miemie/fia

You felt your face flush with a slight embarrassment. The one awkward thing about having mostly guy friends was telling them any details about your nonexistent love life. Usually, you reserved such talks for Katherine. Not that you’d told her this anyways.

You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, “Yeah, a guy asked me a couple of days ago”. Which was true.

The group guffawed at you, in all their time knowing you, you had never ever brought up even being interested in a guy, let alone engaging with one. You noticed Race’s eyebrows go up in surprise as he and Albert exchanged a glance.

“Guys, is it really that ridiculous that a guy is actually interested in me for once?” You scowled at them. This is why you hadn’t wanted to bring it up.

Jack held his hands up, looking amused, “You’ve just never mentioned any guy before. Where did he come from?”

“I don’t know him that well, I just see him in econ sometimes. He said he thought I was pretty and asked if I wanted to go with him. And seeing as nobody else asked me, I said yes.”

Race’s eyebrows furrowed, and you fought the urge to justify yourself further. You didn’t have to make excuses to your friends on why you said yes to a guy. It’s not like Race, or anyone else would have asked you anyways.

Albert looked at you smirking, but the look in his eyes revealed that he was confused, “You mean to say that you said yes to the first guy who asked you simply because he asked?”

You looked back down at the board game. “It’s not like this happens to me a lot… or at all.” You took your next turn in the game, aware that they were all still looking at you. You did not notice Jack and Albert looking at Race, or the clear disappointment on his face.

“Well at least tell us who the lucky fella is.” Race said neutrally.

“I don’t know if any of you would know him. His name is Oscar.”

The three boys all recoiled in varying levels of shock and disgust, as if your words had hurt them personally.

“Delancey?” Albert’s voice had gotten louder and gone up a pitch.

You looked between them, confused, “Yeah?” You watched Jack rub his face with his hands, “Did he kill someone’s dog or something? He seemed just fine in class?”

Jack sighed, saying your name with exasperation, “He’s just not a good guy.”

“Why, what did he do?”

Race’s jaw tightened, “He and his brother are total jackasses. There is no way he asked you out of the goodness of his heart.”

Shame and anger riled up in your chest. The one time a guy had shown any interest in you, and your friends had to act like you were going to a dance with the devil incarnate. You had never even heard them mention Oscar or his brother before this, so whatever gripe they had must not have been important enough to bring up to you before this point.

“You guys could at least pretend to be happy for me,” you snapped, “Clearly whatever drama you have with him wasn’t noticeable enough for me to care. He seems nice enough, and unlike any other man at this school, he actually asked me to go with him.” You were seething, any reasonable thinking thrown out the window.

The boys looked uncomfortable at your anger, but it didn’t stop Race from continuing, “Look. They went to a high school near us, none of the news we ever heard about them was ever good”. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He looked concerned and frustrated, which he probably was, but there was something in his tone, or was it his eyes, that you couldn’t read.

You scowled at him nonetheless, “Well maybe you shouldn’t believe everything you hear then.” With that you got to your feet and began gathering your scattered belongings. Couldn’t Race, or any of them, at least pretend to be happy about this? Apparently not. Apparently, they were so soured by old high school rumors that they couldn’t take your word about how he’d treated you.

You pretended to ignore them looking between each other as you got your shoes on. Before any of them had time to figure out what to say next, you were reaching for the door. “I’ll see you guys there tomorrow.” And with that you were walking home, hurt and bittered by their reactions. But beyond that, you felt apprehensive.

You tried to reassure yourself. You were meeting him at a public place, so clearly he wasn’t planning anything that wouldn’t be witnessed by a crowd. Race was just being dramatic, which you knew he had a tendency to do.

You shook off the memory of that strange look in his eyes, and you carried on home.

Which led you to where you were now. Sitting in a dark, empty hallway alone. Crying.

The great thing about friends is that they want to look after you. The horrible thing about you is that sometimes you are stubborn and you don’t listen, and despite their warnings, you end up shocked when bad things happen.

The night had started out fine. You had dressed yourself up, reveling in how good it felt to look good, and you had met Oscar at the venue. He had smiled and told you that you were gorgeous. The meal had gone fine, you met his brother and a couple other random friends of theirs who had sat at the same table. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your friends across the venue, if you had you would’ve seen Race trying desperately to catch your eye.

After the meal had finished, the Delancey brothers excused themselves for a drink. They stood at the table for long enough that you eventually followed. And that’s where it all feel apart.

They were laughing – no cackling – to themselves, and you heard between them the words “date” and “bet”, and you felt your heart sink in your chest. Oscar looked over at you, a smile still on his face, and then back to his brother. He muttered something about “too easy” and you didn’t need to hear anymore to realize what they were laughing about. You tore away from them as fast as you could, getting yourself lost down some random hallway as tears pricked your eyes.

Of course, your friends were right. Of course, no guy would ask you out simply because he wanted to. Of course nobody would want you in that way. How stupid could you be to assume otherwise? Now you had spent the night apart from your friends where you could’ve been dancing and having fun.

You had made a complete fool of yourself.

You did all that you had left to do, you sank to the floor, put your head in your knees, and you cried.

It took you a moment to register the sound of footsteps approaching you quickly. You kept your face buried in your knees, hoping that maybe whoever it was would get the hint and leave you alone. They did not. You heard the footsteps slow and eventually stop next to you, and you heard the rustling of clothes as they sat next to you.

You dared to take a glance, and saw Race sitting next to you, looking at the wall in front of him. He noticed your glance, and took it as an opportunity to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

The gentle gesture was enough to send more tears streaming down your face, and you allowed yourself to lean into him as you quietly sobbed. The two of you remained there for a long time, the only sound breaking the silence being your sobs. Once your tears had subsided, you took a timid breath.

“You were right.”

Race glanced sideways at you before looking back to the wall in front of him. “

“I didn’t want to be.”

Race went silent. From the position you were in, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking as the two of you sat in that dark, empty hallway. Was he mad? He surely had to be, that’s what best friends were supposed to feel. Or maybe he was hurt that you hadn’t believed him the first time. But Race he didn’t make any move to speak.

“It was just nice, y’know?” You croaked, “to feel like somebody wanted me in that kind of way. That doesn’t happen a lot.” It felt pathetic to admit it, especially to Racetrack Higgins, your best friend, and the boy you had been pining over since Freshman orientation. He stayed quiet.

You couldn’t take his silence, Race was not the quiet type. You pulled back from him to look at him properly. You were presented with an expression that you had never seen in the entire time that you’d known him. He looked frustrated, scared, conflicted, and sad. It was a miracle that he could fit so many feelings into one expression.

But when his eyes met yours, there was that ever-present gleam of fondness that he always seemed to have, and his expression softened the slightest bit.

“Race?”

“Well that’s just stupid.” He said firmly.

You pulled back a bit, recoiling from his words, “It’s not stupid to want to be wanted-“ you started, your voice shaking with not-quite-gone emotions.

“-no but it’s stupid that you’ve ever felt like you weren’t” he cut you off before you could finish your sentence. He looked so certain at his own words, jaw set, as if there was no doubt in his mind that he was right, but you could see sorrow behind his gaze.

You exhaled, trying to calm down. Of course, he was just trying to be nice and make you feel better. He had no idea of the feelings that you’d been harboring for what felt like ages. You knew you were wanted, but you wanted him to want you.

From the start he had always been able to draw you in. He was magnetic. When he was around, it was never a question of being wanted, you knew that you were.

You shifted your position so that you and Race were shoulder to shoulder. You stared at the wall across from you.

“I know my friends all love me Race, I do… Sometimes I just want more from life, y’know?”

You felt him looking at you, “What is that even supposed to mean? Ain’t your friends enough?” His eyes searched yours, “Ain’t I?” his voice cracked ever so slightly.

Closing your eyes, you felt too tired to hide anymore, “You are more enough Race, you’re my best friend and I am grateful for that every day.”

“Then why are we crying in the hallway?”

“Sometimes I just want more,” you looked over at him nervously, “with you.”

He blinked at you for a moment, as if what you had just said was taking time to process, “More with me.” He echoed.

You nodded hesitantly.

“Like…” Race said slowly, “like romance?”

You nodded again, “Like romance.”

If your life was going to end right now, at least you had a good run. He was going to reject you. He was going to kindly let you know he only saw you as a friend and that you two could remain such, but nothing more. You were about to face the second rejection of the night, the second time you were faced with the fact that you weren’t desirable, not in the way that you wanted to be. That you were just another one of the guys to him. And the tragic part of it all was that you couldn’t blame him, not for a second. People couldn’t control their feelings; it wasn’t his fault nor yours that he didn’t feel the same way.

What you didn’t expect was for him to smile, his eyes glowing as he looked over at you. “If I’d have known that I would’ve asked you sooner”. His smile grew bitter, “Would’ve saved ya from Oscar Delancey.”

You froze, you didn’t blink or breath as you processed what he had just said. The implication that if you had just waited… if you had just hoped a little more, that you’d be slow dancing with Race instead of crying in the hall over a guy you never even liked. You pondered it for a moment in your daze, the thought of being loved by him.

You felt tears well back up in your eyes for an entirely different reason, a fragile joy filling your chest, as you turned to your best friend and gently brought a hand up to hesitantly cup his face.

“Were you actually going to ask me?” You whispered, lips upturned in a hesitant smile, hope spreading in your chest like its own little sun.

Race looked at you, and you recognized it, that look he had a couple nights ago. You recognized the adoration in his eyes as he looked at you, the love that had always been there that you had brushed off as just a friendly thing. Just something that was so unique to him.

Something that was so unique to him specifically when he was looking at you.

“I kept chickening out; Albert was about ready to do it for me the day he asked you about it.” He whispered back sheepishly, letting out a small, breathy laugh. “And of course by then, I’d already missed my shot. You can’t imagine how freaked out I was that the girl of my dreams was going anywhere with a Delancey brother of all people.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a stray tear falling from your eye, “I only said yes to him because I was afraid, you’d never ask.”

“You wanted me to?” He leaned ever so slightly into the palm of your hand, his eyes studying yours.

You couldn’t help yourself. You leaned in, pausing when your noses brushed, waiting for him to push you away or pull you close or to do anything.

And when your lips connected, it was as if everything fell into place. Your free hand found its way to Race’s hair, his hands to your shoulder, then waist, pulling you in as close as he could. He was warm and smelled like some cologne that he probably borrowed from one of the guys. You felt his hands grip your waist tighter still, as though he was afraid of letting go. You ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, rubbing your other thumb slowly over his cheekbone. You’d be able to die happy now that you knew that Race was an amazing kisser.

Finally, after a moment that felt like eternity, you pulled back, smiling wider than you could ever remember smiling, resting your forehead against his. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you.”

“You mean we could’ve been doing this the whole time?” Race’s eyes were closed now; he looked at peace.

You let out a soft laugh, noticing his eyes crinkle in amusement as you did, “I suppose we could have, but that wouldn’t have been nearly as dramatic.”

King Reinhold grunts as he hastens his pace even more, moving to catch his daughter by the wrist. Once he does so, he tugs gently and makes her turn back to look at him. He does his best to give his sternest look, but they both know at heart he could never be tough and cold towards his only child, no matter the situation.

“Seraphina, I beg of you,” he starts. “Please just choose a knight of your liking. It will comfort me more than anything to know there is someone by your side at all times, ready to defend you.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want one,” she says, taking her hand back and starts marching again, “because they’ll be hovering around me all day, all night like some annoying fly I can’t swat.”

The king heaves out another deep sigh, almost resigned. “They won’t hover as much as you think. They’ll just keep you in their line of sight at all times– well, that sounds like I’m proving your point– but still! My child, I swear by the heavens, I will not bother you as long as you take one right now. The finest ones are lined up in the great hall right now, ready for your choosing.”

Seraphina halts abruptly, and the king staggers slightly to avoid bumping into her. She then turns around and meets her father’s eyes, a determined look etched across her face.

“Father, you know that I don’t need protection. I don’t need anyone.”

A silence falls for a second, both of them arriving at a similar thought. However, he shakes his head at her, disagreeing still. 

“Other kingdoms grow bolder, Seraphina. I must insist you take one, or else this matter will never be left alone.”

The father and daughter lock into a staring duel, forcing the other to back down by sheer will and tenacity. When she knows that her father won’t back down on this, it’s her turn to let out a resigned sigh. She doesn’t answer him, but she does trudge towards the great hall. It earns her a satisfied hum from the king, whom she could only roll her eyes at.

It isn’t a long way to the great hall, and in under a couple of minutes, she and the king find themselves in front of six queues of knights and knightmaidens, each line with seven individuals. They stand steadfast and still, awaiting words from their rulers. 

A shiver runs down Seraphina’s spine just by looking at the number of people who are under their disposal. It amazes her that she has that much power, but she herself knows that she has no interest in wielding it. At the current state of her life, all she wants is to be in solitude, kept away from the world that seems to be beating her down no matter how much she has already fallen.

“Well then,” the king says, a little chirper this time, “the Princess will now choose the loyal knight who will remain by her side to keep her away from harm at all times. As you have been briefed already, I trust you know the strict rules of prioritizing the Princess’s safety and survival above your own lives.”

“That’s quite an exaggeration, father,” she grumbles under her breath but dares not object to the king in front of his subjects. She has learned in her many years of living that men have that kind of pride that is easily shattered when countered in public.

King Reinhold sends her an encouraging smile then nods his head towards the present candidates, giving her the signal to proceed with the selection. In contrast, she gives him a small frown but steps forward nonetheless to begin.

She scans the room, left with no choice but to give in to her father’s plea. She wears a more unreadable expression now, not wanting to show any emotion and have it used against her. She swears that she’ll keep her distance from anyone. She always does.

A glimmer of shine catches her eye for a split-second, and she turns slowly towards the direction it came from. It was light that reflected off of the most golden hair she has ever seen in her entire life. Electric blue eyes immediately meet hers, and she’s rendered thoughtless for a moment, just taking in the immense purpose pooling in those orbs.

Unknowingly, Seraphina’s jaw drops ever so slightly, and before she can stop herself, she’s already pointing at the blonde knightmaiden staring straight into her soul.

“You, Dame?”

The knightmaiden immediately trudges forward, each step ringing across the great hall. She kneels before the two of them and speaks, “Paige of House Beaumont, at your service.”

Something about this knight intrigues Seraphina, but she chooses not to dwell on it for now. She simply nods at her father, reaching a silent agreement. She looks back at Paige one last time, quirking an eyebrow upward lightly, before stepping back and moving into the comfort of the shadows once more.

She’s done what’s asked of her, so she must make the most of the remaining moments of freedom she has left before her chosen one becomes a lingering shadow for the rest of her years.

Seraphina notices Paige before she can hear her. Often, the knight is a presence at her back, measured and unhurried. She’s never close enough to intrude and never far enough to disappear. By the time she reaches one of her destinations within the castle, she already knows where Paige would station herself: just one pace behind, angled slightly toward the nearest exit in case trouble arises.

Their days are what she could only describe as suboptimal. She had her expectations of having a knight on duty from sunrise to the dark of the night, but this, by far, is the worst experience yet. 

