Xena&gab 21st scrolls

Morning came quietly.

Soft light filled the house, slow and gentle—like nothing in the world was rushing you.

I walked into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and there she was—making pancakes like she had her life together.

“You’re awake,” she smiled.

I nodded, sitting nearby. For a moment, I thought I’d stay quiet.

But something in me didn’t.

“It hurt,” I said.

She didn’t ask what. She just turned off the stove, walked to the couch, and sat down.

I followed.

And then it came out. Not perfectly. Not in order. Just… real.

She listened. Fully. No interruptions. No fixing.

When I stopped, she opened her arms—and I leaned into them without thinking.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered.

Warm. Safe. The kind of comfort that doesn’t ask questions.

Then—

“Did I interrupt something?”

We both looked up.

She was standing at the door, calm, observing. Of course.

“I’m just comforting our little baby,” she said softly.

“I hate you,” I groaned.

“She’s not little anymore,” came the reply. “She’s a grown woman.”

A pause.

Then—

“She has to see this.”

“…what?”

Before I could react, she pulled out her phone.

“Wait—stop—don’t you dare!” I laughed, sitting up quickly.

Too late.

“For documentation,” she said calmly. “Lila would appreciate this.”

“XENA—NO—”

“Stay where you are.”

“I will not stay where I am!”

I tried to grab the phone—she just lifted it higher.

“You’re making it worse.”

“You’re unbelievable!”

Click.

Silence.

“…you didn’t.”

“I did.”

I covered my face. “I’m leaving this house.”

“I’ll send it later.”

“YOU WILL NOT—”

“We’ll see.”

She slipped the phone away like nothing happened.

And somehow… that made it worse.

But also funnier.

We ended up sitting together again, pancakes half-eaten, the moment settling into something softer.

Then she spoke again.

“When you were in my wife’s arms… did you feel something?”

I laughed immediately. “Stop.”

“Did you?” she continued, completely unbothered. “Don’t be scared. I won’t eat you. I mean… she is charming.”

Something in me pushed back.

“So what… are you jealous, Warrior Princess?”

“Stop embarrassing her!” she laughed beside me.

But she stepped closer.

“If I were really jealous,” she said quietly, “you wouldn’t be sitting here.”

That landed.

“So,” she added, “go on.”

I looked down for a second.

“I was upset,” I said. “And… your Gabrielle has a way of soothing a heartache.”

A small smile.

“She’s adorable. In all her ways.”

Silence.

Then she pulled her closer, looking at her like nothing else existed.

“I’m in love with the most beautiful woman.”

She smiled—but of course, couldn’t stay serious.

“So… were you a bit jealous, Miss Warrior?”

No answer.

I shook my head, laughing softly.

“You’re an old couple… and you still don’t miss a chance to show your love.”

“Old?!” she gasped.

“Accurate,” came the calm reply.

Laughter filled the room.

And just like that—

what started heavy…

turned into something warm.

Because somehow, in that house,

you don’t stay hidden for long.

But you also don’t stay alone.

She walked away like she didn’t just ruin my entire nervous system.

I didn’t think.

I followed.

The door wasn’t locked.

Of course it wasn’t.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed… like she knew I’d come.

No games now.

No running.

We didn’t talk.

We didn’t need to.

The kiss happened—

slow… soft… real.

Not chaos. Not a question.

Just… chosen.

For a second—

nothing else existed.

My hand moved.

She caught it gently.

«Lila (soft): “Hey… hold your horses, warrior.”»

A small smile.

«“I want you… as much as you want this. But not tonight.”»

No rejection. No fear.

Just… control.

We lay down.

She curled into me like it was natural.

«Lila (half-asleep): “Don’t disappear tomorrow.”»

«Me: “I won’t.”»

📱 buzz

«Gabby: “We know 😌 Sleep tight, love birds 💛”»

«Xena: “Proud of you. Like father like son.”»

💀

“I’m moving out,” I said.

She laughed.

Then quiet again.

Warm. Easy.

«Lila (soft): “Goodnight, Maria.”»

«Me: “Goodnight, Lila.”»

And for once—

no one ran. no one overthought.

just… no harm.

Back home, Xena cornered me in the kitchen.

No escape.

«Xena: “You’re not confused, Maria. You’re scared of what happens if this is real.”»

I crossed my arms.

«Me: “It is complicated, Xena. She’s ‘straight.’ She has a boyfriend waiting for her across the border. And me? I have years of history elsewhere. Wouldn’t it be unfaithful to—”»

Xena cut me off.

