige made it downstairs, Azzi was seated around a circular table shared with their teammates. She was nursing a half-drunk cup of coffee and scraping the bottom of her yoghurt bowl, with, notably, Sheena by her side.
Paige hesitated, unsure whether to pull up the chair next to her as she always did, or to pretend she hadn’t noticed her at all. The uncertainty made the top of her neck itch, and the loose cotton threads of her shirt feel noticeably more irritating against her skin than ever before.
The team filed onto the bus and rode to the field. Paige decided to sit with KK this time. She told herself it was because she needed to go over gameplay with their outfielder, but truthfully, she didn’t know if she could survive another sting of Azzi choosing to sit somewhere else again.
As soon as the bus rolled to a stop and the girls spilled out, Geno clapped his hands and immediately called for warm-ups.
Paige nodded and went to grab her mitt. She scanned the field for a throwing partner, no longer able to comfortably assume she was paired with her pitcher. She was already bracing herself to look past Azzi when her name got yelled out.
“Paige!”
The blonde barely reacted in time before a softball arced swiftly through the air and slammed perfectly into her mitt without her having to adjust. The sting of impact shot through her arm was so familiar that she knew exactly whose face she was going to see when she looked up.
Azzi stood a few metres away, mitt raised, and eyes trained back on her.
It was something so small– barely anything, really– but this was the first time in days that Azzi had chosen her without question, and God did it felt enormous. Paige transferred the ball into her throwing hand while she begged her face to please remain neutral. But when she spun it back across the field, straight into Azzi’s glove, a dizzying sense of relief loosened in her chest. She told herself not to read into something so mundane, but she couldn’t help it.
They fell into an easy rhythm, allowing muscle memory to take over. Given recent events, even something as simple as warm-ups felt like something Paige couldn’t take for granted. She found herself treasuring each catch and then each throw, as though it might all disappear if she wasn’t cautious enough.
When it was time for the coin toss, coach indicated for Azzi to head over to the home dugout.
Azzi nodded, then nudged Paige slightly with her elbow. “C’mon. Let’s go.”
Paige hadn’t noticed Coach’s signal, but she didn’t question it. When Azzi asked, she would always follow.
UConn won the toss. Indecisive as always, Azzi hesitated and chewed on the inside of her lip. Just like clockwork, she glanced at Paige in a quiet request for her to take the lead.
Very aware of Azzi’s tendency, Paige already had a response prepared. “Field first.”
The opposing captain nodded and then turned to head back deep into their own dugout. Paige was already halfway exited out the gate when a leg struck out from the side. It caught Azzi’s calf, sending her stumbling clumsily, though luckily she caught herself just before she hit the concrete.
“Oops,” Number thirty-two drawled, smiling mockingly. “Better be careful, Fudd.”
Azzi, always so painfully conflict-averse, didn’t say a word.
But Paige on the other hand, was spilling with outrage. She pivoted on her foot and allowed anger to run fast and hot. She was ready, guns blazing, to turn back and make it an issue– scene be damned. But Azzi’s calloused hand circled her wrist with a force firm enough to keep them moving towards their own dugout.
“The fuck was that?” Paige hissed.
Azzi kept her gaze forward. She didn’t look at her once. “Relax.”
“You don’t just trip a player for no reason.”
“Don’t worry.” Azzi finally dropped Paige’s wrist. Her tone cut in a way Paige hadn’t felt before. “She wasn’t flirting with me. No need to be disgusted.”
Paige jumped to correct her. “Azzi, you know that’s not-”
“Doesn’t matter,” Azzi cut her off. “We’ve got a game to play.”
They walked back to their dugout, steps fallen out of sync.
The game was falling into pieces, with the opposition leaving them behind in the dirt. The deficit had nothing to do with UConn failing to score bases. In fact, Paige’s bat came alive early and kept their first inning alive with a bang. With loaded bases and #5 fourth in the lineup, it was a guaranteed formula for a blowout home run. But offense only made up half of the equation.
By the third inning, the opposition was firing with loaded bases and the score was tilting further in the wrong way.
Azzi vibrated with ungrounded energy on the mound. She had the ball clenched tight in her hand, fingers pressing into all the wrong seams. From behind the plate, Paige’s irritation stirred as she took in the faraway look on Azzi’s face, the one filled with too many thoughts and jumbled emotions. Paige could read it like an open book.
When another fastball sailed just off the corner and the changeup died far too early in the dirt, Paige noticed the tension in Azzi’s neck, then the off-rhythm tempo of her breath. She watched one pitch miss high, the next wide, another float uselessly. She couldn’t stand to watch any longer.
Paige turned to the umpire and called for time.
She slid off her mask and jogged out to the mound, heart pounding unevenly with each step. Azzi didn’t look at her when she stepped up, eyes still locked on a single leaf folded into the grass.
“Az,” Paige spoke quietly. No response.
“You saving your pitches for the finals?” Not even a laugh, or a smile.
Instead, Azzi shook her head, unimpressed and much too proud. “I don’t need a breather.”
“I know,” Paige encouraged gently. In moments like these, Azzi’s ego was fragile, a tangled mess that required the utmost care while handling. “You’re still hitting your spots. Just wanted to talk through this batter.”
Azzi exhaled through her nose, then finally nodded.
“She’s got fast hands,” Paige explained. “Likes the fastball when it’s out over the plate.”
“So I should pitch her in this time,” Azzi suggested. Her tone was low and serious. It was a reflection of how badly she wanted to get back into the game.
“You’re the boss. I trust you,” Paige replied, letting Azzi fully take the reins. “But we’ve got this one. Let’s stick it to her.”
“What if I get to three balls?” Azzi’s asked unsurely, unable to help the insecurity from bubbling to the surface.
“Then show off that nasty slider I know you’ve been hiding,” Paige redirected instantly. “Just throw it to me. I’ve got you.”
Azzi let the words of encouragement seep fully into her brain. Finally, she nodded with a new gathered sense of certainty.
The next time Azzi let go of the ball, it snapped directly into Paige’s mitt. And so did the next after that. Batter #32 went down swinging, frustration clear as day when she trudged defeatedly back to the dugout.
For the first time in her career, Azzi successfully clawed her way out of a rut mid-game. The game’s momentum picked up again once her rhythm had returned. She worked tirelessly, sniping through the rest of the lineup with renewed focus. But despite the surging comeback, the home team’s lead had grown too large.
The game ended. 12–11, home win.
After the girls came back home to Connecticut following the game, things between Paige and Azzi fell back into something slightly more familiar. They slipped into their previous routines of walking to training together, driving around town aimlessly, and cooking dinner for two.
But still, there was no hiding the simmering aftermath of tension lingering beneath the surface of whatever this weird thing between them was. Paige couldn’t complain, though; at least Azzi had stopped skirting around her and no longer gave her the cold shoulder. She’d take whatever she could get.
On a certain night, Paige told Azzi that morning that she planned on hanging out in Nika’s room upstairs for a bit. As much as she loved spending time with her roommate, staying for hours in Nika’s dorm was pretty routine. The dorm upstairs was just better. Nika’s couch was comfier, her TV was bigger, and most nights they ended up there long after Azzi had fallen asleep anyway. It was another unspoken arrangement that had grown naturally over time.
They were an hour into a survival game when the screen paused. It flickered twice, then died for good.
Nika flopped back across the couch and let out a frustrated groan. “Fuck, okay. I give up. It’s not going to work.”
Paige was still buzzing from her energy drink she’d down while walking here, so she checked the time and shrugged. “We can just go back to mine.”
They quickly unplugged the gaming system and headed downstairs. When Paige stepped through the door of her dorm, the first thing she noticed was the empty hook by the entryway.
Azzi’s keys were missing.
Paige placed her own keys into her slot and racked her brain, searching for anything Azzi might’ve said throughout the day. She hadn’t mentioned plans. They’d done their weekly grocery run the day before– Paige was sure of it, because she remembered ragging on Azzi’s cart, which was loaded with vegetables and cottage cheese. She, on the other hand, had tossed in Pop-Tarts, Slim Jims, and a bag of Tru Fru to balance out all the grossness.
The blonde shrugged and shoved the questions to the back of her mind. She and Nika plugged the setup back into the TV and sank themselves into the couch. Once the screen flickered back to life, one round blurred into the next, and hours passed quickly. The two kept one-upping each other and refused to be the one to finish the night with a loss. They played and played until the light outside the window faded and the hours slipped by unnoticed.
In the middle of another round, Nika yelled in victory as she shot another player dead. “Yo, just give up already, this is yo-”
A familiar creak of the door hinge interrupted her, followed by soft laughter trickling in through the hall. Paige and Nika twisted their heads atop of their necks to look.
Azzi stepped in first, shrugging off her coat and tugging her beanie free. A second figure trailed in behind her, close enough that their shoulders brushed. Paige tried to remember if she’d seen this girl before, but she came up short. She moved easily, taking Azzi’s jacket without asking and hanging it on their– Paige and Azzi’s– rack.
The stranger pulled her sweater over her head to reveal a box-tee and the waistband of her boxers, then let the jumper drop onto a chair. As she settled herself in to their dorm, each of her movements were questionably smooth and with familiarity, like she’d done this all before.
Paige watched it all, static.
Azzi wobbled as she balanced on one foot to kick off her shoe. With a cheeky grin, the girl tilted her hip into Azzi’s, just forceful enough to bump her off balance. Azzi let out a unrestrained laugh and waited no more than a second to nudge her back. Both of their smiles were comfortable and careless. Too loose to be completely sober.
Nika eyed Paige, eyebrow lifting in a silent question. Paige didn’t notice. Her attention was locked on the stranger standing in the middle of her apartment.
The lights were still low, but Paige squinted to catch every detail anyway. Her hair was long, and straight so it fell smoothly behind her broad shoulders. Her muscular arms filled out the sleeves of her fitted shirt and denim stretched tight over quads. A small nose ring glinted when she walked past the lamp light.
They hadn’t bothered turning the entrance light on, seemingly too focused on giggling over whatever their conversation was about. It occurred to her all at once that if Nika’s TV hadn’t randomly broken down, she would’ve still been upstairs, and none the wiser to what was happening just one floor below her. The thought of Azzi bringing home strangers while Paige had been busy elsewhere lodged painfully in her chest. Her mind tumbled into a spiral. Who knew how many times this had happened?
Azzi leaned in and murmured something into the girl’s ear. Her guest nodded, then headed straight for Azzi’s bedroom. Not once did she look around or stop to pause at their decorations. She just reached for the handle and disappeared inside as if she already knew the way.
Paige felt the faint sensation of Nika’s socked foot kick gently against her shin.
Instead of beelining into her bedroom, Azzi approached them on the couch, forcing Paige to look away from where the girl had vanished and school her expression from sour into something passable. Up close, the little details she hadn’t noticed from across the room emerged in the light. Mascara darkened Azzi’s lashes, a light sweep of blush warmed her cheeks and earrings sparkled on her ears. They were the pair Paige knew she adored but almost never wore, since they were banned during training and usually not worth the hassle of taking in and out every day.
Paige felt her food rising back up.
“Hi, Nika,” Azzi greeted softly, lowering her volume to match the dimly lit living room. Nika hey’ed back with a casual tone that hid any possible wariness she might’ve felt.
As Paige stared up at Azzi, her brain lagged behind the moment. She noted, absurdly, that Azzi had greeted only Nika, but hadn’t acknowledged her at all. Under normal circumstances she probably wouldn’t have thought about it twice, but lately, every look felt unusually weighted, and every omission pressed heavier than justified.
For a singular second, she considered taping her mouth shut and pushing her head down. Just let it go, her logic urged. After all, the last time she’d pushed something like this, it led to her words being misconstrued in every impossibly backwards direction. She had to be careful with what she said next. She couldn’t afford to spook whatever tiny bit of Azzi she’d been granted these past few days.
“How are you?” is what she settled on instead. She winced internally as the question flowed out. It sounded too out of place given the unignorable elephant in the room, but it was too late to reconsider.
Azzi was obviously thinking the same thing, since her head flinched just a slight touch. She blinked emptily, likely surprised the blonde didn’t jump at the chance to interrogate her about the unexpected fourth person in this apartment.
"I'm... good," Azzi responded after a pause. A metal click flicked her gaze briefly to catch the bedroom door close, before returning it back to Paige.
“Good… that’s good,” Paige nodded to herself, too stuck in what she’d seen mere seconds ago.
The tension in the air was so thick it was palpable. It was a standstill that no one had balls big enough to break first.
"I should probably head out," Nika, predictably, was the one to offer mercy. Paige and Azzi were both too chicken shit.
"Oh- no, you don't have to," Azzi jumped in quickly. "It's fine, promise. We’re just going to-" she gestured vaguely toward her room. "We're not-"
"I was leaving anyway," Nika cut in, already rising off the couch.
Azzi offered to walk her out. Paige didn't wait around another second to observe the rest. The moment the other two rounded the corner, she stood abruptly and rushed into her own room.
Just before she pushed the door closed, she heard her best friend murmur something to Nika.
“I thought you guys were upstairs. If I’d known, I-” the rest was cut off by the door she slammed a little harder than she meant to.
In the bathroom, she splashed freezing water across her face and gripped the edge of the counter so tightly her knuckles shook with pressure.
She leaned her head over the sink, willing gravity to wrench this nauseous swirl in her stomach down the drain. Her mind filled with images she could barely endure: Azzi's laugh, the girl’s hand lingering at her back, the way they’d pushed at the other with comfortable ease.
Through the wall, giggling laughter filtered through again. Azzi’s voice, followed by the other girl's.
Paige closed her eyes.
It wasn't just Sheena anymore. No longer was this confined to the team, or to circumstances Paige could lie to herself were temporary. Azzi was actively building a life that no longer included her in the way it once had. And worst of all, she had absolutely no clue how much of it was happening right underneath her nose.
The moment Paige thought that tense blip from the beginning of December was over, the cruel gods of this world bumped her down a notch. Suddenly, everything felt more brittle than before, somehow worse now that neither of them bothered to pretend otherwise.
Since Azzi’s date, Paige had taken to ignoring her outright. Unlike before, she no longer made pitiful attempts at starting conversations and only acknowledged Azzi when absolutely necessary. Stubborn as Paige, Azzi matched the distance with an infuriating kind of restraint that ground at Paige’s insides. Since neither of them were pushing back, it felt like neither of them wanted to be the one to chase either.
The dynamic was foreign and icky compared to how they used to act before. Before all this mess, they shared inside jokes and random snacks scavenged from convenience stores. Now all they had in common was the air they breathed, taut with friction and strained so thin it might just implode at any moment.
This standstill lasted a full week until CD noticed, as she always did.
“Pack it in,” she snapped after a routine drill ended with numerous dropped balls and too many unforced errors. “You’re not heading to your lockers until you sort whatever this is out. Thirty minutes on the diamond. And don’t think I won’t know if you leave early.”
One by one, their teammates, coaches, and the training staff filtered out the building. The field emptied, leaving Azzi and Paige alone as the last two on the dirt.
The light generators hummed against the crisp air as dusk settled overhead. Paige walked to her spot behind the plate without thinking. She settled low into a squat and held her mitt open, every movement guided by habit alone. She almost expected Azzi to roll her eyes and walk off. But she stayed, as if governed by the same force that had led Paige to do the same. She toed the rubber, rolled the ball once around her palm, and set her grip.
