adascore

August, 2023 - Sydney, Australia

''And Y/N Y/L puts England into the World Cup final for the first time in their history! Captain Fantastic!''

Even 4 days later, the echoes of their semifinal win against the Australian team continued to send shivers down her spine. The heartbreak of the previous World Cup defeats was still present within her, but the captain felt empowered and ready to face anyone that would be sent her way.

The looks on the girls' faces as she had put another ball into the back of the net were ingrained in her mind, the sheer happiness with which they ran to her is something she will not forget any time soon.

They would play the final against Spain, a final they must absolutely win- not only for the title, but for the dignity and integrity of the game.

Y/N had been supportive of the 15 Spanish players that had taken a stance against the treatment the team had received from their coach and federation. She didn't know any of them on a personal level, but the England player has always been one of the biggest advocates of the women's game, so she wanted everyone to know on which side she stood.

Some of the girls had reached out, thanking her for lifting them up and shedding more light on the situation. However, none of those girls would be playing against her in the final as they did not receive a call-up.

She found it difficult to decipher whether most of the Spanish players liked her or not. A lot of them were from the Barcelona team and well… she did not have the best history with them when she wore the Lyon shirt.

There wasn't any hostility, but the striker had stopped them from winning several more trophies, so she figured they would gladly maximize any chance to take one away from her as well.

Unlike last year's Champions League final, this one wasn't being dubbed as ''Putellas vs. Y/L'', instead Alexia's name had been replaced with Aitana's.

''What's it going to take to win against a very in-form Spain tomorrow?'' One of the reporters asked the England captain.

''Goals.'' Y/N answered, matter-of-fact, having the media room chuckling.

She had been relieved to not have to share the press conference with the Spanish team, having to act cordially with Vilda was not on her agenda.

It was the morning of the final when she first encountered the Spaniards, both squads being allowed to do their pitch inspections. Their opponents were already spread out on the pitch when the English side entered the stadium, decked in black suits while the Lionesses wore their light blue tracksuits. 

Keira and Lucy clung to their Barcelona teammates, delighted to see them. Alessia, Ella and Mary walked over to Ona, while the remaining Brits stayed in their own smaller groups.

Y/N was the last player to make her way onto the grass, clearly not in any hurry whatsoever. She entered with Arjan, in an engaged conversation with the Dutchman about something that had happened during training.

As if there was an AirTag on the England captain, Alexia's eyes immediately found her from where she was standing with Lucy, Jenni and Laia. She immediately noted the confidence and aura that was radiating off of the younger woman, seemingly not bothered about the major final that would be happening that night.

Alexia observed how she gave the assistant coach a pat on the arm before inspecting the stadium on her own, walking on the sidelines without anyone by her side.

The Catalan's attention was solely on the Brit, long forgotten that she was in the middle of a conversation with her teammates.

Should I? No, I shouldn't bother her, she seems content on her own. I kinda want to talk to her, though. Alexia's thoughts were clouded with the dilemma on whether to approach Y/N or not, finding it a great opportunity to see where they currently stood with one another.

She knew there was a chance it could lead to an awkward encounter again, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she at least needed to try. However, another part of her held back, afraid of rejection.

Taking a deep breath, she moved her feet towards the striker. ''Sorry, just one minute.'' Alexia excused herself from their small huddle, biting the bullet.

Lucy, before anyone else, noticed where she was headed. ''Ale, I wouldn't do that- oh, she can't hear me, anyway.'' The defender brushed her own warning off, realizing it had no use as the skipper was already too far.

''Why shouldn't she talk to her?'' Laia inquired, confused about Lucy's attempt to stop her friend.

''Y/N has this thing where she likes to be on her own while doing the pitch inspections, I don't know where it came from, but she doesn't like to be bothered.'' The Brit explained to them.

The trio, lacking any subtlety, stared as Alexia walked to the sidelines, the unaware England captain clearly her target. ''For an introvert she sure likes to put herself in uncomfortable situations.'' Jenni bluntly remarked, soliciting chuckles from Laia and Lucy.

''Nah, she'll be fine.'' The Spanish defender said, choosing to be optimistic about it.

On the other side of the pitch, Alexia was feeling anything but fine as she got closer to Y/N with each step she took. She'd faintly heard Lucy calling out for her, but she'd pressed on, determined to make this work.

''Hey,'' Alexia greeted Y/N, her voice coming out smaller than she would have wanted.

The striker turned to her, caught by surprise at her sudden appearance. ''Oh, hey.'' She replied, her tone cautious yet not unfriendly.

''How are you?'' The midfielder asked, internally cursing at herself for startling her.

Y/N nodded, a hint of a smile on her face. ''Good, how are you?''

''Me too, thanks,'' Alexia's voice was steadier now, feeling the tension slightly dissipate between them, ''I'm excited for tonight.''

The younger woman nodded in understanding, her expression softening. ''Same, will be tough.''

There was a moment of awkward silence, neither quite sure how to proceed further. Y/N expectantly looked at Alexia, wishing for the midfielder to either extend the conversation or go back to her original conversation on the other side of the field.

''Uh, that was a nice goal against Australia, by the way. Really good.'' Alexia quickly offered, breaking the silence.

Y/n chuckled at the mention of her goal, her eyes twinkling. ''Thank you,'' she said, ''it's great to see you back with Spain.'' The sincerity was evident in her voice, almost catching the Spanish skipper off guard.

''Thank you, it's nice to be here with the team.'' 

''How's your knee doing?'' Y/N briefly glanced down to her competitor's leg, curious about the status. 

Alexia hesitantly nodded. ''A lot better. Not a total 100%, but the recovery is going well.'' 

''That's great, I'm happy for you.'' 

The Spaniard smiled, a warm feeling embracing her. ''Thank you.'' 

A silence fell over them again, though it might have been the least awkward one so far out of all the interactions they've had. 

''Uh, I have to get back to my, uh, thing,'' Y/N held up her earphones that were connected to her phone, ''but, uh, good luck tonight.'' 

''Yeah, sorry, uh, you too.'' Alexia stumbled, nervously taking a step back and giving the Brit an uneasy smile. 

Y/N gave her a quick nod before turning away, slipping her earphones back in and walking on the sidelines of the pitch. She was the only person on the pitch who was actually taking the inspection in ''pitch inspection'' seriously as she observed the grass while strolling around the stadium. 

Alexia stood there for a moment, watching her go, a mixture of emotions swirling inside her. She felt a strange sense of satisfaction mixed with a twinge of something she couldn't quite place. Shaking her head, she turned and headed back to her teammates.

Lucy raised an eyebrow as her club captain rejoined the group. ''You seemed to get more out of her than I usually do.'' 

Alexia shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. ''Just catching up.'' 

''Catching up… nice.'' Jenni recited her words, a skeptical look in her eyes. 

''Yes, very nice,'' the Barcelona captain dropped her smile, ''anyway- where were we?'' 

So the winner takes it all, the loser has to fall

It's simple and it's plain, why should I complain? 

The stadium was alive with cheers and celebrations, but for Y/N, the echoes of disappointment drowned out the jubilant sounds. She stood on the pitch, staring blankly at the sea of happy faces, her mind replaying the moments that led to England's defeat against the Spanish.

In the midst of the celebrations for the opposing team, Y/N's gaze lingered on the blue jerseys scattered around the pitch, a lot of them on the ground now.

Her feet were nailed to the ground, unable to move herself towards her team and help them up like the leader she is.

However, she could do nothing but stare at their agony.

She failed.

She had fucking failed.

There had been many opportunities for her to equalize the score, yet she hadn't been clinical enough. Shots that usually would find the back of the net, went wide or were blocked by a defender or by Coll. 

A few minutes passed as she finally managed to force herself towards the other players, almost walking in shame to her teammates.

Ella and Alessia were the first two she encountered, both girls with tears in their eyes, a drastic contrast to their usual demeanor.

''Come here, my girls.'' Y/N motioned for them to walk into her arms, which they immediately did, seeking comfort in their captain.

Their heads rested on either sides of her shoulders, both sniffling in her neck as she felt their tears staining her kit. She caressed their backs, while observing how their other teammates were being consoled.

Y/N was the one to pull away first, silently signaling she would go up to the remaining members of their squad.

She passed Lucy, who was embraced by Mariona. The striker briefly ruffled the defender's head, while muttering a congratulations to the Barcelona player.

A bit further down the pitch, she saw Mary being helped up by a bunch of teammates, the Manchester United goalkeeper in complete despair.

But before she could take another step, a hand wrapped around her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

''Hey, Y/N.''

Sarina appeared in front of her, her expression somber yet supportive.

She gave the coach a sad smile as the Dutchwoman wrapped her arms around her player. ''You did very well.''

''I'm sorry.'' Y/N whispered back, the disappointment audible.

''Don't apologize, I'm very proud of you,'' the older woman reassured, giving her a gentle squeeze.

The coach pulled her back, her hands resting on her shoulders. ''You can let go, you know? The match is done, don't keep everything inside.'' Sarina softly mumbled, lightly concerned over the captain's stoic face and the visible tremor in her hands.

Y/N simply nodded, not saying anything further. Despite the encouragement, she remained outwardly composed. Though, Sarina could see the raw emotion simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

With a final squeeze of her shoulder, Sarina offered one last glimmer of solace before reluctantly stepping back, leaving the captain to herself.

Y/N's original destination had been Mary, though by the time her conversation with her coach had finished, the goalkeeper was nowhere in sight.

''Good match, you still give me trouble after all these years.'' Irene interjected her thoughts, her stuck-out hand appearing before her.

The Brit chuckled at her words, shaking her hand. ''Thanks, and congrats. You've had a good tournament.''

''Thank you, Y/L. You too.''

They shared a quick hug before going their own ways again, the respect from their Lyon-PSG days never having withered away.

As she traversed the pitch, she encountered various teammates, each bearing the weight of defeat in their own way. With a comforting touch on the shoulder, a shared look of understanding or a warm embrace, she conveyed her support without needing to utter a single word.

Among the Spanish players, there were nods of acknowledgment and brief exchanges of congratulations.

While she wasn't particularly close with any of them compared to her teammates, her facial expression and overall posture didn't invite further interaction. She managed to convey her respect and acknowledgment of their achievement without seeking deeper engagement.

She also made her way to the three officials in the center of the pitch, extending her hand towards them.

Meanwhile, the other captain on the pitch observed her from afar, her eyes tracing the familiar figure moving through the post-match formalities.

Alexia made note of the way Y/N's shoulders were tense, and how her movements were almost robotic.

As she further analyzed her, a strange and unfamiliar feeling settled inside her. It was a sensation she couldn't quite put into words, a mixture of empathy, sadness, and a strange sense of connection.

She had never experienced such intense empathy for an opponent, especially not in the aftermath of a major final victory. Typically, her focus would be on celebrating with her teammates and reveling in the joy of winning. But now, she found herself feeling more sorrow for Y/N's defeat than happiness for her own success.