Paige is not an unpleasant person in essence, she admits to herself, but the way the knight treats her irritates her throughout her entire being. Every morning, Paige presents herself at her door with the same precision and guarded look, incredibly far from the first time they met each other’s eyes. Her armor is polished, helm tucked beneath her arm, and posture rigid enough to pass for indifference. “Your Highness,” she would always greet, bowing her head, “today, I am at your service once more.”

Any other royal would mark her performance with flying colors, but it doesn’t come across that way for Seraphina. For her, the way the knight treats her makes her feel she’s back in a makeshift tower, locked away from the freedom she always seemed to be running after. Paige is like her childhood prison– just in human form now.

Even at this time, when she is within the confines of the palace grounds, sipping afternoon tea and reading in their vast garden, Paige is around the vicinity. Often, she is just a short distance away, watching the surroundings like a hawk. Once in a while, she repositions herself silently when others approach Seraphina and converse with her about some matters. She is an unwavering presence, standing guard while the princess reads, studies, and– for heaven’s sake– when she bathes. 

‘To be fair, I am most vulnerable when bathing and naked,’ Seraphina says to herself, deep in thought as she processes the interactions she’s had with her sworn knight so far.

When nighttime comes, Paige comes in with the handmaiden who attends to her personally. She stands still, with eyes averted to give Seraphina the privacy she needs as the handmaiden prepares her for respite. The princess feels rather awkward, unable to gauge what her walking prison might have going on in her head, but once Paige and the servant leaves the room and Seraphina’s head sinks into the soft mattress, all her worries are deferred to the next day.

Once, Seraphina surprises her servants by greeting them first way too early, already in her daily wardrobe. She tells them there’s no need for them to attend to her for the morning, swiftly walking past, with Paige trudging closely behind.

She leads the two of them to the upper gallery, making her way near the edge, overlooking the inner bailey. She then raises her head a little then closes her eyes, feeling the first rays of the sun warm her skin.

“You can stand beside me and watch the sunrise,” she mutters to Paige, but she doesn’t open her eyes to see whether the knight does what she suggests.

Moments of silence pass, and she peeks slightly to catch a glimpse of Paige. To her pleasant surprise, she finds the lady not rigidly standing for once. In her eyes are soft emotions as they take in the colors and the scenery the sun has produced. 

Seraphina smirks a little, folding her arms. “So you can relax.”

Her knightmaiden is caught off-guard, immediately turning the other way. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

The princess chuckles. “It’s not like I’m going to report you for slacking every once in a while.” She rests a hand on Paige’s shoulder, offering the slightest of smiles. “Let’s make this a bit more bearable for the both of us. You don’t have to be so stiff, and I– well, I don’t have to have a guard an arm away at all times.”

Paige chews on her lower lip, obviously hesitant. “Can I at least be a leg away at those times then?”

She stares up at the taller girl, as if her blinking could check whether she had heard the knight right. Then, she bursts out a laugh that her mother would definitely deem not very princess-like of her. Paige evidently panics, steps backward, and kneels, hastily muttering apologies.

Seraphina clutches her stomach to stop herself from laughing, to avoid the nosy passersby who might spread whatever interpretation runs wild in their minds.

“You’re a funny one, aren’t you?” she finally manages. “I thought we wouldn’t be able to get along, but now, I feel a little differently.” 

Seraphina smiles a bit more, holding out her hand for the knight to take. Paige takes it with reluctance, then stands tall, observing her master’s features.

“A leg away’s better than an arm away, Dame Paige.”

Paige’s lips press into a thin line until one edge quirks so very slightly. She shakes the princess’s hand in one firm motion. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

It was nothing worth summoning a physician for, but Paige insisted on seeing it anyway.

The two of them were just walking around the garden that slow afternoon when Seraphina had misplaced her hand and accidentally cut herself on a sharp thorn. She had winced in pain and out of surprise, but it wasn’t anything serious– nothing that wouldn’t clot and heal in no time.

Paige, on the other hand, had taken it too seriously.

“Sit,” she says, not unkindly, and she reaches for a piece of linen tucked into her belt. Seraphina obeys, more out of curiosity than necessity.

She makes her way towards the stone bench nearby and does as told while Paige kneels in front of her. The way her knight moves is precise, practiced, evident that she’s accustomed to lowering herself without making it feel like deference.

Paige takes the princess’s hand with care, turning it gently with the palm facing upwards as if it’s some artifact worth more than one’s life. Seraphina takes note of how warm her grip is through the thin glove she has not yet removed. She peels away the leather only then, slowly to avoid startling Seraphina, and begins examining the cut with a furrow of concentration that seems excessive for so small a wound.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Seraphina tells her, shrugging.

“I know,” Paige replies. “Still.”

The knight cleans it anyway. The touch is brief and efficient, yet unavoidably close. Paige’s thumb is steadying her wrist, and her breath is warm where it brushes against Seraphina’s knuckles. 

The princess finds herself watching the way Paige’s brow smooths as she finishes the task she has come up with on her own. The side of her lips twitch upward in amusement as she observes the way Paige’s shoulders eased once she was satisfied.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Seraphina says, taking her hand back now.

Paige doesn’t look up. She just stands and moves a step back to give her her space. 

“I do.” 

The knight’s answer is immediate. Certain. It lingers in the space between them longer than the contact itself, and Seraphina wonders why that is so. 

She has always been intrigued with the way their interactions go, whether it involves words or just mere eye contact. The moment they first met and stared at each other, until today’s short exchange, Paige has always been a wonder to her. She has become someone Seraphina wants to crack open and unravel the hidden mysteries– “get to know,” is how the normal person would say it.

Something that no one has ever made an effort to do with her.

“Say, Paige,” the princess begins, standing up as well and walking back towards the palace, “do you ever wish you’d been assigned elsewhere? That I didn’t pick you?”

She doesn’t look back to scrutinize the other lady’s expression, but for some reason, she feels that there is a certain honesty etched into her features in this instance.

“No, my lady,” Paige answers from behind assuredly.

Seraphina stops, caught off-guard by the sincerity of it. Paige looks at her with mild confusion. 

“For a knight,” the princess turns back and says after a moment, face adorned with a small smile, “you are remarkably decisive.”

Paige blinks back at her. “It seemed a simple question.”

Seraphina’s smile widens ever more. “Most people take longer to lie.”

Something in Paige’s composure finally shifts. It may be almost imperceptible to others, but the princess doesn’t fail to notice. The tension in her shoulders eases once more, as if a weight she had been holding by habit had been lifted, just for a short breath. A quiet sound escapes her before she could catch it, a resigned yet amused chuckle. Not quite a laugh, but close enough to surprise them both.

Paige straightens at once, clearing her throat. “Apologies, Your Highness.”

Seraphina tilts her head, studying her with even more interest. “For what?”

“For forgetting myself.”

The princess regards her for a long moment, the gears turning in her head as she tries to understand her knight’s actions for the past several minutes.

“You’re allowed to exist beyond your duty, Paige,” Seraphina tells her, tone even and encouraging.

Paige hesitates. “I… I am aware.”

The princess leaves it at that and turns to start walking again, and once she looks away, the faintest hint of a smile lingers at the corner of Paige’s mouth– something finally unguarded and real.

The eerie silence wakes Seraphina up in the dead of the night. 

Normally, her sleep would last uninterrupted until her attendant called her name the next morning, asking if she was ready to bathe and dress up. However, tonight, she wakes abruptly, finding the quiet that night extremely odd. The corridor beyond her chambers had gone flat, and there were no distant foot steps for at least an hour now. Even guards who were supposed to be on rotation weren’t annoying her with their too loud whispers. 

She slowly gets up and fixes herself up, putting over a coat, and calls quietly, “Paige.”

Paige was already moving.

Her hand comes up– not to draw her sword, but to signal stillness. Seraphina watches her profile sharpen, attention narrowing, and posture coiling into readiness to tackle anything or anyone. Paige listens not with her ears alone, but with her whole body, the way only predators could. The way soldiers and knights survived.

Seraphina rises silently and moves towards her, heart beginning to beat harder for the person now positioning herself between the royalty and the door. Paige steps even closer, one arm extending slightly, a silent instruction to remain behind her.

The handle turns.

A masked individual moves fast once the door bursted inward, wood splintering as they lunge through the opening. Their blade is already arching toward the space where the princess’s heart would have been, had Paige not intercepted it.

Steel rings against steel. 

Paige meets each blow from the assassin head-on, their swords flashing up just in time to parry the other’s attacks. Their boots slide across Seraphina’s bedroom floor as the two clash and absorb each other’s force.

The princess stumbles back, breath catching, vision narrowing to the brutal efficiency of the fight unfolding before her.

The assassin is not some common hire. Their movements were precise, economical even. Every strike is aimed not to kill Paige, but to disarm her and pass her– to reach Seraphina.

Paige notices not long after and adjusts the moment she realizes. She shifts her stance, turning defense into offense. She tries to drive the assassin back with a series of sharp, controlled strikes, forcing them away from Seraphina and back out, where noisy footsteps can already be heard rushing to the bedchamber. 

Seraphina presses herself against the wall, pulse roaring in her ears. She should run right now. She should scream, or summon the guards and make them hasten their paces even more, but she couldn’t. She’s frozen, unable to tear her gaze away from her knight.

Suddenly, the assassin feints, then lunges low. Paige parries, but not cleanly enough. The blade slips past her guard, slicing into her side. Blood starts darkening the leather at her waist.

“No,” the princess breathes out, like she was the one who had been struck.

Paige did not cry out though. She just retaliates immediately, driving the assassin back again, but her movements had changed enough for the attacker to take advantage of. She’s a fraction slower, a fraction heavier, and the assassin doesn’t fail to catch it.

They press on, forcing Paige backward, step by step toward the balcony doors, and there would be nowhere left to retreat for her.

Seraphina’s chest tightens at the sight. This is wrong. This shouldn’t be happening. But it is, and it’s because of her yet again.

Paige stumbles once, and the assassin surges forward, blade raised for a killing blow. 

But the princess feels something inside her snap. Her fury unfurls, and the light answers her before she could consciously reach for it. It envelopes her entire being, brilliant and blinding, with the air itself seemingly bending to her will. The radiance erupts from her in a single, devastating beam that’s too fast to even follow or process. It strikes the assassin mid-motion, shooting straight through their earthly body and instantly taking their life. They stagger for a moment until the body falls and stays limp on the ground, unbreathing.

The light fades as quickly as it had come, leaving behind a ringing silence and a scorching smell. 

Seraphina sways, feeling lightheaded from using what she had been told to keep within her at all times. Paige doesn’t waste a second and is by her side, steadying her at once. The knight gives her a look, eyes still wide, but at least they don’t look like they fear her. 

“You’re hurt,” she murmurs, eyeing Paige’s side that had been hit. 

“It’s nothing,” Paige says automatically, even as blood soaks through her armor.

“Sit,” the princess snaps. Her fingers are already glowing faintly as she presses them to her side. The light softens, completely opposite from the harsh one emitted a while ago. Slowly, the torn flesh knits together beneath her touch. 

Seraphina’s hands tremble.

“We’re going to the king and queen’s chambers,” Paige tells her decisively. “Now.”

The princess looks at her, breath still unsteady, and nods. Paige doesn’t wait for anything anymore. She slips an arm around Seraphina’s back to anchor her, and guides her toward the corridor. 

The world beyond her bedchamber suddenly feels too overwhelming, and there’s a ringing in her ear that won’t go away. The torchlights flares painfully against her eyes, and every step sends a dull echo through her bones, as though the whole palace remembers what she had just done.

Guards flood the hall within moments, blades drawn, faces tight with alarm. They freeze when they see the body sprawled at the other side of the room.

“Clear the passage,” Paige orders, voice ironed flat, and they obey without question.

Seraphina keeps her gaze forward as they move. She doesn’t look back at the assassin. She knows better than to linger on corpses.

The walk to her parents’ chambers feels longer than usual, with each turn of the corridor serving as another reminder of how deeply the keep has failed her tonight– how it forced her to do something she wouldn’t have done ever since that day in her younger years. She can still feel the magic humming faintly beneath her skin, restless, seemingly displeased at having been restrained after all this time, only to be unleashed in such violence.

Paige’s presence at her side is the only thing keeping her upright.

The doors to the king and queen’s chambers are thrown open at once when the guards realize it was Seraphina approaching.

Her mother is already awake, expression sharpening the instant she sees the blood on Paige’s armor. Her father rises not long after, the lines on his face deepening as his gaze flicks from the guards, to Paige, then to his daughter.

“What happened?” the king demands.

Paige steps forward and kneels, regardless of the wound that has only just finished healing. “An assassin breached the princess’s chambers,” she reports. “They were neutralized.”

His stare falls on Seraphina. She doesn’t look away.

“There were signs of prior surveillance,” Paige continues. “This was not opportunistic. The attacker was trained– specifically to bypass palace guards.”

Silence settles, heavy and suffocating.

“And?” the queen pushes softly.

Seraphina feels her throat tighten, and her pulse begins to quicken even more. This is the moment she has been taught to avoid. She has always been taught to delay it, to keep it hidden and buried under layers of protocol and secrecy.

“She used her power,” Paige continues, although everyone in the room already knew beforehand that she was going to say that. Seraphina appreciates still that she says them not accusatorily, but that they are simply true.

Her mother closes her eyes and exhales.

“So it has come to that,” the king murmurs.

Seraphina finds some courage to step forward. “I lost control,” she admits, though the words feel inadequate even as they leave her mouth. “They were going to kill her.”

Her parents’ gaze snaps to Paige, sharp, with something dangerously close to fear.

“Leave us,” the queen orders the other guards. “All of you.”

They hesitate for a second before retreating completely, shutting the doors behind them.

The king approaches Seraphina carefully, fearing that she might shatter under any more pressure. “You did what you had to do, my child,” he tells her. “I’m sorry, but this also confirms what we fear.”

“That they’ll just keep coming,” she affirms flatly.

Paige remains kneeling, eyes lowered, but Seraphina can feel the tension radiating from her. She hates this– how Paige has been dragged into something she never asked for. She hates it even more that the truth now sits between them, unavoidably present and just… there.

“I underestimated them,” her father says apologetically. “And I underestimated how far they would go to reach you.” He straightens, resolve hardening. “That ends tonight.”

The changes are immediate, and Seraphina isn’t surprised.

She can feel the people before she can even see them. The air is dense with lingering exhales, and there is that uneasy sense of being watched from too many angles at once. By the time she is escorted back to her double-checked chambers, the keep has transformed around her. Guards line the corridors where there had once been quiet stretches of stone. Knights and knightmaidens stand rigid near every archway, eyes forward and hands folded, making vigilance itself their posture.

Her door no longer closes behind her with privacy– it seals.

Inside, her attendants move swiftly and silently, preparing her for respite with a reverence that borders on fear. They do not even meet her eyes. Everything is simply efficient, rehearsed, and stifling.

Paige is the only constant.

She stands by her bed, helm tucked beneath her arm, posture alert but restrained. She doesn’t watch Seraphina like the others do. She watches her the way she always has: as someone real, someone who hasn’t changed in her eyes after all that has happened.