From her vantage point, Paige didn’t need an announcement to know exactly where the pitch was going.
She caught it cleanly. A familiar sting bloomed in her palm and instantly triggered her muscle memory to take over as she transferred the ball to her throwing hand and tossed it back.
The ball travelled between them like that for several silent minutes. With each catch, their breathing tangled further into sync, this unspoken push and pull tightening until the fibres of their lungs braided into one.
"How's-” Paige started.
"Fine.” Azzi shut the ball in her glove and pitched back a riseball without missing a beat.
Paige caught it and held it a second longer than necessary before returning it. “And Sheena?”
"Why are you so curious about everyone today?" Azzi’s words landed less like a question and hit more like a jab. Her next fastball broke in sharper that time.
“Just wondering,” Paige shrugged, shaking out her catching hand until the bite in her palm dulled.
They repeated the motions in a steady rhythm. Azzi pitching, testing different spins and speeds, Paige catching them all perfectly each time. The gap in dialogue stretched out, which meant every smack of leather impacting leather echoed louder into the empty field. Eventually, Paige broke the silence.
“How do you think we’ll go in these last scheduled season games?” She forced an imitation of ease into her voice in an attempt to bridge this gap between them.
Azzi shrugged, eyes tracking the ball as it spun towards her. "I was confident at the start of the year, but… I don't know anymore. Elims are coming up soon."
Too soon, is what she didn’t say. But they were both thinking it. Leading teams in other conferences had caught up. New recruits, sharper scouting, full teams built with exploiting UConn's weaknesses particularly in mind. Any cracks of weakness in their star pitcher and catcher had undoubtedly been studied with the one winning goal in mind.
"I was confident too," Paige said, pleased to have found something they could finally agree on, as small as it was. "I think since... since all of this started, the team's been kind of rocky."
"All of this?" Azzi repeated.
Paige couldn't tell if Azzi was genuinely the most naive person alive, or if she was just refusing to acknowledge the hard truth out loud.
Either way, Paige wasn't letting it slide. Coach hadn't forced them out here for nothing.
"Don't do that, Az," Paige shook her head. "We've been weird since, what, December? Before that even, I don’t know.”
"I don't have a problem with us," Azzi said flatly. Her next shot scraped the bottom edge of the strike zone.
The ball snapped into Paige’s glove, and that final blow snapped the last thinning rope of restraint inside her.
"Why are you lying?" Paige said, exasperation slipping through now. “I know you feel it too. Ever since Sheena, and then that girl you brought home, everything's been off.
"So now this is on me?" Azzi shot back. "Paige, if you think this all just started when Sheena transferred in, then you're the one lying to yourself."
Paige paused. A sliver of doubt arose before she could stop it. Had this thing been building longer than she'd realized? Had she just been late to notice?
She shook the questions out of her head and threw the ball again. "I don't know. I just want us to go back to normal. Friends."
Azzi scoffed out a strained laugh, and raised her glove.
“What’s so funny?” Paige asked.
“Friends,” Azzi quoted. “You think other teammates treat each other the way we do?”
It yanked Paige back into memories of their shared dinners cooked together instead of separately, of twin beds shoved side by side on away trips, of entire conversations carried in glances and sarcastic smiles in a secret code no one ever seemed to crack. Come to think of it, she couldn’t name any other two friends like that, and the realization made her feel foolish for ever missing it.
“Best friends, then,” she corrected easily, pleased with how fast she figured out a part of the mystery.
But apparently that wasn’t enough to satisfy Azzi. Once the pitcher caught the next throw, she glanced up at the clock to watch the minute hand tick past thirty. Without wasting another second, Azzi shed her mitt and stalked off to the equipment shed without a word.
Paige huffed and shook her head in disbelief. Didn’t Azzi remember they had to go in the exact same direction? They literally lived together. She jogged after the younger girl and caught her wrist just before she dumped her gear. Paige tugged Azzi to a stop, but the brunette didn’t turn around.
"So that's it?" Paige said. "You're just okay with this? We're going to lose, you know.”
"You're so focused on losing," Azzi murmured quietly, "that you can't see what's actually been breaking."
She turned against every better judgement, forcing herself to finally take in Paige’s downturned eyes and trembling lips, the offcuts of dwindling resolve holding her upright. She was all slack shoulders and despondent hesitation, like a kicked puppy waiting to see if she’d be turned away.
The sight stirred something deep down in Azzi’s gut that approached too close to pity for her liking. She forced herself not to fall back into the trap, grounding herself with a determined exhale through her nose. It almost resembled a laugh, but there was certainly no humour in it.
“We don’t act like friends, Paige. We never have.”
Paige swallowed dryly. The words hit like a foul ball straight to the ribs.
“And besides,” she continued, quieter now. “Friends don’t get mad every time the other lets someone else get close.”
"That's not-" she started, then stopped. She didn't know how to finish it.
"If we lose," Azzi took a step back, "it won't just be because we stopped playing well. It'll be because you're asking me to pretend we're something we've never been."
She walked away, leaving Paige alone on the edge of the field. For the first time, she had the sobering realisation that this was no longer a game she knew how to win.
Paige clenched her teeth together, fighting against the persistent burn that radiated through her thighs. The constraining padding along the inside of her helmet pressed tight into her aching temples. Sweat gathered inside the foam edge and itched along her scalp. Unfortunately, her right hand was set by her side and her left was stuck inside her mitt, so wiping it off was out of the question. She wiggled her toes so as to not focus on the irritating beads of perspiration that had fallen into to the outer edge of her eye.
The sun bore down without mercy, its blazes shooting off dirt and metal until it pressed directly into her skin. But all of it registered distantly. There was only one feeling that drowned them all; just one sensation that truly mattered:
Pressure.
Their team had battled tooth and nail all season in their push towards the Final National Championship game. Every match leading up to this point had ended in narrow margins, and all their wins came down to the wire. Players rode the bus home nursing scraped knees and massaging sore arms. That morning, each member walked onto the field knowing nothing was going to come easy.
Paige crouched behind home plate, her shin guards digging right into the dust. Her eyelids didn’t blink as she watched the UCLA batter bend into ready position.
It was only in tight moments like these, did the world truly narrow down. The booming of the crowd, the asthmatic wheezing of the umpire behind her, the oppositions endless chants. Every detail dissolved into a dull hum. Paige slanted her eyes behind her mask’s gridded facebar and solely focused on Azzi’s first breath.
She wound up methodically, then followed into a subtle twist of the joint at her wrist. Paige caught the tell at the exact moment before release, her fingers peeling back and up against the seams. The ball left Azzi’s hand a fraction earlier than the batter expected.
Paige didn’t need to think. She didn’t even need to look.
All driven by instinct, she positioned her glove at the ready in the open air where she already knew the pitch would fall.
The ball broke sharp and hard into a downwards snap, swerving the bat’s edge entirely.
Strike!
The umpire’s shout was satisfying and echoed around the field. But instead of relaxing, or simply throwing it back to the mound, Paige sighted another opportunity arising.
At the edge of her vision, she spotted the runner on first creeping sneakily over to second, in search for an opportunity to steal.
Paige didn’t waste a second. She exploded her thighs out of the crouch, squared her shoulders and fired the ball in a flat, vicious rocket, that shot straight to the inside edge of second base. Jana caught it easily, covered the ball with her free hand, and swept the tag down in one fluid motion as the runner desperately slid, bursting dust all around them.
The umpire raised his pointed finger. Out!
Cheers exploded through the dugout. Geno nodded once in approval while the bench erupted behind him, hands ferociously banging against the metal fence. Momentum pulsed from the stands all the way to the outfield.
But no one expected that it was all about to be ripped from right under their feet.
The next pitch dinged off the bat all wrong, too fast, and too unexpected. Paige barely had time to flinch before the ball slammed straight into her throat. Thankfully, her padded guard absorbed most of it, but the impact still knocked the air out from her lungs. She automatically clutched her stomach and slammed heavily to the ground. The entire field tilted on its head.
Azzi gasped as soon as the ball made contact and was already on the move even before it finished rolling away. She crossed the dirt in seconds and dropped to her knees beside Paige before anyone else had begun to react. Sheer panic wiped away every trace of the tension that had lived between them for weeks.
"Paige!” Azzi leaned down to inspect her throat. “Are you okay?"
Paige needed a few more seconds to suck oxygen back into her airways. Her breaths were shallow at first, then grew deeper, albeit painful.
"I'm fine," she forced out hoarsely, though it wasn’t as convincing as Azzi had hoped.
“Are you sure?” she checked. She helped Paige remove her mask and scanned over her face and neck, hovering her hands where she wasn’t sure if she could touch.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I can still play,” Paige tried to insist.
But every coach had watched the play unfold and clocked the speed at which the ball had slammed her to the ground. The decision was unarguable. She had to sit out.
The inning continued, and Paige was forced to watch it unfold from behind the metal fence. It took only a few plays for the threads to start unravelling. Azzi stepped up to the mound once again, but without Paige behind the plate, something essential was missing. Her pitches drifted wildly, and the relief catcher failed to read her once again. She wasn’t privy to any of Azzi and Paige’s signals, and as quick as it started, all the connection was broken.
Between each batter, Azzi paced the perimeter of the circle and exhaled her stewing doubt hotly through her nose. She adjusted her collar needlessly, despite having already done so minutes ago in the hopes that it might send some luck her way.
The events laid the proof out plain. The truth was simple and impossible to ignore. The synergy between Paige and Azzi didn’t come from familiarity alone, and they weren’t interchangeable pieces who just happened to had fallen into the same system. Apart, the team rattled into broken fragments around them. But together, they were more than just teammates; two halves of a whole.
Paige didn’t need the scoreboard to know their lead had dwindled down to one. They’d reached the bottom of the final inning, and UConn’s bats were all spent up. One run from UCLA would force extra innings. Two would end it outright.
As the team put down their helmets and picked up their mitts to head back out, Paige rose off the bench.
“I’m going back in,” she said, not asking for permission.
Geno looked at her for a heavy moment. It hurt him to say the words, but it was his duty to prioritize his players’ health. “You’re hurt. Sit back down.”
“Coach, this is the championship,” Paige pressed harder. “I have to.”
The image of his catcher getting knocked in the throat replayed in his mind, and every sense of logic told him to refuse. But the dugout drummed with restless energy, suspense packed so tight it felt ready to explode spontaneously straight up into the bleachers. The hunger for the win was almost thick enough to touch. No one was ready to walk away without the trophy.
Geno took it all in, then nodded once.
Paige jumped at the chance before he could say another word. She slammed her vest on with practiced speed and slapped Geno’s shoulder on the way out.
“We’re getting you that win tonight, coach.”
Azzi was running through her warm up routine steered purely by autopilot. She shuffled into place, scuffing her cleats into the dirt, then rolled her shoulder and tested her grip. The movements were less for practice and more an attempt to slow her racing heart. She glanced at the scoreboard, then dried her sweaty hand on her pants, checked her palm, then wiped it again.
She walked through every possible remedy for her shaky anxiety, but her usual routine fell short. She searched into the future and could only picture each pitch falling short or sailing too high above the strike zone.
Cold doubt threatened to drown her lungs. The score weighed heavily as it knocked and banged around the back of her mind. Their slim lead felt so fragile in her hands, as though the singular point was already slipping through her fingers like sand.
“I can do this, I can do this, I can do th-”
“You can do this.”
She looked up sharply.
Instead of the relief catcher, Paige stood right in front of her, already suited up in her gear that fit like a second skin. Her catcher’s mask dangled from one hand, and with the other she wrapped around Azzi’s shoulder firmly, pulling them together and anchoring her amid the noise.
“UCLA thinks they’re about to watch us crack,” Paige spoke quietly, just loud enough so the two of them could hear. “But you’re about to prove them all wrong.”
Azzi looked at her with shocked, wide eyes. “Paige? You shouldn’t be playi-”
“We’re getting three outs. Right now.” Her voice was so, so solid– firm enough to knock on the door of every tower of doubt.
Still, the bleed of Azzi’s uncertainty was too fierce that even Paige’s words struggled to stem it. “I don’t know if-”
Paige stepped in closer until their heads nearly touched. The proximity blocked out the roar of the crowd.
“You’re the number one pitcher in the country, so act like it. Let’s take this one home.”
Without waiting for a reply, Paige jammed her mask back on, gave Azzi’s shoulder one final, solid squeeze, then jogged back to her place at the tip of the diamond.
UCLA sent their first batter up. #21 stepped her back foot into the box and measured her distance from the plate. She adjusted her grip on the bat handle, bent her knees, and flicked a glance towards first base, already mapping her trajectory for the sprint the moment she made contact.
Azzi released a slow exhale, her breath deep and steady and void of any tremor. She toed the edge of the rubber and the entire world narrowed to the forty-three feet between where she stood on the mound and the girl crouched behind the home plate. UCLA’s crowd clapped and chanted around her, but the noise melted away. Despite standing physically alone, she was not by herself. Paige’s firm voice stayed with her. You can do this.
Azzi observed #21 sink into a low stance, then signal ready with a slide of her foot into the box. You’re about to prove them all wrong.
She drew in one final breath, lined her fingers along the seams, then snapped her arm forwards, unleashing her infamous fastball. It rode high, and snapped right into the pocket of Paige’s mitt with a deafening crack that cut through the diamond.
That first pitch was more than a strike. It was an exact echo of what Paige had said earlier. We’re getting three outs. Right here, right now.
The second batter stepped into the chalk and readied the bat for her third attempt. Azzi looked to her left: no runner on first. She looked back to home plate: Paige, crouched as expected. But instead of her usual positioning, her glove saddled the outer edge of home, angled off to the side rather than centered.
That signal was so subtle, but just visible enough that it spoke clearly to Azzi. Once she noticed it, everything else surfaced into focus. The batter’s toes were itching forwards onto the plate, closing her stance. Her back elbow was bent tight, her wrists were cocked into her body, and her feet were stationed right on the line.
Paige might as well have been holding up a glowing sign saying “pitch away, aim outside!”
Like responding to a message, Azzi breathed in deep, gathered herself, and then drove the ball to the outside edge of the plate, exactly where Paige was waiting. It landed true.
Strike! Two outs. One to go.
The final batter walked up, and Azzi gulped. From the previous innings, she knew this was the toughest in UCLA’s lineup– formidable and more than capable of hammering a home run to push the game into extra innings. She had studied Azzi all game. It was obvious; if not for the beady eyes that stuck to her like persistent cobwebs, then for the way she translated Azzi’s every micro-movement into a tell before the ball ever left her hand. Even when Azzi varied her pitches, the batter matched them, smashing balls deep into the outfield with far too much spin for UConn’s fielders to catch on the full.
After two lucky pitches, Azzi managed to set two strikes between them.
It wouldn't be enough to just pitch low, and aiming high was too dangerous. The batter’s agile reactions and adaptable limbs meant Azzi and her trusty fastball were outmatched.
She would have to pull out something completely different. Let’s take this one home.