Memories of the previous year's Champions League final flooded Alexia's mind, where she had been in her position, grappling with the crushing weight of failure as the leader of her team. She saw a reflection of herself in the English striker, recognizing the familiar struggle of trying to mask one's emotions in the aftermath of defeat.

Recalling the moment when Y/N had offered her comfort and admiration after that match, Alexia felt a sudden urge to reciprocate. The Brit's words had given her a lot of strength when she lost, and now, she wanted to do the same. With the image of Y/N's arm wrapped around her from the previous year firmly etched in her mind, Alexia took a deep breath and approached the England captain. Each step felt weighted with uncertainty, yet she was driven by an inexplicable urge to offer her support.

With the image of Y/N's arm wrapped around her from the previous year firmly etched in her mind, Alexia took a deep breath and approached the England captain. Each step felt weighted with uncertainty, yet she was driven by an inexplicable urge to offer her support.

Alexia's expression softened with sympathy and understanding as she made it to the center of the field. ''Y/N,'' she said gently, her arm instinctively reaching out to wrap around the Brit's shoulders, ''I know it's not the result you wanted, but you should be incredibly proud of yourself. You were one of the best this World Cup.''

Y/N managed a tight-lipped smile, though her eyes betrayed the lingering disappointment. ''Thanks,'' she replied, her tone tinged with bitterness, ''it's good to see you back on the field. Even if it's only for 10 minutes.''

The Spaniard chose to ignore the passive-aggressive comment, recognizing it as a product of frustration rather than genuine malice. ''Thank you,'' she replied calmly, ''it was a great battle today.''

The England captain gave a curt nod, subtly attempting to shrug off Alexia's comforting embrace. But the Catalan held tight, refusing to let her go.

''Seriously, Y/N, you were amazing these few weeks,'' Alexia persisted, her voice gentle yet firm, ''you led your team to this moment.'' She attempted again to console her rival, or former rival… friend? It wasn't clear. It had never been clear. 

''I appreciate it,'' Y/N responded, her tone softening slightly, ''you guys worked hard, considering the circumstances. Congrats, enjoy it.''

With a gentle yet deliberate movement, Y/N extricated herself from the embrace, offering a half-hearted smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She was acutely aware of the cameras capturing every moment of their interaction, and the potential backlash she might face for her indifference. But in that moment, consumed by the sting of defeat, she couldn't bring herself to care one bit.

Alexia watched her for a few seconds, feeling something that felt equivalent to a slap in the face. She perfectly understood Y/N's pain, and could imagine what the England captain was thinking in her head. But she'd only meant well by her words, and affection.

She didn't stare too long at her departing figure, knowing how miserable it might look to other people. The midfielder resumed her small tour of shaking hands with all the opponents, while also congratulating her own teammates.

It irritated her how effortlessly the striker's indifference had dampened her spirits. Alexia couldn't help but feel a twinge of bitterness, resentful of the power Y/N seemed to hold over the Spanish captain's emotions without even remotely trying.

Why is she allowing it to sour her mood?

''Y/N.'' She heard her name being called somewhere in the dressing room, turning around without knowing who to even look for.

Keira appeared in front of her, already showered and changed into something clean. ''Hey, don't feel obligated to do this, but I kinda need a favor from you…'' The Barcelona midfielder looked a bit flushed speaking to the captain.

Y/N slowly nodded, not sure where this was heading.

''Uh, Aitana- you know Aitana, right?'' She quickly asked, suddenly feeling insecure about the player's knowledge of her teammate.

The captain snorted, finding the question a bit ridiculous considering they just played a final against her. ''Yeah, I know her.''

Keira nodded, cringing at herself for even asking. ''Right, so you're kind of like, one of her idols, and she would really love for you two to swap kits.''

Y/N softly smiled at the sweet gesture, while also feeling immensely honored by the fact that Aitana considers her somewhat of a role model. ''Uh, yeah, that's fine. Do you know where she is?''

''She's standing outside the dressing room right now.'' Keira sheepishly grinned.

''Of course she is,'' the older player sighed with affection, ''uh, I'm gonna shower first, and then I'll go outside, okay? I want to wash this entire day away.'' She grimaced.

''Alright, I'll tell her,'' Keira said before briefly stopping the striker from walking to the shower area, ''thank you.'' She sincerely said, her eyes filled with gratitude.

''Ah, don't mention it.'' Y/N brushed it off, squeezing the midfielder's arm.

It took her about 20 minutes to actually make it outside the changing room. Had she wasted time on purpose to keep the person who had just robbed her of a World Cup title waiting for her? No one could tell.

''Hey, congrats again.'' Y/N greeted the Spaniard, who looked incredibly nervous.

Aitana smiled brightly, carefully holding her own shirt in her hands. ''Thank you. Congrats on your tournament, you played great the entire time.''

''Thanks. Here you go.'' The England captain handed her shirt over, the Barcelona player doing the same.

''Gracias,'' Aitana thanked her, looking like a kid at Christmas, ''you've been my idol for a long time, and it's amazing to play these kinds of matches against you. You're an amazing player.'' She continued her complimenting, not able to stop herself from praising her.

Y/N awkwardly accepted her words, she'd never been the best at accepting such loving compliments, especially when they came from fellow players. ''That means a lot, thank you. But you're like the best player in the world right now, I'm much more honored, believe me,'' Y/N chuckled, making Aitana blush, ''also congrats on the Champions League, you were seriously one of the best players the entire tournament, and also in the Spanish League. I've been a big fan of you since Budapest.''

Aitana looked overwhelmed to say the least. The Champions League final in Budapest had taken place in 2019, meaning the Lyon striker had been a fan of hers for over 4 years.

''No, thank you so much, but you're the best, always.'' The Spaniard brushed it off, genuinely not believing there was a better player than Y/N in women's football.

The Brit grinned at the reply. ''Well, I can't wait to see you lift the Ballon d'Or this year.'' She winked.

''I- I don't know about that.'' Aitana stammered, her cheeks warm with embarrassment.

Y/N laughed softly, a warmth in her face that made the midfielder flustered. ''Trust me, you should pick out an outfit already,'' she teased, ''but, seriously, keep doing what you're doing right now, players like you are really rare, and all of us are so blessed to watch you play right now.'' She encouraged, her tone genuine.

''Thank you, that is very kind.'' Aitana responded, her voice barely above a whisper. She was still in disbelief that this conversation was actually taking place.

''You're very welcome.''

''Did you get it?'' Ona asked Aitana as soon as the midfielder entered the dressing room.

The Catalan held up the shirt to her friend, proudly showing off the emblazoned ''Y/L'' on the back of it. ''I had to wait 20 minutes.'' She sighed, sitting down in her cubby.

''She probably made you wait on purpose.'' Mariona remarked, taking a sip of her water.

''No, she was very kind.'' Aitana brushed the comment off with a shake of her head. The Barcelona star neatly folded the jersey on her lap, delicately brushing away the remaining stains of grass and dirt.

''Ale, you're not listening to me.'' Jenni nudged the captain, an offended look on her face as her friend didn't seem to be paying much attention to her rambling.

''Huh, what?'' Alexia stuttered, caught off guard, looking to her side.

A playful eye roll accompanied a light slap on the arm. ''Am I boring you?''

''No, no, please continue,'' the captain insisted, realizing she had drifted off again. She forced herself to listen attentively, though her mind kept drifting back to the jersey exchange between Aitana and Y/N.

''Okay, what is it? You're clearly not focused on me right now.'' The midfielder sighed, observing her friend's distracted gaze.

Shaking her head, Alexia tried to dismiss her thoughts. ''No, continue, I'm sorry- nothing on my mind.''

Jenni's eyes followed the captain's gaze to the blue England jersey on Aitana's lap. She looked back at her teammate, noticing her fixated expression. ''You're not telling me that even a damn shirt with her name on it bothers you.''

''What do you mean?'' Alexia asked, embarrassed as she was called out.

Jenni's eyes shot up in judgment. ''I get that the comparisons weren't nice while they were happening, but letting her bother you this much is crazy, Ale.''

''She doesn't bother me.'' Alexia retorted immediately.

A snicker followed. ''Yeah, and I'm Jesus.'' She responded, sarcastically.

''Just forget about it.'' Alexia started, but Jenni interjected.

''Hey, I'm sorry, okay? You don't want to talk about it?'' The Spaniard apologized, realizing her friend wasn't enjoying the teasing.

''No, I do. Just… not here, I don't need the whole room to know about it.'' Alexia whispered, eyes darting around. 

Jenni nodded, sending her friend's discomfort with the others. ''Alright, should we go to the bathroom?'' She suggested, trying to make it seem as subtle as possible.

The captain nodded, a grateful look in her eyes. ''Yeah,'' she smiled, ''thanks.'' She softly muttered as they made their way outside.

As they stepped into the quiet solitude of the bathroom, Alexia let out a sigh of relief, feeling grateful for Jenni's understanding. Leaning against the sink, she ran a hand through her hair, trying to collect her thoughts.

Jenni stood beside her, offering a reassuring smile. ''You okay?''

The Ballon d'Or winner hesitated for a moment before responding. ''Yeah, just… and this is gonna sound stupid, but the shirt does make me upset.''

The Tigres player slowly nodded, trying to understand her point. ''Okay… and do you know why?''

She remained silent for a few moments, almost too full of shame over the answer- the true answer to that question. ''I think- you know, we've never exchanged shirts… and she does it with so many other people on our team.''

Jenni reached out, gently squeezing her friend's shoulder. ''It's not just the shirt, is it?''

She knew her friend too well to think this was all about a stupid football jersey- there was more, and Jenni wanted to know what that entailed.

Alexia remained quiet, glancing down at the floor.

''Ale, I'm not dumb. I see what she does to you.''

''She doesn't do anything-''

''Shut up,'' Jenni shook her head, cutting her off, ''I want to listen to you, and help you, but you have to start being honest to yourself, Putellas.''

Alexia's facade crumbled under Jenni's persistent gaze, her defenses weakening with each passing moment. She let out a resigned sigh, knowing she couldn't hide from the truth any longer.

"She… she is so freaking annoying. You have no idea, Jenni. She makes my blood boil. Every single time we're on the pitch together, it's like she knows exactly how to get under my skin. It's the way she plays, the way she talks, the way she looks at me like she's already won. And I know it's all part of the game, but fuck, it's so fucking annoying,"

Jenni leaned against the wall, crossing her arms, and nodded for her to continue.

''But then, the match is over, and all I want is for her to come up to me and ask me for a freaking shirt swap. It's so ridiculous, I know. But it's always someone else that she goes to. First it was Patri, in Turin. Then, at the friendly last year, I thought she was going to ask me, but no, she asked me to give my jersey to a fucking teammate of hers. And now Aitana has one as well? It's so fucking stupid. She can exchange with Aitana, but not with me?'' 

Alexia's frustration was palpable as she continued to vent. "And the worst part is, I don't even know where we fucking stand with each other. Like, in Turin, she was so nice and she comforted me when the match was done, and she was, yeah, just so nice. But today, it was like she wanted nothing to do with me, and I get it, it's a big final to lose, but still! I can't stand it. I want to be mad at her, but she makes it impossible.'' 