The attendants withdraw at last, and Seraphina feels like she can finally breathe. She crosses her room, stopping short of the balcony doors. The moon glistens, shining down on the melancholy atmosphere draped all over the castle.

“They’ve doubled the guard,” she mumbles.

“Yes,” Paige replies.

“There are people inside my chambers.”

“Yes.”

Seraphina closes her eyes. “I feel like an artifact being stored in some sacred hall.”

Paige pauses before saying, “I am sorry.”

That makes the princess open her eyes and look at her. “For what?”

“For the way they look at you now. For the way they will continue to look at you.” Paige frowns slightly. “It is unjust.”

Seraphina lets out a quiet, humorless chuckle. “It won’t change.”

She steps closer to her knightmaiden. The shift in distance feels enormous in a room where every other boundary has been stripped away.

“Are you afraid of me?” Seraphina asks quietly.

Paige answers immediately. “No.”

The princess searches her face, the line of her jaw, and the steadiness of her gaze. Her eyes flicker to the girl’s lips for a fraction of a second before she meets her electric blue eyes again, noticing her slightly widened pupils. “You saw what I did.”

“Yes.”

“You know what I am.”

Paige’s stare drops for a short instant as well before she brings her eyes up again. Her brows furrow slightly in quiet disagreement. “I know what you can do, Your Highness.”

It is a small distinction, but Seraphina is taken aback all the same. Something breaks open in her chest, and she lays her head against Paige.

“I never wanted this,” she mutters, words slipping past her lips before she can stop them. “I was told to keep it contained, to be careful– as if the restraint would make me less visible.” Her hands curl into fists against Paige’s leather. “And now, they want to build a fortress around me and call it protection.”

Paige is silent for a long moment. Then, she wraps her in a warm embrace, saying carefully, “You are not wrong to be angry.”

Seraphina laughs softly, surprised at her words. “Most people would tell me I should be grateful.”

“I am not most people.”

The admission settles between them. Seraphina doesn’t pull away. If anything, she leans even closer, the steady warmth of Paige’s presence grounding her more effectively than any shield ever has.

For a while, they simply stand there. The keep breathes around them– stone cooling, torches burning low, the distant murmur of guards changing shifts beyond her walls.

Seraphina lifts her head at last. “You could have asked to be reassigned,” she says softly. “No one would have questioned it. Not after what took place.”

Paige’s arms loosen, but she doesn’t let go entirely. “That thought never occurred to me, Your Highness.”

She tilts her head, studying her face in the dim light. “You don’t hesitate much, do you?” she remarks with a small smile.

The knight huffs a breath that might almost be a laugh. “Only when it matters.”

Seraphina steps back slowly, turning toward the balcony again and stepping out into the cool night air. The moon hangs low, pale and watchful. She rests her hands on the stone railing, feeling the chill seep into her palms, the complete opposite of the light that shot out from them.

Paige follows, stopping half a step behind her out of habit, then correcting herself, moving to stand beside her instead.

“They will never stop. Not now, when they’ve seen that.”

“No,” Paige agrees. There’s no putty in her tone, only truth.

Seraphina exhales slowly. The light beneath her skin stirs in response, waiting for her next move.

“I spent so long believing that if I stayed alone, small enough, existing carefully, they would overlook me. As if power ignored was power undone,” she says, shaking her head lightly. “Tonight proved how wrong that was.”

She feels Paige watching her closely. She says nothing, and simply gives her the space to arrive at her own conclusion.

“I don’t want to be hidden,” Seraphina finally admits, “and I refuse to be used.” She turns to Paige fully now, moonlight catching in her hair, her eyes bright with determination. “If this power is mine, then I will learn it. Master it. So that no one can decide my fate for me again.”

Paige inclines her head, not in deference, but in respect. “Then I will stand with you. As your equal.”

Her words send a shiver through Seraphina’s body, and a warmth blooms in her chest, much more gentle and contained. The light flickers beneath her skin, no longer tied to anger or panic. It responds to the certainty and the choice she had made.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes.”

“Even when knowing what this may cost you?”

Paige nods. “I chose this the moment I swore myself to you. I am simply choosing it again.”

Seraphina swallows. “Then stay with me, will you?”

The knight’s expression softens. “I won’t go anywhere.”

Seraphina smiles at her and turns forward, overlooking the capital. 

Whatever comes next will not be easy, but as she stands there, shoulder to shoulder with Paige, she knows this much with unwavering confidence: she is not some artifact, or some weapon waiting to be claimed. She is a sovereign force, and she has chosen who stands beside her when the world comes calling.

images except the dividers belong to respective creators; found in pinterest. links: https://pin.it/6oA21cmTK; https://pin.it/VyyayOQrL; https://pin.it/4wiulYFmk.

it’s been a while since you’ve gotten relax fully, usually spending the night staring at the soft glow of your laptop at 2 a.m. when your eyes were too tired to focus but your brain refused to quit. you hadn’t gone out, hadn’t let yourself relax, hadn’t even realized how tightly wound you’d become until now as you stepping out into the afternoon sun.

the breeze hit your face, warm and a little humid, and you blinked against the light like you were seeing campus for the first time. everything around you buzzed as you glance over to a group of students laughing way too loud, to someone blasting music from a speaker, to a couple kissing under a tree like they hadn’t just suffered through biochem together, probably.

and then you saw her.

paige was leaning against the railing just outside the building, decked out in her uconn basketball gear like she always was—navy blue nike tech fleece, matching sweats, and her blonde hair pulled back into a loose bun.

she held up a coffee and a small paper bag (probably a sweet little pastry) with both hands, lifting them up as soon as she spotted you.

“yo, there she is,” she grinned, a silver chain glinting under her hoodie as she tilted her head.

you couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face, breath caught in your throat for a second, then laughed as you shook your head.

“how long have you been waiting?” you asked, walking towards her.

paige pushed off the railing, walking over like she had all the time in the world, one brow raised and mouth tugged into that goofy little smile she always seems to wear.

“just got here,” she teased, handing you the coffee. “how was it? you good?”

you took the cup from her, fingers brushing against hers for just a second too long you—warm skin, calloused in places from years of basketball.

“thanks… it was fine,” you muttered, already feeling the heat seep through your palms. “i’m just glad it’s over. finally.”

paige looked at you for a moment, then licked her bottom lip, eyes scanning your face the way she always did when she thought you weren’t paying attention.

you shook your head again, smiling into the cup as you took a sip, and tried not to notice how good she smelled—like cologne and clean laundry and something that always made your stomach twist just a little.

it was just paige. your best friend.

paige watched you while you weren’t looking.

you didn’t catch it—not fully—but if you had, you would’ve seen the way her smile slipped just a little as her eyes trailed over your face, lingering on the curve of your mouth, the way your lashes fluttered when you blinked down into your coffee, the soft breath of relief you let out like you were finally alive again.

and then, too fast for you to notice, she cleared her throat and looked away, pressing her lips together like they hadn’t just parted like she wanted to say something real.

“aight, come on,” she said, nudging your shoulder lightly with hers before stepping off the curb.

you walked in beside her automatically, like you always did.

“what’s in the bag?” you asked, glancing at it with a curious smile.

paige looked over at you, then back at the bag like she’d forgotten she was even holding it.

“mm,” she hummed, eyes squinting from the sun. “just a lil’ somethin’ sweet.”

you raised a brow, surprised. “is it for me?”

“obviously,” she said simply, flashing a grin. “’cause you don’t ever treat yourself. figured i’d help.”

you laughed under your breath, looking away before she could see the flush rising in your cheeks.

you assumed it was nothing. paige always did little things like this.

the two of you walked like that for a while, side by side, and all the while, the blonde was trying not to look at you the way she actually wanted to.

she’d been in love with you since the first time you met, and it was stupid, really—how fast it hit her. you were pretty. that was the first thing she noticed when she saw you in the gen ed class a couple years ago. gorgeous. soft-spoken. kind. and smart as hell. and you didn’t exactly know her yet. you didn’t really care for sports that much then until you became friends with her. you’d almost never missed a home game when she was playing.

and for paige, since then, she’d been completely, helplessly stuck on you.

but you were focused. you always had your head buried in a book or a study guide, always chasing the next goal. relationships and dates weren’t exactly a priority for you. and paige respected the hell out of that.

maybe that’s why she never said anything. never let it slip how much she thought about you, how your laugh always had the power to make her laugh, how your lip curled when you were deep in your thoughts, how you’d always manage fall asleep on her dorm bed when you guys were supposed to be studying and she’d sit there quietly to watch you with a smile before pulling her blanket over you. she’d make sure to set her alarm clock early enough so you don’t miss your classes.

she’d convinced herself being near you was enough.

and maybe it was.

until it started to feel like it wasn’t.

she was about to say something when you reached the steps outside the student center—nothing big, just ask what you were doing tonight, maybe see if you wanted to chill at her place, lowkey so she could selfishly keep you to herself a little longer—and she’d just opened her mouth when—

“oh my god, there you are!”

you barely had time to turn before riley, a friend of yours, appeared out of nowhere, practically bouncing with energy. her braid whipped behind her as she rushed up and wrapped an arm around your shoulder like she hadn’t just taken her last final an hour ago.

“finals are done!” she shouted like she was announcing it to the whole quad. “you’re coming to the party tonight, right? you’ve got to.”

you blinked, caught off guard.

your eyes flicked to paige instinctively, checking to see if she was gonna say something first. but she froze—her lips pressed tight into thin smile as she looked at riley.

riley grinned between the two of you and bumped your hip.

“c’mon, paige, tell her! she never even goes out. i swear this girl hasn’t left her room to go anywhere else except the library or a basketball game since freshman year.”

paige laughed a little—tight, forced.

“uh… yeah. nah, you guys should celebrate. y’all deserve it.”

she regretted it the second it left her mouth.

her stomach turned because you looked—just for a second—disappointed. like you’d been hoping she’d say something different. something just for you.

you nodded slowly, lips twitching as you were trying to figure out how to react.

“yeah, i’ll… i’ll think about it,” you said.

“yes! i’m texting you later, you better not bail!” riley clapped her hands, oblivious. then she turned to paige with a playful squint, “shouldn’t you be at practice, bueckers?”

“oh shit,” paige muttered, snapping her head down as she fumbled for her phone with one hand, nearly dropping the paper bag in the process. she thumbed the screen awake and squinted at the time. “damn… i was supposed to be there ten minutes ago.”

you looked at her, half-smiling. “go. geno won’t be happy.”

but paige didn’t move.

not right away.

she stayed turned toward you, jaw tight, her hand coming up to scratch the side of her head softly like she was trying to work something out in her head. her eyes found yours again.

she nods her head, finally deciding to follow your orders with a smile.

“yeah,” she said, her voice low—just for you. “okay.”

something in her tone made your breath hitch—not quite flirty, not quite serious, but something in between.

then her phone buzzed in her hand—twice.

probably a teammate. maybe geno.

she cleared her throat, finally stepping back with a quiet groan, dragging her hand down her face.

“aight. i gotta dip,” she said, backing up toward the sidewalk. “but make sure to eat that thing i got you, okay? i’m not tryna hear you skipped lunch again.”

you lifted the paper bag slightly and gave her a soft nod.

“thanks, paige.”

her lips curved into a grin. “anytime, ma.”

then she turned and jogged off, hood slipping back over her curls, her long strides already pulling her into the distance.

͏✶

you ended up going to the party.

you hadn’t planned to.

the party wasn’t really your scene. it never was.

you’d shown up mostly because riley wouldn’t let up, blowing up your phone all evening. so you threw on a simple dress, a little bit of your usual makeup, and told yourself it was just for an hour. two tops.

the party was already packed by the time you showed up. the living room of whoever’s off-campus house this was had been turned into a humid jungle of music and bodies, red solo cups stacked like pyramids on every surface, and someone yelling every ten minutes for no reason.

you stuck close to riley at first, sipping something fruity drink she handed you without asking, trying to find your footing in the crowd.

you weren’t really built for this scene, not in the way riley was.

you ended up near the kitchen, tucked into a quieter corner where the music didn’t shake the floor. that’s when he found you.

matt.

you remembered him from your sociology class last semester—he sat two rows behind you, always had clean notes. nice guy. maybe a little shy, always had a pen tucked behind his ear, and he asked solid questions during lectures.

but riley, standing a couple feet away with her drink in hand, kept giving you that look saying… go on. flirt. say yes.

you roll your eyes playfully.

“hey,” he said, a little surprised but genuinely happy to see you. “i didn’t think you came to stuff like this.”

you shrugged, smiling politely. “i usually don’t.”

“well… glad you did,” he said, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside you. “finals were hell, huh?”

you nodded, both of you laughing a little at the shared trauma. it was nice, the way he talked—easy, casual, nothing pushy.

but of course, riley popped up next to you halfway through the conversation.

“nice to see you finally hitting it off with someone,” she said with this knowing smile, eyes bouncing between the two of you.

you shake your head, cheeks warming. “we’re just talking.”

“mmhm,” riley said, bumping her hip into yours. “no, this is good. don’t mind me—just pretend i’m not even here.”

matt chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “uh, yeah. i was just asking her about post finals plans…”

“great question,” riley cut in like she was your hype man. “she has no plans. she’s free. totally available.”

“riley…” you shot her a look, somewhere between please stop and i’m going to kill you, but she just grinned. she meant well—she always did. she just thought you needed a little push.

you turned back to matt, trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer. “uh, anyway… how’d you think you did on that sociology final?”

he answered, and you listened, but the whole time you felt like your thoughts were somewhere else.

somewhere… or with someone.

but when matt, looking a little nervous, said, “so hey, uh… i was thinking—if you’re not too busy now that exams are over… maybe we could go see a movie this friday?”

you froze. not out of fear. just confusion.

your eyes darted to riley. she gave you a thumbs-up like you were about to step onto a stage.

your heart beat once. then twice.

“uh… yeah,” you heard yourself say. “sure. that sounds nice.”

fuck.

his eyebrows raised and he smiled. riley grinned wider than you’d ever seen her grin. and you should’ve felt proud. excited, even.

so why did your chest feel tight?

why did it feel like you’d done something wrong?