Azzi let go of all the gathered strategy she’d been collecting throughout the game and trusted her instincts to take over. She wound up, windmilled her arm around for the perfect arch, and aimed straight for Paige. As it left her hand, she didn’t calculate for spin, or try to cheat the pitch away from the barrel. The throw carried nothing more than a sacrament of her heart and trust, stitched into the seams and released with the flying spin of leather.
The ball screamed into the center of Paige’s mitt with the sound of a locked door.
Strike three.
The stands exploded into straight chaos, screams raining onto the field. The UConn team sprinted into the middle of the diamond and crashed together as they were crowned back to back to back champions. But finally between Paige and Azzi, across all forty three feet, everything settled blessedly into place.
Gloves that had been thrown in celebration were raining from the sky; it was miraculous none of them seemed to hit her. The whole team was huddled so closely together, with their arms thrown around shoulders, all tangled in a tight pack. The huddle jumped about in messy fashion, pushing the flashing cameras left and right until it was almost impossible to make it to the girl she needed to find most.
Amidst all the celebration, Paige didn’t wait for the motion to slow before she began to move. Her eyes stayed fixed on Azzi’s face, and like a force from above heard her pleas, a pathway opened for her to beeline across the field.
She tucked her fingers to curl under Azzi’s jersey, then drew her in and guided her into the tunnel without a word. As they walked deeper, the volume of the stadium faded behind them until all they could hear were each other’s steps.
Not knowing where Paige was taking them, Azzi took this opportunity to speak.
“You scared me,” she said as they walked. Her voice was quiet and croaky, vocal cords torn raw from all the chanting the match had demanded from her.
Paige ignored that. Her breathing had yet to even out, and her chest was still wound up tight with adrenaline and something deeper coursing through her. Once they rounded the corner, just beyond the light, she pulled them to a stop. She turned on her foot to face Azzi, her catcher’s mask still hanging from one hand.
“You were wrong.”
Whatever Azzi thought Paige would say after their big win, it definitely wasn’t that. The pitcher frowned slightly, and was quick to respond, fueled by the rush of the moment. “What?”
“That night, under the stars,” Paige spoke. “When you asked if this game hardens you, if it makes you less capable of loving anything outside of it.” She took a small step closer. “It doesn’t. I promise you, it doesn’t. It… it teaches you what’s worth fighting for. Who you wouldn’t want to win without.”
Azzi’s next inhale got caught in her throat, making her trip through her next breath. “P…”
“You were wrong about something else as well,” Paige whispered, speaking the truth out loud and allowing the weight to fall off her shoulders. “I was never disgusted that she liked you. I could never think that, Az. I was just so terrified you liked her back. This entire thing between us– yeah, it’s the most honest thing I’ve ever felt, and I always knew that. But you woke me up to the fact that it’s more than just you being my best friend. I don’t want to pretend it’s just friendship anymore. You and me? Us in sync? That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever known.”
Paige took in a deep breath of air once her confession ceased, the long spew of words clearly sucked all the air out of her. For a second she was afraid Azzi would jumble the words the wrong way.
But she didn’t step away.
Azzi shook her head instead, in a slow left to right like she couldn’t believe it. Her mouth twitched into a smile like the tension of the game had finally eased off from between her shoulder blades. All the pressure from the seventh inning, the crowd, the batting lineup all fell into the mist, and unveiled the light at the end of the tunnel.
“It’s about time you noticed,” Azzi said softly. “Come here.”
She reached out and bunched Paige’s shirt in her fist before pulling her in close until their chests pressed together. Her eyes flickered to the blonde’s mouth before she tilted her head and crashed their lips together. They moved without rush, simply enjoying the shared taste of adrenaline and victory on exploring tongues. There was no urgency as they kept finding their way back to each other, lips slotting together again and again. The shared relief of finally getting a taste of each other left their heads dizzy, spinning from how long they’d waited for this moment, far longer than either of them wanted to admit.
When they pulled back, their foreheads rested together, and the rumble of the stadium rose to a distant hum again. Azzi traced her thumb along a raised vein on the inside of Paige’s wrist, feeling the frantic pulse settle under her touch.
Then all of a sudden, Paige stiffened.
“What?” Azzi asked, already smiling.
“Fuck,” Paige whispered. She jerked back just enough to reach into her duffle back and pull out her phone. “I just realized I have to do something.” Her thumbs flew over her keyboard, jaw clenched in concentration. “Just lemme finish this, and then I’m all yours.”
Azzi peeked over her shoulder. “Are you seriously doing this right now?”
r/softball
UPDATE: AITA for sending my teammate to the hospital?
Submitted by u/catchermyballsac5
So first things first. Fuck you to everyone who responded.
I was shocked at first when my post blew up with as much attention as it did. I even had to mute this app when my PMs got flooded with people yelling at me to get my head out of my ass. Far too many of you called me jealous, a bitch, and an oblivious motherfucker (those were the more PG, and much less creative examples). Who knew there were so many kind, and giving people who are ready to share their scathing opinions of me during my desperate time of need!
Next time I have a problem, I will no longer take to the internet for advice or emotional support. It’s clear not a single one of you has any ounce of compassion, empathy or tact in your rotten hearts.
Okay now that I’ve gotten all of my notices out of the way:
5.2K! • WNBA Paige x Model Azzi • MDNI • masc!Paige, fem!Azzi, poorly concealed down-bad behavior (on both sides), dom!Paige, sub!Azzi, past implied sex (or*l, A.receiving), reference to m*sturbation, teasing, dirty-talk, f*ngering (A.receiving), implied or*l (A.receiving), fade-to-black ending.
☆ had to come back for this. first wlw fic on here!
𑁍ུ ࣭ ࣭ ࣪⠀𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑵 𝑰𝑺 𝑹𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑳𝑬𝑺𝑺. It bakes every surface it touches. Waves of heat lift from the parking lot’s black asphalt, distorting reality at the base of her windshield. It’s the kind of heat that snuffs out almost every bit of oxygen from the atmosphere. It’s dry, thick and hugging.
Paige inhales deeply. The sharp scent of Black Ice stings her lungs as they take in the cool air.
This Urus is her aegis, blasting her with all of the AC she could ever need and want; darks tints shield her pale skin from the belligerent UV.
Blonde lashes sweep the gentle slopes of her cheeks with every sleepy blink as she sighs through flared nostrils, shifting in her seat again to sit up straighter.
The car isn’t completely silent. A song from her rap playlist—one recently added—whispers to her through the speakers. For a second, it’s drowned out by the sharp kiss of her teeth.
“C’mon…”
She’s careless in the way she snatches her phone up from the console; her fingers stretching to squeeze the bottom corners of the case-less device to merely glance at the time.
Twenty minutes.
Wetting her bottom lip, she unlocks the device, holding it more securely in-hand as she opens her messages. Over a thousand unread texts. And she ignores them all the same for one of the three chats she has pinned: Fudd 🐰
The clear gel on her thumb glistens gently as it swipes over her keyboard. She presses send without thinking too hard:
‘Would’ve already left if I didn’t fwu’
She watches her message shoot up, get delivered, then counts the seconds in between until it’s read.
Nine, by the way.
Bubbles appear on the other side of their chat. Bouncing, taunting her for two seconds too long.
‘I’ll take longer if you want.’
A weak scoff falls from her nose as she looks away from her screen, barely smirking with the shake of her head.
“Fuckin’ ridiculous.”
Reaching a hand up, she rakes her dull nails through the gentle waves of her hair, reaching deep to scratch at her scalp. All the while, that same thumb swipes over the keyboard.
‘I’m falling asleep waiting up on u’
She picks at the drying skin on her bottom lip with her teeth as she watches those bubbles bounce again. She tries not to think about how the corners of her mouth quirk up, waiting to see what she’ll say.
‘5 more mins’
The message pulls a heavy groan from her throat. She drags her hand from her hair to rub at one of her eyes, the cold air making her lash line ache.
She wants to argue back, but that would cause a rift in her façade. Azzi would ask of the reason for her rushing. And, slightly embarrassed, Paige wouldn’t have an answer for her.
Admittedly, she doesn’t have anything to do after this. Nothing planned, anyway. She’s already had her training session, in the gym before the sun could rise to greet Cali’s residents.
It’s off season. No obligations or responsibilities; rest is her right. No media outlet, blog, or tea page is going to see her—not if she can help it.
But, it isn’t lost on her that she’s replaced the demands of her career with catching this pretty model off-duty.
Azzi Fudd.
They met at a campaign shoot for Marc Jacobs just shy of two months ago.
She spotted the golden-skinned woman first, skin dewy even before the makeup team applied her foundation. She was particularly paying attention when they applied a tinted lip gloss to her.
Paige remembers mentally waxing poetic, likening her lips to flower petals. Open, pliant, and soft.
She also remembers the way the bottom lip bounced with each pet of the wand as the makeup artist perfected her lip combo.
Pretty as fuck.
They never shot together, the shoot coordinators electing for Paige to be the main focus of the ad; she only ever shot by herself.
However, she caught a glimpse of Azzi on her way out. In the middle of a shoot with the other models, she stood out. No doubt, she was all Paige could look at—if that hinted at her beauty (she thinks very highly of her taste in women). But, it was also her height.
She knew immediately she couldn’t pass up the chance—by the end of the day, she had Azzi’s Instagram handle.
The last time they spoke, it was over the phone. It’s been about a week. Looking at the other woman’s location, she was barely surprised to see her contact floating around in Greece on the map.
She’d never been more jealous of a country than before.
“Tuesday is my least packed day,” she remembers Azzi saying over the impromptu FaceTime call.
The phone’s screen bathed her face in a soft glow. A cotton tee was wrapped around her hair, sopping up the excess water in her curls as she sat before the phone in a crisp, white towel robe.
Paige had caught her right after a shower.
“Tell me about it.” She glanced at the phone, propped up against an open bottle of Saratoga water resting on her coffee table, before looking back at her TV screen.
Yet again, a controller was in her clutches as she leaned forward, eyes on the game—Fortnite of course. And she hadn’t escaped Azzi’s light scrutiny about it either.
“Well, first thing is Pilates at eleven—“
She scoffed.
Azzi paused. “I don’t see what’s funny.”
A light shrug lifts her shoulders, a frown of indifference on her pink lips as she scrolls through the character selection of the game. “You’re doing all that when you could just pick up a sport. ‘Least it’ll be fun.”
“Right…” Paige can tell she had rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I have lunch with an old friend afterwards. Then I have to go to a fitting for an upcoming shoot.”
“So … I can’t see you, then.”
She didn’t see the way Azzi looked at her with a raised brow. “Not with that attitude.”
Her tongue swiped against her bottom lip, a poor attempt to stop herself from breaking out into a grin.
“A’ight then…” Her hands dropped to her lap, still clutching the white controller, as she finally gave her full attention to the phone. “Lemme come get you.”
The other brow raised to meet its perfect sister. “From where?” Azzi laughed, the perfect sound tumbling out past her lips.
“Your lil’ Pilates class. Could go back to your place and chill before you get lunch with your friend—what time did you say that was?”
With pursed lips—that look oh-so-kissable—Azzi looked her up and down through the screen. “Two.”
Picking up her controller, Paige recentered her focus on the TV once more.
“Bet.”
She didn’t need to look to know there was a satisfied grin on Azzi’s face.
In remembering all of this, Paige settles for Azzi’s promise. She managed to wait a week to see the woman, what is five extra minutes?
Besides, she would rather allow Azzi to believe that she’s rushing her for the sake of adhering to some strict, imaginary schedule instead of letting on how eager she is to see her.
So for the next three and a half minutes—but who’s really counting—Paige begrudgingly scrolls through her TikTok’s “For You” page to pass the time.
And even when her attention is arrested by whatever trend the app decides to make viral this week, she spots that figure yards away. Her head remains pointed downwards at her screen, yet her eyes follow Azzi’s body from the door of the Pilates studio to her car.
There’s a quiet ease and strength that she walks with; she’s a model in every sense of the word.
Before Azzi can touch the car—just within arm’s reach of it—Paige stretches over to push the passenger door open. The action comes as no surprise to her. Instead, she slides right into her designated seat within the Lambo.
“Ugh, that’s where I left my clip,” she notes, spotting the baby pink hibiscus clip resting in one of the cup holders between them.
Paige hums. “Yeah, you left it from last time.”
There’s minor shifting as Azzi pushes her bag to the ground and settles it in the space between her feet. “Thank you—for keeping it safe.”
“Yeah, well you better get it. It’s been throwing off the whole aesthetic of my car.”
“What, a single bachelorette too obsessed with Fortnite to go out and touch grass?”
Her dry sarcasm has never had much of an effect on Azzi. And Paige must admit, it’s a turn-on.
The corner of her mouth quirks up at her reply. “Pink flowers don’t belong in here.”
She won’t admit that she’s been using the clip when she felt too needy about Azzi during her absence.
“If you’re picking up other girls in this car, just say that, Paige.”
She looks over in time to catch the tail-end of a lazy shrug. There’s still remnants of a smirk on Paige’s lips as her eyes run over her figure.
Poised and patient, yet there’s a quiet energy stirring beneath the surface. She can’t claim to know everything about Azzi, but she knows just enough about the woman to know better than to assume she made that joke in good faith.
“Stop playin’.” She looks ahead again as she shifts the gear to get out of the parking spot. “You look good though … I like red on you,” she mumbles.
It briefly crosses Azzi’s mind how she had the star basketball player pick out her outfit earlier this morning over text. A hum is the only acknowledgement she gives the compliment as she watches her maneuver out of the spot with ease.
“Why’d you pick this place … it’s so out the way from your crib.” Paige enters traffic, starting on the route to Azzi’s LA apartment—no GPS needed.
“Are you complaining?”
The dent made between her brows only appears for a second as she shakes her head, right hand raised to hover over her lips as she drives with the left.
“Never. Just curious…”
Azzi’s silence bids her to glance the model’s way. Their gazes meet for a split second before Paige’s dips for an even shorter amount of time. Turning her attention back to the road, she shifts in her seat with another quick lick of her lips.
And so, Azzi remembers how what’s bared of her chest is covered in a light sheen of sweat. Nevertheless, she looks at the road ahead. “I like the travel.”
A scoff. “When you get driven.”
She shrugs, a sly smile stretching her mouth. “What can I say? I’m a passenger princess.”
Silence floats between the two women. In this space, Azzi finally gets to realize which of Paige’s playlists she’s got on. Reaching forward, her manicured hand reaches out to turn up the volume by a few decibels.
And when the lyrics finally hit her ears, she can only laugh. “Uh—really?”
Paige glances at her, face open with a question. “What?”
Azzi nods over to the stereo, and Paige finally realizes the song playing: 41’s Pilates.
She cracks a smile. Her free hand raises with a half-made shrug. “Coincidence.”
Shaking her head, brown curls that had escaped her messy high bun dance around her temples.
“Shit … they not wrong though,” she smirks, looking the other woman up and down as she turns up the volume some more.
𑁍ུ ࣭ ࣭ ࣪ Arriving at Azzi’s apartment was a relief for the two of them. Really Azzi, more than Paige.
She beelined for the fridge. The kind that’s stainless steel and has a touchscreen to see its contents without having to open the door and waste energy. And it’s undoubtedly stocked with neat rows of bottled water, yogurts, chopped fruit, and a small six-pack of Blood Orange flavored San Pelligrino for the occasional treat.