«Xena: “I’m not encouraging betrayal, Maria. But you’ve been in a relationship for years trying to be faithful, and what do you get? Coldness. Avoidance. Even rejection of the most beautiful parts of you.”»

A beat.

«“That’s not loyalty. That’s a slow fade.”»

I looked away.

She wasn’t done.

«Xena: “And her? It’s just a boyfriend. Yes, he’s gentle… but he’s a guy, Maria. You’ve been there—you know what that means.”»

«“She makes me laugh. Because I know there’s more going on inside her than she’s admitting.”»

A pause.

«Xena (low): “You’re standing still and calling it ‘respect’ for these labels… but the gap is real.”»

«“And it’s being filled… right here.”»

I went quiet.

«Me: “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”»

She softened—just a little.

«Xena: “Then don’t. But don’t call it protection when it’s fear.”»

Silence.

Then—

«Xena: “You’re waiting for the perfect moment, right?”»

A small shake of her head.

«Xena (steady): “In war… the one who waits too long for the perfect moment is the one who loses everything.”»

«“There is no perfect moment. There’s just a moment… and whether you’re brave enough to take it.”»

She left.

And of course—

I talked about the weather. 💀

«Lila: “You’re really giving me a weather report right now?”»

She turned to leave.

I didn’t think.

I grabbed her.

«Me: “Listen… bun girl. You’re chaos and softness—and I like you. You kissed me and ran. What am I supposed to do?”»

Silence.

«Me (lower): “It’s complicated. I don’t even know if you feel anything… or if I’m just—”»

She stepped closer.

She didn’t argue. She didn’t explain. She just… stayed.

Not rushed. Not shy.

«Lila: “All I know is this…”»

A small pause.

«“…when I’m with you, I don’t think about the weather.”»

That was it.

No explanation. No confusion.

Just truth.

And somehow...

Morning started peaceful… which should’ve been our first warning.

Xena and Gabrielle were being that couple again— soft smiles, silent understanding, the kind of love that makes you want to throw bread at them.

We did.

They didn’t care.

“Our house,” Xena said.

Unbelievable.

Then Gabrielle clapped.

“You two. Dessert. Together.”

Manipulation? Yes. Effective? Also yes.

The shop was warm. Quiet.

We sat across from each other like normal people... which lasted five minutes.

Lila (quiet): “I don’t usually go out like this…”

I looked up.

“…with someone who makes it feel like something.”

And just like that

everything shifted.

No jokes after that.

Just silence… pretending nothing changed.

Or as Lila calls it: “Maria’s almost-death-but-make-it-funny.”

The morning after our chaotic hangout, the kitchen smelled like warm bread and fresh coffee. I walked in smiling like an idiot, proud I survived last night’s teasing.

Gabby was humming while slicing fruit. Lila was sipping her coffee, cheeks turning pink the second she looked at me. And Xena…

Xena was sitting at the head of the table, sharpening a dagger with the intensity of someone preparing for war. Jaw set. Eyes locked on the blade like it owed her money. I sat down quietly.

Gabby placed pancakes in front of me, suspiciously cheerful. Gabby: “Good morning! Eat well, my favorite Warrior Poet—you’re gonna need your strength today.”

I barely lifted my fork when— THUD! Xena slammed her dagger into the table. My fork nearly flew across the room. She finally looked up, those ice-blue eyes pinning me in place.

Xena: “We need to talk. You crossed a line last night. Flirting with my partner? In my culture, challenging the lover of a Warrior Princess means one thing: a duel to the death.”

My soul left my body on a small vacation. I looked at Gabby for help—she had her face buried in her hands, shoulders shaking like she was crying.

Lila stared at her mug, refusing to get involved.

Me: “Xena, please—Gabrielle started it! I was just playing along! Zero meaning. Zero!” Xena: “Gabrielle started it? Your mug, your shirt, everything says ‘Warrior Poet.’ You claim the title. Stand and defend it.” I threw my hands up.

Me: “Xena, I’m just a poet. A poet-poet! Not a real warrior poet! The sword is aesthetic, the vibe is metaphorical, the danger is OPTIONAL!” Xena did not care.

She rose—slowly, dramatically—then moved in a blur of leather and rage. Before I could breathe, she grabbed my arm and flipped me clean over her shoulder.

BAM. I hit the floor like an unpaid debt. Then she knelt beside me, one knee pinning my chest, dagger pressed to my cheek. Cold steel. No escape. I stared up at her like a condemned poet writing her final line. I turned to Lila for mercy.

