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summary: paige can handle trash talk. she can handle losing. what she can't seem to handle is olivia miles talking to azzi for some reason.
wc: 4.5k
a/n: this is not a commentary on the actual situation obviously. just a little fun!
warnings: olivia miles as a plot device; somewhat possessive sex
ao3 link
Paige was still annoyed.
The game had been over for nearly ten minutes. Usually, that was enough time for her brain to move on, to start dissecting the actual basketball instead of whatever else had gotten under her skin.
Not tonight. Tonight, her brain kept circling back to Olivia Miles.
Annoying.
Mostly because Paige knew better.
She wasn't new to this. She knew exactly what opponents were trying to do when they talked. Get a reaction. Break her focus. Pull her into something that had nothing to do with basketball.
Usually, she was better than that.
But Olivia had been running her mouth at Jess all night, and after Azzi hit the floor earlier in the game?
Yeah, Paige had enough.
Because that was the thing.
Paige could handle people talking to her. Actually, she expected it. She was Paige Bueckers. People wanted to get under her skin.
Fine.
But when it was her teammates?
When it was Azzi?
That was different.
And maybe Paige knew she was being dramatic. Maybe she knew Azzi could handle herself. Maybe she knew Olivia probably wasn’t thinking about it nearly as much as she was.
Didn't matter. Paige couldn't let it go.
Olivia stayed in her head for the rest of the game, which was exactly what Paige hated. Especially as the Wings started clawing their way back, slowly closing the gap and giving everyone just enough hope before letting the game slip away anyway.
Of course.
Paige tried not to dwell on it as she walked off the court, but that was impossible. Her brain was already doing what it always did after a loss.
Replaying every possession.
Every mistake.
Every moment she could have handled differently.
And somehow, mixed in with every basketball mistake, Olivia’s face kept showing up.
Which was ridiculous.
Because Paige did not care about Olivia Miles.
She didn’t.
She cared about the game. She cared about losing. She cared about her teammates.
That was all.
By the time she reached the locker room, the noise of the crowd still echoed faintly through the concrete hallway, and she was still carrying the frustration with her.
Azzi was watching her carefully, head tilted slightly, concern written on her face.
Paige hated that Azzi could read her so easily.
She hated it.
She also loved it.
But Azzi always knew.
Paige gave the smallest shake of her head, a silent conversation passing between them.
Not now.
Not when Paige was still too annoyed to explain why she was annoyed.
Azzi held her gaze for another second before nodding, letting it go.
For now.
By the time Paige finally walked into their apartment, the frustration was still sitting right there beneath the surface.
Usually, Paige was already halfway through explaining a possession before she’d even taken her shoes off. Tonight, she didn’t say anything. She just stood there for a second, keys still in her hand, like she’d walked through the door but hadn’t actually left the game behind.
Then she saw Azzi in the kitchen, standing at the counter with her back half-turned, heating something up for them to eat.
Azzi seemed lighter than Paige felt.
"Hey, you," Azzi said when she noticed her, an easy smile pulling at her lips.
Paige didn't answer.
Instead, she crossed the kitchen, closing the distance between them, and slipped her arms around Azzi's waist from behind. She rested her chin on Azzi's shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.
Azzi smiled softly, leaning back into her without saying anything.
Usually, this was the part where Paige started breaking down every possession. The missed rotations. The questionable whistle in the third quarter. The shot she'd forced with six minutes left because apparently she and patience weren't on speaking terms.
Usually, Azzi would let her pace around the apartment and relive every moment until Paige finally convinced herself the game was over.
Tonight?
Nothing.
Azzi shifted in Paige's arms, turning her head enough to catch a glimpse of her face.
"You're quiet."
Paige shrugged, her cheek brushing against Azzi's shoulder.
"Just tired.”
Close enough.
Azzi studied her for a second, still leaning back against her.
"Long game," Azzi said quietly, rubbing her thumb over Paige's forearm.