Paige can only wish for half of that kind of self-discipline when it came to food.
Its contents clank softly as Azzi yanks a door open to pull out an icey bottle of water.
She doesn’t even pour it out into a cup, as Paige knows her for. Instead she stands before the open fridge, guzzling down the cool drink without a pause for breath, such that her muscles don’t even get the chance to relax.
Arms crossed against her chest, Paige moves to lean against the lip of the kitchen island. Crossing one ankle over the other, the lengthy lanyard of her car keys dangles from her pocket. Its highlighter-yellow stands out against the sable color of her sweats.
No one’s ever made drinking water look this good. Azzi’s throat bobs with every repeated swallow. Her gulps are quiet, the clicking of her clenching throat muted.
She doesn’t even realize how her body mirrors the action, her own throat bobbing in imitation with a single swallow. She’s reminded of how dry her mouth is.
Her chin bounces softly each time a gulp of water slides down her throat. It’s funny, Paige notes, how her jaw does that same movement when she drinks from her.
Azzi’s chest barely moves. The line of muscles in her stomach has softened some since she left the class, but the pump is still there. The reminder lies present in the popped hip, the round curve of her backside perched above a flexed thigh.
How many times is Paige going to lick her lips before she remembers her chapstick in her left pocket?
Even in her desperation to hydrate, Azzi isn’t oblivious. She’s used to being stared at—way past that. And yet, her skin’s never burned hotter under that cool blue gaze and blonde lashes.
Goosebumps ripple across her skin. Finally, she pulls the almost empty bottle away from her pinked lips. She wipes at them with the back of her hand even though not a single drop of water had escaped.
“Nah, don’t stop now.”
What was supposed to be an easygoing, light chuckle, came out sounding parched and desperate. It doesn’t escape either of their notice.
Continuing, Paige nods to the plastic bottle in Azzi’s loose grip. She clears her throat. “You only got like … two swallows left.”
Lower lip caught between her teeth, Azzi gives her a quick once-over. A black sweatsuit in the summer time is ridiculous, yet she can’t find it in herself to rag on her outfit. It’s so—Paige. Nevertheless, she outstretches her arm, open bottle in hand.
“Looks like you might need the rest.”
Paige’s jaw shifts as she licks a molar. Azzi tries—and fails—to hide her growing smirk, clearly thinking so highly of her wit.
Stiffly, the taller of them shakes her head. “Not thirsty for water.”
The grin slips from that slick mouth.
Will she bite at it, Paige wonders.
Azzi brings the bottle back towards herself, choosing instead to gaze into it. “Juice?” She presses the bottle’s opening to her lips again, knocking back its dregs.
—A quiet snort.
“Nah.”
When Azzi pulls the empty bottle away, she has no choice but to see the blue fire in her eyes.
Her skin is hot.
Clearing her throat, she turns away from Paige to dunk the bottle in the recycling can hidden in a nearby cabinet. She moves quick, enough that she doesn’t give her much time to stare at her ass, straightening to stand immediately after.
“You’ll be fine in the living room? I gotta shower.”
She’s already making her way out of the kitchen before Paige can object to being alone.
The blonde only smirks, watching her retreat to safety.
𑁍ུ ࣭ ࣭ ࣪⠀Much like when she picked her up, there remains that rosy flush in Azzi’s skin.
Shorter curls at her hairline stick to her shiny skin, the greater mass of her hair pulled back into a low bun.
It’s not slicked back, noting the faint bumps of her curls against her scalp. Frizzy strands float around the perimeter of her head’s shape like a halo.
Paige likes this more than its sleek version.
But she forgets all about her inane preferences for Azzi’s hair when she caught sight of those strong legs, flowing out of a way-too-cheeky pair of shorts reserved only for the home.
Azzi had found her sitting on the loveseat, head buried in her phone. That was, until her own steps seemed to rat her out.
The other woman pulled her head too quickly out of whatever she was watching, to see Azzi.
Now, staring at her emergence from the barely lit hallway, Paige gives a simple, easing smile.
Azzi felt her shoulders relax some. She wasn’t sure what state she’d find her in. But, as she assumed it would be, her time in the shower was good for the both of them.
Paige speaks first.
“Thought you missed me.”
Confusion flashes gently across Azzi’s face. It’s cute. “In the shower?”
She stands, her height less of a statement with all of this space between them.
“You haven’t touched me since I seen you.”
Opening her mouth to respond, laughter tumbles out first.
“No hug, no kiss,” Paige continues. “Not even a push to the shoulder.”
She smirks, Azzi laughs a little harder.
“If you were so desperate to be touched, all you had to do was ask.”
The playful jab doesn’t offset her. Paige only smiles wider. As her laughter dies away, matched stares linger. There’s a second of stillness.
Silently, Paige plucks her hands from the deep pockets of her sweats, and throws her arms open.
The bed of her chest, covered in a way too expensive hoodie, is enticing. She’s patient. Doesn’t beckon her over. Doesn’t even say “c’mere.” She just waits.
There’s an evil thought in Azzi’s head, as she imagines leaving her hanging. Only to see her reaction.
Then she glances at her chest again, looking deceptively flat beneath her sweater. And—when was the last time they touched?
Her feet move her forward. Not much information really registers in her brain until she’s got her arms around Paige’s torso and her head in her neck.
Their bodies melt together. Azzi allows herself to be cradled as those strong arms squeeze her tight.
“You gonna say it?”
Another piece of laughter vaults from her mouth, the sound muffled by Paige’s hoodie. “Not before you.”
Now it’s Paige’s turn to laugh. “A’ight, then … I missed you.”
She feels her cheeks burn with a growing smile as she keeps her face tucked. “Might’ve … missed you too,” she says, her soft voice muffled.
“Mmh, right.”
Trying to keep herself from smiling any harder, Paige aggressively bites at her bottom lip. Still, the expression managers to slip through. She knows she must look like an idiot right now.
Her hands rub up and down Azzi’s back, keeping her there long enough so that she can wrestle her own expression back under control.
It’s Azzi that pulls away first. And even as she tries to put some space between them, Paige lets her touch linger; she knots their fingers together.
Nervous laughter bubbles from Azzi. Paige finds it a feat of her own that she’s able to recognize it, even more so that she seems to be the only one to get the model acting this way.
Without a doubt, the feeling was brought on by the way Paige had looked at her once she pulled away: eyes low, face barely flushed, and mouth caught in a lazy smile.
“What time d’you say you gotta meet your friend?”
“Soon, Paige,” Azzi laughs again.
Her fingers unknot themselves from Azzi’s, passively crawling up her arm to wrap softly around her wrist.
“How soon is ‘soon?’”
“Oh my God—” Azzi can’t stop giggling as she’s tugged closer.
“What?”
Paige’s smile widens as she gets her close enough to wrap an arm around Azzi’s waist this time. There’s a hand pressed to her chest.
“Paige.”
“Azzi,” she mocks, eyes widening for a split second as stares into the other woman’s pretty brown eyes.
“I said soon.” She can’t stop herself from smiling.
“I heard you,” she nods, voice going softer.
“Well—I’m sore.” She chokes, pushing against her chest some. “Class was a-a lot—” Her gaze falls to the wayside as she tries not to notice the way Paige is staring at her lips form words.
Paige nods. “Mmh.”
“My legs were literally shaking—so much.”
Her face gravitates closer to Azzi’s.
“I swear—“ Her voice seems to walk on a tightrope, not enough expertise to walk in a straight line without teetering. “I almost passed out.”
The gentle breeze of a clipped snort fans over her face. She looks back at Paige’s face to see that cocky smirk stretching out her lips.
First, she was burning up. Now, she feels herself drowning under her stare.
Paige throws her a lifeline.
“Could give you a massage.”
Despite that long drink of water earlier, Azzi finds her mouth growing dry. “Are you certified to do that?”
“Nah, but with hands like these, a license’s not changing anything.”
The spell is broken, and just enough self-assuredness floods back into Azzi’s system for her to roll her eyes.
𑁍ུ ࣭ ࣭ ࣪⠀Soft skin stretches over the expanse of hard muscle, barely flexing as she sits up on her elbows. Pointed and painted toes make her calves and thighs look carved out of stone.
They’ve taken to the couch, a spread of long limbs, blushed cheeks, and less than perfectly situated hair.
The air isn’t as thick as outside’s. In here, Paige can breathe better. In here, the only thing that fills her lungs is the smell of Azzi. She’s everywhere, almost; in her thoughts, in the air, beneath her fingertips.
Paige wishes her presence extended to the inside of her mouth. Her tongue writhes against her teeth and the walls of her cheeks, desperate to get a taste.
“I thought you said you were good at this.”
The drawl of Azzi’s words rouse her from her mind.
“I am,” she smiles, brows barely creased in confusion.
“You sure?” She raises a brow. “You’ve just been staring, lost, for the last minute.”
A roll of the eyes. “Didn’t say I was lost.”
“Well, usually when people know what to do, they do the thing.”
Paige presses her lips into a thin line as she pulls a foot into her lap. “I can’t admire you?”
Azzi offers a pointed look. “You can admire and massage at the same time.”
“I can take longer if you want.”
Her eyes bounce between Paige’s own before narrowing, her own words coming back to her. A closed-lipped grin plants itself on Paige’s lips right before a faint chuckle drifts past them.
“Just kidding.”
Any other jokes and thoughts are kept tucked in her mouth for safekeeping as her fingers take up the load of working through the thick muscle.
They knead with the expertise of a thousand after-practice routines, pushing out the burn of lactic acid leftover in her body.
Good news is her body isn’t too tight, there isn’t much work that Paige has to do to ease the ache.
There’s a silent effort to keep her gaze locked on the ceiling. Azzi almost suffocates, trying to keep herself from breathing too loud or too fast. Anything that hints at the idea of Paige’s touch having an effect on her.
But the seams start to burst, one by one, like they’re being plucked by a pair of tweezers named Paige Bueckers.
When the last one pops—Paige’s ascent to her thigh—a strangled whimper, twisted in all of it’s ways, slips from her lips as she fails to keep it at bay.
“That hurt.” Azzi's voice wobbles.
Except, the pain isn’t something she minds. No, not at all. Paige only blinks, swallowing to keep down a truth she knows too well.
Her movements turn robotic as her mind takes her back to the last time she’d been at this apartment:
“Don’t bite too hard,” Azzi gasped. “I-I have a swimwear ad tomorrow.”
The words sounded like they hurt to say. Azzi was caught staring down at her with eyes so low and unfocused, Paige almost thought she wasn’t even speaking to her. And she herself was laid between those golden brown, muscular legs, teeth bared to the skin of her inner left thigh.
Even with the occasional haze of a resurfacing memory, Paige takes her time with Azzi. She always does. Her hands squeeze and roll the fat and muscle of her leg like it’s a fruit—only applying just enough pressure to tenderize, but not to pop.
At her sides, Azzi’s fingers twitch against the linen of the couch. Every deep inhale she takes is either disrupted by a break in breath or a swallow. It’s better than letting out a whine.
When pale fingers, deft and precise, target the inner thigh, a mewl claws at her throat to be released. She doesn’t let it.
Neither of them speak. Not even Paige when it hits her: an earthy-sweet, but gentle, musk that curls over her shoulders and around her neck like a Marabou feather boa. Its touch is whispering—slipping through her fingers whenever she touches it, yet its ghost remains on her skin.
She’s craved scent after the first time she had it. Sometimes, in the haste of her everyday life, she’ll catch the barest hint of it. Always, it triggers a memory. And, always, her body reacts, bearing down on nothing as it remembers the slip of Azzi’s wetness on her skin.
She glances up into mink-brown eyes before she dares herself to peak between those parted legs. Didn’t need to maneuver much—if at all—to see the press of her cunt against thin fabric. Full and begging to be noticed.
To be acknowledged.
It’s amusing, Azzi’s coyness, in the same way that it is incredulous. A woman, so confident and teasing, yet willing to hide her desire—behind a thin veil, at that.
She wants it to be found; what other conclusion is Paige supposed to draw?
Her hands move higher.
Azzi stiffens.
Their eyes meet.
The tips of Paige’s fingers are warm as they slip beneath the hem of the shorts. Azzi’s lips part, puffing out a single breath as her legs fall apart.
“Did you really?” Paige’s voice comes out, raw and parched. Still thirsty. “Miss me?”
Azzi presses her mouth into a thin line before nodding.
One finger, the middle, swipes up the trace of her inner lips where they peak out past the outer ones. “How much?”
Blood blooms beneath the skin of her chest. She clenches. “A lot.”
Another swipe, more pressure this time.
Paige shakes her head, bottom lip nipped by her teeth. “That's not enough, Az.”
Her words are mumbled.
The room spins around Azzi. Heat pricks at random spots all over her body. Already, her skin grows clammy with the promise of a light sweat. She almost chokes on her own spit.
Paige runs her finger through the seam of Azzi's lips, drenching the tip of it in her slick. Her pace is slow—daunting. She presses in deeper.
"I ... I—" One hand stutters as she just barely stops herself from reaching out for Paige. "Um, Greece—I ... th-thought about you."
"You did?"
Her nod is loose and impatient. “A-a lot.”
Another finger; the ring. They gather at her clit, slippery and throbbing with its own pulse. They move together in circles; pressing, pressing, pressing—
“E-every night—in my h-hotel room..." Her hips twitch.
Paige waits for more, aegean-blue eyes rolling over her dewey face as her fingers keep moving. Her gaze zeroes-in on the way her two front teeth graze the skin at her bottom lip.
She wants to kiss her. Everywhere.
There's a whimper, Azzi's shoulders jump. "In bed..."
Her fingers dip low again, toying with the idea of pushing inside. Paige pushes her face closer.
"Say it." Her lips hover just over the corner's of Azzi's. "C'mon."
Her lips open and close with quiet gulps for air. "I ... I ... I touched—"
A gasp, so sharp it cut through the air. Paige wouldn't deny her anymore. She couldn't.
"Keep going."
She doesn't think too much about the way her thighs squeeze around her arm or the way Azzi's eyes barely keep open. Instead, she feeds on what it means for such a reaction when all she's given are shallow, gentle strokes.
"I, um—touched myself."
Paige only has to turn her head a fraction of an inch for their lips to connect. She actually pauses to focus on the kiss. It's heavy, the way she presses her mouth against Azzi's. The model can only succumb to it.
Movement returns, and Paige doesn't stop to focus on only one thing this time. Beneath her body, Azzi's own melts.
Before her brain can catch up, Paige's mouth veers onto a different path. She's moving lower; the side of her mouth, her chin, and a small spot below her ear.
"Wanna know how much I missed you?"
Azzi nods, forgetting how to form words.
Paige pulls away to look her in the eyes.
"Yes," she exhales.
There's a sudden loss within her as Paige pulls out, but Azzi doesn't get to whine about it. Her body is quickly sated with caresses to her clit again.
"If you didn't go to shower," Paige starts, voice nearly hoarse. "I would'a got you."
Pretty lashes bat back at her. Then, breathless laughter flutters out from Azzi's mouth. "I was sweaty, Paige—unh."
The sound that comes out of her is soft and whiney, her face falling as Paige pushes back into her.
Her fingers are enveloped in a tight, syrupy embrace. When Paige finds her G-spot, she never lets up on it. Middle and ring fingers—in union—start gently at her. But it doesn't last long. The pressure grows firm as she rubs into her.