Lila looked down… paused… then burst into laughter. Gabby lifted her head—no tears, just a HUGE grin. Xena stood, wiped her blade, and let out that rare deep warrior laugh. They all pointed at me and yelled: All: “APRIL FOOOOOLS!”

The door stayed closed. Too long. Lila and I sat frozen. “…do you hear anything?” Lila whispered. “…no.” “…that’s worse.” A pause. Then— a thud. We both jumped. “…okay that’s not reassuring.”

Minutes passed. Then finally— The door opened. Gabrielle walked out first. Hair slightly messy. Expression calmer. Xena followed. Also calm. Too calm.

“…they solved it,” Lila whispered. “…they definitely solved it,” I whispered back.

Gabrielle sat down like nothing happened. “You’re still here.” “…yes?” I said. “We did not follow,” Lila added quickly. Gabrielle smiled. “Good.” Silence.

I couldn’t take it. “…so?” “So?” Gabrielle echoed. Lila pointed between them. “That.” Xena sighed lightly. Gabrielle tried not to smile. Then— “I had a bad day,” Gabrielle said. I blinked. “…that’s it?” She nodded

“I walked in, saw her… and knew if I looked at her, I’d forget why I was upset.” A small glance at Xena. “So I didn’t.” “…so you kissed us instead?” I asked. “Distraction,” Gabrielle said. Lila gasped. “You used us.” “Emotionally,” Gabrielle corrected. Xena leaned back. “She also admitted she did it on purpose.” “…maybe a little,” Gabrielle said. “OMG,” Lila and I whispered.

Xena shook her head. “I asked what was wrong.” Gabrielle’s voice softened. “Work. People. Noise. Everything.” A pause. “And I didn’t want to bring it to you like that.”

Silence shifted. Xena’s voice lowered. “You don’t have to filter yourself with me.” “I know.” “…I just wanted one second where I felt normal first.”

Another pause. Then Xena reached for her hand. “Next time… come to me first.” Gabrielle smiled softly. “Next time… make enough coffee.”

Lila and I both exhaled. “…they’re okay.” “…they’re very okay.”

Gabrielle looked back at us— playful again. “I still missed you.” “Stop,” I said. “She’s right there,” Lila added. Xena didn’t even look at us. “I know.” Which somehow was worse.

I hid my face. “This house is not safe.” “Not emotionally,” Lila agreed. Gabrielle laughed. And just like that— everything settled again.

The apartment door opened.

Gabrielle walked in—quiet, unreadable. She leaned in, kissed my cheek. Then Lila’s.

“Hi.”

And just like that… she walked past. No pause. No glance. No Xena.

Silence.

I slowly turned my head. Xena was standing there. Still. Too still.

Lila whispered, “…she didn’t say hi.” I whispered back, “…she kissed me first.”

A pause. Then—Xena moved. Straight to the kitchen.

Lila grabbed my arm. “We are not following.” “We are not following,” I agreed.

…We took two steps forward.

And stopped. Voices from the kitchen—

Gabrielle: “I was going to come back.” Xena: “You didn’t.”

Silence. Then—

Xena: “You greeted them.”

I pressed my hand over my mouth, already smiling. Lila whispered sharply, “Maria—shhh! Stop being happy about it.”

Then Xena again, sharper now: “You kissed them.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed into my palm. “You kissed Maria first—”

Lila elbowed me. “MARIA—!”

Inside the kitchen—Silence.

Xena: “…oh my God. What’s wrong, Gab?” Gabrielle: “Nothing.” Xena: “Gabrielle.”

A beat. A cup lifted. Footsteps.

Lila and I RAN back to the couch.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling like my life depended on it. Lila sat beside me like a perfectly innocent statue.

Gabrielle walked in first. Calm. Too calm. Xena behind her. Not calm. At all.

She dropped onto the couch, grabbed the remote, and started switching channels aggressively.

Click. Click. Click.

Gabrielle sat casually. Then, sweetly: “So… how was your day?”

Lila elbowed me. Answer. “Uh—fine. Good. Normal.” “Very peaceful,” Lila added, sounding like a robot.

Click. Click. Click. Xena didn’t look at anyone. Gabrielle leaned back, still smiling… then added casually—

“I missed you today.”

I choked. Lila whispered, “…oh my God.” “OMG,” we both mouthed.

Click. The TV stopped.

Silence. Xena turned slowly.

“…okay.” That tone. “Either you say what’s going on… or I will force you.”

Gabrielle tilted her head, smiling. “And how’s that?”