Not a question. They'd both felt every second of it.
"Yeah."
Paige let the word hang there.
It was easier than admitting the truth.
That she’d let someone, a rookie, get under her skin.
The silence stretched between them, but Azzi didn't rush to fill it.
"You sure you're okay?"
Paige looked down, catching Azzi's eyes as she glanced back at her.
"Yeah," Azzi said quietly. "I'm fine."
Paige nodded.
Good. That was all she'd wanted to hear. Or at least, it should've been.
Azzi absentmindedly traced her thumb over Paige's wrist.
"Liv actually apologized."
Paige's arms tightened around her before she even realized she was doing it, her fingers pressing into the fabric of Azzi's sweatshirt.
"...She talked to you?"
Azzi turned a little more in her arms, enough to look back at her properly. There was a small hint of amusement on her face.
"Yeah."
Paige tried to make herself sound casual.
"After the game?"
Azzi’s mouth twitched.
"You're really interested in this."
"I'm just asking."
Azzi tilted her head.
"She asked if I was okay."
A small smile tugged at Azzi's lips.
"She was nice."
Of course she was.
That shouldn't have bothered Paige nearly as much as it did.
She'd watched Olivia spend four quarters getting under everyone's skin.
Now she was apologizing?
To Azzi?
Paige knew she was probably being unfair.
But that didn’t stop the image from bothering her.
Olivia walking over after the game, wearing that innocent little smile and saying all the right things.
Paige frowned slightly as the thought settled in.
Wait.
"You call her Liv?"
The words left her mouth before she'd had the chance to stop them.
Azzi’s brow furrowed, turning more fully in Paige's arms so she could see her face.
"Yeah?"
"Since when?"
Paige immediately regretted how interested she sounded.
"I don't know." Azzi shrugged. "We've talked a few times."
"Huh."
Azzi blinked.
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
"Paige."
There was a warning in her voice.
Paige sighed, trying to recover.
"I just didn't realize you were on nickname terms."
Azzi leaned back against the counter, folding her arms as she watched Paige unravel.
Then her eyebrows lifted.
"Nickname terms? What does that mean?"
Yeah.
That had been the wrong thing to say.
She felt Azzi shift in her arms, turning a little more until Paige couldn't just hide behind her shoulder anymore. The conversation had gone from something casual to something Azzi was definitely going to make her explain.
And Paige really did not want to make this a thing.
Because it wasn't.
It wasn't the reason she'd chirped back at Olivia.
It was just...
An extra third thing sitting quietly in the back of her mind.
But Paige noticed.
Of course she did.
She noticed everything when it came to Azzi.
Apparently, she'd been quiet for too long, because Azzi's mouth suddenly twitched.
Then she started laughing.
"Oh my god, Paige. You cannot be serious."
"Stop," Paige protested immediately.
She pulled back just enough to give Azzi a look, even though she knew it wasn't helping her case.
"Come on bro. It's not like that."
Azzi's laughter faded into a smile.
"Not like what?"
Paige opened her mouth, then closed it again.
She didn't actually know what she was trying to argue.
"It's not like I'm—"
"Jealous?"
That was exactly what Paige did not want to be a thing. "I'm not jealous."
Azzi clearly did not believe her at all, and was having a great time calling her out on it.
"Paige."
"You're really bothered because she apologized to me?"
"No."
Azzi watched her carefully.
"Because she was nice to me?"
"No."
A pause.
"Because I called her Liv?"
Paige sighed.
"You keep bringing that up."
"Because you keep reacting to it."
Paige looked away, picking at the seam of her sleeve.
"It's not what happened."
Azzi smiled sightly.
"Okay."
"It isn't."
"I believe you."
Paige narrowed her eyes.
"You don't."
Azzi reached up and flicked the bill of Paige's cap.
"Not even a little."
Paige let out a sigh, knowing she wasn't winning this argument.
"I just don't like her."
"I know."