͏✶

you didn’t text paige right away when got back to your dorm.

you laid in bed for a while, makeup barely rubbed off, the party still ringing in your ears. your dorm was quiet now—your roommate gone for the weekend, the halls dead silent except for the occasional door shutting or someone’s music humming through the walls.

after a minute, you grabbed your phone, thumb hovering for a second before you gave in and opened the chat.

you: what are you up to?

you stared at the screen, heart already fluttering like you were fourteen again, like you hadn’t just said yes to some guy two hours ago.

the three dots appeared almost instantly.

paige: just got back from getting crumbl with the team. coach ran us hard today not even gonna lie

you smiled to yourself.

you: you tired? i can let you sleep lol

paige: nah i’m good. i’m tired but i like talkin to you. what’s up

you: riley dragged me to the party

paige: wow that’s impressive tbh soooooo how was it??

you paused, biting your bottom lip.

should you say it? it wasn’t a big deal. right? best friends tell each other these things.

your fingers hovered. then you typed.

you: so matt from my sociology class asked me to go to the movies with him sometime i said yes idk i think i just panicked

you waited.

and waited.

you saw the three dots pop up. your heart skipped. then the dots vanished.

you frowned, shifting in your bed, phone warm in your hand. a few seconds passed. they popped up again.

then, gone.

your stomach twisted.

then finally, they came back again.

paige: oh that’s cool

you stared at the screen.

three little words. dry as hell. no playful joke. no “u better tell him i’ll beat his ass if he messes it up”—none of the usual teasing, none of the softness she always texted you with, even when she was dead tired.

that’s cool.

you blinked, rereading it like maybe it’d change if you looked hard enough. your chest felt weird. not heavy exactly—just… unsettled.

you typed something. deleted it. typed again. deleted again.

you: yeah he seems pretty nice i guess

no reply.

you watched the screen like it owed you something.

and then, after a long pause—

paige: that’s good

nothing else.

why wasn’t she saying anything else? you could tell she was holding back. you could practically feel it through the screen.

and for some reason, that made your throat tighten. because you didn’t want her to be distant. you didn’t want her to just be cool with it.

on the other side of the campus, she wasn’t cool with it at all. not even a little bit.

she was laid out in her bed, one arm slung over her eyes like it could block out the heat crawling down her neck. her phone rested on her chest, screen still lit up with your message.

matt from my sociology class asked me out… i said yes.

“man, what?” she muttered to no one, heart pounding.

she was jealous. of course, she was.

but she should’ve seen it coming. should’ve known somebody else would shoot their shot eventually. you were smart, funny, gorgeous. hell, paige could barely go five minutes around you without wanting to touch your hand or kiss the corner of your mouth just to see how you’d taste when you smiled. honestly, she’s pretty proud of her strength.

so yeah. of course some dude was gonna ask you out.

but fuck, it hurts more than she’d like to admit.

she couldn’t even be mad at the guy. not really. but the thought of him sitting next to you in a dark movie theater, brushing fingers over the popcorn bag, leaning over to whisper something… kissing you—fuck, that made her want to throw her phone across the damn room.

she didn’t know how to say it, though. didn’t know how to tell you it bothered her without sounding upset.

she sat up, rubbed her hand down her face, then grabbed her phone again and stared at the chat.

yeah, he seems nice i guess

her jaw clenched.

she typed a bunch of things before sending a message.

you really like him?

deleted it.

typed again.

he’s not even your type tho.

deleted that too.

she tossed her phone to the side the second she finally sent a message and laid back down, arms crossed over her chest. she’d wanted to ask you to hang out tonight. just the two of you.

jealous was an understatement.

she felt miserable. she wasn’t even mad at you. not even close.

she was mad at herself.

for waiting too long. for playing it cool too well. for pretending she was fine just being your friend when every second spent next to you made her want more.

the idea of anyone else getting to have the version of you paige had been in love with since the moment you said hi to her felt wrong.

you didn’t even know what you were doing to her.

and the worst part?

she couldn’t even say it.

because you were just friends. best friends.

͏✶

it’d been three days.

at first, you didn’t think much of it.

you figured maybe she was just tired. practice, finals, team meetings, whatever. she’d said she was swamped. you told yourself she’d come back.

but then she didn’t.

you didn’t see her the next morning, or the one after that. no lazy walk across campus together like usual before classes, before practice.

just a couple dry texts saying “slept thru my alarm lol” or “coach called an early practice. my bad.”

you wanted to believe it. but it didn’t feel right.

paige wasn’t the type to flake. she’d shown up for you more times than you could count—when you were sick, when you were stressed, even that one time you almost cried in the middle of midterms week and she literally skipped film review to sit with you in the library and make you laugh.

so this felt weird. is it because of matt?

you stared at her last message.

your thumb hovered over the keyboard, debating whether to say what you really wanted to say or just brush it off like she clearly wanted you to.

but the truth was, it was starting to piss you off a little.

because you didn’t do anything wrong.

because it felt like she didn’t care.

or like she did, but chose to hide it from you.

you wanted her to just say whatever was on her mind.

something you thought a best friend would want to know.

you had wanted her to care a little more.

but you weren’t gonna chase someone who didn’t want to talk to you.

you tossed your phone onto your bed and let out a frustrated breath, arms crossed tight over your chest as you sat back in your desk chair, the silence in your dorm suddenly louder than ever.

if she was mad, she should’ve just said it. if she didn’t want to hang out, she should’ve just said that.

because paige always seemed to speak her mind.

now, she wasn’t.

so you decided to go see her.

you didn’t really think it through.

you just stood up, grabbed your hoodie, slipped on your shoes, and walked out. you honestly had no idea what you were even gonna say when you got there.

the walk to the girls’ basketball dorms wasn’t long. you knew the route like the back of your hand by now. you’d been there more times than you could count—movie nights, study sessions, lazy nights where paige would half-doze off on your shoulder while some random netflix show played in the background.

but tonight was different. honestly, you just… missed her. you missed her more than you were upset. and you didn’t know how to say that.

you made it to her floor, knocked softly.

you heard movement inside. muffled voices. the creak of the door.

it opened slowly, and there she was—paige, standing barefoot in sweats and a loose uconn tee, her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun on her head like she’d been napping.

she blinked at you, caught completely off guard.

“oh, hey…” she breathed, voice a little scratchy. “what are you doin’ here?”

her eyes scanned your face like she was trying to figure out if something was wrong, if you were upset, hurt, mad—anything.

but you didn’t say anything yet. you just looked at her. and she looked at you.

“oh, shit—” jana piped up from behind her, lounging on the bed with her phone still lit in her hand. she looked between the two of you with a raised brow, then smirked like she knew exactly what was going on. “i’ll head out.”

paige turned, “uh—”

“it’s okay, i’ll go annoy kk and aubrey,” jana said quickly, already grabbing her charger. “y’all… have fun. i will be bak to sleep, though.”

she squeezed past you with a grin and a knowing glance before disappearing down the hall.

paige rubbed the back of her neck, stepping aside so you could walk in. you did, slow and quiet.

the room was a little messy—hoodies tossed on her desk chair, a gatorade bottle half-drank on the nightstand, her slides kicked off at the foot of the bed. the tv was playing something muted, but paige picked up the remote and shut it off without a word.

she turned to you, hands on her hips now. her eyes were tired, but they softened the second she really looked at you. and that look alone made your chest pull.

“you okay?” she asked, quieter now.

you nodded slowly

“i just… haven’t seen you.”

paige pressed her lips together, jaw flexing for half a second. she looked down at the floor, then back up at you.

“yeah,” she said. “i know. my bad.”

she meant it. you could see it all over her face.

paige sat down slowly on the edge of her bed. she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together, eyes fixed on the floor, trying to avoid your eyes.

you stood there for a second, unsure if you should sit too.

but you did—right beside her, the mattress dipping as you sat.

you spoke first.

“you said you’ve been busy?”

paige didn’t answer right away. her eyes stayed on the floor. her foot tapped once. twice.

then, finally—

“uh, yeah,” she said. “i’m sorry.”

you glanced at her, taking in the slope of her shoulders, the small furrow between her brows.

“are you mad at me?”

paige let out a dry little laugh, not unkind, just tired.

“no. never that.”

you waited. gave her space to say more.

and after a moment, she did.

“i just been… trying to stay in my lane, i guess?” she said, afraid of saying too much. “you’ve got shit going on. i don’t wanna mess that up.”

you tilted your head. “mess what up?”

she shrugged. “i mean—someone asked you out. that’s… that’s good, right? you deserve that. somebody to treat you nice. do all that movie and dinner shit.”

your heart twinged a little.

“we’re not even—” you started, then sighed. “it’s just one movie, paige. it’s not serious. really.”

she nodded slowly, still not looking at you. but her jaw clenched again.

“yeah… still. i don’t wanna be all up in your space if you wanna, you know… see where that goes.”

you stared at her then, finally realizing—she wasn’t just being distant. she was pulling away to protect something. maybe you. maybe herself. maybe both.

you reached over, nudging your shoulder lightly against hers, “you’re never all up in my space. i… i actually didn’t like not seeing you.”

paige’s lips pressed together to form the tiniest smile. her voice was almost too soft to hear.

“yeah?”

you nodded.

“yeah.”

she swallowed hard, fingers playing with the drawstring of her sweats.

she was scared.

maybe that’s why she hadn’t said anything.

why she bit her tongue that night you texted her about it. why she ghosted you a little.

because the truth was—paige was scared as hell.

not scared of you. not even scared of rejection.

she was scared of losing you. she’d rather stay quiet than lose you completely.

this friendship meant too much. you meant too much.

and yeah, she’d wanted more for a long time. she’d dreamt about it almost everyday. stubborn little dreams she kept buried deep, like kissing you goodnight on the nights you stayed over, or holding your hand without needing a reason. she’d replayed the sound of your laughter, the way your smile looked, the way you looked at her and imagined what it would feel like to press her lips against yours. to feel you beneath her fingers, her palms, hands that were calloused and bigger than yours.

but she really didn’t wanna fuck it up.

because if you didn’t feel the same way… if you looked at her and only saw your best friend…

that would be it. no do-over.

so paige sat next to you, heart pounding in her chest, blue eyes locked on the floor, still pretending like everything was normal.

you sat quietly there for a moment, fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your knee brushing lightly against paige’s.

so you glanced at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “i’m nervous about it, actually.”

paige looked up, finally meeting your eyes.

the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease, but her eyebrows raised slightly like she wasn’t expecting you to say that. like she thought you’d be excited, glowing, already picking outfits and… all that.

“the movie?” she asked, trying to be casual.

you nodded slowly. “the whole thing. just… going out. with a guy. like that.”

she didn’t say anything right away. and if she was trying to keep her face neutral, she was failing just a little.

you kept going, letting the words fall out before you could overthink them.

“i’ve never really done any of it. dating. being out with someone. i think the last date i went to was in high school… and i can barely even remember any of it. i’ve had crushes, sure, but nothing ever really… happened.” you breathed in through your nose. “and now i said yes and i don’t even know what i’m doing.”

paige’s licked her lips, but she didn’t speak. her eyes scanned your face like she was memorizing it.

“i mean, what if it gets awkward?” you mumbled. “what if he tries to kiss me and i… i don’t even know how to—”

you stopped yourself, cheeks burning all of a sudden.

paige blinked. sat up straighter, her brows raised even higher now.

“you never kissed nobody before?”

“i have, stupid.” you blurted out fast, but glanced away soon after, embarrassed. “just… not like… that.”

she leaned back a little, nodding slowly. she didn’t tease you. didn’t laugh. but something in her chest cracked open, just a little.

now, all she could think about and look at were… your lips. how soft they looked. like they were calling her in.

all she wanted to do was be the person you felt safe with.

you were still staring down at your hands, thumbs twisting the fabric of your sleeve, when paige said it.

she didn’t know what made her say it.

“i… i could show you?”

and then it was like all the oxygen got sucked out the room.

you looked up, eyes wide, lips parting just slightly.

and paige—

fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck.

she blinked, sat upright like she could somehow backpedal physically—

“i didn’t—i-i mean—” she let out a breath, raking a hand over her face. she laughed, but it was awkward and nervous and too high in her throat.

you didn’t say anything. you were just looking at her.

and that was somehow worse.

she sat forward, elbows back on her knees, face in her hands for a second like she could disappear there.

“yo, ignore me. it’s late… i-i just—i don’t know what i’m saying—“

she was talking fast now, trying to fill the space, trying to pretend like her heart wasn’t racing and her palms weren’t clammy and her lips didn’t suddenly ache.

god, she wanted to throw herself out the window.

i could show you. what the fuck was that?

she rubbed the back of her neck, still not looking at you, her voice dropping to a grumble.

“sorry… forget i said anything.”

and then—so quietly she almost missed it—paige heard you whisper:

“…okay.”

her head shot up like she wasn’t sure she actually heard you right. eyes wide, lips parted, breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat.

“what?”

you were already rambling, the same as she was, like the words were tumbling out before you could stop them.

“i mean—not like for real for real, just—just to, like, try. not a whole thing, i just—I don’t know—i mean, only if you want to. obviously. if that was a joke, then—then forget it—”

“no,” paige cut in quickly, almost too quickly. “no, i wasn’t playing.”

her voice cracked just slightly at the end, and she cleared her throat, sitting up straighter. her heart was pounding so hard she thought you might hear it.

“you sure?” she asked softly.

you nodded, just once. small. shy.

and her stomach flipped.

paige let out the tiniest breath as if she’d been holding it since you walked through the door. her shoulders dropped just a little, and the corner of her lips tugged up, that slow, crooked little smirk curling on paige’s lips as if she’d just remembered exactly who she was.

your face flushed instantly the moment you saw her smile, and paige bit back a grin, watching the way your lips parted.

the nerves from a moment ago vanished, replaced that same confidence she carried everywhere with her.

you squinted at her, giving her a look, “you’re being cocky.”

paige’s eyes flicked to yours, her grin widening before she shook her head quickly—lying straight through her teeth.

“i’m not,” she said.

she absolutely was. and she knew it.

you raised a brow, and she chuckled—deep and a little smug now, clearly loving the way you were already squirming.

then she scooted closer on the bed, so close now her thigh pressed against yours. her arm slid behind you slowly, palm resting flat against the mattress just barely behind your back. her fingers curled like they were thinking about reaching for your waist, but she didn’t rush it.

she was warm beside you—close enough for you to smell her perfume, feel her breath, see the way her lashes lowered when she looked at your lips again. her fingers tapped lightly against the bed behind you, brushing your lower back. her touch was barely there, but it was all you could think about.

paige leaned in just a little more, her breath brushing warm against your cheek, before murmuring softly.