And before we could react—Xena stood up and lifted her. Just like that. Gabrielle laughed— “Xena—stop—”

But she didn’t. She carried her toward the hallway. Gabrielle pointed at us, still laughing: “Do not follow.”

The door closed. Silence.

Lila whispered, “…I’m scared.” I whispered back, “…I’m entertained.”

Warning: Morning kisses may occur before tea. Soft hearts may be observed. Single spectators beware.

I pushed the bedroom door open with a tray of tea.

“Morning, warrior lovers.”

Xena was already awake, calm as ever. Gabrielle was still tangled in blankets, blinking at the light.

“Is that tea?” Gabrielle asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Because legendary heroes apparently need help before 8 a.m.”

Xena accepted her cup with a nod. “A wise offering.”

Gabrielle sat up, hair everywhere, taking hers. Xena reached out and brushed a loose strand from Gabrielle’s face—and Gabrielle went instantly quiet.

“Oh,” I said slowly. “So that’s why mornings take longer here.”

Gabrielle glared. “Don’t start.”

Five minutes later: absolute chaos. Jackets half on. Bags missing.

“Has anyone seen my notebook?” Gabrielle asked, frantically searching the table.

Xena leaned calmly against the wall. “You had it.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

Gabrielle stopped. “Did you hide it?”

Xena reached into her leather jacket and produced it with a smirk. Gabrielle stared. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You left it on the couch,” Xena said quietly. “Someone had to keep it safe.”

Gabrielle grabbed it, but Xena didn’t let go immediately. “For the record,” Gabrielle muttered, “most people just return things.”

“Most people,” Xena said, pulling her a step closer, “don’t lose maps before work.”

I sipped my tea, watching the show. “I’m starting to think the only map Gabrielle truly understands…”

Gabrielle pointed a warning finger at me. “Careful.”

“…is the one that leads to Xena.”

Gabrielle’s ears went pink. Xena finally let go of the notebook, but as Gabrielle turned to head for the door, Xena caught her wrist and pulled her back.

A quick, soft, familiar kiss.

“Goodbye kiss confirmed,” I whispered.

Gabrielle turned red. “We did not schedule commentary!”

Lila appeared at the door, shaking her head. “You’re both impossible.”

As we stepped into the hallway, I grabbed my bag and sighed. Mission accomplished: distract Gabrielle before work.

Primary lesson of the morning:

Even legendary warriors can’t resist soft hearts and sneaky kisses.

Morning light slipped through the curtains while I sat with my coffee.

Across from me, Gabrielle had a notebook open.

“Did you know,” she said proudly, “ancient travelers often started their journeys at dawn?”

From the couch, Xena muttered without opening her eyes.

“You’ve been reading again.”

“I’m a teacher,” Gabrielle replied. “Maps are my job.”

“Your… philosophical geography job,” I teased.

Gabrielle grinned. “Some roads wind. Some lead you somewhere unexpected.”

Xena finally sat up.

“The only direction Gabrielle never gets lost with,” she said calmly, “is toward trouble.”

I couldn’t resist.

“Or toward your heart.”

Gabrielle froze.

Xena stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on the back of Gabrielle’s chair.

“Persistent traveler,” she murmured.

Gabrielle tilted her head up, smiling.

“Some journeys are worth repeating.”

Xena leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Gabrielle’s temple.

“Good navigation,” she said.

Right then the door opened and Lila walked in with a bag of pastries.

She looked at us and raised an eyebrow.

“Morning,” she said. “Did I interrupt a geography lesson?”

I lifted my coffee.

“Something like that.”

Teachers’ Day is apparently a real thing. Which means around 8 p.m. I got a message from Gabrielle.

teachers deserve appreciation tonight.

Two seconds later:

small gathering.

Then from Xena:

there is no gathering.

I stared at my phone. Counted to five. Failed.

Final message from Gabrielle: bring your teacher wisdom.

Which sounded suspicious.

So obviously I went.

The apartment looked like a geography department had quietly taken over.

Maps.

Actual maps.

One on the wall. One on the table. One halfway folded like someone had dramatically referenced it mid-lecture.

Gabrielle appeared from the kitchen glowing with pride.

“It’s thematic.”

Behind her, Xena stood with arms crossed.

“She redecorated the living room.”

“It’s educational,” Gabrielle corrected.

“For Teachers’ Day?” I asked.

Gabrielle pointed at the map of the world like she was about to explain continental drift.

“I teach geography.”

“You also turn every lesson into philosophy,” I said.