And the annoying thing was, Azzi wasn't wrong.
They weren't the kind of people who kept score over every person who walked into their lives. They trusted each other. They knew each other.
Azzi was Azzi.
Paige was Paige.
Olivia wasn't a threat.
That was what made it so frustrating.
Because Paige knew that. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to question, nothing she needed to defend.
And yet somehow, Olivia had gotten under her skin anyway.
Paige eventually let it go.
Mostly.
The season kept moving anyway.
They won their bounce-back game.
Then the one after that.
And the one after that.
The Wings found their rhythm again. The Lynx game faded into just another night in a long season.
Chicago, July 24th All-Star Weekend.
Paige loved All-Star Weekend.
All the WNBA stars in one place. Friends from around the league. People she usually only saw during games finally getting the chance to catch up, laugh, and spend time together without the pressure of a scoreboard.
Tonight was exactly that.
A crowded room full of players, music playing softly in the background, conversations overlapping from every direction. Everyone was dressed a little nicer than usual, away from the jerseys and sneakers and game-day routines.
Paige was exactly where she wanted to be.
She was halfway through a conversation with Angel, laughing about something that had happened earlier in the night, when she saw her.
Olivia.
Across the room.
Talking to Azzi.
Paige's attention slipped before she could stop it.
She missed whatever Angel said next, her eyes already drifting back toward them.
Just checking.
That was all.
It didn't mean anything.
Except then she looked again.
And then again.
And every time she looked over, Olivia was still there.
Still talking to Azzi.
Still making her smile.
Paige forced herself to look back toward Angel, but Angel was already watching her.
Not subtly, either.
Paige blinked.
"What?"
Angel tilted her head, clearly entertained.
There was also a very real possibility the alcohol was making Paige a little more obvious than she would've liked.
"Should I be concerned you’ve got it out for Olivia?"
Paige immediately looked away.
"No."
Angel waited.
Paige picked up her drink, taking a sip mostly so she had something to do with her hands.
"You've looked over there six times."
"I have not."
Angel leaned back against the couch, already looking entertained.
Paige rolled the condensation on her glass between her fingers.
"What?"
"You just did it again."
Paige froze.
She hated that Angel was right.
Before she could stop herself, she looked back across the room.
Olivia was saying something. Azzi laughed.
Again.
"She needs to go home," Paige said.
A little louder than she probably should have.
Angel slowly turned toward her.
"Who?"
Paige looked at her like the answer was obvious.
"Olivia."
Angel blinked.
"To Minnesota?"
Paige groaned, dropping back against the couch.
"I'm about to do something that I don't want to do."
Angel's eyebrows lifted.
"Is that so?"
"Azzi is going to be so mad," Paige said, already knowing that was probably the biggest reason she shouldn't.
"Then don't do it."
Paige opened her mouth.
She had an argument ready.
The problem was she hadn't actually figured out what the argument was.
Because she couldn't exactly say:
I don't like that Olivia is making my girlfriend laugh at a party.
That sounded insane.
Then Olivia leaned slightly toward Azzi and said something that made her laugh again.
Paige felt it immediately.
That little spark of irritation.
Because now it wasn't just that Olivia was talking to her.
She was making Azzi laugh.
Again.
And Paige was done pretending she wasn't bothered.
She set her drink down a little too hard and stood.
Angel's hand shot out, catching Paige by the forearm before she could get more than a step away.
"Paige."
"No."
"Yes."
"I have to."
"You absolutely do not."
Paige let her gaze drift again across the room.
Azzi was still smiling, still having a perfectly normal conversation.
Which she was.
That was the problem.
"No. I'm going."
She started to stand again.
Angel let out a long sigh, finally releasing her.
"I tried to stop you."
Paige ignored her and marched right over, weaving between clusters of players and nearly brushing shoulders with someone carrying another round of drinks.
Halfway there, she started regretting the fact that she had a very clear destination.