“close your eyes,” she whispered.

you did. slowly.

and the second your eyes fluttered shut, paige froze. just for a moment.

her breath caught in her throat. her heart kicked hard against her ribs.

holy fuck.

her eyes roamed your face—so close, so trusting, your lips parted just slightly, your chest rising and falling like you were bracing for something you didn’t even understand yet. and somehow, somehow, you wanted her to be the one to teach you.

her fingers flexed against the mattress, resisting the urge to wrap around your waist like they wanted to. her throat was dry, her head spinning. she couldn’t believe this was happening.

she exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing thoughts, but it was no use.

is this really happening?

she tilted her head, just a little, lips hovering.

paige was already going through it before you even closed your eyes. you, sitting on her bed, in that big oversized hoodie swallowing your frame but not enough to hide the fact that you were wearing a skirt underneath, knees brushing hers when you sat down next to her.

you looked so good it made her chest ache. but it wasn’t just how you looked—it was you.

and now, you were sitting in front of her, eyes closed, waiting.

you looked so pretty like this.

god.

it took everything in her to keep it together.

paige reached up with one hand and brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

she smiled.

then, finally, you felt her lips brush yours.

paige kissed you slow. and sweet. her lips felt like the softest thing you’d ever touched. you could feel the warmth radiating from her mouth, and the slight tremble beneath her lips that told you this made her nervous just as it made you.

her other hand drifted down without her realizing it, settling gently on your thigh.

you responded without thinking, your hand creeping up to rest over the fabric of her shirt at her chest. your fingers hesitated for a second, then your fingers slid up, tracing the curve of her shoulder before reaching around her neck.

paige’s breath hitched slightly against your lips, and you felt the tiniest tremor in her body, surprised by how close you’d gotten.

she was nervous—damn near shaking—but also so fucking sure of every little thing happening.

you taste so good.

all those nights she’d imagined this moment played over and over in her head, every detail perfect, every touch just how she dreamed it would be. she’d wondered what it would feel like to kiss you—really kiss you—not just in her daydreams but for real.

and fuck, it’s even better than she imagined.

paige pressed her lips a little deeper, letting the kiss deepen slowly, humming against your lips. and, just as her mouth moved softly against yours, she felt it.

a tiny, breathy gasp escaping you, so soft it was almost swallowed by the silence. the faintest, tiniest moan, barely there, against her mouth.

it was so small, so delicate, paige almost thought she’d imagined it.

her breath hitched. her heart slammed against her ribs.

paige’s fingers dug just a little into your thigh, desperate for something to hold onto, inching slightly underneath the fabric of your skirt.

and paige knew, right then, she was completely, utterly, deliciously addicted to every part of you.

she wanted more. needed more.

fuck—

she pulled back just slightly, her breathing shallow and ragged.

she knew she was getting carried away. losing control faster than she wanted to admit.

so she paused, her forehead resting softly against yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt.

“can i keep going?” she whispered against your lips.

you blinked slowly, your breath still fluttering from the kiss, heart pounding in your chest like a drum. the warmth of paige’s hand, rough and calloused from years of basketball, on your thigh sent a shiver up your spine.

you met her eyes and nodded almost softly.

“yeah,” you whispered back, barely more than a breath. “please.”

your fingers twitched, fingertips scratching the back of her neck.

paige’s smile deepened, her eyes sparkling with something fierce and tender all at once, and without another word, she leaned in again and—

“yo, can i come in now or what?”

jana’s voice called from the other side.

you and paige pulled away from each other instantly, breath catching in your throat, your hand falling from her neck as her palm slid quickly off your thigh.

paige blinked, dazed, like her mind hadn’t even caught up to her body yet. her lips were still parted, her eyes still locked on yours like she couldn’t quite believe what just happened.

then she turned toward the desk, slowly, glancing at the clock glowing on her nightstand.

1:27 a.m.

she shut her eyes tight and dropped her head forward, letting it hang for a second as she exhaled hard. not at jana. just at the timing. at the fact that her favorite kiss in the world had just been cut short.

damn it.

“i-i should…” you started, voice shaky, still catching your breath, “i should probably go.”

paige looked up at you, her heart twisting. she didn’t want you to. not yet. but she nodded anyway.

“yeah… yeah, okay,” she murmured, rubbing the back of her neck.

you stood up slowly, brushing your hands against your skirt, then looked back at her, lips parting, unsure of what to even say after all that. your cheeks were still warm and your heart was beating a mile a minute.

“t-thanks for um…” you paused, swallowing. “for showing me.”

paige looked at you then. she nodded once, lips tugging into a lopsided smile.

“anytime,” she said, a little hoarse.

she pushed herself up on her feet, her hand brushing against her sweats like she wasn’t sure what to do with it now—whether to reach for you again, or just let you go.

she shifted her weight awkwardly, glancing at the door, then back at you, a little hesitant to speak.

“do you want me to walk you back—”

but you were already shaking your head, offering her a small, flustered smile as you stepped toward the door.

“n-no, it’s okay,” you said quickly, eyes darting anywhere but her. “i… i can walk on my own.”

paige’s mouth opened slightly like she wanted to say something else, but she didn’t push. she just nodded, once.

“aight.”

and she watched you reach for the door, her chest still rising and falling. her fingers twitched at her side, wanting to hold you there.

but she stayed still.

and when you glanced back at her one last time, paige just looked at you—eyes soft, jaw tense, heart full of a million things she still couldn’t say.

“get home safe,” she said gently. “text me when you’re in.”

you nodded again, your hand tightening around the doorknob.

“i will.”

you opened the door just as paige stepped up behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her all over again.

and there stood jana, arms crossed, one brow lifted, clearly waiting.

“well damn,” jana said, smirking as her eyes darted between you and paige. “finally.”

you gave her a soft smile, feeling the heat spread across your cheeks, “hey, jana. sorry, i didn’t mean to take up your room this long.”

jana just waved a hand, stepping aside so you could pass, “don’t worry about it. i was just getting a little sleepy. i think p. boogers over here forgot we have practice early tomorrow morning.”

you gave a quiet laugh and tucked your hands into the sleeves of your hoodie, glancing back one last time. “goodnight, guys.”

paige held the door open, silent, her eyes glued to your back as you walked down the hall. she didn’t say anything. she just stared. and watched as you disappeared around the corner. only when she couldn’t see you anymore did she finally close the door.

then she dropped her forehead against the wood with a groan. long. loud. half frustration, half complete emotional combustion.

jana raised an eyebrow from across the room, already toeing off her shoes, “so y’all kissed or what?”

paige reached blindly for the nearest pillow and launched it at her.

“shut up.”

jana caught it, laughing as she plopped onto her bed.

“ooh, y’all kissed.”

“yo. shut. up.”

You click your tongue again. “I might just beat your ass, Lyss. But I’ll spare it for Nai,” you tell her, looking at her girlfriend with a grin.

DiJonai blows you a kiss. “Sit down, now, boo. Y/n just missed us, for sure.”

You roll your eyes again, but don’t hide the small smile that had formed. 

It’s always a great time whenever you’re with your two friends, even if it means third-wheeling often. You’re one lucky person for getting that general math subject that had you sharing a long table with them. The three of you had been inseparable since your second year in college, even if they did break up at one point. Man, did you play the role of such a great mediator. Or was it just that one foul?

Things are great now, except for the fact that you’re getting a little tired of watching them get lovey-dovey every other minute. You seriously need to up your flirting game in the bars because this situation has not been giving for years now, even if you love the two to death.

“You guys are paying. I paid last time,” you quickly point out, giving the menus to them.

“Wrong,” NaLyssa narrows her eyes towards you. “You paid like five bucks and we shouldered the rest. Besides, GIS has been paying you well. Why are you so stingy?” She sticks out her tongue at you childishly before turning towards DiJonai and urging her to side with her.

“Whatever. Let’s talk about this later,” you say, cutting your banter short. “We have got to talk about what’s new. I haven’t seen you guys for six months!”

You thoughtlessly dig into the croissant that arrived pretty quickly (props to this cafe’s service!). Lyss throws a look at Nai, who tries (and fails) to suppress a knowing smirk. That’s when you feel it: there’s some scheme brewing between the two of them. You put down your utensils, opening your mouth to say your piece but Lyss beats you to it.

“What we actually need to talk about,” she begins, leaning back like you three are in a courtroom, “is your poor lovely. Or, you know, the lack thereof.”

You let out an audible groan, making a few heads turn your way. “Oh my god, can we not-”

“No, we have to,” Lyss insists, holding up a finger. “Because based on your latest dump in our groupchat, the last guy didn’t exactly pan out.”

Nai giggles behind her cup. Traitor. 

“That was just a silly little dump. It’s not a big deal.”

“You called him a walking beige flag, y/n,” Nai deadpans.

“He was!” you argue, trying to keep your noise at the minimum even if you’re clearly frustrated after having to remember walking beige flag Nick. “He likes spoilers! He wouldn’t get into the movies with me unless I told him spoilers that would fuel his interest.”

The two of them laugh, but NaLyssa doesn’t forget and keeps pressing. “Okay, but still. Why is it always like this with you? You’re funny, you’re nice most of the time–” she dodges the napkin you throw at her, “– you’re hot and got your life together.”

You slump in your seat, frowning at your coffee. “I don’t know either.”

They grow quiet, letting you talk this time.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, guys,” you say, sadness evident. “I really do try. I go out, I swipe, I show up on dates even when I’d rather stay home with a glass of wine and binge watch new series. But every time, it’s just feels like… like…” You fiddle with the straw, trying not to sound ungrateful or as broken as you feel. “I don’t know. They’re either weirdly intense and emotionally unavailable. Even when they’re nice, I still don’t feel like I can form the kind of connection I want with them. I can’t find anything that feels like it’s for me and for the both of us…”

You look up slowly, scared of their reactions. You know they’re not the type to pity, but their sympathy sure looks like it. 

You raise your head a little and see them watching you quietly. They don’t look like they’re judging– they never did judge you– just… like they know something but can’t tell you. Somehow, that’s worse.

“What?” you ask warily, avoiding eye contact again.

Lyssa taps the edge of her plate. “We’ve been thinking about this. We have an idea.”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard it yet!”

“They usually get me in trouble!”

DiJonai grins at you. “This one’s good, promise.”

“I’m actually scared,” you mutter.

NaLyssa sits up straighter. “I’m setting you up.”

You narrow your eyes at the couple. “With who?”

“With P.”

You squint even harder. “‘P?’ That’s not even a good-sounding codename. Don’t mess with me, Lyss.”

“I’m not messing!” she says innocently, even raising her hands up in surrender, hoping to convince you.

You study her expression for a while, then look at Nai, who simply gives you a warm smile. They look serious and genuine. Maybe this is for real. Besides, they’ve never messed with you during times that counted. You don’t think they’re about to start now when you just opened up your heart to them in public.

“But all this is suspicious. Who the hell is P anyway?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Okay, I’m out.”

“Look,” NaLyssa starts, “I wouldn’t mess with you on this.” She pauses. “Okay, maybe a little because I like the drama, but mostly because I’m dead serious! C’mon, you trust us, right?”

You stare at her, unmoving, contemplating hard.

“P’s cool! I swear. Just gotta talk ‘P’ into it too, then we have a date set, yeah?” NaLyssa leans forward with a small, reassuring smile on her face this time. “Tell you what. Why don’t you pay for our meal today, and I’ll pay for that date with P? That’s how much I’m serious about this. I think it’ll actually work out, n/n.”

You’re scared. You’re confused. You know you can always trust your two closest friends, but going on a blind date is something new and is definitely not your thing. It can go wrong in so many ways and yet… you’re also curious. 

“...Fine,” you agree at last, exhaling heavily. “But I swear, Lyss, Nai, if this turns out bad, I’m never going to go on whatever you set me up in again.”

Lyss throws her head back, laughing, while Nai beams at you. 

NaLyssa corners Paige after practice that day like a woman on a mission. They may not be in the middle of a high-stakes game, there may be no coach calling a timeout with the score tied, but somehow, her stare is just as intense as during those moments.

“Don’t make plans this Friday night,” she tells– mostly commands– Paige, stepping in line beside her as they head to the locker room.

Paige raises an eyebrow at her as she pulls back the hair tie that kept her hair in a low messy bun. She then puts a hand on her hip sassily, “You say that as if I don’t have an actual life, Lyss.”

“You don’t,” NaLyssa fires back, smirking. “You watch Netflix in bed on your precious iPad or rewatch old Huskies games when you’re bored. I’m your teammate. I know this much.”

“I also cook,” Paige counters while she gets her things out for a quick shower. “Do know that I did make a scrumptious salmon last night.”

NaLyssa claps with an expression that says she’s the opposite of amused. She’s not playing games for her homegirl. “Okay, congrats. Now cancel whatever Pinterest-looking dinner you had in mind. I’m setting you up, and it’s on Friday.”

Paige pauses mid-zip. “You’re what?”

“Blind date.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Paige lets out an exasperated sigh. “Because, the last time you set someone up, it ended with you chasing them both down a parking lot while Nai screamed at you for playing matchmaker badly.”

“Okay, yes, that wasn’t my best work,” NaLyssa grumbles. “But this one’s different! She’s solid, I swear. She’s Nai and I’s best girl.”

Paige shoots a skeptical but half-curious look as they hit the shower room. “Who’s that best girl?”

“You’ll meet her Friday,” Lyss says, biting down a grin.

“I’m not going on a date with someone I don’t know. What if she’s weird?”

NaLyssa slaps her arm lightly, taking offense for you. “She’s not! She’s smart, funny, and put together but also manages to be chaotic. Type A by day, the personification of crazy existential crisis by night. Definitely your type.”

Paige huffs, still not buying it. “Now you suddenly know what my type is?”

She scoffs, “Please, you’re easy to read from your crushes. This girl checks all your boxes.”

Paige’s lips tug into a thoughtful line. There’s a moment of silence as they fix their things to get into the shower cubicles. “...she know it’s me?”

Lyss hesitates. “Not… exactly.”

The younger girl gives her a pointed look.

“She knows it’s someone I know. Someone pretty cool. I codenamed you ‘P’ but I didn’t say your name.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re intimidating when not met in person!” NaLyssa chuckles nervously. “You’re like, Paige Bueckers. Golden girl. No.1 pick. She’ll freeze up if she knows she’s talking to that teammate of mine. I want her to get to know you without the whole pedestal thing.”

Paige groans. “That’s not fair to her. You’re taking away her choice. What if she doesn’t wanna deal with all the complicated things that come with me?”

She pats Paige on the back. “She has the choice. She said yes after I told her enough. That it’s someone I trust, someone cool and easy to talk to. And she knows it’s a date. That’s all she needs.”

Paige chews on the inside of her cheek, mind already spinning with different scenarios. She’s not the type to date much during the season, given that she barely has time. But she’d always told herself that if something felt genuine, she can always make space for it. Even now, the idea of a blind date with a girl Lyss trusts doesn’t totally scare her. She just doesn’t want it to be some game, especially if Lyss and Nai cared about her deeply.

“Who is she to you again?” Paige asks carefully. “A friend? Cousin?”

“Friend from college. Been with us through our wildest years.” NaLyssa smiles at the memory. “She’s someone who certainly deserves to meet a partner who’s not going to make her settle.” She shrugs nonchalantly at Paige. “I don’t know, man. Gut’s telling me that’s you.”

That makes Paige blink. “What do you mean?”

“She’s been trying hard,” NaLyssa explains. “You know the type who goes on dates with guys who say all the right things but still feels everything’s wrong– like something’s really wrong. I don’t think she’s ever had a shot at something that could actually fit. I think this will, though.”

Paige sighs, rubbing her temple. “You’re really trying to sell this, aren’t ya?”

“That, and the fact that I wouldn’t bother if I didn’t think you’d actually get along.”

There’s another pause. Paige tries to picture things on her mind: meeting a stranger in some cozy cafe or casual bar, trying not to come off like an awkward WNBA player with regressed rizz. But then again… maybe she doesn’t need to perform if this girl is who Lyss says she is.

“I’m not making small talk for two hours,” she warns her teammate. 

“You won’t have to,” NaLyssa says, “that’s how great I think she is for you. Worst case scenario, you’ll get a free dinner and a story to tell during breaks in practice or your next date.”

Paige stares at her. “I’m hoping for a better case.”