“That’s enrichment.”

From the couch, Xena muttered, “It’s a crisis.”

Just then the door opened quietly.

Lila stepped in like she always does — calm, observant, carrying a small box of pastries like she had been invited by the universe itself.

Gabrielle lit up.

“You came!”

“I heard there was a faculty meeting,” Lila said softly.

Xena nodded once.

“Unavoidable.”

We settled around the table like a very small academic council.

Gabrielle brought tea.

“Teachers’ Day rule,” she announced.

“What rule?” I asked.

“We celebrate surviving our students.”

I lifted my mug.

“To survival.”

Xena raised hers.

“To patience.”

Lila lifted hers last, thoughtful.

“To curiosity.”

We paused.

“That’s nicer than what we said,” I admitted.

She smiled.

“It’s still survival.”

Soon Gabrielle was describing a lesson about rivers.

Which somehow turned into a discussion about journeys, choices, and “the emotional symbolism of water.”

I stared at her.

“That escalated.”

“It’s geography,” she insisted.

Xena shook her head slowly.

“They’re never going to pass their exams.”

Lila leaned forward slightly, studying the map.

“You know,” she said quietly, “rivers are interesting.”

Gabrielle brightened instantly.

“See! Academic engagement!”

Lila continued calmly.

“They move around obstacles instead of fighting them.”

The room went quiet for a second.

Xena glanced at her.

“That sounded philosophical.”

Gabrielle pointed triumphantly.

“Geography!”

I laughed.

“Lila just improved your entire lesson plan.”

Later the room softened the way it does when conversations run out of energy.

Maps still everywhere. Lamps warm. Tea almost finished.

Gabrielle leaned against Xena’s shoulder, satisfied with her educational evening.

Lila was tracing a quiet line across the map with her finger.

“Where does that river go?” I asked.

She looked up.

“Eventually? The ocean.”

“Optimistic,” Xena said.

“Geography,” Gabrielle corrected.

As I grabbed my coat near the door, Gabrielle called out:

“Happy Teachers’ Day!”

Xena added calmly:

“Next year without the maps.”

Gabrielle gasped.

“Never.”

Lila smiled as I stepped out.

“Good teachers,” she said softly, “don’t just explain the world.”

“They remind people to look at it.”

I laughed all the way down the stairs.

Teachers’ Day policy remains unchanged.

Gabrielle teaches geography. Which is somehow also philosophy. Lila quietly improves the lecture.

And apparently I’m part of the faculty now.

Valentine’s at their place is technically private. That’s what Xena says every year. “Romance is not a public event.”

And every year, around 9:30 p.m., I get a message anyway.

This time it was Gabrielle first: emergency. Two seconds later: she’s being dramatic. Then from Xena: there is no emergency. I stared at my phone. Counted to five. Failed. Final message: bring dessert. and behave. So obviously I went.

The apartment looked like a love poem had exploded. Candles everywhere. Flowers doing the absolute most. Soft music playing like we were seconds away from a confession scene in a period drama.

Gabrielle was pacing. “She thinks it’s too much.”

Xena stood near the table, arms crossed, perfectly composed. “It is too much.”

I set the dessert down slowly. Carefully. Like I had entered diplomalltic territory.

“It’s… passionate,” I said. Xena pointed at me. “See.” Gabrielle gasped. “That was not siding with you!” “I’m neutral,” I insisted. “I was summoned as emotional referee.”

Xena walked past me and muttered, “You’re enjoying this.” “I am absolutely not,” I said, already smiling.

Gabrielle turned to Xena. “You pretend you don’t like grand gestures.”

“I dislike spectacle,” Xena corrected calmly.

“You love spectacle,” Gabrielle shot back.

“You just prefer it controlled.”

There was a pause.

And then Xena stepped forward, wrapped a hand around Gabrielle’s waist, and kissed her. Not dramatic. Not showy. Just certain. Gabrielle melted immediately. Of course she did. And I froze. Like always. Front row seat. No ticket required. They broke apart slowly.

Gabrielle blinked up at her. “You could’ve just said you liked it.” “I do,” Xena replied. Calm. Grounded. In control. Then she looked at me. “You can leave now.” I laughed. “So I was allowed as a consultant only?” “Yes.”

Gabrielle walked me to the door, still glowing. “Happy Valentine’s.”

I grabbed my coat, pretending I wasn’t smiling like an idiot.

As I stepped out, I heard Gabrielle say softly behind me: “She loves you too, you know.” A pause. Then Xena, low and steady: “I know.” The door closed.