Jenni watched her with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. "Ale, maybe she doesn't realize how much it bothers you." 

Alexia threw her hands up, a bitter laugh escaping. ''She knows exactly what she's doing. She does this on purpose, it's like she gets some kind of twisted pleasure out of it.'' 

Her friend raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. ''Or maybe she doesn't know either. You're giving her too much power, Ale.'' 

The captain shook her head. ''It doesn't feel like that.'' 

''What does it feel like?'' Jenni asked. 

''Like she's playing mind games with me.'' 

Jenni remained silent, having Alexia almost hanging her head in shame. ''It's fucking stupid.'' She cursed under her breath. 

The older woman placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. ''First off, it's not stupid, your feelings are valid,'' Jenni reassured her, ''and secondly… I have never seen you like this, and it kind of worries me, Ale.'' 

Alexia let out a heavy sigh. ''Sorry, you don't need to worry. I just- I don't know what to think anymore. I feel like an idiot for caring this much about a shirt.'' 

''You're not an idiot,'' Jenni denied with a smile, ''you want her to acknowledge you. It's not a crime, she's a great player, it's normal.'' 

Her younger teammate nodded, though not convinced. 

Jenni sighed, stepping closer to her friend. ''Why don't you take the first step? Ask her for a swap yourself.'' 

''Ask her myself?'' Alexia laughed mockingly. 

''What's the worst that can happen? She says no? At least you'd have your answer.'' She pointed out. 

''I don't think I can…'' Alexia muttered in response, looking down at the bathroom floor.

''Why not?'' Jenni pressed gently.

Alexia hesitated, her words coming out in a rush. ''Wha- what if she, you know, enjoys that I want her- her shirt,'' she quickly corrected herself, ''I honestly think she would enjoy rejecting me.''

''Ale,'' Jenni broke the silence in the room, ''do you… do you like her?''

Alexia's eyes shot to Jenni's before darting away again. ''What?'' She stammered, caught off guard by the question. 

''I know how you act when you like someone,'' Jenni raised an eyebrow.

She adamantly shook her head in response. ''No. What the hell.''

Jenni held up her hands, a faint smile playing on her lips.. ''Hey, I wouldn't judge you. She's good-looking, she plays amazing football, has a nice accent.'' 

''No, I don't like her.'' She insisted, though her conviction sounded shaky, even to her own ears.

The older midfielder snickered at the weak reply, her amusement evident. 

''Jenni, I don't like her. That's insane.'' Alexia continued protesting. 

''Ale, you're kinda obsessed with her.'' Her friend pointed out. 

'' I am not obsessed wi-''

''How many hours of footage have you dedicated to studying her before every match you play against her?'' Jenni interrupted her, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. 

Alexia rolled her eyes, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, but she stayed silent. 

''See. Absolutely obsessed. You probably know her stats better than she does.'' Her fellow midfielder continued, her teasing tone relentless. 

''I am not crazy. I'm just strategically analyzing the opponent.'' Alexia defended herself, though her words faltered slightly. 

Jenni raised an eyebrow. ''You know there are 10 other players on the pitch, right?''

Alexia huffed in exasperation. ''Oh, come on. There is nothing to like about her.'' She reacted defensively.

Jenni smirked at her words. ''Not her good looks, her intelligence, her advocacy, her football skills, her sexy accent, her knowing all those different languages, her-''

''Shut up.'' Alexia interjected Jenni's teasing, her cheeks completely burned up. 

Jenni chuckled, knowing she had hit a nerve. ''Okay, okay, I'll stop. You're obviously still in the denial stage.''

Alexia huffed loudly. ''You're delusional.'' 

''Yeah,'' the older woman sarcastically said, ''after we've had this whole conversation, I am the delusional one, Ale.'' Jenni rolled her eyes. 

The Barcelona captain crossed her arms, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks again. "You're making this much bigger than it actually is.'' 

"Because it is a big deal," Jenni immediately retorted, ''you're clearly affected by this, and this goes way beyond whatever rivalry you two have going on.'' 

Alexia sighed, realizing her mask was slipping and her friend had her completely figured out. 

Jenni silently stared at her friend for a few moments, wondering how long these thoughts had been brewing inside her mind. She pulled the younger woman into an embrace, gently caressing her back. 

''It's okay to have these feelings, Ale. It really is. But don't bottle them up the way you have been doing, don't ignore them. That's not healthy.'' 

Alexia let her head rest on Jenni's shoulder, the truth of her words sinking in. ''I just hate feeling like this,'' she admitted, ''I don't even know what I want from her.'' 

Jenni nodded sympathetically, continuing her caressing. ''I understand that,'' she kissed the side of her head, ''I don't know when you'll see her again, but maybe, like, ask her for a shirt swap yourself? I know you think it's stupid, but you'll get a better understanding of where you stand with her.'' 

Alexia shook her head. "I don't know if I can do that."

''You can,'' her teammate assured her, ''I really believe you've got it all wrong. I think she'd happily exchange kits with you.'' 

''Maybe… yeah, maybe you're right.'' She mumbled in response. 

Jenni pulled her back, not looking into her eyes. ''Just try, please. And if she doesn't want to? Guess what? There are thousands of other people who would gladly receive your shirt.'' 

Her friend's encouragement caused a smile to finally appear on Alexia's face, something Jenni was happy to see. ''Thanks, I really appreciate it.'' 

"Anytime," Jenni replied, giving her a supportive pat on the back, ''now let's get out of here, and fucking celebrate, alright?'' 

Alexia nodded, feeling much lighter than when they'd first walked into the bathroom. ''Yeah, let's go.'' 

''Let's go, chica!'' 

February 4, 2024 - Essex, England

It had become a routine, seeing her name and number on the bench. She took a glance at Kyra, a knowing look in her eyes.

The young Arsenal homegrown wondered where it all had gotten wrong. Well, she knew the answer, but it wasn't exactly something she could say out loud to anyone.

She was transported back to the 2022/23 season, where she would warm the bench until either Vivianne or Beth were too tired or they needed to be rested for the next match.

Their injuries had changed everything.

Y/N not only became a regular starter, but became a vital part of their game. Her absence would be noticed.

She scored the goals that got them to the semifinals of the Champions League, keeping them level with 2x champions Wolfsburg.

However, Beth and Vivianne were back now. Alessia's arrival also didn't help much, the former Manchester United player having cemented herself into the starting line-up.

It also didn't help that Jonas was not a fan of rotating. Only in specific Conti Cup matches or against what he deemed 'weaker' teams in the league would he make changes to the usual starting XI.

In other words, she was back to step 1.

That's why it was hard to watch her teammates falling 2-1 behind against West Ham, with no one seeming to find an answer or any will to turn the game around. It was a painful spectacle.

In the 63rd minute, Jonas decided to throw herself, Kyra and Cloé in the match, and take out Vivianne, Victoria and Beth. It was a desperate attempt, and the three Gunners found themselves on the pitch, tasked with the challenging mission of trying to fix everything that had gone wrong so far.

Y/N and Cloé quickly created some chances but the West Ham defense or the swift reflexes of Mackenzie Arnold saw them go in vain.

The teenager could see the expressions of her teammates on the bench, visibly frustrated with how the match had unfolded since Alessia's successful header.

Vivianne couldn't hide the discontent in her eyes as she sat with a subtle shake of her head. Her partner, sitting beside her, noticed and Beth patted her thigh, offering silent support as they continued to watch their team scramble for a late equalizer.

As the final whistle blew, the disappointment within the team was high. Y/N did her usual post-match routine, and congratulated all the West Ham players on their win, while giving and receiving solace from her own teammates.

The teen found Kyra again, someone who she had found a friendship in over the months the Australian had joined the Gunners.

''You alright?'' The midfielder asked her, a dejected tone in her voice.

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, you?''

''Not too great, but there are worse things in life.'' Kyra responded, trying to put the loss in perspective.

''True,'' the striker agreed, ''I can't believe he keeps putting us in these positions.''

Kyra nodded. ''You think he would learn after Tottenham.'' She sighed.

''Apparently, we're not good enough to start, but when he needs us to unfuck everything that happened, then he knows who we are.'' Y/N said, her frustration evident. The unfair treatment of some players during the season lingered in the air, leaving a bitter taste after the defeat.

As the youngsters continued their conversation on their way to the locker room, Vivianne and Beth, unintentionally overhearing their discussion, exchanged puzzled glances.

''Did you hear that? 'Unfuck everything'?'' Beth repeated her housemate's words to her partner.

Vivianne's brow furrowed as she processed what was said. ''Yeah,'' the Dutchwoman breathed out, ''not very nice.'' A hint of sadness lingered in her voice. It stung that their efforts were being discussed in such terms, especially by the young girl they were living with.

They didn't say much else to one another as they strolled through the corridor.

The atmosphere in the locker room was subdued, void of any banter and entertaining chats. Most of the players were already there as the couple walked in.

Beth took a glimpse at Y/N and Kyra who still seemed in a discussion with one another, although they were whispering now.

''Girls, we're a lot better than this.'' Kim broke the ice, a neutral expression on her face.

Everyone nodded at the captain, the collective disappointment from the match was visible. ''Well, it's done, we can't change anything about it. So, everyone just do a reset, try to get some sleep or distract yourselves on the bus, and I expect everyone with fresh minds and legs at training.''

The team nodded and weakly applauded Kim's small speech.

As the team began to disperse, Y/N caught Beth's eye, offering a faint smile in greeting. However, the winger's response was noticeably strained, her usually warm demeanor replaced by a subtle tension.

"Everything okay?" The younger one ventured, her concern evident.

Beth's smile faltered slightly, her gaze flickering away before returning to meet Y/N's. "Yeah, everything's fine." She replied, though her words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

The striker's brow furrowed further, a flicker of uncertainty clouding her features. "Are you sure?" She pressed gently, not used to this awkwardness from her teammate.

"I... yeah, I'm sure." She retorted, her voice tinged with irritation.

"Okay..." Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Sensing the dismissiveness between them, she offered a hesitant smile before turning back to where she had been talking with Lia.

As her housemate walked away, Beth's expression hardened, a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she shouldn't act like this towards her, but her words had really struck a nerve for some reason and it was hard to pretend it didn't.

The drive home on the bus wasn't that different, though the atmosphere was more subdued due to the loss. Y/N and Kyra were seated next to each other, Katie and Caitlin sitting on the other side of them.

''You alright, Y/N?'' Caitlin asked, noticing the youngster's quietness.

Y/N looked up, glancing away from her nails to the older Australian player. She hesitated answering, not knowing if it was appropriate to say anything about her interaction with Beth.

She sat up straight and motioned for the three of them to huddle together over the small table. They got her message and did just that.

''Did anything happen on the bench or something? Cause I had this weird exchange with Meado, and it's just stuck in my head.'' She explained, her voice hushed.

They all frowned at her words. ''No, she was just frustrated about the game, but so was everyone else.'' Caitlin responded.

''What happened?'' Katie chimed in, curious to know about this exchange.