Azzi crumbles around her. Paige takes the chance to push her face into the crook of her neck as she mumbles into her clammy skin two words:
"Don't care."
The confession makes the model shudder. Somewhere at the back of her mind, her brain acknowledges Paige's teeth bared against it in a smile.
"Didn't fuck with no one else while you were gone," she says softer, barely shaking her head. "Only wanted you, Azzi." She presses her lips to her skin, momentarily cooling the searing hot surface. "You."
The deep crawl of her voice has her fluttering around Paige.
"Would've ate you like you were the first meal I had in years."
Azzi wants to laugh, too familiar with Paige's tendency to become hyperbolic in moments like these. However, she's too busy trying to catch her breath to even express her amusement.
"You are."
Something close to a cry weasels its way out of her.
Paige's hand is drenched; it's driving her crazy. Especially when she sees the growing wet spot in Azzi's shorts.
Her own boxers are a mess, she can feel it every time she shifts in her seat.
She presses her lips to the shell of Azzi's ear. Her hair smells faintly of the products she always uses: a perfumed fruitiness.
Themes: exes-to-lovers, angst (like bad), like a little fluff because you earned it
Warnings: idek bro just language I think
Synopsis: Paige (in shambles) makes a poor decision. Or a good one. Depends on what you're rooting for.
A/N: I know this is a long time coming. Thank you to everyone who is still around to read this. This was supposed to be much longer, but I have to break it up or I'll just never finish. Chapter 6 so soon, I'm serious. Not proof read per usual.
Word count: 13k
Present Day - June 2029 Dallas, TX
Azzi
Azzi didn’t really want to go out. Not after such an exhausting game. The Fever game, sure, but she meant a different game.
Paige had wrecked her more than basketball ever could. We can try friends, she said. Like it was a simple ask. Like it wasn’t a slow bleed. Azzi agreed, only because she felt like Paige needed to hear it. Not because she believed it. Not because it felt survivable.
Azzi managed to maintain the composure she’d been borrowing all week until she was safely inside her own apartment, but as soon as the front door shut behind her, it all fell apart. She leaned back against the door and slid all the way down to the floor, her bag and keys clattering beside her.
She pressed the heel of her hand into one eye. Then the other. The tears came anyway. Hot, furious, humiliating. Azzi hated crying. Hated that Paige could still reduce her to this without even trying.
She dragged in a shaky breath and let it out through her nose, shoulders curling inward as the ache in her chest finally demanded to be felt. Friends. The word echoed again, sour and egregiously inadequate. It felt like being asked to amputate a part of her and call it healing.
Azzi swiped at her face with the sleeve of her hoodie and stared at the wall across from her like it might give her answers. Like it might explain how loving someone this deeply had turned into something that hurt this badly. How wanting Paige had become a constant exercise in restraint instead of relief.
Before she could sink into the ground any further, Azzi pushed herself up. She fished her phone out of her bag to check for an update on the team’s plans. They decided on some club Azzi had never heard of.
Azzi’s thumb hovered over the text thread. She considered turning her phone off and calling it a night, but that felt like surrender. Felt like letting Paige win. She had to keep her chin up. She had to keep playing.
Maybe she had already lost. Maybe Paige was never going to come back. Maybe this would all be for nothing. But Azzi wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she walked away. At least not yet.
Because she couldn’t accept defeat, Azzi got ready. She moved on autopilot like she did when her head was too full of feelings. She put on something revealing but classy. Not for anyone in particular. Definitely not for Paige.
By the time she finished doing her hair, Azzi finally got the tears to stop. They weren’t gone. Just tucked away for now. A kind of hurt that ached low and steady instead of spilling out all over the place. The kind she could keep quiet enough to pretend to enjoy herself.
By the time she made it to the club, Azzi had folded into something passable. Not okay, but not not okay.
It hit her all at once. Bass thudding so hard it rattled her ribs. Heat. Bodies. A thousand conversations colliding into noise that almost drowned out the ache she carried in with her. Almost.
She spotted the team in the back. KK was half-standing in the booth, already animated, already loud. Dijonai had a drink in one hand and a story in the other. It looked easy. Normal. Like nothing had been ripped open earlier that night.
Azzi slid in beside them and let herself disappear into the familiar choreography. A hug here. A smile there. Someone shoved a drink into her hand, and she took it without asking questions. The first sip burned, sharp enough to pull her back into her body for half a second.
She laughed. She really did. At something KK said, at something ridiculous Dijonai did with her hands. It wasn’t fake so much as borrowed. Like she was mimicking the version of herself that usually existed in rooms like this.
But her eyes wouldn’t cooperate.
They kept drifting. Every opening door tugged at her chest. Every flash of blonde hair made her pulse jump before she could stop it. She hated herself for it. Hated how automatic it was. How her body still searched for Paige like muscle memory.
She told herself she wasn’t looking for her. Just scanning. Just being aware. Just—
KK caught her the fourth time. “Hey,” KK said, leaning in close, voice pitched low beneath the music. “You okay?”
Azzi nodded as best she could. She hoped her face would convey all of the things she didn’t want to say out loud.
KK opened her mouth to say more, but she was cut off by the squeals of several people standing right outside the club.
Azzi whipped her head in that direction. She knew she was being obvious. She didn’t care.
“I should go over there,” KK said, sliding out of the booth, leaving Azzi alone with her teammates. The ones who did not understand what Paige really was to her.
Azzi watched as KK and Dijonai greeted Paige and Zoey. Stupid fucking Zoey.
That wasn’t fair. After the brief interaction at Soy Cowboy, Azzi realized there was no plausible reason to hate Zoey other than her keeping Paige away. But as far as Azzi was concerned, that was a damn good reason.
Because she couldn’t help herself, Azzi’s eyes tracked the interaction. She clocked right away that Paige seemed a little off-center. Her movements were too stiff. Her jaw was too tight. Her facial reactions seemed to be a split second behind. Azzi knew what it looked like when Paige was carrying something.
She didn’t realize what that something was until Paige sat down at the table. Under the light, Azzi could finally see her face clearly. A large reddish-purplish mark on the side of her cheek, covered by makeup.
Something hot flashed behind Azzi’s ribs. She stared at it for a moment too long. The bruise. Purplish and angry and barely hidden under what she could tell was a rushed layer of concealer. Paige never wore concealer. Not unless she was trying to cover something she didn't want anyone to see.
Azzi set her drink down carefully. Like if she wasn't careful, she'd throw it.
She told herself to look away. Told herself it wasn't her business. Told herself that Paige made it clear she was trying to build a life that Azzi didn't have a hand in. She said all of that to herself like she had no choice but to believe it, and then spent the next forty minutes staring anyway.
She watched Paige laugh too loud at something Courtney said. Watched her throw back a shot with a kind of urgency that had nothing to do with celebration. Watched her scan the room the way she always did when she was carrying something heavy and looking for somewhere to put it down. Paige had always been good at performing. At making the outside look like the whole story. But Azzi had spent too many years learning the difference between Paige smiling and Paige okay.
This was not Paige okay.
Paige stayed in Azzi's peripheral vision no matter where Azzi tried to look. She thought about Zoey and felt her jaw tighten involuntarily. She thought about what Paige must've said or done for things to escalate like that, and then immediately felt sick for even framing it that way. There was no version of this where Paige deserved that.
Azzi picked her drink back up. Took a sip that she didn't taste.
"You have somewhere else to be?" KK's voice cut through the noise beside her.
Azzi blinked. Dragged her eyes back to the table. "What?"
KK gave her a look that was both knowing and exhausted. "You keep staring at her."
"I haven't been—" Azzi stopped. Because she had, and KK knew it, and lying about it felt small. "I'm just worried about her."
"Worried," KK repeated flatly.
"Something is up with her."
KK's expression shifted. Softened slightly at the edges. She glanced over in Paige's direction and back. She didn't say anything for a moment. "I know," she said quietly.
That two-word confirmation landed heavier than Azzi expected. Because it meant KK knew too. Meant it was real and not Azzi's mind making connections out of nothing. She exhaled through her nose, slow and controlled, and felt the heat behind her ribs flare back up.
She watched Paige get dragged out to the dance floor. She watched her smile and spin and do everything that looked like fun because Paige never let anyone see her drowning. She'd always been like that. This iron-willed, impossible girl who could bleed out standing up and still convince everyone around her that she was fine.
Azzi used to be the only person who could tell the difference.
She kept watching. Couldn't stop. Even when Paige tripped and KK grabbed her arm. Even when Paige waved her off and kept dancing. Even when Paige made eye contact with her across the room, and the whole world went briefly, dangerously quiet.
Then, for a second, Azzi thought Paige might be heading over to talk to her. She watched Paige take a whole step in her direction. She watched Paige’s eyes meet hers for just a second. She watched Paige’s lips part as if she were about to finally say exactly what Azzi had been aching to hear.
Then, Paige was pulled back into the crowd. Dijonai and KK said a few things to her. Azzi couldn’t tell what. But she could tell how frantic Paige was. How she was unraveling. How she was probably two seconds away from cracking right down the middle.
After the brief interaction, Paige broke away. Headed for the balcony. Azzi watched the door close behind her. She counted to thirty. Then she pushed back her chair.
"Azzi," KK said, catching up to her.
"I just need some air," Azzi said without looking at her.
KK didn't stop her. No one ever really could.
The heat outside was aggressive. Thick and humid and unforgiving, the kind of Dallas night that pressed against your skin like it had something to prove. Azzi stepped through the balcony door and let it fall shut behind her.
Paige was at the railing. Back to the door, smoke curling off something in her hand, shoulders carrying the full weight of whatever she'd walked out here to escape. She looked so familiar like that. Solitary and stubborn and quietly falling apart in a way she'd never let anyone name.
Azzi stayed still for a moment. Just looked at her. The way she used to let herself look when Paige wasn't watching. When it was safe.
"Hey," she said finally.
Paige's spine stiffened almost imperceptibly before she turned. The look on her face when she registered Azzi was complicated and tired and something else she was working too hard to cover. Her cheeks were flushed. Her eyes were glassy. The bruise looked worse out here, in the ambient glow of the city below. Angrier. More honest.
Azzi felt her jaw tighten and made herself breathe through it.
"Hey," Paige said back.
Azzi stepped closer, just enough. "I just needed some air, but I can go if—"
"No." Paige's voice came out too fast. Too raw. Too honest. "Don't go."
Azzi felt that settle somewhere deep in her chest. Like a key turning in something she'd kept locked all night. "Okay," she said simply. Because she didn't trust herself with more than that.
She came to stand beside her at the railing. Not too close. But close enough that she could feel the heat Paige was radiating. Close enough to see the bruise clearly for the first time.
Azzi's throat went tight.
She didn't say anything about it right away. Let Paige offer the joint. Let them pass it back and forth in the thick night air and talk around the edges of everything pressing on both of them. The conversation came in fragments, the way it always did when they'd had enough to drink and not enough space. Careful at first, then carelessly honest. Azzi said things she meant to keep to herself. Paige said things she was immediately afraid of. The balcony crackled with all of it.
When she finally asked about the bruise, she watched Paige's face do that thing. The shutting-down thing. Maybe I deserved it. And the words landed on Azzi like a stone dropped into still water.
She felt the ripple go all the way through her.
She said things she probably shouldn't have. So did Paige. It was their way. It had always been their way. Azzi grabbed Paige by her jacket because it was either that or watch her walk away again, and she was tired, so tired, of watching Paige walk away from her. She didn’t think she could survive it again.
And then KK opened the door, and something inside Azzi cracked. Because she knew the moment was over.
Azzi stayed at the railing long after Paige disappeared back inside. She pressed both palms flat to the metal and looked out at the city and let herself feel the full, humiliating weight of it. The bruise. The lapels bunched in her fists. The way Paige looked at her right before she pulled away, like it cost her something enormous.
Still mine, she thought. And then, quieter, Will that ever stop hurting?
She didn't have an answer. She never did.
The city hummed below her, indifferent and endless. Dallas didn't care about any of this. Dallas didn't know what it meant to have the person you were built for standing close enough to touch and still be completely unreachable. Dallas just kept going, all noise and light and forward motion, while Azzi stood perfectly still and came apart at the seams.
She pressed her forehead down against the backs of her hands on the railing. Squeezed her eyes shut.
Don't, she told herself. Not here.
But the thing about holding it together for days on end was that it had to go somewhere eventually. The composure she'd been performing since she stepped off the plane. The restraint she'd been white-knuckling through every practice, every locker room, every loaded silence. The smile she'd held in place through dinner at Soy Cowboy while Zoey talked about Paige like she knew her. It had all been building behind her ribs like water behind a dam, and the dam was tired.
A breath left her that was too shaky to be anything other than what it was.
Azzi pressed harder against the railing. Let the metal dig into her palms because the pain was something to focus on. Something real. She tried to breathe through it, slow and even the way she did before big games, the way her dad taught her when she was nine years old and convinced the world was ending. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. You're still here. You're still standing.
But she wasn't nine anymore. And this wasn’t a game. Not a basketball game, at least. No breathing technique had ever been designed for the specific agony of almost.
Almost. That was what the balcony was. What the whole week had been. Almost breaking through. Almost getting through to her. Almost close enough that Azzi could feel Paige's exhale on her mouth and believe, for one terrifying second, that it was all going to be okay.
And then KK's voice. And then Paige pulling back. And then the door. Always the door.
Azzi laughed. A short, ugly sound that she didn't mean to let out. It scraped at her throat on the way up. She shook her head against her own hands.
She thought about the first time Paige ever kissed her. Sixteen years old, sitting on a driveway in DC with the summer going gold around them, and Paige looking at her like she was the only thing worth seeing. The way the whole world had gone very quiet, and then very loud, and then quiet again in the best possible way. She thought about how certain she felt that night. How she'd pressed her forehead to Paige's afterward and thought, without even meaning to, oh. So this is what it's supposed to feel like.
She had never unfelt that. No matter how much time passed. No matter how many miles. No matter how badly things broke. She had never been able to unfeel that.
And now Paige was inside, probably smiling her performance smile and pretending none of it had happened. Probably letting Zoey take her hand. Probably doing what she always did when things got too close. Retreating back behind that wall she had built so tall and so carefully that sometimes Azzi forgot there was ever a door in it.
Azzi lifted her head. She wasn't crying. She refused to cry out here where anyone could see. But her eyes were hot and her chest felt like something had been sitting on it for hours and she was so, so tired of being brave about this.
She was tired of making it look easy. Of showing up to practice with her chin up and her game face on and her feelings stuffed somewhere no one could find them. Of watching Paige look through her like she was a stranger in the hallways that used to belong to both of them. Of lying awake at night with her hand pressed flat to her own sternum, trying to hold herself together from the inside.
She was tired of missing someone who was right there.
Azzi straightened up slowly. Wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket even though there was nothing to wipe. Took a long breath and looked out at the city one more time.
Figure it out, she thought. Not to herself. To Paige. To the night air between them. To whatever version of the universe was responsible for putting them here, in the same city, on the same team, close enough to burn and too far apart to heal.
Please, she added quietly. Before one of us doesn't make it back from this.