NaLyssa grins. “Trust me. You’ll forget about texting me about the night because you’ll be too busy texting her, asking her if she had fun or telling her to sleep well.”

Paige rolls her eyes, finally disappearing into the shower cubicle. “If she’s weird, I’m calling you mid-date.”

“Fair. But you won’t be.”

“You’re paying if it goes south.”

NaLyssa lets out a laugh. “I’m paying for the dinner, Paige. I’m giving her the money beforehand. That’s how serious I am about this. ‘Sides, that’s the only way she’ll agree to go– and also pay for our bill last time…”

Paige chuckles, imagining the conversation they must have had for all this to come together.

“She sounds smart.”

“She is,” NaLyssa agrees softly.

“Fine,” Paige finally concedes. “Text me the time and place. But if you ruin my Friday night, I am so making you do laps at practice.”

Her friend shows a thumbs up with a flashy grin. “I’ll run them with pride. But I won’t have to because you won’t regret it. I promise.”

For once, Paige kind of believes her.

It’s a few minutes past the supposed meet-up time, but you don’t mind. You’re crazy nervous to care about how your date might be a bit late, or worse, how they may stand you up. 

You almost told NaLyssa you were going to back out because blind dates really aren’t your thing. But somehow, you power through the anxiety and wait patiently at the table your friends reserved for you. 

There’s honestly no knowing what you can expect for tonight. The guy could be weird, for all you know. They could secretly be a creep and just haven't shown that side to Lyss and Nai yet. There are a hundred different scenarios running through your head about how this night could go about. 

Still, you hold on to  how genuine NaLyssa was when you endorsed this date to you. For sure, she might be scheming about something on the side, but you trust her and know her enough to understand that she was really serious about this. She’s your friend after all. You just hope to god she has good taste, or knows your type modestly.

Your fingers tap on the table restlessly, just wanting this night to be over with. 

“Hey, you’re y/n?”

You look up, a little startled by the semi-deep voice. You’re even more stunned when you see a blonde, too tall for your own good, smiling down at you. Her hands are shoved into the pocket of her dark pants. She’s familiar, somehow.

“Table No. 6… right?” she follows up.

You finally come to your senses and answer, “Yeah… Are you… P?”

She nods, rocking a little on the balls of her feet. “Yeah. Paige.”

Paige.

It rings in your head until everything finally clicks. She’s that Paige. Paige Bueckers. Your eyes flicker towards her, and you confirm it again with those blue eyes that have always captivated social media. You suck in a breath, not really expecting Lyss and Nai to set you up with their basketball superstar teammate. It’s certainly not on your bingo card to have a date with someone who looks like she just walked out of a Nike campaign right now.

You study her for more time, letting her shift uncomfortably on her feet under your scrutinous gaze. You don’t understand why a girl like her is here because… you aren’t into girls, as far as you know. And NaLyssa knows that too. Why would she set you up with someone of the same gender– even more incredulous, someone who’s so well-known?

“You’re a girl…” The words fall out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and she takes a second to register what you just said.

“I– sorry, but what do you mean?” she asks, looking like her brain is short-circuiting.

“I mean…” you start, trying not to let it show in your face how confused you are. “NaLyssa told me she was setting me up, and I expected it to be a guy because she knows I’m straight.”

Paige blinks. “Oh.”

“Oh,” you repeat, pursing your lips.

The silence that follows is brief but dense. Your heart is pounding in your ears. This is truly a shocker, and you have no idea how to handle situations like this. Truthfully, what was NaLyssa Smith even thinking?

“I’m sorry,” Paige suddenly says. “I thought this was gonna be like… already cleared up.”

You chuckle softly, still trying to catch up on what’s happening. “Yeah, same. I mean, I only agreed because Nai said the guy was cool and not a creep so…” you trail off, half-embarrassed. This is honestly so mortifying. “Mix-up, perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” Paige repeats as well, murmuring it. There’s something unreadable on her face as she looks at you. It’s like she’s debating whether to sit or just turn around and save you both the trouble. You’re hoping she decides for the both of you because you really don’t have a clue on how to deal with all this.

You keep in a sigh, slightly annoyed at your friends. Of course Lyss and Nai would do something like this, and to be fair, they did own up to plotting something on the side. You just didn’t expect it to be this kind of… messy? 

The waiter appears like some kind of divine intervention. “Good evening, ladies. Is there any problem before I hand out the menu for the night?”

You look at the girl, silently giving her an out. She could easily back out now– say sorry, thanks, and good night. 

But instead, she lets out a small breath and slides into the seat across from you. She sends the waiter a smile and says, “We’ll take the menu.”

You blink a couple of times. “You sure?”

Paige shrugs with a smile. “Already here. Might as well see what kind of company I got stuck with.”

You scoff, but get her humor, so you can’t help the small smile on your lips. “Lyss really has the cockiest friends.”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was bad company!”

“Good,” you stick out your tongue, “because I’m great company.”

There’s a brief pause, like the two of you are mutually settling in for the date night– though you’re not very sure if it’s still that kind of date. You watch as she pulls the menu closer and scans it casually, like there’s nothing weird about this at all. It works for you anyway, because it makes you feel a little less weird too.

The both of you place in your orders not a moment too long. It takes a short while to come, and in that pocket of waiting, you actually talk.

Paige tells you about her team, how she spends half of her year traveling, and how Lyss once made her do karaoke at a birthday party and she’s still not over how good she sounded. You also find out many other things about her like her usual hangouts with her UConn team at Ted’s, and how it’s a miracle she hasn’t been banned from it after making the Dirty Shirley stock run out many times.

Of course, you share as much as she does, partly because Paige is actually a good listener. You tell her about how you met the two girlfriends you’re mutually friends with. You tell her about how the two of them forced you to go to parties because they thought you were too focused on academics, and you admit that you did have fun in the end and learned to not be too uptight. You smile as you recall your memories and describe them to Paige, and you’re having fun telling her all the stories because of her side comments.

It’s only when the food comes that you realize how natural the conversation has become. You almost forgot how it started in the first place.

“So,” Paige says, taking a bite and looking at you, the sides of her lips upturned, “this a friendly date then?”

You snort softly. “What else could it be? Last time I checked, I’m not into girls.”

She hums while chewing her food. “Maybe you’re just in denial. What if you get to know me and fall for me?”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “I should call Lyss. Her friends are dangerously cocky.”

“Kidding! I swear.” She laughs, full and bright, and you can’t help but marvel at the sound. “Tell me why you said yes to this blind date though, if that’s okay,”

You go quiet for a second– not the awkward kind, just thoughtful. Then you reply, “I don’t usually do stuff like this. But I don’t know… like I told Lyss and Nai, I keep on showing up for the people I meet, and sometimes, they’re good. But in the end, I always feel like nothing’s clicking with them. I can’t form the kind of connection I want with those men.” You shrug slightly. “I don’t know. Something new might be nice for me, so I just said yes.”

There’s something knowing behind Paige’s eyes as she takes in your confession. You don’t pry though, since it looks like a very deep thought, with all the gears churning in her head. 

“That’s pretty deep,” she finally says after a minute. “I get you though. It can be pretty exhausting trying to find something and failing to do so every time you try.”

You nod, fiddling with your fork as you let her words sink in. 

“Yeah, exactly,” you murmur. “Sometimes it feels like I’m on autopilot with these people. Like I’m going through the motions hoping something finally clicks.

Paige smiles at you– not the cocky kind from earlier, but a softer one. It shows how she’s really empathizing with you and understanding where you’re coming from. It throws you off a little.

“Guess I’m glad Lyss pushed me into this then,” she says, half-joking but somehow sincere as well.

You chuckle. “Guess I am too. Don’t tell her I said that though.”

Paige leans back in her chair and puts a hand over her heart. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Right then, the waiter comes back to clear your plates, and you’re both pleasantly startled by how much time seems to have passed. The conversation had swept you both far enough that you didn’t even realize how packed the restaurant had gotten. 

“Aren’t you glad I stayed?” Paige asks jokingly, nudging your shoulder as the two of you walk out of the building. 

You roll your eyes again. “Okay, Ms. Cocky. But yes, I’m genuinely glad. That was the most fun I’ve had in months. Just don’t tell Nai and Lyss.”

She zips her lips. “Gotcha.” She pauses, then continues, “Can I accompany you home?”

You hesitate. “I’ll manage. Don’t worry about me.”

“Too bad. I’ve decided I’m accompanying you,” Paige replies anyway, a playful grin on her lips.

You don’t argue.

The walk back home is quiet in the nicest way, like something you’d want to bottle up and keep. Paige talks about the streetlights back in Minnesota, and you tell her about how your dog once ate your Economics notes. It’s silly, but warm. It leaves you at peace and wanting for more moments like that, that’s why you’re slightly disappointed when you reach your place.

“Well… this is me.”

She looks up at the building. “Sick place.”

You laugh a little. “Yeah. My parents helped me get it though.” 

A pause.

“Thanks, Paige. I really did have fun.”

She gives you a warm smile. “Me too.”

The two of you don’t move for a while, just lingering there. There’s something you don’t say– something she doesn’t push for now.

“Be safe okay?” you finally say.

“Okay,” she replies, stepping backwards. 

When you disappear into your building, your mind is running a thousand miles. Literally, what the hell just happened and why do you want it to happen again?

The bar is loud that Saturday night. Music is bouncing off the walls, glasses are clinking noisily, and teammates are cackling over shared stories and their drink of choice. It’s a post-practice unwind kind of night, especially with an annoying ass coach who can’t seem to figure the team out. The Wings need this, a night of not thinking too hard and everyone’s just trying to forget their sore legs and the fact that they have to do it all again weeks and weeks more.

But Paige… Well, she can’t stop thinking.

She sits in their booth, a half-empty beer bottle in her hand, and a hundred thoughts crowding every space in her mind. She’s barely listening to the conversation around her.

NaLyssa slides next to her, noticing the faraway look in her eyes. Far too serious for a rookie, she’s probably thinking, along with a couple of jokes to play on her.

“You good?” she asks, nudging Paige with her shoulder.

“Yeah.” Paige nods, then looks at her with a faint smirk. “So… you set me up with a straight girl?”

Lyss winces, but she doesn’t deny. “Okayy. I deserve that.”

Paige only raises an eyebrow, waiting for an apology and explanation.

“I’m sorry,” her teammate offers, but adds, “You don’t seem mad about it though.”

That’s the thing that makes Paige sigh in front of her. She’s not. She really isn’t. Not when the person she got set up with had a great personality. Not when NaLyssa was right when she said you’re going to tick all of her boxes.

Paige swirls her drink absentmindedly. “‘Cos I’m not,” she admits. “Honestly? I had a good time with her. I didn’t expect to, but… she’s cool, gets my humor, smart and endearing as hell. Way too much of a nerd for her own good, but like, in a cute way, y’know?”

“Ooooohhh,” Lyss leans in like she’s about to pry open a juicy secret. “Are you falling in loooove?”

“She’s straight, dude,” Paige deadpans, pulling away from the implication even though something inside her stings a little bit.

Lyss shrugs. “Between you, me, and Nai… we don’t think she’s actually straight.”

Paige’s eyes narrow at her. “What do you mean?”

Her friend shrugs again. “The way she talks about her love life? It’s like there’s always something off about it. Like she’s looking for a certain type of connection but never finds it with dudes. She dates these guys, and she describes it as just… ‘meh.’ Never really clicked with any of them, never lit up over anyone.”

Paige processes this quietly.

“Is that why you set me up with her?”

NaLyssa looks a little sheepish, now that she’s figured her out. “Yeah. honestly? We were hoping you’d be some kind of gay awakening for her… or something.”

Paige laughs, but it’s not the full one, the kind she let out when you two had a date. It dies a little too quickly on her lips.

“She deserves more than a wake-up call,” she tells Lyss, softer now. “If she really is figuring it out… she shouldn’t have to do it under pressure.”

“Then why’d you still sit and go on?”

It’s Paige’s turn to shrug, leaning back against the booth. “I didn’t expect anything, really. Just thought I should be polite.” She then looks down at her beer. “But when she smiled at me– even when she was confused– when she talked about herself, about how tired she was of the failed connections… it just felt… familiar. Nice, at most times too.”

Her friend watches her carefully, and slowly says, “You really liked her.”

Paige doesn’t say anything for a second. 

“Yeah. I think I did.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Because I am.” Paige exhales heavily, half-surprised at her own honesty. “She’s kind of everything I like in a person. Chill, funny, thoughtful, really kind, and doesn’t take herself too seriously in a bad way. We got along so well it actually scared me a little.”

“Scared you?”

“Like… what if she is figuring things out and I’m just in the way? What if she gets there eventually, but not with me?” She slumps in her seat. “That’s fine,” she says, but she’s not convincing anyone. “That’s her journey. But there’s a part of me that hopes, y’know? Now that you said all this.”

Lyss nods. “I get that.”

Paige sighs again. She can’t remember how many times she did that at the thought of you and the relationship she likes to think is blooming. “But it’s not about me, Lyss. She doesn’t need someone to confuse her more. She needs the space to figure things out on her own.”

“She also needs to know that she’s not the problem,” Lyss supplies gently. “That’s why I set this up. She’s been beating herself up for not being able to connect with these guys, but it’s not her fault. Sometimes your heart just… knows. And sometimes, it’s telling you something you’ve been trying not to hear. I think that’s what's going on with y/n, so I’m just trying to nudge it in the best direction I can. I wouldn’t have if I know you two aren’t good for each other.”

Paige goes quiet again. She thinks about your laugh, your eyes when you’re trying not to be amused by her humor. She remembers the way you spoke with such longing about trying to feel something real. Lyss means well, and she realizes she also could be more right than she’s willing to admit.

“She’s hardly the problem,” Paige murmurs. “She’s kind of great.”

Lyss nudges her again. “Okay, dude. Now you definitely sound in love. Stop.”

She glares at her playfully. “Didn’t you want that for us?”

“I… ugh, whatever.”

They both laugh, and the night goes on.

But Paige can’t shake the weight of everything she just learned. Even as the music blares around her, even as her teammates coax her into one drink too many, she finds herself stuck at the memory of your blind date.

Later that night, alone in her apartment, the world is quiet and dim. The city outside her window is muffled by the silent hum of her air conditioning unit. The buzz of alcohol now dulled into a sleepy haze, but she still doesn’t feel tired. If anything, she feels more awake, more alive than ever. That’s why she lies in her bed thinking about you.

She thinks about the way your eyes sparkled a little more by the end of your date. She can’t shake off the soft, pleasant disbelief in your voice when you told her that was the most fun you’ve had in months. Most of all, she’s stuck at the way you slightly leaned toward her without even realizing it.

Lyss’s words echo in her head: “She’s never really clicked with any of them.”

She wonders if maybe– just maybe– you felt a click that night with her. The thought makes her chest ache in a way that’s not entirely nice.

She reaches for her phone, staring at your name in her messages. She debates if it’s too late, if she’ll seem clingy. Should she wait another day?

She types anyway.

Paige: hey u up?

The typing bubble appears almost instantly.