Suddenly she had to make it look like she hadn't crossed the room specifically to interrupt a conversation. Like she'd simply noticed Azzi and decided to say hi.
"Hey, Az," Paige said, sliding into the space beside her, shoulder brushing lightly against hers.
Azzi instinctively stepped a little closer to Paige before realizing why she'd come over.
A look that said she knew.
Not what Paige was thinking exactly, but enough.
Enough to know Paige hadn't just wandered over.
Paige ignored it and turned her attention toward Olivia.
"Olivia."
"Paige."
The silence that followed was painful.
For a second, Paige became painfully aware of everything.
The music.
The people moving around them.
The fact that they were standing in the middle of an All-Star party surrounded by half the league.
And here she was. Interrupting a conversation because she couldn't figure out what Olivia's deal was.
Olivia shifted her drink between her hands before speaking.
"I was actually just saying how I wanted to clear the air between us," Olivia said.
Her voice was calm. Almost gentle.
"I didn't want things to stay weird. I really respect you."
Paige resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
This gimmick.
The soft voice. The careful words. The way Olivia always seemed to know exactly how to make everything sound reasonable.
"Yeah, of course," Paige said. "It's competitive. That's all it is."
Olivia studied her for a second.
Paige didn't look away.
She'd had enough of Olivia acting like she had no idea why Paige was irritated. Enough of the innocent act.
She never looked caught.
Never looked like she had done anything wrong.
Just calm. Just polite.
Like Paige was the only one carrying all of this.
"Yeah, exactly," Olivia said, nodding slightly. "I just wanted to make sure we're good. You know, off the court too."
"You're good," Paige said, the words coming out flatter than she intended.
Olivia shifted her weight.
"Good."
The pause lingered.
Paige suddenly became acutely aware of herself again.
She had walked across the room, inserted herself into a conversation, and now she was just standing there.
Casually.
Olivia seemed to notice the silence before anyone else did.
She shifted her drink to her other hand and glanced between them.
"Anyway, I should probably let you two catch up."
A completely reasonable thing to say.
But Paige still felt her stomach twist.
There was no way to tell if she understood exactly why Paige was standing there, or if she was really just being polite.
"No, you don't have to—" Azzi started.
But Olivia was already smiling.
"No, really."
Her eyes flicked briefly toward Paige before settling back on Azzi.
"I know how hard it is to get a minute with you at these things."
Paige felt the comment land before she could stop it.
Because for some reason, it felt like Olivia knew exactly what she was doing.
Except Olivia wasn't even looking at her.
She was looking at Azzi.
"That is not true,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes.
Olivia raised her eyebrows.
"Really? Because I feel like I've barely gotten two minutes with you."
Paige stared, trying to decide whether she'd officially lost the plot, or whether Olivia was actually doing this on purpose.
"Anyway, I'll let you get back to your night."
Olivia's voice pulled Paige back.
Azzi gave her a small smile.
"Yeah. See you."
"See you, Paige."
She offered one last polite smile before disappearing into the crowd.
Only after Olivia was gone did Paige realize Azzi was looking at her.
She was just standing there, watching Paige.
Paige knew that look.
It wasn't the amused one Azzi gave her when she was being dramatic.
Azzi was actually annoyed.
Fuck.
Azzi folded her arms across her chest.
"Seriously?"
Paige winced.
"I didn't do anything."
Azzi let out a small, disbelieving laugh.
"Paige."
"What?"
Azzi glanced toward the crowd where Olivia had disappeared, then looked back at her.
"I was having a conversation."
"I know."
There was disappointment underneath the frustration.
"I was talking to someone. I was having a good time."
A pause.
"And then you walked over and ruined it."
Paige swallowed and looked away, rubbing the back of her neck while she searched for an explanation.
"I wasn't trying to—"
"I know."
Azzi shook her head slightly.
"That's kind of the problem."
Paige met her eyes.
"I know you don't like Olivia," Azzi continued. "I know you have your reasons."