''I don't know. She was looking at me in the locker room, and I smiled at her, but she, I don't know, just looked weird at me. I asked her if she was alright, but she was kinda distant with me? She responded a little irritated so I left her alone, but it was weird.'' Y/N gave a small summary of the interaction.

"That is strange." Kyra mused, breaking the silence that had settled over their huddle.

They nodded at her words, agreeing with the young Australian.

''I didn't notice anything.'' Caitlin said with a pout, feeling sorry she couldn't help her younger teammate out. ''Me neither, kiddo.'' Katie added, a similar expression on her face.

Y/N smiled sadly, disappointed she wasn't any wiser on Beth. Katie rubbed her arm once she noticed her dejected expression. ''Hey, I wouldn't worry about it. It's a tough loss.''

The youngster nodded at the Irishwoman's words. ''Yeah, you're right.''

Katie was not right.

As soon as she got in the car with the beloved couple it was clear that something had gone down for them to act in such a sour mood. Vivianne's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, while Beth stared out of the window, her expression unreadable.

Sensing the palpable tension, Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The youngster wanted to break the silence, but the words wouldn't come out. It felt like they were stuck in her throat.

The drive home felt like forever. Every minute made the atmosphere worse. Y/N tried to catch Vivianne or Beth's eye, hoping for some sign that things would get better, but there was nothing.

Car rides after losses were never filled with much conversation, but it had never been like this.

A wave of relief went through her as the car was parked in front of their apartment complex, longing for the comfort of her room where she could hide from whatever the situation was.

Y/N couldn't even come up with a guess on what had transpired. Did they have a fight? Did she do something? Did someone else do something?

She had absolutely no clue.

However, the tension seemed to follow them into their shared home. The silence had become even more deafening with each step they took.

Beth disappeared into her room without a word, while Vivianne headed straight for the kitchen, her movements stiff and mechanical. Y/N stood in the hallway, feeling like an outsider in her own home.

Their behaviors made her feel anxious, feeling that knot inside her stomach. What had happened during the game? What had caused them to retreat into themselves like this?

Unable to handle any of it longer, Y/N tentatively approached the Dutchwoman in the kitchen. "Um, Viv?" She began, her voice small.

Vivianne glanced up, her expression guarded. "Yeah?” She replied, accent heavy.

The younger girl hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I, uh, did, uh, something happen at the game?" She stammered, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to get everything out.

The striker's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?” She asked, her face neutral.

Her response only added to the youngest one's confusion. It seemed as though they were both dancing around a subject neither wanted to address.

"I-I just... noticed things were a bit off between everyone after the match," Y/N explained, her voice barely above a whisper, "and, well, the car ride home was... a bit weird, you know.”

Vivianne's expression softened slightly, though her guard remained up. ''Don't worry about it. Just… frustration from the game.''

But Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just frustration. She wanted to press further, but the fear of causing further conflict held her back.

Instead, she offered a hesitant nod. ''Okay, good.'' She murmured to the floor, retreating back to her room with a heavy heart.

The Arsenal homegrown player pulled her phone out of her pocket, searching up Kyra's contact. It only took a few rings for the Australian to pick up, she was probably already on her phone as she was called.

''Hey.'' Her accent momentarily bringing a smile to Y/N's face.

''Hey, you're home?''

''Yeah, just arrived. What's up?''

There was a brief pause before Y/N continued. ''Things have gotten a bit weirder since, uh, on the bus.''

''Shit. What happened?'' She asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.

''It's just... the tension at home is almost suffocating," she explained, ''it was completely silent the entire time we were driving home, and when we got home, Beth immediately went to her room. I tried to ask Viv about, but she told me it was just frustrations, but it clearly is not just that.''

There was a moment of silence as Kyra processed Y/N's words. "That doesn't sound good," she finally replied, ''you really have no idea what might have happened? Maybe they had a fight or something?''

Y/N shook her head, even though her teammate couldn't see it. "No, that's the thing. I'm completely lost." She admitted, frustration lacing her words.

''Same. I wish I knew what to say to help.'' Kyra said softly.

''It's alright, Ky. Thanks for letting me ramble.'' Y/N chuckled, appreciating the opportunity to unload her worries onto her friend.

''It's fine, honestly. It must not be fun to be in this situation,'' the Matilda replied, feeling for her friend, ''if anything else happens you can always let me know, okay? I'm gonna have some dinner now.''

Y/N smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ky. I really appreciate it.”

''Anytime. Take care, I'll see you at training.''

''You too. Bye, bye.'' They bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Y/N prepared to leave her room again, wanting to check if Vivianne had started dinner yet or not.

Just as she stepped into the hallway, she nearly collided with Beth, who was coming out of her room with a tight-lipped expression. The sudden encounter caught them both off guard.

''Shit, sorry.'' The younger one apologized first, giving her housemate an awkward glance.

''It's alright,'' Beth brushed off, ''uh, were you on the phone just now?" She asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

Y/N nodded. ''Uh, yeah, with Kyra.''

Beth's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "Oh, Kyra." She murmured, her voice tight.

The younger girl simply stared at the winger, not knowing what to say to her words. "Is everything okay?" Y/N ventured, her voice hesitant as she searched Beth's face for any sign of what might be bothering her.

Beth's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought. When she finally spoke, her words were tinged with a hint of irritation. ''Everything's alright.''

Y/N offered a small, uneasy smile and nodded. "Oh, okay." She said, though her words felt hollow even to her own ears.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Beth turned to walk away. As she watched Beth disappear around the corner, she wondered if it had been something she had done. However, she couldn't recall saying or doing anything that day that would have provoked this kind of demeanor from the couple.

The young striker walked into the living room, noticing Vivianne bustling about in the kitchen. But what caught Y/N's attention was the hushed whispers exchanged between the couple, Beth and Vivianne not being subtle about their gossiping.

A sense of discomfort washed over the youngster as she hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat unnoticed. But before she could make a decision, the Dutchwoman glanced up and caught her eye, her expression inscrutable.

''Hey, dinner is almost ready. Just some leftover pasta from yesterday.'' She informed Y/N, her tone somewhat forced as she attempted to maintain a facade of normalcy.

Y/N forced a smile. ''Nice, thanks, Viv.'' She answered, trying to ignore the awkwardness that hung in the air.

She retreated to the couch, feeling as if she wasn't welcome in the small space. Something was off, and she couldn't help but feel like she was on the outside looking in.

She scrolled on her phone for a few minutes before Vivianne called her to the table as the food was ready. As they gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere remained strained, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Vivianne served up the leftover pasta, her movements brisk as she avoided making eye contact with anyone. Beth sat across from Y/N, her expression unreadable as she picked at her food.

Y/N tried to focus on her food, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach made it difficult to swallow.

For a few moments, the only sound was the clinking of forks against plates, the silence punctuated only by the occasional awkward cough or clearing of throat.

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Y/N opened her mouth. "So, um, what did you guys think about the match?'' She asked the pair, her voice coming out more high than she had intended.

As if on cue, Vivianne and Beth glanced up from their plates at the same time.

''It was tough, but it shouldn't have been tough. We lacked a clear tactic.'' The experienced striker answered, filling up the silence.

Y/N nodded, relieved at least one of them responded to her attempt at conversation. She took a peek at Beth, who did not seem amused in the slightest to talk about the surprising defeat earlier that day.

''It was just another match of us fucking everything up, and you kids having to unfuck it all.'' Beth said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

The youngest's eyes widened slightly at the cutting remark, not expecting those words to come out of the Brit's mouth.

Vivianne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, casting a quick glance at Y/N before fixing her gaze on her partner. "Beth, that's enough.'' Her voice was stern, warning Beth that this was not the way to go about this.

But Beth ignored her girlfriend, her eyes fixed on Y/N with an intensity that made her squirm. ''No, she needs to learn to not talk about teammates that way, especially the ones that have just gotten back from serious injuries, and need time to reintegrate into the group.''

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, she cast a desperate look at Vivianne, silently pleading for her to intervene and diffuse the situation before it escalated any further.

''Beth, I wasn't-''

''You weren't what? You weren't talking shit to Kyra about us right after the match? You weren't talking shit about us to Kyra on the phone just now?'' The oldest continued in an accusing tone.

Vivianne let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she attempted to defuse the situation. ''Beth.'' She said firmly, her gaze shifting between the two other people at the table.

''I wasn't talking shit about you guys. I would never do that.'' Y/N managed to let out, offended at the mere idea of her not appreciating the two women who'd let her move in with them a 1,5 years ago.

''Y/N, we heard you. On the pitch after the match, with Kyra.'' Beth responded bluntly.

Y/N swallowed hard, slightly ashamed of being caught. ''We were just... we were just frustrated, okay? That comment wasn't directed at any of you guys, it was more at Jonas, to be fair.''

The couple grew silent at the admission, realizing they had greatly misunderstood the two young girls' conversation. ''About Jonas?'' Vivianne repeated, her voice carrying a note of embarrassment.

The young striker nodded. ''Yeah, me and Kyra have just been a bit upset with our game time, that's all. It felt like a repeat of the Tottenham game.''

Beth and Vivianne exchanged a glance, coming to a silent understanding. ''We're sorry for jumping the gun on that one, darling. We really thought we needed to teach you some manners.'' The Brit nervously apologized with a chuckle.

''It's alright, we probably should've been a bit more discreet.'' Y/N brushed her apology off with a hand gesture.

''No, you two are in your full right to complain.'' Vivianne retorted, agreeing on the playing time matter.

The teenager waited a few moments before elaborating. ''I don't mind sitting on the bench, it's great to get rest, you know? But it almost feels like he doesn't trust me to get the game starting or something. I like to think I did great last season, so this kind of sucks.'' She opened up, not having voiced these thoughts to anyone but Kyra.

''You did amazing last season, you stepped up when we needed someone and the team will never forget that.'' Beth smiled, squeezing the youngster' s hand.

''It seems that Jonas forgot.'' Y/N muttered bitterly, looking down at her empty plate.

The couple silenced themselves at her mumbled words, not knowing what the appropriate response would be to cheer her up about the situation. They were indirectly responsible for the young girl to not get as much game time anymore, so whatever they would tell her, she would most likely not feel much better afterwards.

''Just focus on what you're doing right now. Show up to training, recover well, maximize everything in the minutes you do get. Show him that he should trust you to start, and that you deserve to have that spot in the line-up.'' Vivianne chimed in, her voice soft but resolute.

Y/N nodded at the older woman's words, though her demeanor still seemed dejected. ''Yeah, I'll continue to do that.'' It came out somewhat passive aggressive.

''I know it doesn't fix the situation, but you're my personal star girl, regardless whether you play or not.'' Beth softly smiled at her.

The teen managed to crack a small smile back, appreciating the sentiment. ''Thanks, Beth.''

''You're mine too.'' Vivianne added.

''Hey, that's my compliment for her! Find another one if you want to be cute!'' Beth scolded her partner, dramatically feigning annoyance.

The Dutchwoman frowned. ''Everyone calls her ‘star girl'! You're not original either!'' She pouted back.