She stood there until her heartbeat evened out and her hands stopped shaking and she could trust her face again. Then she smoothed the front of her jacket, squared her shoulders, and went back inside.
She grabbed her bag. Said something vague to KK about being tired. KK looked at her with that specific expression. The one that said I see you and I'm sorry and I don't know how to help.
Azzi was three steps from the elevator when she felt it. Something unfamiliar in the front pocket of her jacket. She stopped. Reached in.
Paige's keys. She didn’t know how those ended up there. She didn’t pick them up and Paige sure as hell didn’t give them to her. But it didn’t matter.
She stood there for a moment, turning them over in her palm. The keychain was small and worn. A faded enamel cartoon from some fast food chain that Azzi recognized immediately. She'd had a matching one, once. She didn't know when she'd lost it.
She stared at the little thing for longer than she should've. Her thumb ran over the worn edges of it. Something in her chest pulled. Then she exhaled. Kept walking. And got in her Uber.
She asked the driver to change their destination. He nodded in approval and pulled off into the street.
Azzi thought that what she was doing might have been a little ridiculous. No, it was absolutely ridiculous. What if Zoey was there? What if they weren’t even home? What if she was just setting Paige up for another perfect opportunity to tear her to shreds?
Before Azzi had the chance to let her conscience win, it was too late. The car came to a stop outside Paige’s building. Azzi thanked the driver and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
She stood there for a second. Just long enough to talk herself out of it one more time. She didn't.
With as much confidence as she could scrape together, Azzi walked toward the building. She pulled on the door outside and realized it was locked. Her eyes dropped to the number keypad next to the door. Just based on a hunch, Azzi punched in the numbers she knew would always sit at the front of Paige’s mind. She knew because they always sat at the front of hers. 0535.
A green light flashed at the top of the keypad, and the lock on the door clicked. Azzi half-smiled at the fact that Paige still let remnants of Azzi linger in her life. No matter how small.
Azzi started walking toward the elevator before stopping in the middle of the lobby. She had no idea which apartment was Paige’s. Hell, she didn’t even know what floor she was on.
“Can I help you, Miss?”
Azzi turned toward the front desk. A security guard sat there on his phone. His face seemed to flicker in recognition when Azzi turned.
“Oh shit,” he said, a smile lighting up his face. “You’re Azzi Fudd.”
Azzi smiled back at him. “Guilty,” she said, sweet as can be.
He placed his phone down and stood up from his chair. “My daughters are huge fans. Do you think I could get a picture?”
Azzi opened her mouth to say yes, but stopped short of the words forming. Maybe this guy would help her out. “Depends. Do you think you could help me out?”
“Of course,” the guard said, rounding the corner with his phone.
“I know Paige lives here. She left her keys, and I was just trying to return them to her. Do you know what floor she’s on?” Azzi asked, as innocently as she could manage.
“Apartment 605 up there on the top floor,” the guy said, gesturing to the sky.
Azzi snapped a selfie with him and thanked him for the help before heading toward the elevator.
The apartment was dark except for the ambient glow of the city coming through the windows. Azzi stepped inside and let the door fall shut behind her. She didn't turn on all the lights. Just the lamp by the couch, which cast everything in a low, warm gold that made the whole place feel like something she wasn't supposed to be inside of.
She set Paige's keys on the kitchen counter.
She told herself she'd wait five minutes. Ten at most. Just long enough to hand them off and say goodnight and leave before she did something she couldn't take back.
But the apartment was so quiet. And it smelled like Paige. Like her shampoo and something warmer underneath it, something Azzi couldn't name but knew the way she knew her own heartbeat. Like a life that had kept going without her.
She didn't mean to start moving. She just did.
Her fingers trailed along the back of the couch as she passed it. She paused in the hallway, scanning the bookshelf without really reading the titles. There was a framed photo on the wall. Team photo from last season, the Wings lined up on the court. Paige dead center, of course. Grinning that big, real, unbothered grin she only ever gave when she was genuinely happy about something.
Azzi looked at it for a long moment. Looked at the brightness in Paige's face and tried to remember the last time she'd seen it directed at her. Not the performance smile. Not the careful, controlled one she wore like armor. The real one.
She made herself keep walking. The bedroom door was open. Azzi stopped in the doorway. She didn't go in. Just looked.
The bed was unmade on one side. Paige's side, which Azzi still knew without meaning to, which she probably always would. The nightstand had a phone charger coiled on it and a water bottle and a book left face-down like Paige had been interrupted mid-chapter and never went back. There were sneakers kicked off near the foot of the bed at careless angles. The curtains were the blackout kind.
It looked like Paige. Just Paige, living alone, in a room that was only hers.
Azzi's chest did something complicated. She had expected this to feel like grief, or jealousy, or anger. Something sharp enough to make sense of. Instead it just ached. Low and familiar and exhausting, like pressing on a bruise so old it had almost stopped hurting. Almost.
She stepped back. Returned to the living room.
She sat down on the couch, tucked her feet underneath her, and let her head fall back against the cushion. The lamp hummed beside her. The city glowed through the windows. Somewhere outside, Dallas kept going, the way Dallas always did. Loud and indifferent and unaware.
Azzi stared at the ceiling.
She thought about what she was going to say when Paige walked in. She rehearsed a few versions of it. Casual ones. Composed ones. The kind where she handed over the keys and shrugged and said she was just in the neighborhood. She practiced the expression she'd wear. Practiced keeping her voice even.
She was still practicing when her eyes got heavy. When the lamp seemed to dim and the city sounds softened and the ache in her chest settled into something almost bearable.
And then the sound of the doorknob turning seemed to cut through it all.
The door swung open and Paige stepped inside, and for a moment neither of them moved. Paige looked like she'd walked through a storm to get here, even though the night had been dry. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her jaw was set in that way that meant she'd been holding herself together through sheer stubbornness and not much else. She looked wrecked. She looked furious. She looked, above everything, exhausted in a way that sleep wasn't going to fix.
Her eyes landed on Azzi. Then on the keys sitting on the kitchen counter. Then back on Azzi.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Paige said.
Azzi adjusted her position on the couch slowly. Took her time. Let Paige's question hang in the air between them while she collected herself, because she had rehearsed this part and she was going to need every word of it.
"We didn't finish that conversation earlier," she said.
What followed was the kind of argument that only happened between people who knew each other too well. The kind where every word landed somewhere specific because both of them had spent years learning exactly where to aim. Paige was sharp and furious and so achingly familiar in her anger that it made something in Azzi's chest hurt the whole way through. She said ugly things. Azzi said uglier ones back. That was always how it went when they ran out of other ways to say I'm scared.
Azzi meant most of it. She meant the parts about Paige feeling sorry for herself. She meant the parts about the girls Paige kept choosing who didn't know how to hurt her right. She even meant the parts she said too harshly, the parts she could see landing like something physical on Paige's face, because at least it was real. At least it was honest. At least it was something other than the polite, professional distance Paige had been hiding behind all week.
What Azzi didn't mean to do was end up in her lap.
She told herself it was strategic. Told herself it was just pressure, just another move in a game she knew how to play. And maybe it started that way. Maybe the first step toward the armchair was calculated. But somewhere between sitting down and feeling Paige's hands fly to her waist like they had no choice in the matter, it stopped being a game entirely.
It became something else. Something that had nothing to do with winning.
Because Paige's breathing changed the moment Azzi touched her. Not gradually. All at once. Like a switch. And Azzi felt it everywhere. In the way Paige's fingers curled into her hips, in the way her head fell back, in the way she said Azzi's name like it had been trapped behind her teeth for years and finally got loose. That sound. That specific, wrecked, helpless sound that Azzi had replayed in her memory more times than she would ever admit to anyone.
She made herself keep going. Made herself say the things she said, lean in close, let her lips brush the curve of Paige's neck just enough to feel her shudder. She did it because she needed Paige to understand. Not in the way words could communicate, but in the deep, cellular way that the body keeps score even when the mind pretends otherwise.
You still want me, she thought. Stop pretending you don't.
But then she looked at Paige's face. Really looked at her. And the expression she found there nearly undid her completely.
It wasn't just want. It wasn't just the familiar heat of something physical. It was something older and more painful and completely unguarded in a way Paige almost never allowed herself to be. She looked like someone who had been holding her breath for four years and had just been given permission to exhale. She looked devastated and relieved and terrified all at once.
She looked like the girl from the driveway. Like the girl from every hotel room and every late night and every quiet moment that had ever belonged to the two of them.
Azzi's chest collapsed inward.
She pushed off Paige's lap before she could change her mind. Grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter on the way to the door. She could feel Paige behind her, scrambling upright, off-balance, trying to catch up.
"What do you even want from me?" Paige's voice cracked so badly it barely sounded like her.
Azzi stopped. Turned around. Looked at her across the apartment, at the disaster of Paige, flushed and undone and still the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Azzi gave her the only honest answer she had left.
"Leave her."
Then she turned and walked out and didn't look back because she knew if she did, she would stay. And she couldn't stay. Not tonight. Not like this. Not when Paige still hadn't chosen it for herself.
The walk back to her apartment was short, but it felt endless. The night air had cooled slightly, or maybe Azzi was just too wrung out to feel the heat anymore. She moved on autopilot. One foot and then the other. Don't think. Just walk.
She let herself inside, dropped everything by the door, and stood in the middle of her living room in the dark for a long moment. Just breathing.
She didn't cry this time. She was too empty for it. Too scraped out and strange and electric in the way she always felt after getting dangerously close to something she wanted more than she had words for.
Leave her.
She hadn't planned to say that. She didn't even know she was going to until it was already out of her mouth and hanging in the air between them like something that couldn't be unsaid. And now it was out there. In the world. Real. Azzi felt a little sick with guilt.
She moved to her bedroom slowly. Changed out of her clothes without turning on the light. Climbed into bed and pulled the covers up and stared at the ceiling in the dark the way she'd been doing every night since she got to Dallas.
She replayed it. All of it. The bruise. The balcony. Paige's hands at her waist. That sound.
She pressed the heel of her palm flat to her sternum and tried to breathe evenly.
Leave her.
She didn't know what she expected Paige to do with that. She didn't know if Paige was going to pick up her phone and end things with Zoey or if she was going to pour herself another drink and pretend the whole night didn't happen. She didn't know if she'd made things better or worse or just more complicated in ways neither of them had the energy for.
What she knew was that she meant it. Every syllable of it.
Azzi closed her eyes. The city hummed outside her window. Her heartbeat slowly, slowly began to settle.
Just as Azzi could finally quiet her mind enough to start drifting off to sleep, there was a knock on the front door. Followed quickly by another. And another.
By the time Azzi had climbed out of bed and thrown a robe on over her pajama set, the knocking had turned into a very persistent pounding. As she rounded the corner into the entryway, she could finally hear the voice on the other side of the door.
“Azzi!”
Paige.
Suddenly, Azzi was very wide awake and very sober. She whipped open the door to a rain-drenched, drunk Paige leaning on her doorframe, fist still raised.
Azzi stared at her.
Paige was soaking wet. Rain-dark jacket, hair plastered flat against her face, mascara she didn't normally wear tracked down one cheek. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glassy and trained on Azzi with an intensity that made the whole hallway feel smaller. She was still gripping the doorframe. Like she'd been holding onto it long enough that letting go felt dangerous.
She looked exactly like she had ten years ago. Plus four years of wreckage between them.
Azzi's chest cracked clean down the middle.
“Hi,” Paige said. It came out more like a whisper.
—-------------------------
10 years ago – 2019 The Fudd House, Washington DC
The fight started the way their fights always started. Not with a bang. With a tone.
Azzi had mentioned her Notre Dame visit casually, the way you mention something already on your calendar. She was in the middle of folding laundry, phone propped on her pillow, Paige on speaker the way she always was in the afternoons when they had nothing in particular to talk about and everything in general. It was her favorite kind of call. The domestic, quiet, just existing in each other's ears kind.
"I'm probably going to need new shoes before the visit," Azzi said, dropping a folded shirt on the pile. "The ones I’ve been wearing are getting beat up."
A pause. Too short to be nothing. Too long to be normal.
"What visit?" Paige asked.
Azzi frowned. "Notre Dame. I told you about this."
"You mentioned it. I didn’t realize you were actually going."
"It's been on the calendar for three weeks, Paige."
Another pause. Azzi could picture her on the other end. Sitting in her bedroom, probably in her practice clothes, jaw doing that tight thing it did before she decided how to respond to something.
"Okay," Paige said finally. Flat.
Azzi set down the shirt she was holding. "Don't do that."
"Do what? I said okay."
"You said it like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're not being honest," Azzi said. "Like you're not actually okay with me going."
Silence.
"Paige."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. Just say what you want to say."
The breath Paige let out was slow and controlled, which meant she was trying very hard not to say the thing she actually wanted to say. "I just don't understand why it keeps coming up. Notre Dame. You talk about it like it's already where you're going."
"I talk about it because it's a school I'm considering. That's what you do when you're choosing a college."
"You're choosing between Notre Dame and UConn. It's not that complicated."
Azzi's jaw tightened. "It's a little more complicated than that."
"Is it?"
"Yes, Paige. It is. And I'd appreciate it if you could trust me enough to make this decision without acting like I'm already gone," Azzi said, frustration growing.
The silence that followed was the specific kind that meant Paige had run out of ways to say the real thing. The thing underneath all of this, which had nothing to do with Notre Dame and everything to do with the distance and the fear and the fact that Paige Bueckers loved with her whole body and had no idea what to do with herself when she felt like something was slipping.
Azzi knew all of that. She understood all of it.
It didn't make the tone any easier to sit with.
"I'm not acting like you're already gone," Paige said quietly.
"You kind of are."
"Azzi–"
"I'll talk to you later," Azzi said. And ended the call.
She stood in the middle of her bedroom for a moment. Looked at her laundry. Looked at her phone.
Then she silenced it, turned it face-down on her nightstand, and went back to folding.
She knew Paige. Knew her the way you know a song you've listened to so many times it lives in your body without you meaning it to. She knew that Paige was going to sit with this for a little while, get out of her head on the court, and then the guilt was going to start creeping in. It always did. Because underneath all of Paige's bravado and stubbornness and sideways fear was a person who hated more than anything to be the reason Azzi felt bad. That was the thing most people never got to see. How hard Paige worked, quietly and constantly, to make sure Azzi was okay.
So Azzi wasn't worried. She was a little annoyed, and she was giving them both space to let it settle, but she wasn't worried.
She went to practice. She came home. She had dinner with her family and let her brothers be loud and let her parents' conversation wash over her and felt, overall, fine.
She didn’t check her phone. Only because there was nothing to check. Hours went by and there was nothing. Her phone never vibrated. Never buzzed or rang. Never showed any sign of life from Paige. Still, Azzi didn’t worry. She knew this was how Paige did things. She just needed to sit with it for a while before fixing it all. She trusted the process. She trusted Paige.
By nine PM, she was showered and in bed with a book, phone still face-down, and feeling fairly settled about the whole thing. By eleven, she was less settled.
It wasn't that she was worried, exactly. More that it was getting late, and Paige still hadn't called, and that was slightly unusual. Paige always called. The fact that she hadn't was either because she was asleep, or because she was really and truly giving Azzi space out of respect, or because something else was going on that Azzi couldn't see.