Her eyes softened a little.
"But you don't get to decide who I talk to because you have a feeling about someone."
"I wasn't trying to control you."
"I know."
Azzi's voice softened.
"But that's what it felt like."
Her gaze drifted toward the floor.
Because that was the last thing she wanted. For Azzi to think she didn't trust her.
"I know you can handle yourself," Paige said quietly.
Azzi let her arms fall back to her sides.
"Then why?"
Paige was quiet for a moment.
"Because you're Azzi."
Azzi laughed once under her breath, shaking her head.
"Okay?"
"No, like..." Paige shook her head. "You're you."
Azzi sighed, but there was the smallest hint of a smile.
"That explains absolutely nothing."
Paige looked down.
"You're the princess."
Azzi blinked.
"And?"
"And people should know how lucky they are to get your attention."
For a moment, Azzi just watched her. The corners of her mouth twitched.
Because underneath all the irritation and jealousy, that was what Paige always came back to.
Azzi was special.
She deserved every bit of love and appreciation she got. And if Olivia could see that, well… It just meant she had eyes.
But Paige had known it first. She knew it best. And she knew exactly what to do with it.
Maybe it was time for a reminder.
"I know."
Azzi's expression shifted.
Her breath caught slightly.
"Is that so?"
Paige held her gaze.
"Yeah."
Azzi searched her face for a long moment, looking past the jealousy and the frustration and everything Paige had gotten wrong tonight.
And somehow, she still understood what Paige was trying to say.
Paige watched something soften in her expression.
God.
Paige loved her.
Somehow, that was always the hardest thing to explain.
None of this had ever really been about Olivia.
Olivia had just happened to be the person standing in the middle of it.
It was about the fact that Azzi was standing right in front of her, and Paige still couldn't believe she got to be the person who knew her this way.
Words suddenly felt too small for all of it.
She reached for Azzi's hand instead.
Azzi's fingers threaded through hers without hesitation.
Their eyes met.
Something softened between them.
"Let's get out of here."
Paige brushed her thumb across the back of Azzi's hand, giving her a knowing smile.
Azzi didn't argue. She just squeezed Paige's hand once before letting Paige lead her away from the noise.
They slipped quietly away from the crowd, leaving the music and laughter behind.
Their shoulders brushed as they walked down the hallway, their hands finding each other again without either of them thinking about it. Every glance, every brush of their fingers, every small smile only pulled the feeling tighter.
As soon as the hotel room door clicked shut behind them, Paige shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it onto the chair by the window.
The room was quiet except for the air conditioner humming. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow across the room.
Behind her, Azzi slipped off her heels.
Paige turned just in time to catch the smile she was trying, and failing, to hide.
"...What's so funny?"
Azzi bit down on her lip. "Nothing."
Paige gave her a flat look.
"Az."
That only made Azzi laugh harder.
"It's just..." She shook her head. "You."
"Me?"
"Being jealous."
Paige groaned immediately.
"I was not jealous."
"Of Olivia Miles, of all people," Azzi teased.
Paige pointed at her before dropping her keys onto the dresser.
"Okay, first of all—"
"It's kind of cute."
Paige only stared harder.
Azzi's smile widened.
"After all these years, you can still get yourself worked up over something like that."
She tilted her head.
"I mean it’s impressive."
"Bro."
Paige shoved her lightly.
"Come on. Leave me alone."
She started to look away, but Azzi wasn't finished.
"Want to know something else?"
Paige looked back suspiciously.
"Do I?"
Azzi caught one of Paige's fingers as she stepped closer, gently tugging her the last few inches.
"Yeah."
A pause.
"It's also kind of hot."
Paige's eyebrows lifted. "Really?" she asked, her voice dipping.
“Mhmhmm.”
Azzi closed the last few inches between them.
She smoothed the collar of Paige's shirt before sliding her hand to the back of Paige's neck.
“I love that you don’t want anyone to take what’s yours.”