Y/N couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the banter between the couple, happily accepting the momentary distraction from her frustrations.

Beth playfully rolled her eyes. ''At least I'm complimenting her!''

''Sorry that I was just giving useful advice, Bethany.'' Vivianne retorted.

''Useful.'' The Brit repeated, her voice heavily tinged with sarcasm.

Vivianne's mouth gaped, pretending to be offended. ''It was useful! That's what I would have wanted to hear at 19 year-old.'' She defended herself.

''19 year-old's want to hear praise, Viv. They want to be called star girls, not receive a lecture.'' Beth quickly replied, with a smirk.

''Y/N, it was useful, right?'' The older striker turned towards the teenager.

''Yeah, Y/N, tell Miss Miedema how useful her advice was.'' Beth chorused her words, grinning from ear-to-ear.

The youngster simply glanced between the two of them, before picking up her empty plate and standing up from her seat. ''I'm taking this as my sign to leave.''

She ignored their pleas with a satisfied grin, making her way to the kitchen to dump her plate, and walking back to her room.

The couple watched her depart, sharing a knowing look, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. ''She's gonna call Kyra, isn't she?'' Vivianne chuckled.

''She so is.'' Beth agreed with a laugh.

''Obi, I just need to finish this. Give me a few more minutes.''

''No, I've been waiting for too long.''

This was how it had been for the past hour, Lena trying to coax her girlfriend into giving up her university work to watch a movie with her, but the midfielder hadn't had much success so far.

Y/N sighed loudly. ''I am almost done, I promise.''

''You have been saying that for an hour now, babe, I am bored.'' She retorted, her frustration evident as she tried to sneakily grab her girlfriend's laptop, only to have her hands swatted away.

''Off, Oberdorf! I swear…''

''I just want to watch a movie with my girlfriend, that can't be much to ask.'' Lena continued whining, clinging onto her partner like a koala.

Y/N would have normally chuckled at her antics, if it wasn't interrupting her task to review an important chapter that would be covered in her class the next day. ''And I just want to review this stupid chapter, that can't be much to ask.'' She mocked the German, imitating Lena's facial expression.

The Wolfsburg player begrudgingly removed herself from her girlfriend's body, settling on the other side of the couch with a loud huff. Though she hoped her dramatic display would garner sympathy from Y/N, she soon realized that her partner was too engrossed in her studies to pay her much attention.

As the student continued to read through the assigned academic text, she heard some faint audio coming from her girlfriend's phone. However, she decided to simply ignore it and get through the grueling reading she had to do.

But as Lena turned up the volume of her device, the sound became increasingly louder, disrupting Y/N's concentration. She would have been more tolerant if it weren't for the fact that the same part of the song was being repeated over and over again.

She cast a glance towards the footballer, not looking particularly happy as she had to pause her activity again. ''Obi, what are you doing?''

''Making a TikTok.'' She answered, mumbling as she was focused on her phone.

''Can you do that in another room, please?'' Y/N asked, trying to not let her frustration be too audible in her voice.

Lena shook her head. ''No, I really need to do it in here.''

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at the response, sending a pointed look in Lena's direction. Despite her irritation, she remained rooted to the couch, unwilling to give in to her disruption by relocating to another room.

About a minute later, she saw in her peripheral vision how Lena held up the phone in the air, seemingly filming the pair on the couch.

''Obi…'' She warned her partner, but Lena continued lip syncing to the audio, though she moved the camera back so she was only filming herself.

Y/N let out a breath of relief when the music stopped, her annoyance slowly withering away.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally closed her laptop, her reading session complete. With a stretch and a satisfied sigh, she pushed herself up from her spot on the couch and made her way over to Lena's side.

''I'm done, what movie do you wanna watch?'' She asked the midfielder, laying her head on Lena's shoulder.

Lena gave her a grumpy look, acting as if she didn't want anything to do with her at that moment. Y/N could see the cracks of a smile beginning to form at the corners of her lips, though her girlfriend was trying really hard to suppress it. ''Don't know…'' She muttered in an innocent tone, pretending she hadn't been whining for the past hour.

Y/N placed a gentle kiss on her neck, a smirk on her face. ''Too bad, maybe my other girlfriend would love to watch a film with me.'' She teased, continuing to peck her neck and collarbones.

Lena swallowed, her facade slowly falling apart. ''Hmm, maybe. Or do you keep her waiting as well?''

Her partner chuckled, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on Lena's arm. ''She doesn't mind being patient, it's what I love about her so mu-''

''Okay, that's enough! Let's watch that new romantic comedy I told you about.'' Lena interrupted, playfully pushing Y/N away from her, before wrapping her arms around her and attacking her face with kisses.

Y/N grinned, amused by Lena's subtle jealousy over a nonexistent person. ''Nice.''

Lena's hand found its way onto her girlfriend's thigh, while Y/N nestled into her side, resting her head on the German's shoulder once again. ''Comfy?'' Lena asked, glancing down with a soft smile.

Y/N nodded. ''Always.'' She responded, briefly lifting Lena's hand up from her thigh and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.

While Lena searched for the film on their tv, Y/N remembered the video she had been filming while she still had been busy with reading. ''What were you filming earlier, by the way?''

''Oh,'' Lena laughed, recalling the TikTok she had made. She retrieved her phone out of her pocket, opening said social media app. ''This.''

The footballer put the screen in front of her, the text on the video reading: Me when my girlfriend has to do uni work instead of watching a movie with me.

''Obi, that's such an unflattering angle!'' Y/N exclaimed, watching herself in the short video.

''What are you talking about, you look cute!'' Lena protested, zooming in on her form, clearly not seeing anything wrong with it.

Her girlfriend rolled her eyes, but let it go. ''You're gonna post that?'' She curiously inquired.

Lena shrugged her shoulders. ''Only if you're fine with it. People always ask me to make more TikToks with you.'' She answered.

''It's okay- you gotta give the people what they want.'' Y/N winked, leaning forward to place a kiss on Lena's cheek.

''True,'' the midfielder blushed, ''and I want to watch a movie with you now.'' She diverted from the topic, putting the phone back where it came from.

''What Obi wants, Obi gets.'' Y/N teasingly added.

Lena gave her a side glance. ''After an hour…''

''Oh, don't ruin the vibes!''

•••••••

February, 2024

They'd know beforehand that this situation could happen, yet when both their teams lost in the semifinals, it was hard to grasp the reality that one needed to beat the other in order to go to the Olympics in Paris.

Herself and Lena had played plenty of times against each other, with both their respective clubs and national teams.

However, this felt different.

Their previous international meetings had merely been friendlies in preparations for other competitive events like the World Cup a year prior.

This was for a spot at the Olympics.

Y/N had been at the previous edition in Tokyo with the Dutch team, where they had stranded in the quarterfinals against the United States on penalties.

Lena had never played at the Olympic Games, something she greatly wanted to achieve with her German teammates.

Both teams also wanted to redeem themselves after disappointing World Cup exits.

There were many things at stake.

Of course, headlines and articles had been made about how the couple was going to go head-to-head in a very important match for both sides.

Prior to their arrivals at the stadium, they hadn't seen each other for a few weeks. Lena played for Wolfsburg, while Y/N was a striker for Bayern Munich.

Although, Lena's upcoming transfer to Bayern would assure they would only have to miss each other during international breaks.

The young footballers had gotten together about a year prior, all credit to Lynn, Dom and Jill who had played matchmakers.

The distance was difficult at first, but they eventually found a nice balance. It sounded cliche, but communication really is the key to a good relationship.

Y/N was strolling around the pitch with her teammates when the German team appeared in the tunnel.

She didn't notice her girlfriend at first, too occupied in a conversation with Andries and Sherida.

It was Lynn, who so ''sweetly'' screamed for her best friend to ''get her ass over here'' that got her to excuse herself from the discussion with her captain and coach.

''Echte uitslover jij, waar was je nou weer over aan het lullen met hen?'' (''You're a real teacher's pet, what were you bullshitting about this time with them?'') Lynn teased her as she approached her, Lena, Jule and Lea.

Y/N sarcastically smiled at her fellow Dutchwoman. ''Jouw dikke kop!'' (''Your big head!'') She retorted, with Lynn playfully giving her a shove afterwards.

Her eyes lit up once she spotted Lena. Despite the tension of the upcoming match, seeing her face brought a sense of comfort amidst the nerves.

''Hey, everyone.'' Y/N moved to embrace Lea and Jule first, their proximity making them the easiest targets for her initial greetings. She let out an awkward chuckle as she made eye contact with her girlfriend again, but went in for the hug as well.

''Missed you.'' Lena whispered softly, her arms wrapping around her partner's waist in a comforting hold.

''Missed you too.'' Y/N replied, her voice equally gentle.

Their embrace was brief, acutely aware of the prying eyes of the photographers stationed around the field. It wasn't that they were afraid of showing public displays of affection, it was more the discomfort that came with the knowledge that every moment captured on camera would be scrutinized and analyzed by the media and fans alike.

They were far from being a secret- their relationship was an open secret among their teammates and the wider football community. Yet, the constant surveillance felt suffocating at times. So, when they could help it, they kept the PDA to a minimum, opting for subtle gestures and fleeting touches that spoke volumes in their own right.

''My mum and dad are coming tonight.'' Y/N said to Lena, the pair quickly disassociated to their own small bubble.

The German grinned. ''Yeah? That's nice, haven't seen them in a while.'' She replied, her tone warm and genuine.

Y/N nodded, a sense of anticipation building within her at the thought of her parents' arrival. She had a good relationship with her family, they'd been supportive of her love of football from the moment she started and went to almost every game if they could.

''My mum did make a small sign for you, cause she thought you might get upset with her.'' She playfully rolled her eyes at the recalling of her mother sending her a picture of the small poster that said 'Go Lena!'.

Lena chuckled at the mention of her girlfriend's mother's thoughtful gesture, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ''That's very sweet, I can't wait to see it in person.''

''She's probably gonna want to take a picture of you with it, so you're warned beforehand.'' Y/N laughed, knowing her mother wanted photos of everything and everyone.

''I'll be sure to smile extra wide for the camera then, like this.'' Lena pretended to grin very big, showing off her teeth.

Y/N burst into laughter at her exaggerated pose, her eyes crinkling with amusement. ''Perfect, Obi! Exactly what she wants for a heartwarming photo.'' She teased, mimicking Lena's antics.

''Hey, you two,'' Lynn interrupted their moment, the entire group staring at the couple, ''the loser sleeps on the couch or what?'' The Dutch defender laughed.

Her national teammate mockingly rolled her eyes. ''Lynno, we don't even live in the same place. Idioot dat je bent.'' (''Idiot you are.'') Y/N responded.

Lynn chuckled in response, waving off her friend's playful insult with a dismissive gesture. ''Details, details,'' she replied, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, ''just make sure you've got that couch ready, wherever it may be.''

''I'm sure she has chosen a nice place.'' Lena retorted, chiming in on the banter.