Azzi chewed her lip. Resisted the urge to check Paige’s location. Or call or text her first. She's fine, Azzi told herself. You know Paige. She's fine.
She put the phone face-down again. Turned off her lamp.
She lay in the dark for a while, listening to the house settle. Outside, D.C. was doing its December thing. Grey and damp and indifferent. She thought about Notre Dame. About what she was actually looking for when she imagined her next four years. About how complicated it was to want things for yourself when the person you loved had already mapped out a future with you in it.
She thought about Paige's voice when it went flat like that. How much had to be happening underneath for it to go that quiet.
She fell asleep eventually. She just didn't sleep all that well.
In the morning, the smell reached her before she was fully awake. Butter and syrup and something warm and sweet coming up through the vents from the kitchen below. Pancakes. Her mom made pancakes on Sunday mornings and occasionally on mornings when she sensed that someone in the house needed them.
Azzi pulled on a hoodie over her sleep shirt and padded downstairs in socked feet, still mostly asleep, hair everywhere, not thinking about anything in particular.
She turned the corner into the kitchen.
Her mom was at the stove, back to the door, humming quietly to herself. The table was set with two mugs and the syrup already out, which was a small but specific act of optimism on Katie Fudd's part.
And Paige was sitting at the kitchen table.
Sitting at the kitchen table. With a mug of coffee wrapped in both hands. Still in yesterday's clothes. Hair slightly flattened on one side from what Azzi could only assume was a car window. Looking, in spite of all of that, completely and insufferably calm. Like she had simply materialized there overnight and saw no reason to make a big deal of it.
Azzi stood in the doorway and stared at her.
Paige looked up. Their eyes met.
"Morning," Paige said. Like it was normal. Like this was just a thing that was happening.
Azzi opened her mouth. Closed it. Looked at her mom's back, then back at Paige, then at the window where the grey D.C. morning was just starting to come in pale through the glass.
Katie turned from the stove, spatula in hand, and took one look at her daughter's face. Then she looked at Paige. Then back at Azzi.
"I made pancakes," she said pleasantly. She set the spatula down, wiped her hands on the dish towel, and disappeared through the doorway to the hall with the specific unhurried grace of a woman who had raised children and knew exactly when to leave a room.
The kitchen went quiet.
Azzi was still standing in the doorway. Paige was still sitting at the table, both hands around her mug, looking at Azzi with an expression that was trying very hard to be patient and not quite managing it. Azzi could see the exhaustion underneath. The seventeen hours of highway underneath. The decision to get in the car and just go, because staying put felt impossible.
She knew Paige. She knew exactly what it had cost her to sit there quietly and wait. Paige didn't do waiting. Paige did action and forward motion and showing up. The waiting was for Azzi's sake. All of it was always for Azzi's sake.
Neither of them said anything for a long moment.
Then Paige stood up.
She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. She just stood up from the table and opened her arms, and Azzi crossed the kitchen in three steps and walked straight into them, and they collided in the way of two people who had been held apart by something stupid and were deeply relieved to be done with it.
Paige's arms came around her tight. Not careful or tentative. Completely, like she was trying to make up for seventeen hours of distance all at once. Azzi pressed her face against her shoulder and felt her whole body exhale.
They stayed like that for a while. Long enough that the pancake smell got stronger and a door opened somewhere in the house and closed again softly.
"You drove here," Azzi said eventually. Into Paige's shoulder.
"Yeah."
"All night."
"Fell asleep for twenty minutes in a rest stop parking lot in Ohio," Paige said. "Does that count as all night?"
Azzi pulled back enough to look at her. Up close, the exhaustion was more obvious. The redness around her eyes. The slight hollowness of someone who had been running on adrenaline and stubbornness for too many hours. "Paige."
"I know," Paige said softly.
"You could have just called."
"I know."
Azzi searched her face, still half-confused. "When did you even plan–"
"Right after you hung up," Paige said. Matter-of-fact. "I sat on my bed for like twenty minutes and then I just–" She shrugged. Like the decision had been simple. Like getting in a car and driving through the night to stand in Azzi's kitchen was a thing that made obvious, logical sense. "I couldn't stop thinking about your face. What you'd look like when you woke up still upset. I didn't want you to wake up still upset."
Azzi's chest did something quiet and devastating.
"So you drove eighteen hours."
"Seventeen and a half."
"Paige."
"I brought you something." Paige turned toward the foyer and grabbed her duffel bag from where it was sitting by the door. She unzipped it and pulled out a shoebox before handing it to Azzi.
Azzi took it. Looked inside. They were a pair of Kobes Azzi had put on her Christmas wishlist.
“You said you needed shoes, so…” Paige said, voice trailing off. “Figured I could give you your Christmas gift a little early.
Azzi looked up from the bag. Her eyes were embarrassingly hot.
"Don't cry," Paige said immediately, looking slightly panicked.
"I'm not crying,” Azzi said.
"You're definitely about to cry."
"I'm not–" Azzi pressed her lips together. "Why did you get me these?"
"Because you said you needed them. Yesterday on the phone." Paige said it so simply. So without fanfare. Like of course, she knew that. Like she kept a running catalog of all the small ways she could make Azzi's life easier and just quietly acted on it whenever the opportunity arose.
Azzi set the box down on the table and looked at her properly. At the exhaustion and the hope and the slight residual tension of someone who had driven through the night on a feeling and was now waiting to find out if the feeling had been right.
"I'm not going to Notre Dame," Azzi said.
Paige blinked. "You don't know that yet."
"I do, actually." Azzi tilted her head. "I've kind of known for a while. I just wanted to see it through. Visit. Make the decision properly instead of making it for the wrong reasons."
Paige was very still. "Don't choose UConn for me."
"I'm not." Azzi held her gaze. "I'm choosing it because it's the right place. Because Coach Auriemma is the best in the world, and because I want to win a national championship, and because I've wanted it since I was twelve years old." She paused. "You are a bonus."
The corner of Paige's mouth twitched. Just slightly. "A bonus?"
"A significant one."
Paige exhaled. Long and slow and like something had been sitting on her chest for months and had finally gotten up. She reached out and tucked a piece of Azzi's sleep-wild hair behind her ear, careful and soft, in the way she did when she was feeling something too big to say.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "About yesterday. I got scared and I took it out on you, and that wasn't fair. You're allowed to take your time. You're allowed to want things for yourself. I never want to be the reason you don't."
Azzi looked at her. "You have to tell me when you're scared."
"I know."
"Instead of going quiet like that. It's scarier when you go quiet."
Paige nodded. Looked down for a second, then back up. "I'll work on it."
"Okay," Azzi said.
"Okay," Paige echoed.
The kitchen settled around them. Outside, the morning was getting lighter. Inside, something that had been pulled tight all of yesterday slowly, quietly let go.
"You drove seventeen and a half hours," Azzi said one more time. Not accusatory. Just wanting to say it again.
"For the record," Paige said, completely serious, "I would drive significantly farther."
"How much farther?"
Paige didn't even hesitate. "However far you need me to. I’ll always come back to you."
Azzi shook her head. But she was smiling. She couldn't help it. She reached out and took Paige's hand and held it and thought about how strange and specific and extraordinary it was to be known by someone like this. To have someone who showed up in the most literal possible sense of the word.
—--------------------
Present Day – June 2029 Dallas, Texas
Azzi quickly poked her head out to make sure no one was around to see the loud, drunk woman on her doorstep. “What the hell, Paige?” Azzi whisper-yelled, yanking Paige inside by the zipper of her jacket. She could smell the whiskey on Paige’s breath.
Paige took a few leisurely steps inside, surveying Azzi’s place. “This where you live? Iss nice,” she said, slurring slightly.
Azzi watched her, trying to piece together the state she was in. “What are you doing here?”
Paige stopped wandering. Turned around. “Like you said… can’t stay away for long. Never could.”
I’ll always come back to you.
Azzi’s pulse spiked. Her lips parted involuntarily. She didn’t say anything for a moment. Just watched. Took Paige in. The water dripping from the ends of Paige’s hair and clothes. The devastating look in her eye. Her tense posture as if she was carrying something too heavy.
“You stayed away for four years,” Azzi said, crossing her arms, remembering there was a game to be played here.
Paige was quick with a comeback. “So did you,” she said, pointing at Azzi before throwing her head back in an ironic laugh.
“You’re fucked up,” Azzi countered. Felt like the safest observation she could make in the moment.
Paige shrugged. “Yeah, well, thought a little liquor might help me get you out of my system, and then, I thought I just needed some more, and then some more, and well… here we are,” she said, gesturing vaguely.
Azzi narrowed her gaze. She didn’t doubt any of it. She was just curious about where this was going. “So you came here drunk and in the rain to do what?”
Their eyes met again. Paige’s tongue ran over her lower lip. “I don’t know… I just wanted to see you.”
Azzi took a step closer. A dangerous step. “Is that all?”
Paige took a step too, eyes never leaving Azzi’s. She sighed. “You know that’s never all.”
Azzi swallowed. As if she were trying to keep down the things clawing their way up her throat. She let her eyes continue to drag over Paige, wondering how strict her moral boundary was going to be tonight.
“You have a girlfriend,” Azzi said quietly. Like she wished it weren’t true. Like she hoped Paige would make it go away right then and there.
Paige nodded solemnly. Apologetically. “I know.”
“A girlfriend who beats you,” Azzi added, nodding at the bruise still painted across Paige’s cheek. Throwing salt in the wound.
Paige flinched noticeably. “It’s not like that. She wasn’t wrong–”
Azzi, impatient and still livid, cut her off. “She put her hands on you. Doesn’t matter what you did. In what world do you think I’m okay with that? In what world would I ever be okay with that?”
Azzi could see the walls coming back up in the way Paige’s face twisted. Like she was getting back on defense.
“What does it matter if you’re okay with that or not?” Paige spat, a little louder now.
A half-scoff, half-laugh escaped Azzi’s lips. It was almost funny. “Honey, you look for me. You check for me. It doesn’t matter where we are or what we’re doing–your eyes are on me.”
Paige paused. Kept her big, blue, tired eyes locked on Azzi. After a moment, she turned away, hiding her face from Azzi. “I wish you’d stop being so goddamn full of yourself for two seconds,” she mumbled.
“And I wish you’d stop being such an asshole all the time,” Azzi said, voice matching the fire in Paige’s.
Images of arguments just like this flashed through Azzi’s head so vividly she could almost hear them. The slam of Paige’s bedroom door after Azzi had told her she was staying for a fifth year at UConn. The petty song Paige had posted in her Instagram notes when things got really bad. The hum of the air conditioning in the hotel room where they ended it for good.
“I’m so sick of this,” Paige sighed.
That was it for Azzi. She had been kind. She had been composed. She had been patient while she waited for Paige to come around to admitting what Azzi already knew. What was already written all over Paige’s face.
“You’re sick of this?” Azzi spat, volume increasing. “Sick of what, Paige? Sick of having a famous pop star girlfriend? Sick of the one person in the world who cares for you more than anything being right here in front of your face?” Azzi's voice cracked on the last word. She hadn't meant for that to happen. She pressed her lips together and breathed through her nose. "Because if that's what you're sick of, Paige, then I genuinely don't know what to tell you."
Paige had her back to her still. Her shoulders were up around her ears. Her jacket was dripping quietly onto the hardwood floor. "That's not what I meant," she said. Low. Hoarse.
"Then what did you mean?" Azzi asked, voice still jagged.
Paige didn't answer right away. Her head dropped forward slightly. Like something in her neck gave out. Like she'd been holding it up through sheer stubbornness all night and had finally run out. Then she turned to face Azzi finally.
"I'm sick of not being able to breathe when you're in the room," she said. "I'm sick of being so scared all the time. I'm sick of loving you and not being able to do anything about it." Her voice broke on the last word. Her eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm just so tired, Az. I'm so tired of all of it."
The anger drained out of Azzi so fast it left her dizzy. She stepped toward Paige. Not close enough, it was never close enough, but just to the point that she could feel that Paige’s words were real.
"I wanna end it," Paige said suddenly. "With Zoey. I just–" She laughed, short and broken. "I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep pretending that she’s enough when–" She stopped. Swallowed. "When you’re right here."
Azzi closed her eyes.
"I know that makes me the worst person in the world," Paige continued, voice dropping to almost nothing. "And I know I don't deserve anything from you after everything. I know that. But… you just needed to know that."
When Azzi opened her eyes again, Paige’s face was completely undone. No armor. No performance. No careful control. Just Paige. Wet and exhausted and wrung out and more honest than Azzi had seen her in four years.
Her eyes were full.
Azzi had seen Paige cry maybe a handful of times in her entire life. It never looked like this. It never looked this quiet and this total and this helpless.
"Hey," Azzi whispered. She reached up and pressed her palm flat against Paige's unbruised cheek. Paige's eyes fluttered closed at the touch like it physically hurt her. Like she'd been starving for something soft for a long time. "Hey. Look at me."
Paige opened her eyes. They were so blue. They were always so unbearably blue.
"I know," Azzi said. Just that. Just those two words, which meant everything she didn't have the capacity to say out loud. I know you're tired. I know you're scared. I know how much this has cost you. I know.
The first tear slipped down Paige's cheek and Azzi caught it with her thumb without thinking. And then Paige made a sound. A small, devastated sound that came from somewhere deep and unguarded, and something in Azzi's chest answered it like a call and response.
She pulled Paige in. Arms around her, one hand at the back of her wet head, Paige's face pressed against her neck. Paige's hands came up and gripped the back of Azzi's robe like she was trying not to fall, and then she was crying. Really crying. The silent, shaking kind that meant it had been building for a long time. Azzi held her through all of it. Didn't shush her. Didn't tell her it was okay. Just held on.
"I got you," Azzi murmured into her hair. "I always got you."
They stood there in the middle of Azzi's living room for a long time. The rain kept going outside. Paige kept shaking. Azzi kept holding.
Eventually, the shaking slowed. Paige's grip on the back of her robe loosened slightly. Her breathing started to even out into something ragged but steadier. She didn't pull away. Neither did Azzi.
Then Paige lifted her head. Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed and her face was still wet and she was looking at Azzi from an inch away with an expression that made the whole room tilt.
"Azzi," she breathed.
"I know, baby," Azzi said again. Even softer.
Paige's eyes dropped to her lips.
Azzi didn't move away. She should have. She knew she should have. But Paige was looking at her like that, with four years of everything pressed into the space between them, and Azzi's body had never learned how to say no to her. Not really. Not when it mattered.
Paige moved first. Slow. Careful. Like she was giving Azzi every possible opportunity to stop her and was terrified that she would.
She didn't.
Paige's lips found hers and the whole world went silent.
It wasn't like the kisses they used to trade carelessly. The quick ones in locker rooms, the hungry ones in hotel rooms, the lazy ones on Sunday mornings when neither of them had anywhere to be. This was nothing like any of those. This was four years of absence compressed into a single point of contact. This was every almost and every not yet and every time one of them had looked at the other across a room and had to look away. It was all of that, landing at once, without warning.
Paige kissed her like she was apologizing. Like she was promising. Like she had been holding this specific kiss behind her teeth for years and was only now allowing herself to give it back. She gripped Azzi’s waist like she was never going to let go again.