Y/n: yea whyy Paige: can’t sleep Y/n: not my fault hehe Paige: actually it is!! Y/n: oh. whyy?

Paige: jus been thinking about u, and how lyss and i talked abt u

She hesitates before hitting send. But it’s true.

Y/n: she talkin shit or what Y/n: ill dropkick her ass

Paige: no HAHAHA jus thinking how i meant what i said. ure cool as hell. that date wasnt what i expected, but it was definitely better. i dont say that lightly Paige: anw, i genuinely hope u find the one, y/n. ure a great person n u deserve only the best

You take a few minutes to reply this time.

Y/n: youre making me sappy Stop :””) but thanks paige. i hope we both find the one for us. im also kinda tired thirdwheeling nai n lyss lol Paige: ill keep u company next time. then we’ll thirdwheel together, yea? Y/n: i would soo love that

Paige stares at the last message and thinks about what she wants to say next. There’s a lot, to be honest. Too much, maybe. But not for tonight.

Paige: goodnight, sleep well, y/n Y/n: goodnight paigee

She sets her phone down beside her, smiling to herself in the dark.

No matter what this is, or where it goes, she knows one thing for sure: that night with you was something. And sometimes, something is enough to hold on to. For now, at least.

Work has never moved slower the week following your blind date. The seconds tick by like condensed milk dripping off the edge of your spoon whenever you attempt to make a Spanish latte. You’re pretty sure you’ve been going through the same layers in the current area you’re mapping, not really adding anything substantial. Your to-do list is still half-checked, but it feels like it’s multiplying out of spite. The only real highlight during your days is the occasional ping from your phone, indicating that Paige has sent you yet another reel or is complaining about their coach.

This Saturday, thankfully, her name lights up your screen before noon.

Paige: 10 am and nothing to do. this is so weird. whats up w u

You snort, half-proud that you’re doing something more slightly productive than Paige, even if it’s just watering your plants. You type something back about being bored as well, at the same time thankful that you’re currently off work, not buried alive in your work. She replies with two pictures: one, a selfie with a stoic face and thumbs up; two, another selfie next to her toaster with googly eyes taped on it. 

Paige: this is my emotional support appliance now

You nearly choke on the juice you’re sipping on. You sit down, suddenly more immersed in this conversation. It’s ridiculous how fast she can make you smile. You don’t even remember when texting Paige became part of the day you look forward to the most– it just happened. 

Maybe because there’s no pressure with her? Like you’re really actually friends who get each other, or you’re ex-dates whose relationship steered in the best direction. There’s no pressure in the way that you’re not being sized up, or you’re not caught in that strange limbo where every word could be a test. With her, it’s just so much easier. True, your heart skips a beat a lot lately, but you attribute it to the fact that you’re genuinely surprised it could be this easy with someone.

You stare at the blinking cursor in the text box and type something spontaneous: “wanna do something today?”

It takes her less than ten seconds to respond.

Paige: you inviting me out now? Y/n: why not? we’re both bored. universe is telling us to hang

There’s a pause, a longer one this time. You stare at the screen, starting to overthink whether you’ve overstepped. Maybe she’s busy or not interested. But then, her reply comes through.

Paige: you’ll be seen with me. that okay w u?

There’s that skip in your heartbeat again. You know what she means by that. Not just seen like friends at a museum or dinner. Seen like, seen as a girl out with a girl who everyone suspects is… ya know… gay. You could be on Tiktok at the end of this day, with people speculating about your relationship. You try to ignore the way the question sits heavy in your chest.

Y/n: it’s not like we’re dating and im not gay. dont worry too much abt me

It’s deflection, and you both know it. Thankfully, she doesn’t press.

Paige: ok see u soon!

You find yourself smiling like an idiot.

You meet her in front of a museum just after lunch. It’s one of those massive places you can find when you search, “Where to go to in Dallas.” It’s surprisingly a place you’ve always liked: quiet, marble floors, huge banners announcing exhibits you can’t pronounce. 

Paige is already waiting for you when you get there, standing with her hands in her pockets, looking half-out-of-place, half like she owns the sidewalk with that stylish getup. Her hair’s tied up today, and she’s dressed in dark jeans and a plain shirt that’s boring on you but isn’t on her. She catches your eyes, gives you a grin and waves.

“Hey,” she says, and you feel your shoulders relax at the sound of her voice. With that, she leads you inside and you both buy tickets for a day tour.

Inside, the museum’s hushed and cold, with soft lighting and high ceilings that make everything feel sacred. You wander through the first exhibit, just the two of you, surrounded by ancient artifacts and people who take art way too seriously. You start pointing at random pieces, narrating fake histories or misreading plaques– sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. Paige laughs nevertheless, not just politely, but genuinely, with the sound echoing softly off the walls.

She doesn’t interrupt when you really talk about something that catches the interest in your brain, either. When a piece really intrigues and you start explaining what you think it means, how the shades may be symbolizing certain tones and emotions, she doesn’t try to one-up you or change the subject. She just listens fully, like you’re the most fascinating thing in the room.

It’s only when you glance over mid-ramble that you realize she’s watching you closely. Not the way people usually do, but… softer, focused. It’s like she sees you, not just hears the words. All of a sudden, your voice falters.

“What?” you ask, slightly breathless.

She blinks, caught. “Nothing. Just… keep talking. I’m here listening.”

You blink some more, trying to understand if that means anything, then you keep talking anyway, with a bigger smile on your face. You don’t let yourself think too hard about the warmth crawling up your neck, or the tiny smile she gives when you move on to something else that catches your eye. You try not to notice the way she shifts her body just slightly every time you move too close to a display, gently guiding you away from barriers without saying a word. It’s unconscious, probably, or maybe not. Maybe she’s just thoughtful like that. You don’t say anything, but it sure lingers.

The two of you stop in front of a fairly strange sculpture– the abstract ones you just can’t put a pin on. You tilt your head, trying to make sense of it, squinting like the angles themselves may reveal to you some great meaning for their placement.

Paige suddenly leans in, her mouth just inches from your ear. “I think this one’s a pretty sad croissant with legs.”

You let out a choked out laugh that's loud, way too loud for a place like this. You slap a hand over your mouth, but it’s too late– your shoulders are already shaking from laughing at her side comment. Paige is cracking up beside you, trying to keep quiet but failing just as badly as you. Somewhere from behind, a person shushes you both with the fury of a thousand librarians, and that only makes it worse. You have to hold onto her arm to steady yourself as she drags the two of you out of the hall.

At the lobby, still giggling, you glance over at her and catch the grin on her face. Then, it hits you again: that dizzying kind of joy that feels unearned and overwhelming. With Paige, it’s like you stumbled into something that wasn’t meant for you, but it fits anyway.

“God,” you seethe jokingly, “you’re such a bad influence.”

“I’m a great influence,” she tells you, smug-looking. “It’s you who can’t see a good croissant at first glance.”

“You’re the worst,” you say with a laugh.

Paige shrugs, smile unwavering. “Still got you to laugh though.”

You want to say something back, but she’s right. It did get you to laugh again. You’ve only ever had fun like this with Nai and Lyss, but there’s something new about this. You can’t put a word to it– or you’re scared to– so instead, you just follow her as she leads you outside the museum, down the street, not really telling you where you’re going.

Apparently, her plan was to go to this small restaurant tucked between two boutiques. There’s a string of fairy lights dancing in the breeze above its entrance. The windows are foggy with warmth, and you can already smell something savory from the sidewalk. You look at Paige, impressed she knows a place like this. She gets the message and winks at you in silent thanks.

Inside, it’s quiet and cozy. She picks a table near the back and doesn’t even have to ask before ordering you something she “thinks you’ll like.” You don’t argue because somehow, you have a feeling that she’ll be right about the food.

Dinner is just as easy. Your conversation drifts from art to food to dumb high school memories. At some point, you find yourself leaning closer because you just can’t get enough of listening to Paige. She tells you about a prank she and Lyss pulled on her teammates, and how it almost got them banned from a convenience store. You laugh out loud without a care because it seemed like the restaurant was made for hangouts exactly like this.

Somewhere in-between the laughed and shared fries, you look at her again. Her eyes are on her plate now, and she’s twirling the fork to get as much pasta noodles as she can. There’s something soft about her face when she’s not Paige Bueckers, basketball superstar– when she’s not performing for anyone. You didn’t think she had this kind of softness left to show, but she just keeps surprising you.

You smile before you can stop yourself. It just comes out, quiet and full, and maybe a little too honest. Paige, unfortunately for you, catches that.

“What?” she asks, a smile still dancing on her lips.

“Nothing,” you say a little bit too quickly. “I’m just… glad we hung out today.” 

Paige looks at you, astonished. Then, she relaxes, leaning back a little and eyes searching deeply into yours. “Me too,” she tells you. “This might’ve been the best day I’ve had in a long while.”

For once, you don’t overthink it. You just nod, your heart warm and full.

Sunday comes pretty fast after hanging out with Paige at the museum. You’re currently thinking about whether or not you should get a headstart on your project after procrastinating the past week, but when the familiar chime comes, you drop everything to read it.

It’s Paige, asking if you could go on a grocery run with her. She adds that she hates going alone (how has she done groceries all this time???) with that pleading, teary-eyed emoji. You roll your eyes, knowing that she means it playfully. A small smile is instantly on your face.

Y/n: definitely!! Paige: you sure u got nothing else to do? Paige: i recall u saying u have lots of incoming work  Y/n: the keyword is incoming Paige: youre so silly. meet u there then. will send u the pin

You toss your phone aside after confirming, a little too eager, though you don’t make a big deal out of that eagerness. There’s something about her texts and getting invited on impulsive grocery runs that make your chest feel lighter. You were planning to stay in and rot in productivity guilt, but that was before Paige offered you something better: a mundane errand wrapped in her presence.

You meet her near the entrance of the grocery store where she’s leaning against a cart, busy scrolling through her phone. She’s in some joggers and a hoodie that looks far too soft for its own good, sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Paige visibly brightens when she sees you, immediately pocketing her phone and gesturing for you to come to her. You hate how you respond like a moth to light, how your heart answers almost at once to her brightness.

“There she is,” she announces as if to everyone, grinning widely, “my grocery date.”

You arch your eyebrow but try to hide how much that affected you. “So I’m a date now?”

“You said yes. You consented. Too late to back out now.”

You fight the smile curling at your lips as you both head in. The fluorescent lights of the store greet you with the familiar sterile brightness, and for a moment, it’s just like any other errand. But then, Paige’s is suddenly walking beside you. The next second, it’s now like a scene in a movie. You know those domestic, fills-your-heart-in-a-good-way kinds?

Paige grabs an item off the shelf, and you immediately wrinkle your nose. “You’re not seriously picking that one, are you?”

She glances at the jar of nuts in her hand. “What’s wrong with it?” she asks innocently.

“That sogs easily.”

“‘Sogs easily???’” Paige repeats, offended. “Excuse you, missy, but this is a premium dried nuts mix.”

You scrunch your nose. “AKA overpriced trail mix advertising itself as premium and healthy.”

Paige squints at the box of cereal in your own hand. “I’m judging you for liking literal sugar rocks in a bowl,” she shoots back. “That’s hardly breakfast. It’s just candy!”

You drop it into her cart anyway with a defiant flair. “At least my cereal knows it’s dessert. Your food is lying to everyone, including itself.”

The bickering continues down the aisle normally, like some part of you recognizes the rhythm of this already. At one point, you even sneak a random item— something matcha that she obviously hates— into the cart. She sees it not too long after, glancing down at it.

“You’re kidding.”

“It’s essential,” you say with a snicker. “You have to experience culinary evolution.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t remove it. Instead, she grabs something equally ridiculous— a glittery purple toothbrush with a unicorn handle— and places it squarely in your shared cart.

You press your lips into a thin line. “Are you five?”

“Dental hygiene is for all ages,” she says smugly.

It becomes a thing for the rest of your errand. Every few aisles, something new ends up in the cart. You pick gourmet olives she gags at, then she retaliates with instant ramen so spicy even if she knows you have low tolerance for it. By the time you’re halfway through the store, the cart is half-necessity and half-chaos.

But somewhere in the midst of it all, the mood shifts subtly. You’re reaching for a bottle of olive oil while she gently rests her hand on the small of your back like what your dreams are made of. Her fingers graze yours as she moves to take it for you, and you feel it linger longer than it should— just a microsecond too long.

Your breath catches, and your eyes flick to her face, but she’s looking at the bottle like nothing happened. You let her carry it to the cart without saying anything, but your hand feels faintly electrified from the contact. It remembers it too well even after how fleeting it was.

You don’t talk about it.

The two of you move on to produce and argue over which apples are actually worth buying. You end up with two packs of different brands of apples. She tells you her teammates have been obsessed with avocado toasts, and you counter they’re just bland green butter. She clutches her heart like you’ve personally wounded her even if she doesn’t like anything green either.

Then, you run into one of the said teammates, and the air shifts again, this time more externally. The girl is tall, athletic, and her energy radiates curiosity the moment her gaze lands on you.

“Yo, Paige,” the teammate greets, and your friend turns with a grin, nudging you forward as she fistbumps her.

“Hey, this is y/n,” she says casually, but there’s something about the way she says your name that makes your breath hitch.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, trying not to overthink about how your stomach flips at being introduced just like that. Paige doesn’t elaborate, call you a friend, nor does she say you two were just hanging out. She leaves it open like that, undefined, and somehow that feels more intimate than any label could.

Her teammate smirks. “Cool. See you later then,” she says, gaze lingering a bit on you before finally walking off. When she’s out of earshot, you glance at Paige.

“Is she always that nosy?”

“She's actually on a gossip ban. Too many leaked crushes and stuff like that.”

You laugh, but the butterflies in your stomach refuse to settle. You can’t help it. You can only keep replaying the moment over in your head like it’s now your new favorite scene from a movie. You endlessly rewind to the softness in Paige’s tone when she introduced you, the ease with which she said your name, just like that.

After checking out everything and Paige insisting you don’t pay for the things you included in the receipt, you carry the bags into your car. It’s automatic, like you’ve done all this before. She opens the trunk, and you help load the bags in, hands brushing again once— briefly, unintentionally, yet unfailingly stays with you.

You’re about to make some joke about the matcha sauce being a parting gift once you drop her groceries off alongside her when she leans against your car lightly, watching you with thoughtful eyes and a small smile.

“I could get used to this,” she tells you softly.

It catches you off-guard. “What? Going on errands impulsively?”

She smiles even wider. “Yeah. All of it.”

You laugh because you don’t know what else to say or do. It’s easier to pretend you’re going along with some joke than to sit with the way your heart reacts. But later, when you’re home and putting your own groceries away and the toothbrush falls out of the bag, you replay her words in your head.

You try not to read into it, but of course, you fail.

Paige knows she should be focusing right now. They’re in the middle of a home game, with a quarter and a half left to catch up to their opponents’ score. She has to put her all into this game or else they’re going to get another useless sermon from the coach. He’s going to push them beyond their limits again even when they’re calling for a break because his pride can’t handle it. Most of all, they have to do it for themselves and for their fans who dedicate much time and effort to support them.