Y/N's mouth gaped dramatically, and her eyes widened, exaggerating her reaction to the playful exchange. ''Actually, since you like breaking ankles, you can just sleep on the floor.''

Lena raised an eyebrow in mock surprise at her girlfriend's response, which drew another round of laughter from the group. ''Oh, I see how it is,'' she teased, ''floor it is, then. I'll bring my sleeping bag.'' She accepted.

She threw her arm around Lena at the feigned sadness over having to bring a sleeping bag, her pout being too cute to not fawn over.

It was a nice moment to have with the group, temporarily forgetting an important match would have to be played a few hours later.

There was a mixed atmosphere in the tunnel as both teams started gathering in a line, familiarizing themselves with their small mascots, who were all looking up at the players with wide-eyed excitement.

The Netherlands' usual captain, Sherida Spitse, had been forced to withdraw from the starting lineup due to a last-minute injury sustained during the warm-up. In her absence, Y/N found herself unexpectedly thrust into the role of captain for the crucial match.

As she entered the tunnel, the weight of the captain's armband felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. While she had stepped into the role of captain before, it had always been in moments of crisis, when Sherida was substituted during a match and Y/N was hastily given the band by one of their teammates.

It was not only a great moment for her, it would be one for her family as well. Though they weren't particularly patriotic, knowing that their daughter had been chosen by the entire Dutch team to lead them out for such an important match filled them with a sense of pride and honor.

Her usual spot in the line would be at the back, next to Lena. It had become almost routine for them to have a small chat before their matches, even when they were with Bayern and Wolfsburg, they were always the last players to enter the stadium.

Y/N held the pennant in her hands tight as she approached her girlfriend, careful to not make a big deal out of it since they were already filming the players as they waited for the officials to walk out.

A small pat on her arm was enough to grab Lena's attention, the German turning her head before a small, but nervous, smile broke out on her face once she noticed who it was.

''Hey, Captain.'' She grinned, her eyes briefly glancing towards where the armband was comfortably wrapped around her partner's bicep.

Y/N smirked once she noticed, but didn't say anything about it. ''Hi,'' she softly said, ''good match, alright? And please, don't break my ankles.'' She teased.

''No promises.'' Lena chuckled, playfully raising her eyebrow.

They shared a final glance before the striker made her way to the front of the line-up, only to be stopped by Dominique. ''Ze gaat sowieso je enkel breken.'' (''No doubt she's going to break your ankle.'') The Dutch defender said, a mischievous look in her eyes.

''Ik weet het.'' (''I know.'') Y/N sighed.

''Dom was right.'' The captain muttered under her breath as she was yet again taking to the ground by one of the German defenders.

It hadn't even been close to half-time yet and the Bayern Munich player had been assaulted from all sides. Funny enough, none of the challenges had been made by Lena- so far at least.

Danielle helped her get up from the ground, quickly checking in. ''I'm fine, Daan.'' Y/N reassured the older player, wiping her knees clean.

The first half proved to be eventful, yet no goals had been made by either side. The goalkeepers were making amazing saves, but both teams had also missed serious chances at scoring the opening goal.

Despite being deployed in Sherida's position as a defensive midfielder, Y/N managed to make an impact in the attacking third. She found herself with two golden opportunities to break the deadlock, however, luck was not on her side as both strikes rattled off the woodwork, denying her the chance to put her team ahead.

The opening minute of the second half was marked by a somewhat surprising moment:

Lena fouled Y/N.

The referee blew the whistle, signaling the late challenge made by the midfielder. Y/N, with a dramatic flair, collapsed to the ground, clutching her leg in feigned agony.

Recognizing the playful nature of the moment, Lena quickly understood that she was only hamming it up for the sake of a breather for her teammates and to ruin the Germans' momentum. However, she still bent down beside her girlfriend.

''You shouldn't go into acting anytime soon.'' Lena chuckled, briefly letting her hand caress over the part that 'allegedly' hurt so bad.

The captain let out a small smile. ''That's mean, you should get a yellow card for descent.''

The midfielder's eyes sparked with amusement as she helped her back up to her feet. ''Maybe later.'' She quipped, playfully nudging her girlfriend's shoulder before they resumed their positions on the field.

It didn't take too long for the fun to be over as Klara put in the first goal of the night, which had been assisted by Lena. About 10 minutes later, another Bayern teammate put one in the back of the net as Lea also got herself on the scoresheet.

As the game wore on, Y/N became increasingly determined to make a difference on the field. However, despite her best efforts, none of her attempts seemed to find the back of the net. Her teammates were not clinical enough, or the shots were deflected by the German defenders.

The more attacks she created, the more aggressive the fouls of the German grew on her.

They seemed determined to shut down Y/N's advances by any means necessary, resorting to increasingly rough challenges to disrupt her rhythm.

She managed to keep the ball from Nüsken, and send a pass to Esmee when a German player made a reckless tackle from behind, catching her off guard. The force of the challenge sent her crashing to the ground, a sharp pain shooting through her ankle.

A wave of concern washed over the stadium and the Dutch team as they watched their most vital player of the evening being abruptly taken out by Giulia.

People close to her rushed to her side, including Giulia who didn't have the intention to actually hurt her Bayern teammate. The referee swiftly intervened, issuing a yellow card.

''Shit, I'm sorry- didn't time it well.'' The midfielder apologized immediately, knowing right away it wasn't a great or necessary challenge.

Y/N made a gesture with her hand, which translated to ''it's okay, just give me space now,'' which Giulia understood, the pair having a great relationship at Bayern.

Lynn was the first of her teammates to reach her, shouting profanities at Giulia and the referee for letting the fouls on her best friend get to the point where she needed the medical team.

''Alles goed, meid?'' (''Everything okay, girlie?'') The Wolfsburg defender asked, concern etched on her face.

''Ik denk dat me enkel er elk moment gaat afvallen.'' (''I think my ankle is going to fall off at any moment.'') She sarcastically replied, rolling her eyes.

Lynn chuckled at her friend's attempt at humor, though the worry still lingered in her eyes. ''Ik hoop van niet, we hebben die nog nodig.'' (''I hope it doesn't, we still need it.'').

Meanwhile, the medical team arrived, quickly assessing Y/N's ankle to determine the extent of the injury. The other players quickly backed off so the staff could work in peace.

Lena noticed her club teammate's concerned expression and approached her quietly. ''How's she doing?'' She asked softly, her eyes flickering toward Y/N, whose ankle was covered in bruises.

Lynn sighed, her hand smoothing down her hair. ''I think she's trying to make it out as if she isn't bothered by it, but it's obvious it hurts- look at it, completely blue.'' The Dutchwoman motioned towards where one of the physios was icing her foot.

The midfielder nodded. ''I hope it's nothing too serious.'' She observed the way her partner was hissing at the way the staff was assessing her ankle, visibly agitated by the pain. She wished she could do more to help, but all she could do for now was offer her support from the sidelines.

The Dutch team held their breath as Y/N gingerly tested her weight on her injured ankle, her expression a mix of determination and discomfort. Every eye on the sideline was fixed on her, silently praying that she would be able to continue.

''As soon as the match is done, you're coming with us to the medical room. I'm surprised you can walk still.'' Their physiotherapist ordered her, glancing down at her iced and taped up ankle.

Andries sent her a thumbs up, asking if she was okay to continue. However, Y/N knew they had used up all their substitutes so there would be no use in forfeiting the game, so she confirmed with a nod that she would carry on.

She could walk on her own to the side of the pitch, though there was a limp in her step. The striker carefully jogged onto the grass as the referee gave her permission to join the match again.

A few tense minutes later, the shrill sound of the referee's whistle pierced the air, signaling the end of the match.

Amidst the disappointment of the Dutch team, the German players erupted into jubilant celebrations. They hugged each other tightly, their faces beaming with joy and relief as they reveled in their hard-earned victory.

The Oranje Leeuwinnen on the pitch dejectedly gave each other hugs and consolations, most with tears in their eyes.

Y/N had lowered herself onto the ice-cold grass, the throbbing pain in her ankle too much to bear. She winced as she cautiously propped herself up against the turf.

She suddenly felt two pairs of arms slip beneath hers, lifting her gently off the ground. Startled, she looked up to see Esmee and Kerstin, their expressions filled with concern as they looked at their captain.

''Kom op, meid,'' (''Come on, girl,') Kerstin gently said, ''je was echt een beest op dat middenveld.'' (''You really were a beast in the midfield.'') The Manchester City player chuckled, trying to lighten up the somber mood.

Esmee nodded in agreement, her grip firm yet gentle as she supported Y/N's weight. The two youngsters guided her towards the waiting medical staff, who had been watching the scene unfold from the sidelines.

Some of their teammates and staff patted their heads and ruffled their hair as they walked across the pitch, offering words of sweet nothingness.

With a reassuring nod from the physiotherapist, Esmee and Kerstin carefully lowered her onto the stretcher, ensuring she was comfortable before the medical team began to carry her inside the stadium for further examination.

The injured player could hear the applause from the bystanders, but it wasn't much solace as the pain and disappointment hit her like a truck. Unable to hold back her emotions any longer, Y/N felt a sob escape her lips, the sound muffled by her hands as she covered her face.

The staff of the Dutch team carrying the stretcher watched with downcast eyes, feeling for the young player who had literally given her body and soul this match.

After what seemed like an eternity of navigating the labyrinthine corridors of the stadium, they finally reached the treatment room. With practiced efficiency, they set to work assessing Y/N's injury, carefully removing her shoe and sock to examine her blue ankle.

As the physiotherapists administered treatment, taping up her ankle and applying ice packs to reduce the swelling, the striker remained silent, lost in her thoughts and emotions.

Once her ankle was securely taped and she was given the green light to proceed, Y/N wasted no time in making her way back to the pitch. The pain was barely noticeable anymore as she walked with quickness in her strides, simply wanting to be with her team.

Surprisingly, the German and Dutch players were still exchanging handshakes with one another, acknowledging each other's efforts or catching up with teammates.

The Dutch captain delicately walked onto the pitch again going for the officials who stood in the center of the big field. On her way there, she shook hands or gave hugs with either her national teammates or club teammates, each of them praising her performance of the night- though the striker didn't feel deserving of it.

With a firm handshake and a nod of acknowledgment, she greeted the officials. One of them had asked about her injury, but the player assured her that she was alright. With a suppressed smile, she turned away from them.

''Y/N…'' She heard a voice next to her, immediately recognizing whose it was.

The Dutch striker tried to beam the best she could, a strained grin plastered on her face. ''Hey.''

Lena hesitantly motioned for a hug, not confident in how to handle the situation. Her girlfriend nodded, opening her arms, and welcoming each other in an embrace in the center of the pitch.

''I know it doesn't look like I am, but I am very happy for you and the girls.'' Y/N mumbled into Lena's neck, her voice thick with emotion as she fought to hold back her tears.

The German midfielder brushed her fingers gently through her hair, a soft sigh escaping her lips. ''Danke,'' (''Thank you,'') she whispered in response, her voice quiet but filled with gratitude. ''I know you're happy for us, you don't need to say it.''