Valentine’s policy remains unchanged. No guests. Except me. Consultant. Emotionally invested. Absolutely not neutral.

***No consultants were harmed. Just emotionally invested and smiling like idiots during this production of an emotional motion picture.****

It was supposed to be a calm friends’ night at Xena’s.

Snacks on the table. Blankets stolen without permission. Xena stretched on the couch like a cat who owned the place (which she absolutely did). Gabby, however, was far too quiet.

That should’ve been our first warning. Then we heard it. A noise from next door. A thud. A very suspicious “ow.”

Xena was on her feet in half a second. “Stay here,” she ordered, already grabbing her jacket. “Xena—” Gabby started. “Nope,” Xena said. “Nobody gets hurt on my watch.”

She was out the door like instinct itself. We stared at each other. “…Was that dramatic?” I whispered. Gabby shrugged. “A little.”

Two minutes later, the truth betrayed itself. From next door came Gabby’s unmistakable laugh.

Xena stopped mid-step. Slowly, she turned around. “…You did that on purpose.”

Gabby smiled, sweet and very guilty. “I just wanted to see if you’d still rush like that.”

Xena stared at her. Calm. Still. Calculating. “Oh,” she said mildly. “So you were testing my reflexes.”

She stepped back inside, closed the door very carefully, and locked it. “Good to know,” she continued, dropping onto the couch. “They still work. Congratulations.”

Gabby blinked. “You’re not mad?” Xena leaned back, arms crossed. “I ran across apartments for you. I’m allowed one emotion and I’m choosing sarcasm.”

She glanced at us. “Everyone stay seated. Movie night.” What followed was art.

A full couple discussion unfolded—pacing, pointing, dramatic sighs. Gabby accused. Xena countered, calm and precise, like she was already ten steps ahead. At one point, Gabby exclaimed, “You didn’t have to rush like that!” Xena tilted her head. “And yet I did. Which is the problem.” We did not blink. This was better than television.

Then Xena added, completely unbothered, “Are you finished, or should I make tea while you process your feelings?” Gabby threw her hands up. “You’re impossible!” Xena stood, stepped closer, and said quietly, “And you love it.” That’s when it happened. No warning. No buildup. Just an angry, familiar kiss.

We froze. “…Again?” someone whispered. They pulled apart moments later, annoyed, breathless, and very much in love.

When they finally came back to us, Gabby cleared her throat. “Sorry.” Xena reclaimed her spot on the couch like a queen returning to her throne. “Apology accepted,” she said lazily. “Next time, use a better sound effect.” Gabby sighed. “You’re impossible.” Xena smirked, eyes half-closed. “I was never out of control.”

Friends’ night resumed. Xena stayed in charge. Gabby was already plotting her next test.

*Slighltly eedited for flow and extra mischief*

The rain poured, making the streets glisten like the world was wrapped in a cozy blanket.

Lila appeared at my door, oversized hoodie swallowing her tiny frame.

“I insisted,” she said. “You need a break from the couple’s battlefield tonight. Even if… they somehow manage to do everything anyway.”

I laughed. “I can’t believe I let you convince me.”

“Convince?” she smirked. “I didn’t convince you. I commanded you.”

Downstairs, I could practically hear Xena and Gabrielle in full alert mode. Gabrielle’s eyes must have been narrowing.

“Of course they’d sleep in one bed. She literally invited her to her house. Her bed. What else do you think they’re gonna do?”

Xena rolled her eyes. “Who said they’d be sleeping in one bed? Maria’s probably panicking as we speak, hiding on the couch, texting every five minutes.”

Sure enough, Gabrielle’s phone vibrated. I grinned. Ohhh, the panic is real.

Xena smirked like a general surveying the battlefield. “Remember, we are all alone at home tonight. Guard duty required. Chaos guaranteed.”

Gabrielle nodded innocently. “Yeah… kitchen needs to be cleaned.”

Xena didn’t even blink. She strode over, grabbed Gabrielle by the waist, and whispered wickedly, “You’re playing fool, right?”

Gabrielle squealed, trying to pull away. “Me? Foolish? Never.”

Upstairs, Lila and I were laughing on the bed, talking about everything and nothing. The rain drummed softly on the roof, and the room smelled faintly of her vanilla shampoo and cozy fabric.

“Are you really staying?” she asked softly, brushing hair from her face.

“I can stay all night. Just… like this.” She chuckled. “Like this? Observing chaos next door?”

“Both,” I admitted, smiling.