Azzi felt it in her hands first. The way they came up to Paige's face without her deciding to, thumbs curling against her jaw, fingertips pressing gently into her wet hair. Felt it in her chest next, that specific melting sensation she had spent four years trying to forget the feeling of. Like something that had been clenched for a very long time was finally, slowly opening.
Paige made a sound against her mouth. Soft and broken and barely audible. The sound of someone who had been holding their breath underwater and had just broken the surface.
That sound was what did it.
Because Azzi knew that sound. She had memorized it years ago. Had replayed it in the dark on the worst nights, when she was trying to convince herself she was over this and her own memory kept calling her a liar. She knew exactly what it meant and exactly how much it cost Paige to make it, and that was precisely why she couldn't let this go any further.
She pressed her hands gently to Paige's chest and stepped back. It took everything she had.
Paige's eyes opened slowly. Like coming out of something. Like she'd forgotten for a moment where she was and was only now remembering.
"Azzi."
"Not like this." Azzi's voice came out lower than she intended. She could still feel the ghost of Paige's mouth on hers and her hands were still cupping Paige's face and she made herself lower them slowly. "Not tonight."
Paige took a step back, eyes wide like it was starting to set in what she had done. “Oh, god. Fuck, I’m sorry.” She grabbed her mouth as if she could wipe it away. The tears started to well again. “I’m so sorry.”
Azzi reached for her on instinct, then dropped her arms when she remembered it was a bad idea. She still stepped closer. “Hey, don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t–I shouldn’t have–I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking–”
“Baby, stop.” Azzi cupped Paige’s face with one hand and placed the other on Paige’s chest. That always calmed her down. “I’m not saying no, okay? I’m not saying no.”
Paige's chin trembled. She nodded once, small and miserable.
"But you need to sleep," Azzi said. "And I need you to be sober. And we need to not do the most important thing in the world at two in the morning when you're falling apart." She brushed another tear from Paige's cheek with her thumb. "Okay?"
Paige didn't say anything for a moment. Just looked at her with those devastated, open eyes. Then, barely audible, “Okay.”
“C’mon,” Azzi said, jerking her head toward the hallway. Paige followed her to the bedroom.
Azzi rummaged through her drawers before pulling out a pair of boxers and an oversized t-shirt. She helped Paige out of her jacket and pressed the dry clothes into her hands before turning away to give Paige some privacy. She didn’t turn back until she didn’t hear the rustle of cotton anymore.
Paige sat on the bed with her back against the headboard. Her hair was down. Her eyes were puffy. And she was still the most beautiful sight Azzi had ever seen. She looked young. She looked like every version of herself she'd ever been, all of them layered on top of each other at once.
Azzi pulled the covers up around her. Smoothed them over her shoulders the way her hands remembered without being asked. Paige let her. Watched her with tired, soft eyes and didn't say anything. Azzi turned off the bedside lamp and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of Paige’s face.
“Get some sleep,” Azzi said softly. She turned toward the door.
“Azzi,” Paige said. And God, it had never sounded sweeter.
Azzi turned to face her. “Yeah?”
“Will you stay with me?” Paige asked. A little hopeful and a little broken.
Azzi looked at her for a long moment. At the outline of her in the dark. At the way she was holding herself, careful and small, like she already knew the answer might be no and was bracing for it.
"Paige."
"I know," Paige said quietly. Meaning she knew it was too much to ask. Meaning she was asking anyway.
Azzi shook her head slowly. "I can't. Not tonight."
Paige looked at her for another long moment. Then she nodded. Once. Slow. Like accepting something she didn't entirely want to accept but understood. "Okay," she said softly.
Azzi pulled the door halfway closed behind her and stood in the hallway for a moment, hand still on the doorframe, just breathing.
Then she went to the linen closet, pulled out the spare blanket and the pillow she kept on the top shelf, and carried them to the couch. She kicked off her slippers and lay down, pulling the blanket up over herself. The apartment was quiet except for the rain and the low hum of the city twelve floors below.
She stared at the ceiling.
She could still feel it. The ghost of Paige's hands at her waist. The specific weight of her. The sound she made. Four years condensed into a few seconds and somehow it still felt like not enough time. Like it could never be enough time.
Azzi pressed the back of her hand against her mouth briefly. Just to contain it. Just to keep it from becoming something loud. Then she let her arm drop and breathed slowly and stared at the ceiling and let herself sit with all of it. The mess of it. The tenderness of it. The terrifying, bone-deep relief of finally being in the same room without a wall between them.
—------------------
7 years ago – February 2022 UConn, Storrs, CT
She was almost all the way asleep when she felt it.
A hand on her arm. Gentle. Just resting there first, not shaking, not urgent. Just present. Waiting for her to come back up on her own terms.
Azzi surfaced slowly. The bus. The darkness outside the window. The low rumble of the engine that had pulled her under somewhere around the two hour mark.
"We're back," Paige said softly. She had the aisle seat and Azzi had the window and Paige had been sitting beside her the whole ride.
Azzi blinked. Looked out the window. The familiar outlines of campus in the dark. She felt the specific disorientation of someone woken from deep sleep in a moving vehicle. Not quite real yet, the world still slightly soft around the edges.
"Come on," Paige said. Same quiet voice. She stood up into the aisle and reached down for Azzi's bag before Azzi had fully processed that they'd stopped moving.
Azzi let her take it. She never let Paige do that. She was just too tired to think about it this time.
The bus emptied in the slow, shuffling way of a group of people who had left everything on the court and were now running purely on fumes and muscle memory. Nobody talked much.
The cold hit when the doors opened. Sharp and immediate, January doing its Connecticut worst. Azzi pulled her hood up. Paige fell into step beside her without looking to find her, just knowing where she was the way she always did, the way that had stopped surprising Azzi and had simply become the texture of things.
Paige reaching into Azzi’s hoodie pocket and laced their fingers together. Azzi tugged her a little bit closer, making their shoulders brush as they walked.
They walked across campus in the dark. Their breath made small clouds. Their footsteps were the loudest sound on the path.
They didn't talk. They didn't need to. There was a specific quality to the silence between them on nights like this. It felt less like the absence of conversation and more like its own complete thing. Like they had developed a language that existed below words and this was one of its sentences.
Paige held the door to the building open. Azzi went through. The warmth inside hit immediately and Azzi felt her shoulders come down a full inch.
They both stepped into the elevator and paused when they looked at the elevator buttons. Azzi’s eyes flicked between 3 and 5. Her floor and Paige’s. They had a rule.
It had been Azzi's idea, originally. Or maybe Paige's. At this point neither of them could remember who had said it first, only that they had both agreed to it sometime in October when it became clear that if they didn't set some kind of boundary they were going to spend every night in the same bed and every morning barely making it to practice on time. So, they decided sleepovers were for weekends. Weeknights they were in their own rooms by midnight. They were athletes first. They had to be.
It was a good rule. A sensible rule. Azzi believed in it.
The elevator hummed. Neither of them pressed a button. It was a Tuesday.
Azzi looked at the panel. At the 3 and the 5 side by side, small and illuminated and waiting. She could feel Paige beside her, the warmth of her, the specific exhaustion radiating off her like heat from pavement. She reached for the 3.
Paige's hand found hers before she could press it. Her touch was gentle. The way Paige always found her. She turned Azzi gently by the hand so they were facing each other in the small elevator and then she didn't say anything. She just stepped forward and wrapped both arms around her, tucking her face into Azzi's neck, and held on.
Azzi felt it immediately. The weight of her. It wasn’t heavy. Paige was never heavy. It was just the demeanor of someone who had run out of everything and was borrowing from the last reserve. Her arms around Azzi's waist weren't tight. They were just there. Like she needed somewhere to put herself and this was the only place that made sense.
Azzi's arms came around her without a decision being made about it.
For a moment neither of them moved. The elevator waited. Hummed around them.
"Will you stay with me?" Paige asked. Into her neck. It was soft. So soft. Barely above a whisper. Not asking for much. Just asking for the one thing.
Azzi closed her eyes. Held her for a moment longer. Then she pulled back, just enough, to look at her.
Paige let her. Lifted her head. Met her eyes.
And Azzi looked at her.
Really looked at her. At the exhaustion written into every line of her face. Her hair had dried in pieces on the bus, a few strands loose and falling across her forehead, and she hadn't bothered with any of it. She didn't seem to have the energy to bother with any of it.
She looked tired. She looked so tired. And she looked, underneath all of that, so entirely and catastrophically beautiful that Azzi felt it in her sternum like a struck chord.
Azzi thought about the game. About Paige running the floor for thirty-eight minutes and taking every hit and making every call and being exactly what the team needed her to be, the way she was every single night, the way she never stopped being even when it cost her something to maintain it. She thought about the bus ride, and Paige sitting in the aisle seat so Azzi could have the window because Azzi slept better against the window and Paige had just known that without being told. She thought about the cold outside and Paige reaching into her pocket to find her hand.
I would take all of it from you if I could, Azzi thought. Every bit of it. I would carry it myself if it meant you got to rest.
She reached up. Found the loose strand of hair at Paige's forehead. Brushed it back behind her ear with the kind of care you gave things that mattered to you. Her fingers stayed at Paige's temple for a moment, just resting there.
“Yeah, baby,” Azzi said, breath catching on the words.
Paige's eyes were soft and tired and completely open. Waiting. Not pressing. Just waiting for whatever Azzi decided.
Azzi looked at her for one more moment.
Then she turned and pressed 5.
Paige's whole face changed. Not dramatically. Just the slight release of something she'd been holding. The faintest exhale. She dropped her forehead to Azzi's shoulder as the elevator began to move, and Azzi put her arm back around her and held her for the four seconds it took to get from the lobby to the fifth floor.
The doors opened. They stepped out into the hallway together. Paige found her keys.
Azzi followed her inside and to Paige’s bedroom.
She turned on the lamp. Paige handed her a shirt without being asked. They had memorized each other's rhythms so thoroughly that care had stopped requiring thought and become simply the way things were.
They got into bed. Paige pulled the blanket over both of them and tucked herself into Azzi's side and exhaled like she was setting down something very heavy. tucked herself into Azzi's side, her head finding the space below Azzi's shoulder like it had been made for exactly that purpose, her arm coming across Azzi's waist. Azzi's hand found her hair without thinking. Started moving through it slowly. Her nails gentle against Paige's scalp, the way she knew Paige liked, the way that made all the tension leave Paige's body in a single long exhale. Azzi felt her go soft.
For a while there was just that. Azzi's hand in her hair. The quiet. The sound of the building settling around them. The particular peace of a room that had been shared so many times it had stopped being one person's room and become something that belonged to both of them without anyone declaring it.
"Thank you," Paige said after a while. Barely audible.
"Don't thank me," Azzi said.
"It’s a Tuesday. I made you break our rule."
Azzi didn’t answer in words. Just pressed her lips to the top of Paige's head. Stayed there a moment.
Paige's hand found Azzi's back. Started moving. Slow and tender and without any agenda. Just tracing. Just present.
They lay like that while the building went quiet around them. The exhaustion of the day was enormous and Azzi could feel it in her own bones, but she didn't want to sleep yet. She wanted to stay in this for a little while longer. In the specific peace of it.
"You were so good tonight," Paige said. Into her shoulder. Low and sleepy.
"You were better," Azzi said.
"That's not true."
"It is."
"We were the same."
"We're always the same," Azzi said.
Paige's arm tightened across her waist slightly. Her hand moved to Azzi's back. Started tracing slow, absent patterns there. Up and across and back down. Tender in the way of something done without thinking. The kind of touch that existed below intention. Azzi felt it in her spine, in her shoulders, in all the places she'd been carrying the day.
"I kept looking for you," Paige said.
"What?"
"During the game. Whenever something happened, I kept looking for you first." A pause. "I always look for you first."
Azzi's hand stilled briefly in her hair. Then kept moving. "I know," she said quietly. "Me too."
"I know you do." Paige pressed her lips to Azzi's collarbone. Left the contact linger for a moment. "I like that we do that."
"Me too."
The room was very still. Paige's hand kept moving on her back. Slow and circular and completely unhurried. Like she had nowhere to be and nothing to do but this.
"Az," Paige said.
"Mm."
"I think about you all the time." Not dramatic. Not performed. Just a true thing said simply, in the dark, because it was late and they were tired and the game–the real game, the one they'd been playing since they were teenagers–had dissolved somewhere between the bus and the blanket and left only this. Really, it had dissolved forever ago. This was whatever was underneath it. Whatever had always been underneath it. "Like, all the time. Even when you're right next to me."
Azzi looked at the ceiling. Felt the words in her chest. "What do you think about?"
Paige was quiet for a moment. "Everything," she said. "Nothing specific. Just you. Just the fact of you." Another pause. "Sometimes I'm in the middle of something completely unrelated and I'll just think about the fact that you exist. That you're a person who exists. And it's like—" She stopped. Let out a small, quiet laugh. "I don't have a word for it."
"That's unlike you," Azzi said softly.
"I know." Paige's hand moved up Azzi's back and back down. "You do that to me. You make me run out of words."
Azzi turned her head. Pressed her lips to the top of Paige's head. Stayed there. "I know the feeling," she said into her hair.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Azzi's hand moved slowly through her hair. "You're the loudest person I've ever met. And somehow you're also the only place I ever go quiet."
Paige was still for a moment. Then her arm tightened across Azzi's waist. Pulling her closer. Not saying anything. Just holding on.
"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Paige said. Very quiet.
"Don't get used to it."
Paige laughed. Low and real and warm against her collarbone. "Too late."
Azzi smiled in the dark. Her hand kept moving through Paige's hair and Paige's hand kept moving on her back and the room stayed amber and quiet and entirely outside of everything that wasn't the two of them.
"I love you," Paige said. The way she always said it. Not asking for anything. Just releasing it into the air between them because it needed to be there.
"I love you," Azzi said back. And then, because it was late and her guard was somewhere on the bus where she'd left, "More than I know what to do with, honestly."
Paige lifted her head. Looked at Azzi in the low light. Her eyes were soft and tired and completely open. "Me too," she said.
Azzi looked at her. At her face close to hers in the dark. At the fact that she was real and here and warm and that they had been doing this for over four years and it still felt like the first time she'd ever been fully seen by another person.
I was not ready for you, she thought. I will never be done with you. There is not a version of anything that makes sense without this.
She pulled Paige back down. Pressed her lips to her forehead. Her cheek. The corner of her mouth. Soft and slow and with no urgency at all, the way you touched something you weren't afraid of losing. The way you touched something you thought you'd have forever.
Paige made a sound that was almost nothing. Just a breath. Just the sound of someone completely at rest.
"Go to sleep," Azzi said softly.
"You first," Paige mumbled.
"That's not how it works."
Paige's eyes were already closing. Her hand had gone still on Azzi's back, heavy now. Almost there. "Stay till I'm out."
"I'm not going anywhere," Azzi said.
She meant it as reassurance. A small thing. A tonight thing.
She didn't know yet how long she would mean it. How deep it went. How many years she would carry the truth of it even after everything else fell apart.
She kept her hand moving through Paige's hair until Paige's breathing went deep and slow and she was all the way under.
Then Azzi lay in the dark and looked at the ceiling and felt the full, unmanageable weight of loving someone this much settle across her chest like something she would never put down.