Their embrace lingered for a moment longer, each reluctant to let go. But eventually, they pulled back, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange.

''How's your ankle?'' Lena asked, discreetly peeking at her girlfriend's taped up ankle.

The Dutchwoman shrugged her shoulders. ''It's just very bruised, that's it,'' she dismissed, ''you played really well- nice assist, by the way.'' Y/N changed the subject, not wanting to linger on the topic of her physical well-being.

Lena's cheeks flushed at the compliment. ''Thank you. I meant to score, though.''

The German glanced around the stadium, scanning the crowd. ''Where are your parents sitting?'' She asked.

Y/N pointed towards a section of the stands where her parents were seated, their faces alight with pride and excitement as they waved to them from the crowd. The couple happily waved back at them, Lena lightly chuckling at the poster that her girlfriend's father hastily pulled out of his wife's bag, motioning it around for Lena to see.

''They're so sweet.'' She remarked, her voice filled with affection as she glanced back at Y/N. But as Lena turned her gaze back to her girlfriend, she noticed a sudden shift in her demeanor.

As Y/N watched her family in the stands, a flood of emotions washed over her. She felt a lump form in her throat as she took in the sight of them, their smiles radiating nothing but support for their daughter and her national team. However, it was once she glanced down at the fans around them, downed in orange decorations and clothing, that her true feelings about the outcome of the match came to the surface. The sea of orange seemed to mock her, a painful reminder of the missed opportunities and shattered dreams that had taken place tonight.

The team had fought tooth and nail to simply make it out of the group stages, the late drama at the match against Belgium had filled the squad with newfound confidence and resilience. They'd come so close to their ticket to the Olympics, it was practically in their hands before it had been taken away from them and ripped in millions of pieces.

She couldn't help but feel a sense of profound loss. The weight of the defeat lied heavily on her, feeling somewhat the most responsible for the defeat, as if she had been the only player on her team. Deep down, Y/N knew this was far from the truth- football was a team effort, and their loss was a collective outcome. But the pressure she had felt was immense, spurred on by the absence of key players like Jill, Victoria, and Vivianne.

In the eyes of the Dutch media, Y/N had been hailed as the team's ''saving angel,'' a title that now felt like a heavy burden on her shoulders. She had been the one to step up in critical moments, delivering crucial assists and last-minute goals that had propelled the Netherlands to victory in the past. But tonight, she couldn't replicate that success- something she feared she would be crucified for by the fans and pundits.

Lena's heart ached at the sight of her girlfriend's distress, the lines of worry etched into her brow as she struggled to maintain her composure.

With a gentle touch, she reached out to Y/N, her fingers lightly brushing against her arm as she offered silent support. Lena understood right away what she was thinking as she watched her observe the crowd, it's what she had felt at the World Cup, it's what she had felt when Wolfsburg were knocked out of the Champions League.

Utter and complete disappointment.

''Hey,'' Lena murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she sought to break through the walls of self-doubt that surrounded Y/N, ''it's okay, you did well.'' She comforted as she pulled her into another embrace, her arms caressing the Dutchwoman's back.

Y/N buried her face against Lena's shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric of her jersey as she clung to her girlfriend's warmth. ''I wanted it so badly,'' she admitted, ''and I played so fucking bad, missed so many sitters.''

It was frustrating for Lena to hear, especially since her partner was easily one of the best players on the field tonight, and was the sole reason the Netherlands were still in the game the entire match. ''Do you know how hard you made it for us? You kept taking the ball from me.'' She tried to convince her, her voice resolute.

Y/N sniffled, her breath hitching as she struggled to hold back her tears. ''But I could have- I should have done so much better.'' She lamented, her voice muffled against Lena's shoulder.

Lena pulled back slightly, cupping Y/N's face in her hands so she could look into her eyes. ''You did everything you could,'' the midfielder reassured her, her gaze unwavering, ''you were playing out of your position the entire time, you were constantly creating chances for yourself and for your teammates, you were my player of the match- and I'm not just saying that,'' she interrupted herself before her girlfriend could, ''you're a phenomenal player, and I was so proud watching you tonight.''

Y/N's eyes widened with surprise and disbelief at Lena's words. She had been so consumed by her own self-criticism that she hadn't realized how much her partner valued and appreciated her efforts on the field.

She wrapped her arms around her, giving a swift peck on the cheek. ''Love you.''

''Love you too.'' Lena reciprocated, landing a kiss on her girlfriend's cheek as well.

The Dutchwoman glanced to her side, seeing the German team starting to form a huddle with one another. ''Obi,'' she caught Lena's attention, signaling towards her teammates, ''go and celebrate, we'll talk tomorrow, alright?''

As Lena hesitated, Y/N gave her an encouraging smile. ''Seriously, go join them, you're going to Olympics, have fun with them. I'm gonna be mad if you don't.''

''Okay, but we face time tomorrow?'' The young midfielder asked, needing the reassurance.

Y/N chuckled softly, touched by her partner's concern. ''We will. Now go, and party- oh my God.''

With a final nod of understanding, Lena gave her girlfriend's hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly turning to join the German team in their huddle.

As Y/N watched her disappear into the celebratory chaos, a bittersweet smile touched her lips. She could see her own team waiting for her, already standing in a circle.

She took the spot next to her best friend, as Lynn made space for her to join.

A slight grimace crossed her face as the entire team listened to Andries, prompting the defender next to her to furrow her eyebrows. ''Je enkel?'' (''Your ankle?'') She asked.

With a wry smile, Y/N shook her head. ''Nee, de rugpijn die ik ga hebben na het slapen op de grond.'' (''No, the back pain I'll be having after sleeping on the floor.'') She responded, a teasing smirk on her face.

•••••••

January, 2024

''Yeah, that does sound great. I'll, uh, think about it and call you tomorrow… Okay, thanks… Bye bye.'' Jessie hung up the phone, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She sighed as she glanced back into the living room, her girlfriend sitting on their couch, blissfully unaware of anything.

Y/N wasn't entirely oblivious to Jessie's agent researching new clubs. It had been an ongoing discussion for a while now, fueled by Jessie's frustration with her dwindling game time at Chelsea.

Jessie quietly sat back down on the couch, not wanting to disturb her partner's tv-show.

''Everything okay?'' The Canadian turned her head, finding Y/N's eyes on her.

She nodded, biting her lips. ''Yeah, good… just my agent.'' She replied, trying to mask the turmoil in her voice.

''Any news?'' Y/N asked.

Bless her heart, Jessie thought. Despite not being the biggest fan of no longer getting to be teammates, Y/N had been very supportive of her girlfriend's search, believing her talent was indeed being wasted at Chelsea.

''Uh, nothing new,'' the midfielder lied, ''she's still in talks with a few clubs.''

''Oh, okay.'' The forward smiled, redirecting her focus back to the series she was watching.

Jessie didn't want to lie, she really didn't. However, telling the love of your life that you received a great offer from an American club and that you're really considering it, isn't an easy thing to do. The Canadian tried telling herself she should only tell Y/N when it's official, but Jessie knew from the moment her agent informed her of the option, that this was the right direction for her to go.

Her game time would improve compared to Chelsea's, and Janine and Christine would become her club teammates- she'd be stupid not to accept. But Portland was far from London, and Portland was far away from Y/N, her true home.

She promised herself she would tell her when the time was right, when the offer from the Thorns was official and her future was certain.

''I think she might stay until the end of the season, and then see what her options are.'' Y/N responded to Erin, after the Scot asked about Jessie's future.

Erin nodded. ''Nice, we can give her a proper sendoff then.''

''I'd say a party, but I don't think she would want to be the center of attention.'' Millie chimed in, thinking about how they could celebrate the younger woman's time at Chelsea.

''She'd look more like a tomato than she already does.'' Erin laughed, imagining her fellow midfielder's reaction.

''But it's good that we'll have at least this last season with her. The last match is gonna be emotional, Emma leaving, Jessie leaving…'' Millie said once the laughter had died down.

Y/N nodded her head. ''Yeah, but I just want to see her happy, you know? She loves the team, but, you know, with the game time and everything.''

Both women nodded, understanding Jessie's reasons for wanting to play somewhere else.

''Do you know where she's maybe going?'' Millie asked, curiously.

The younger woman shrugged her shoulders. ''She has plenty of options,'' Y/N grinned proudly, ''I think she's staying in Europe, though- Champions League and all.''

''She's gonna become a rival.'' Erin teased, rubbing her hands together in feigned mischief.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the thought, but the underlying sadness of Jessie's departure lingered in the back of her mind.

''I also see her staying close by, at least near you.'' Millie lightly nudged her teammate's shoulder, sending a wink.

Y/N grinned back, but there was a hint of dejection in her eyes as she glanced at her friends "She's gotta do what's best for her," she said softly, her gaze drifting to the floor, "that's the most important thing.” She murmured.

As Y/N's thoughts lingered on Jessie's impending departure, she was abruptly pulled back to the present by the sound of someone's voice.

''Hey, you're ready to go?'' Jessie asked, her arrival at their table breaking the somber silence that had settled over them.

Amazing timing, Fleming, Y/N thought as her girlfriend approached their table.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jessie, her dejected mood momentarily forgotten as she met her girlfriend's gaze. "Yeah." She replied, her eyes lighting up and a smile gracing her lips.

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, their amusement evident as they observed the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor in the presence of her girlfriend.

Y/N got up from her chair. ''See you tomorrow, beautiful ladies.'' She bid her friends goodbye.

''Tomorrow, love birds.'' ''See ya!''

Jessie silently grabbed her partner's bag from the floor, and the pair walked together to the parking lot.

''They're so adorable it makes me sick.'' Erin muttered.

Millie laughed at her teammate. ''I think you might be allergic.''

As they drove out of the Chelsea training complex, a heavy silence enveloped the couple, weighing down the air in the car. Silences weren't necessarily unusual for them, but there was something about this one that had Y/N feeling confused and worried at the same time.

Glancing sideways at Jessie, Y/N noticed the furrow in her brow, the tension etched into the lines of her face. It was clear that something was bothering her, something she was struggling to articulate.

"Hey, Jess," the striker began hesitantly, breaking the uneasy silence that hung between them, "is everything okay?”

Jessie's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she wrestled with her thoughts. ''Yeah, just a bit tired.'' She responded, her voice strained.

Her answer did nothing to soothe her. There was a distance in the Canadian's eyes, a hesitancy in her voice that spoke volumes. "You can talk to me, you know." Y/N said, and she reached out to Jessie's hand.

For a moment, Jessie tensed up at the display of affection. Her breath was caught in her throat as she struggled with what to tell her partner. ''Can we talk about this when we're home? I don't want to have this conversation while I'm driving.'' She asked, momentarily making eye contact with her.

Y/N nodded, though the unease still gnawed at her. "Of course," she replied gently, withdrawing her hand but keeping her gaze fixed on Jessie, "we can talk about it when we get home."

The remainder of the drive passed in an uncomfortable conversation about their thoughts on the training that day.