But she can’t.

Not when you haven’t texted back and answered her calls the whole day. 

You don’t usually ghost her like this. Sure, there are times when you’re too on a roll with your work or doomscrolling on Tiktok, but you always check in. You’d even texted her mid-meeting once just to tell her you saw something that reminded you of one of your moments together. 

Today? It’s radio silence.

Paige tries to play as she usually does, just hoping to get things over with so she could beeline to your apartment. She hustles hard, cuts through screens, plays defense as hard as she could, but her head isn’t fully in it. She misses two layups that she could normally make with her eyes closed. She doesn’t even yell when one of her teammates is given a wrong call. She has no thoughts either when they lose by five points. 

All that’s in her head as she sits in the locker room, as she scrambles to fix her things to leave, is what could have happened to you. Her chest feels so heavy with something she doesn’t quite know how to name.

The moment she’s out the venue though, she unlocks her phone and finally sees a notification she’s been waiting for.

Y/n: u busy?

Two words. That’s all.

But Paige exhales like she’s been holding her breath the entire game. 

She moves on instinct, speeding up. She doesn’t even bother with the usual post-game recovery routine. She doesn’t mind (and hopes you don’t either) that she hasn’t taken a shower out of sheer desire to just be by your side and make sure you’re okay. 

Paige makes a detour since leaving, and ensures that that won’t cost her any more time than. she intends to. She enters a 24/7 convenience store and goes straight to the section that displays your favorite snack. She grabs your favorite instant noodles— three kinds, just in case— and a pack of candies you admitted to her once that you craved whenever you’re overwhelmed. She throws in a bar of dark chocolate too while she’s at it.

The city feels oddly quiet as she rushes towards your place. There’s still sweat sticking to the back of her neck, and she smells faintly of gym socks, but she doesn’t care. She just hopes you would think that the effort and the thought matters more than how she smelled and felt right now.

You open the door before she can even knock. You must have looked at Life360 to see if she was coming to you. Paige thinks you should’ve had the idea that she would come no matter what.

When you come into view, she notes that you don’t look too awful— thank goodness— but you do look exhausted. It looks like the familiar kind of tired that’s not about rest, but is about everything else: life, expectations, pressure, whatever hit you today that’s too much to carry alone.

She holds up the bag filled with goodies in greeting.

“Didn’t want to waste time texting back,” Paige tells you, wiping a stray tear on your cheek with a finger. “Thought you needed real company.”

You let her in without saying anything, and the door clicks shut behind her. The silence that follows feels thicker than it should. 

She watches as you curl up on the couch like you’ve done it a hundred times with her already, and she joins you without needing an invitation. 

The second she sits beside you and gathers you in her arms, everything spills out. You tell her every waking thought that has cursed you to stay awake and wallow in regret and self-sabotage. You were holding everything in about your shitty day— everything about pressure piling up at word, the way something a coworker said that made you crash out, and about how you suddenly felt like nothing you were doing was making a difference. You talk about how you didn’t want to be dramatic, but you really couldn’t help but need someone at this moment— just this once, if it was too much to ask.

Paige doesn’t interrupt. She listens, quietly handing you tissues when you start crying halfway through your rant. You laugh and apologize, but she just shakes her head and urges you to continue.

Once your voice runs dry and you’ve cried everything out, Paige reaches over again and wipes the remaining tears with her sleeve. Then, she pulls you in gently, mumbling, “I’m here.” She feels you lean against her chest, forehead pressed to her shoulder. Paige holds you, afraid to let go because of how fragile and precious you are right now.

“You don’t always have to be okay with me, y/n,” she says softly into your hair, “just so you’re aware.”

“What are friends for, right?” she adds, chuckling nervously afterwards.

You pull away slightly to look at her and make eye contact. There’s a look on your face that she can’t fully comprehend. It looks like there’s a secret sitting on the tip of your tongue, heavy and half-formed.

Paige doesn’t ask now… because she thinks she has an idea what it is. And she knows you’re nowhere ready to admit it to anyone, not even to yourself. She knows better than anyone to not rush it, you, either.

Instead, she cuddles you in silence, matching your breath and watching the night sky through your balcony.

The instant noodles remain untouched on your kitchen counter, and neither of you reaches for it. Right now, you both have what you need in your arms.

If there’s one thing you’ll never pass up on, it’s your bestfriends inviting you over to one of their apartments for a casual hang out. That’s why when Lyss texts you, “Brunch,” you already know you’re going in comfy clothes, with extra snacks in case one of them attempts to cook something and fails.

You have a good smile as you approach their door– one that has stayed ever since you finished processing that Paige went straight to you when you barely texted anything about your breakdown. When Lyss opens the door, she’s wearing an apron that you remember you gifted when they celebrated– was that a monthsary or anniversary? You thought it was fitting, given that it says, “Chef by Force.”

“You’re two minutes late,” Lyss tells you with a pretend serious expression.

“Oh no. Did you remove my plate then?”

Nai appears from behind, a mug in her hand. “Stop messing with her. Girl probably hasn’t eaten anything for this brunch.”

“Nai always gets me,” you say appreciatively, letting yourself in. 

Their apartment is exactly as you remember it, with all the bright natural light, music playing from a speaker, and their shared energy that radiates much warmth and coziness. They really did their best making a home for themselves.

“Sit,” Nai says, gesturing toward the couch as she heads back into the kitchen. “We’re almost done here.”

You sink into the cushions, tucking your legs under yourself as Lyss drops beside you. “So… how’s life?”

You narrow your eyes at her playfully. “That’s so sus.”

She throws her arms up like she’s exasperated. “See, babe, this is what I get for trying to be nice! I get branded as sus.”

“Not when you sound like you’re about to pop open a presentation for a life crisis intervention. I’m doing fine, if you’re so curious.”

“She just wants to be nosy,” Nai adds haughtily.

It’s a comfortable atmosphere, all this banter and brunch dates with your friends. You playfully argue some more, trade work complaints that you may or may not have heard some from Paige, then compliment them on the food once everything was plated. You’re halfway through your second waffle when Lyss strikes again, this time, at a spot that’s more… sensitive to you.

“So… how’s P?”

You tilt your head to the side slightly. “P?”

“Paige,” she says with a knowing smirk. “Blonde, wears hoodies most of the time, makes you laugh through your nose in strictly professional museums.”

You scoff. “Oh my god, that’s not-”

“She called you ‘sunshine’ in that text you screenshotted us,” Nai interjects, and that got you to shut up for a second.

You feel your cheeks warm, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of how your voice sounds to them “It’s not like that… We’re friends, ‘s all.”

Both women raise their eyebrows nearly at the same time when they hear that. Lyss leans forward, resting her elbow on the table and her chin on her palm. “Sure. But do you still feel like it’s just friends? Do friends do the things you guys do?”

That makes you hesitate.

Nai tilts her head and immediately follows up, “No judgment, y/n. We’re just genuinely asking. Because the way you talk about her… you, like, really light up. You’re glowing. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you like that. That’s all for us too.”

You look down at your plate, suddenly unsure of what to do with your fork. You know what they’re leading on with this, but you aren’t sure you’re quite ready to acknowledge it. Until now, at least.

“I just…” you start, then sigh, shoulders slumping. “We started from a weird blind date that turned into this amazing friendship that I have no words for. I don’t really wanna overthink it or ruin anything.” You let a tear fall, and when you feel it, you hurriedly wipe it off. They notice at once though.

Lyss’s voice is gentle when she asks, “But you’re overthinking it anyway, huh?”

You let out a small laugh, but there’s hardly any humor behind it. “Yeah. She’s funny, and warm, and listens… She makes me feel good things, makes me feel like I can just be myself.”

Nai smiles softly, nudging your foot with hers under the table. “That sounds like someone worth paying attention to, n/n.”

You nod, the truth of it finally unraveling inside your chest.

“But then,” you frown a little, “what if I’m misreading everything? What if I say something about it and ruin the one good relationship I’ve had in a while? Besides you guys, of course.”

“And you’re also worried because she’s a woman, right?” Lyss shoots, and you feel all the color drain from your face. She didn’t mean it accusingly– she’s just honestly plucking off a thought from the inside of your  messy head. And you sit with it for a while before nodding your head slowly.

There’s a stillness that follows, and thankfully, because it’s with them, it’s the kind that you don’t feel the need to fill right away.

“It’s not that I’ve never thought about it,” you start talking. “I just never thought it would happen. I’ve always dated guys, told myself that that’s what made sense for me. But with Paige…” You trail off, but you know it’s enough for them. 

They don’t push. Instead, Nai rests a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay not to have everything figured out,” she reminds you. “You don’t have to label anything right now.”

“Just don’t lie to yourself,” Lyss adds cautiously, like she’s afraid you might break upon hearing those words. “If there’s something there, it deserves to be real. And if she’s really your friend, you won’t lose her just by being honest. I’m sure as hell she’ll be with you through the journey too.”

Their words land soothingly, but they still settle deeply. You didn’t realize how much you needed to have this kind of talk with your most trusted friends until now. There’s a kind of permission in the way they speak, in the way they’re not trying to define your experience for you. You’re thankful that they’re actually giving you space to claim it yourself.

You finish the rest of your food in a more comforting silence, feeling tears pool in your eyes because of how grateful you are to have people like them in your life.

Later, when you hug them goodbye and step back into the soft afternoon air, you feel different. Definitely lighter. ‘If that’s not it, then it’s surely: more burdened but meaningfully,’ you think to yourself with a small smile.

You may be still confused and scared, but there’s also something more certain within you. Something has shifted, and it’s no longer content sitting in the background, being ignored like you usually treated it all these years. It’s pushing you to catch up and let it be known once you’re ready.

And when your phone buzzes with a new message from Paige, you realize you’re already looking forward to seeing her again. Not just as a friend. You don’t know, but you’ll find out soon enough. 

Paige is already sprawled out on your couch when you emerge from your room, just after putting some finishing touches on your makeup before heading out. She’s got one arm flung lazily over the backrest, phone in hand, leg bouncing to a rhythm enveloping the unit when she made use of your speaker. There’s a bag of chips open beside her she for sure didn’t ask permission to open. But then again, she never really has to. Not lately. Not anymore.

You pause in the hallway, watching her for a bit and taking in the view. There’s a soft yellow of the overhead lamp that catches her in profile, casting the faintest glow on her cheek. She looks comfortable, like this is a home to her.

You clear your throat and walk in, brushing past her on your way to grab some shoes. “I could’ve just met up with you guys there.”

“You weren’t replying for 6 minutes when I asked you about it,” she reasons, pocketing her phone, “so I just went ahead to make sure you know where you’re going.”

You scoff, but feel your chest tighten at that. It’s only  been six minutes of not replying and yet she makes decisions like that so easily. You wonder if it’s because of you.

She scoots over so there’s a space beside her, patting the cushion like it’s a command. You rolls your eyes but sit anyway. Too close, you realized a second late, but neither of you adjusts.

You two were supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago, but time has a strange way of pausing when you’re around her. It slows down nicely, like the universe is giving you extra seconds just for you to memorize the moment.

The music she’d left playing earlier hums softly in the background. It’s mellow, vocals smooth and serenading. Your legs are brushing against each other, but neither of you moves again.

Paige leans a little closer, refusing to break eye contact. “I like this.”

You don’t look away, no matter how intense her gaze is on you. “What? Sitting around doing nothing?”

“This,” she gestures vaguely between you  with a smile. “Us. The nothing, and the everything. Does that make sense?”

It makes all kinds of sense to you. It makes your stomach flutter in a way that’s starting to become far too familiar.

You consciously drop your gaze to your hands. Your fingers are twisting over one another like they need something to hold. 

The words slip out before you realize they’re leaving your mouth: “I feel like myself when I’m with you.”

You don’t look at her after that, too afraid of what you might see in her reaction. But then, you see her shift slightly in her place using your peripheral vision, and something lands softly on your cheek. Her hand tilts your head a bit so that you could now see her steady eyes and a smile on her lips. 

“That makes me really happy to hear,” she admits. “You’re the easiest person to be around. I didn’t really expect that.”

“I think I’d be kind of wrecked if I ever stopped feeling like this,” you mutter, shifting your gaze away from her. That was probably the most honest thing you’ve said in a long time.

Paige doesn’t say anything right away. She simply takes her hand to yours, and gives you a little squeeze.

“Then maybe let’s not let it stop.”

You swallow the lump forming at the back of your throat. It wasn’t from sadness, no, but from everything else that’s rising inside that you’ve been trying to ignore for weeks. Even if neither of you speaks again, you know there’s a lot that’s been established from what had just happened between the two of you.

The hangout with Nai and Lyss is casual, warm and chaotic that it always is with them. The four of you let your eyes order so that in the end, you had to request to takeout at least four bags. All of you laugh easily at the stories exchanged, especially when they fill you in on their team shenanigans. 

It’s heart-fluttering, hearing Paige laugh easily like this too. She’s leaned back on the booth seat, next to where you’re sitting, with one arm propped on her knee. The other is currently tossing finger foods into her mouth with questionable aim.

At some point, you catch her watching you with a smile. It’s not obvious– just a flicker she doesn’t mean to linger but stays a second too long anyway. She looks at you like you’re something she’s trying not to reach for too quickly, and you understand why.

Later, as everyone says goodbye, Nai pulls you into a long, tight hug. Her arms are strong and grounding as she murmurs into your ear, “It’s okay to let it happen.”

You pull back, eyebrows knitting in confusion before catching on right when the two girlfriends left you and Paige alone.

The ride back to your apartment in Paige’s car is quiet. The sky’s already a deep navy, with barely-seen clouds dragging slowly across a portioned moon. You’re looking out the window, uncertain of what to talk about with Paige for the very first time. 

When Paige walks you to your unit and you two reach your door, you pause, not encoding your passcode. You both just stand there, waiting.

The girl rocks on her heels. Her gaze drifts over your face, searching. 

“I’ve been trying not to mess this up,” she suddenly speaks, softly. “I don’t know what we’re doing, but I do know that it’s not just as friends anymore.”

You look at her and realize she’s not as guarded as she sometimes is. She’s open in that vulnerable, terrifying way, confronting you right now. She’s been waiting, likely just as afraid as you have been.

Your heart is racing so fast you can’t tell if it’s excitement or fear.

“I think I’ve been falling for you this whole time.” You say it like it’s the truth that’s slipping past the last wall you haven’t been aware you’ve been holding.

Silence passes for a minute, then another. Then, Paige steps forward, cupping your cheek with one hand, thumb brushing just beneath your eye like she’s always wanted to do that.

Paige kisses you.

It’s not dramatic, and there’s no music,  unlike earlier. It’s just the hush of the hallway, the soft press of her lips, and the way you instantly melted into her like it was always meant to happen. You kiss her like you’re finally able to breathe.

When she pulls back, she doesn’t say anything. She just rests her forehead against yours, breathing you in.

And it’s more enough than any other declaration.

images except the dividers belong to respective creators; found in pinterest. links: https://pin.it/4AkZ5EWif; https://pin.it/7M2phlzEX; https://pin.it/2w8zDdd3O.