We talked until my sides hurt from laughter, sharing confessions, silly thoughts, tiny jealous moments, and everything in between.

Occasionally, I imagined the chaos Xena and Gabby were undoubtedly creating downstairs. At one point, I couldn’t help myself.

“You should stay busy with the bride and leave us alone, warrior princess!” I shouted, echoing faintly downstairs.

Xena, multitasking through her own chaos, shouted back, “I heard that!”

Finally, after hours of talking, teasing, and stolen laughter, Lila and I lay side by side under the blanket, rain pattering on the windows, our hearts slowing.

“You make this feel… peaceful,” I whispered.

She smiled, soft and warm. “It’s because you let me.”

Slowly, sleep came.. the two of us in one bed, safe, cozy, surrounded by a night that felt like it belonged only to us.

Downstairs, I imagined Xena and Gabrielle finally crashing, half amused, half incredulous at the “little chaos” we’d set in motion. The storm outside was nothing compared to the quiet, teasing warmth upstairs.

Xena declares that everyone needs “fresh air and public distractions before feelings start unionizing.”

So we go.The Christmas village is already glowing when we arrive — strings of lights everywhere, wooden stalls, cinnamon in the air.

In the center stands a tall Christmas tree, shining like it knows it’s being admired.

Gabrielle stops walking.

Gabrielle:“…this is perfect.

”Xena:“It’s a tree, Gabrielle.”

Gabrielle:“It’s a promise.”

You and Lila laugh.

We wander slowly. Hot chocolate in cold hands. Gabrielle keeps stopping to look at everything like it might disappear if she blinks too long.

Near the edge of the village, the nativity cave sits quietly — simple figures, soft lights, peaceful in a way that makes everyone slow down.

Gabrielle goes quiet.

Xena stays quiet too. For a moment, everything feels still.

Then chaos resumes.

Gabrielle insists on photos. The stranger taking them zooms too much. Xena checks the result.

Xena:“I look like I’m wanted in three villages.”

We laugh so hard Gabrielle nearly drops her drink. Xena saves it at the last second, spilling half on herself.

Gabrielle:“You saved me.”

Xena:“I know.”

Me: " You two, never get bored of each other?!"

Gabrielle: " why..? Are you bothered?!"

Me laughing: "No, not at all... I'm just jealous.. Very jealous.. And I'm ver so right to be..."

Xena and Gabrielle and Lila laugh.

We end the night standing by the tree again. Lights glowing. Music soft.

Gabrielle leans into Xena.

Xena lets her.

Lila stands beside me, shoulder brushing mine — easy, calm, normal.

And for the first time all day, I don’t overthink it.

I woke up, before willing to go to X&G house in the morning ,with that strange little knot under my ribs. Not pain. Not excitement. Just… weird. The kind of feeling that taps you inside your chest like:

“pssst… kiss?”

The memory hits you: Lila. Kissing your cheek. That soft, slow, “habibi I care about you” Lebanese-style kiss — the kind that’s warm, comforting, not romantic… but it shakes your brain anyway.

Before last night, Lila was always just… there. So calm it sometimes annoyed you. This soft-voiced presence in the background. Part of the furniture. A breeze passing by — nice, comforting, ignorable.

Until the kiss. Until the moment your brain realized… she exists in a way you hadn’t noticed before.

You try to make tea, act normal, pretend you’re not replaying it. But Gabrielle is already sitting on the couch like she’s been waiting all night to create chaos.

Without looking up: Gabrielle: “Soooo… did you process the kiss yet?”

You choke.

Xena gives her the deadliest deadpan: Xena: “Gabrielle. Stop. She’s overthinking enough for three people.”

Gabby smirks. Xena turns to you, all calm sarcasm: Xena: “It was soft though.”

YOU: “YA 3ALAM IT WAS A NORMAL COMFORT KISS!! A LEBANESE ‘HABIBI I CARE ABOUT YOU’ KISS!! NORMAL!!!”

Gabrielle nods exaggeratedly: Gabrielle: “Yes yes, absolutely, totally normal… sure… mhm…” (sips tea like a villain)

Xena adds: Xena: “Relax. Lila has a boyfriend abroad. Nothing’s gonna happen.” But she says it with that tiny smirk that makes you want to throw a pillow.

You: “I CAN’T WITH YOU TWO.”

Before you can defend yourself further, the door opens.

Lila walks in.

Soft smile. Messy morning hair. Oversized hoodie. She pushes her hair back gently…

…and suddenly you notice everything about her for the first time.

Your heart: thump. …THUMP.