As they finally pulled into their driveway, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of the impending conversation sending a wave of anxiety crashing over her. She followed Jessie inside, the heavy silence hanging between them like a dense fog.

Once inside, Y/N took a seat on the couch. Her eyes fixed on the midfielder like a hawk as Jessie paced through the room.

Taking a a few deep breaths to ease herself, Jessie finally broke the silence that had enveloped them. "I... I received an offer." She confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N perked up at the revelation. ''An offer?'' She repeated. ''That's great, no?'' Her voice tinged with uncertainty.

But as she watched her girlfriend unconsciously shake her head, she knew there was more to the story than Jessie was letting on.

The Canadian hesitated, her gaze shifting to the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "From the Portland Thorns," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible, "they want me to play for them.”

Y/N's heart sank at the news, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. ''Portland?'' She muttered. ''In the U.S.?''

Jessie silently nodded. ''Yeah, the NWSL.'' She confirmed.

Her heart sank even further at the confirmation, the reality of the situation settling in like a heavy weight on her chest. ''Wow… that's, uh, that's amazing- with Janine and Christine, that's really nice, babe.'' She tried to muster a smile, but it felt hollow on her lips.

Despite her attempt to be supportive, the weight of Jessie's decision bore down on Y/N like a heavy burden. The thought of being separated by thousands of miles was something out of a nightmare.

But as she looked at Jessie, her heart ached at the thought of holding her back from pursuing her dreams. She knew that she had to be strong, to support her partner no matter what path she chose.

''Thank you.'' Jessie was unsure of how to proceed, it was clear that her girlfriend wasn't expecting a transfer to the other side of the world. "I... I know this isn't easy," she continued, her voice wavering slightly. "But I have to do what's best for my career.”

Y/N reached out, gently squeezing Jessie's hand. "I know," she replied softly, ''and this is gonna be really good for you.''

''So… you're not upset?''

She shook her head, a forced smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ''Of course not. I know you're going to do amazing there, and I'm happy that they are seeing your talent. It's a great club, Jess. And if it means you'll be happier... then I'm all for it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Jessie's eyes as she pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. "I love you." She whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too," Y/N replied, returning the embrace, ''I think you forgot for a moment that I'm, like, your biggest fan.'' She chuckled, tears forming in her own eyes.

Jessie laughed now as well. "How could I forget?" She echoed, her eyes sparkling with affection as she looked at Y/N. "You're the best.”

As the evening wore on, the weight of Jessie's decision lingered in the air, casting a somber mood over the apartment. Despite the reassurances they had exchanged, the reality of the situation still hung heavy on their hearts.

A few days later, the time came for Jessie to face her teammates and share the news of her new club. The staff had gathered the team into the meeting room with the excuse they needed to go over some past matches.

''Before we get into some of the matches, there is someone here who has some news for us,'' Emma began, ''Jessie?'' The coach signaled for the Canadian to take her spot at the front of the room.

The midfielder quietly walked towards Emma. ''Hey, everyone,” she awkwardly greeted the room, "I, uh... I have something I need to tell you.” A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to Jessie.

Y/N's eyes became fixed on the floor, not feeling ready to hear this for a second time.

''I've received an offer from the Portland Thorns,” she said, still a bit on edge, ''and… I've decided to accept it. So this is actually my, uh, last day as a Blue.''

"I... I know this might come as a surprise," Jessie continued, her voice faltering. "you guys are an amazing group, and I'm so lucky to have shared the pitch with such incredible players. All of you will always have a special place in my heart, and, yeah, just thank you for everything.'' She finished her small speech, becoming emotional.

She received applause from the squad and staff in the room. Emma was the first to give her a hug. A flicker of irritation flashed through Y/N at the thought of their coach's role in Jessie's decision to leave, but she pushed it aside, knowing that now was not the time.

All the players got up from their seats to say their own ‘thank you's' or give their own hugs to Jessie. However, the young striker remained seated, finding herself unable to follow her teammates.

With a heavy heart, Y/N quietly rose from her seat, her footsteps barely audible as she made her way towards the door.

She felt a hand on her shoulder as she almost went for the door handle. ''You okay?''

Y/N was met with Sam as she turned around, the Australian's face expressing concern over her teammate's exit without having said anything to her girlfriend.

''Yeah, just need the bathroom.'' She replied, quickly.

Sam nodded and let her go, but she was not convinced. The No. 20 shared a look with her captain who had also watched the young woman's escape.

Millie swiftly ruffled the Canadian's hair, before walking over to Sam. ''What was that?''

''I don't know, said she needed the bathroom, but she went before the meeting.'' The experienced striker explained, a furrow in her eyebrows.

''I'll talk to her.'' Turning back to Sam, she offered a reassuring smile before making her way towards the door.

She caught up with Y/N in the hallway, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. "Hey," the Brit said delicately, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "Mind if we chat for a moment?”

Y/N hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to meet her older teammate's eyes. "Sure." she replied quietly.

She led the younger one to a more secluded area, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on their more personal moment. Millie's face was full of concern as she turned to her. ''Are you okay? What happened there? Didn't Jessie tell you already?''

''She did, she did… a few days ago.'' She answered, her voice still quiet and full of emotion.

''Then, what's wrong? Why'd you leave?''

Y/N pulled her attention from the ground to Millie's eyes. ''It's just… that, like, it seemed to have only hit me now that she's actually going, you know? She's gonna go to Portland, while I'm staying here in fucking London.''

Millie's expression softened with understanding as she listened to Y/N's words, her heart aching for her younger teammate. ''I get it,'' she put her arm around her, ''it's tough knowing that she'll be so far away, especially when you're used to having her here with you every day.''

The striker nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she struggled to contain her emotions. "Yeah," she murmured, ''I'm…'' she trailed off.

''You're what, sweetheart?''

''I'm scared.'' Her voice was small, if her teammate wasn't standing so close to her, she probably would have missed it.

''Of what?'' The captain frowned.

''The distance, I don't think I can handle it, Millie.''

Millie's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/N's voice, her own eyes brimming with tears as she wrapped her younger friend in a warm embrace. "I understand," she murmured, offering her a comforting squeeze, "it's okay to be scared. It's a big change. For the both of you.''

Y/N nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she struggled to articulate the depth of her fears. "I... I'm scared of losing her," she admitted softly, ''that she'll forget me while she's there.''

"You won't lose her," she reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity. "Jessie loves you, Y/N. And distance won't change that.”

Y/N sniffled, a small hiccup escaping her as she leaned into Millie's embrace, finding solace in her comforting words. "But what if... what if she meets someone else?" She whispered, her voice tinged with fear.

Millie's grip tightened, her heart breaking at the thought of her friend's pain. "Jessie loves you," she repeated firmly. "And nothing, and I really mean that, nothing will bloody change that.''

''Thanks, Mills.'' Y/N said, her head resting on her shoulder.

''You're welcome, darling. I'm always here for you. And Erin, and Sam, and Guro, Niamh, Z, all of us.'' She reassured her, wanting her to know that they'll stand by her while she goes through this difficult time.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at Millie's words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I... I really needed to hear that.”

''Anytime, bubs,'' the defender pecked the top of her head, ''I do think you need to tell Jessie this. It's important for her to know how you feel about all this.''

The younger one nodded, taking a moment to compose herself before pulling away from Millie. "You're right," she agreed, her voice a bit steadier now, ''I'll talk to her about it.''

Millie gave her a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with encouragement. ''Great, she'll understand. It's Jessie, remember?'' She chuckled, trying to get a grin out of her friend.

She was successful as Y/N managed to crack a smile. ''Yeah, it's Jessie,'' she straightened her posture as if ready for battle, ''thanks again, Mills. I really appreciate it.''

The defender nodded, the smile on her own face widening. ''You're very welcome, sweetheart.'' She gave Y/N a small pat on the back.

The next evening, they sat together in their dimly lit living room, trying to watch a movie. Y/N glanced over at Jessie, whose eyes were focused on the television.

"Jessie," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, ''can I, uh, talk to you about something?''

The Canadian's brows furrowed in concern as she turned towards her partner. ''Of course.''

Y/N took a deep breath. ''First, I am so happy for you that you're going somewhere where they are appreciating your talent, and that you'll be closer to your family and your siblings...'' she began, her words slow and measured. She paused, struggling to meet Jessie's gaze. ''I just don't think that I, uh, am gonna be able to handle the distance.''

Jessie's stomach twisted with unease as she absorbed her words. In the days since it had become official that she would be moving to Portland, they hadn't really discussed how their relationship would proceed. Each of them had spoken about it with their friends, but they both seemed hesitant to broach the topic with each other, perhaps afraid of the uncertainty it might bring.

''I want to, Jessie, I really want to try- I just want you to know how I feel, it's been bothering me.''

The midfielder found it hard to respond as she observed her girlfriend who looked like she was about to burst out in tears. Tears welled up in Jessie's eyes as she reached out to gently cup Y/N's face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. "I understand," she whispered, her voice strained, "and I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Y/N's own eyes started to water. She leaned into Jessie's touch, her heart breaking at the thought of losing her. ''I love you, J Flem.''

''I love you.'' Jessie reciprocated as she took her partner into her arms, wanting her as close as possible.

''I don't know if I can handle being so far apart, not seeing you or speaking to you every day. International break is already a killer for me, and it's difficult to just go back-and-forth between Portland and London.'' The striker whispered into Jessie's neck, not able to say it any louder.

The Canadian nodded, completely understanding her perspective. ''I know,'' she whispered back, 'I never wanted to put you in this position."

For a moment, they simply held each other in silence, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air. But as the minutes ticked by, the reality of their situation became increasingly clear.

''I don't want to hold you back.'' Y/N said, her voice muffled against the fabric of Jessie's shirt.

''You're not holding me back at all.'' Jessie immediately retorted, ruffling her hair.

Y/N weakly chuckled. ''It feels like I am.''

''Please don't think that, babe.''

They were both aware of what was coming, they were simply wasting time as if that would somehow work and they wouldn't have to leave each other.

''I remember when I first joined Chelsea, and I was watching some of you guys' matches, and thinking you were so intimidating,'' Jessie broke the silence.

''but then you were actually one of the first people to say hi to me, and you just looked so different than on the pitch. You were smiling, and trying your best to make me feel welcome.'' She laughed, an affectionate smile playing on her lips.

Y/N grinned as well, while wiping some loose tears away. ''I just remember thinking you looking super awkward.'' She dryly responded.

Jessie gave her a light push. ''Hey!''

''I also thought you were very cute… with your flushed cheeks.'' She quickly added.

The midfielder ironically blushed at the admission.

It became quiet between the two of them again, reminiscing their early days as teammates at Chelsea.

''We'll find our way back to one another, I'm sure of it.'' Jessie nodded.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat at Jessie's words. ''We're still so young, you never know what can happen.''

''And I know what's going to happen. You and I, together- whenever, wherever that may be.'' She reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity.

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening with the weight of their impending separation. "I love you, Jessie." She told her, the pair locking eyes.

"I love you too," Jessie replied, her voice catching in her throat, "more than anything."