Gabby looks at you like she’s watching live theatre.

Xena leans in: Xena: “Don’t panic.”

You panic.

Lila doesn’t mention the kiss. Not because she forgot — she simply wouldn’t bring it up unless you did.

She says good morning in that calm, soft, background-voice way she always has — and you melt like a fool.

Gabrielle disappears — obviously planning emotional chaos.

Ten minutes later, Lila leaves for errands.

Gabby returns, but the teasing is gone. Her face is softer. Serious.

Gabrielle: “Okay… I may have asked her about the kiss.”

Xena facepalms.

Gabby continues gently: Gabrielle: “Relax. She said it was normal. She didn’t mean anything. And yes… she has a boyfriend. Like we already knew.”

Your chest tightens — just a small drop — but Gabby sees it immediately.

Her voice goes even softer: Gabrielle: “Hey. It’s okay. Crushes happen. And you didn’t do anything wrong.”

You look away. Blushing. Hurt, but trying to hide it.

She squeezes your shoulder: Gabrielle: “You’re not alone in this.”

The room goes quiet. Xena senses the emotional tsunami.

She immediately leaps in, dramatically waving her arms:

Xena: “OKAY. Enough. Emotional moment over. Everyone breathe before we all start writing poetry again.”

You and Gabby snap your heads toward her.

Xena: “Maria, habibti… sit. Drink water. We’ll schedule your heartbreak for next Tuesday. I’m fully booked till then.”

Gabrielle snorts. You laugh through your blush. The tension dissolves instantly.

Xena smirks — victorious. Xena: “See? Fixed it. You’re welcome.”

Disclaimer: No hearts were… or maybe some hearts were harmed — but not broken — a little… in this production. 😏

Me and Lila showed up at Xena & Gabrielle’s place today with coffee, snacks, and the emotional stamina of two single girls walking into a couple’s apartment during the holidays.

We expected chaos. We expected Gabrielle running around like a Christmas elf. We did not expect the place to look like Pinterest had achieved inner peace.

Gabby was on the floor, cross-legged, arranging Christmas decorations with all the focus of someone handling ancient treasures. She looked up and smiled:

“Finally! Help me decide—should the fairy lights be warm glow… or cozy warm glow?”

Xena, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, smirked: “Gabrielle… they’re identical.”

Gabby gasped like she’d been personally betrayed by the lighting gods. “They are absolutely NOT identical.”

She looked at us for backup, and we just shrugged, because honestly? They were identical.

We started decorating—hanging stockings, fixing ribbons, arguing about where the little Christmas village should go—while Gabrielle hummed carols and Xena “helped” by moving things to the wrong spots on purpose.

Every. Single. Time.

Gabby finally spun around: “Xena. Stop. Touching. Things.”

Xena: “What? I’m helping.” Gabby: “You hung the reindeer upside down.” Xena: “Maybe he’s doing yoga.”

Lila and I were dying laughing, but then…

Then it happened.

Gabrielle reached for the top shelf to place a small ornament and almost dropped it. Before anyone could react, Xena stepped behind her, one arm around her waist, the other steadying her wrist.

Gabby froze… then smiled without even looking back.

And suddenly, the whole room felt like that slow, warm, soft glow couples get when the universe reminds singles that yes… we are very single.

Xena, in a voice way too soft for anyone’s good: “Careful… you’re precious cargo.”

Gabrielle, flustered but trying not to look it: “Or maybe you just don’t want me breaking another ornament.”

Xena leaned in, whispered something we definitely weren’t supposed to hear, and Gabby turned as red as a Christmas ribbon.

Me and Lila on the couch, gripping our coffees: “…okay. We’re dead.”

Gabrielle finally turned, glowing and breathless: “Sorry! I forgot you two were here!”

And Xena—THE AUDACITY—smirked at us: “You two okay? Need a minute? Fan? Therapy?”

We just nodded. Wordless. Defeated.

Because honestly? Decorating Christmas with them is magical— but watching them flirt right in front of us… is emotional torture we did NOT sign up for this season.

And yeah, I completely got swept away by the magic of the moment:

“Lila… can we blame them? If I were you, Gabrielle would totally fall on purpose… but it’s just me and you two living together, so you have all the time to fall into her arms.”

Lila looked at me, expression deadpan: “What?!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop before this nonsense goes too far…”

Gabby, hanging the last ornament: “Please…”

I pouted: “Okay…”

Lila laughed and, trying to comfort me, actually kissed my cheek.

Everyone burst out laughing.