The implication of it made Paige's blood pulse quicken beneath her skin.
Azzi was right here.
Always hers.
Paige grinned.
"You're right."
Her hand settled against Azzi's lower back, gathering a bit of the fabric of her dress in her fingers.
Azzi met her halfway without hesitation. Sometimes Paige thought Azzi could always get her right where she wanted her.
The backs of Azzi's knees met the mattress and she laughed softly into the kiss.
They came to a stop. Only then did Paige pull back just enough to meet her eyes, her thumb tracing slowly along Azzi's cheek.
"I love you so much," she murmured.
Before Azzi could answer, Paige kissed her again. This time it was slow and unhurried, lingering for a quiet moment before she finally drew back. Her hands slid from Azzi’s waist to rest lightly on her arms as she gently guided her to sit on the edge of the bed.
Now she was standing over her, Azzi looking up at her with that naturally pouty expression settled across her features.
“What are you gonna do now, Bueckers?”
A playful glint flicked in her eyes.
Paige held her gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“I’m going to show you that I know what I got.”
She paused, letting the words settle between them.
“How lucky I am.”
Azzi relaxed her shoulders, shifting herself up the bed and inching her knees apart ever so slightly. She was wearing a tight dress from the party, so Paige could see her lacy underwear with the movement.
Then Azzi spoke, making Paige’s eyes reluctantly tilt back upwards.
“Okay.”
Her voice stayed even.
“Then show me.”
Paige didn’t hesitate, pulling off her own dress shirt to give herself more room to maneuver.
Once free, she crawled onto the bed holding Azzi’s eyes, determined to communicate her intention.
When she reached her, she found the seam of Azzi’s dress across her thighs, and hiked it up to sit around her hips.
Azzi didn’t look away from her.
She stayed waiting.
Expectant.
So Paige hooked her hands around the black lace and pulled them off.
Azzi grinned.
“I should talk to other girls more often if it gets you like this.”
Paige gripped her thighs, pulling towards her in response.
“Don’t you dare,” she said, her eyes locked in on Azzi’s, her arms still wrapped around her knees.
Paige shifted from there to gently press kisses to the inside of her thighs as she guided them apart.
Paige paused, taking in the moment.
Not for the first time she thought that she could spend forever here.
And she could tell Azzi, who was still sitting propped up on her elbows, was thinking the same thing.
Paige turned her attention back to the sight before her. Azzi’s pussy dripping and probably throbbing from the lack of attention.
“Mine,” she whispered breathily.
She could be sure Azzi felt the sensation on her pussy when she dropped her head back, humming low.
Paige hadn’t expected her to respond, so when Azzi let out a whiny “Yeah,” Paige felt it deep inside of herself.
Suddenly Paige couldn't wait a second longer to put her mouth on Azzi.
Hers.
She licked into her with a hunger that was met with a satisfied moan from Azzi.
Paige was not in the mood to take it slow tonight. She wanted to make sure Azzi knew exactly who she belonged to.
Paige swirled her tongue around her hole before penetrating her a little.
Azzi squirmed, watching Paige with hooded eyes as Paige pushed into her more.
Paige moved her tongue around inside her until Azzi’s chest was moving up and down with rapid breaths. Paige felt the warmth pool low within her, pressing her legs together to feel the friction.
She moved her head up slightly, flattening her tongue from her hole to her clit as she went. Azzi finally let go as she let her elbows shift to her sides, arching her back.
Yes. That’s it.
Paige sucked on her clit. Azzi moaned louder.
Uninhibited.
Then she watched Azzi’s skin tighten over her abs as she sat herself up.
“Paige.”
Paige looked up at her. Reluctantly detaching her mouth from her.
“Yeah?”
“I am yours.”
“Only yours.”
Paige shuddered.
She reached out, grabbing Paige’s forearm, guiding her to where her mouth had just been.
“Show me please.”
Paige nodded, understanding.
“You want me to take what’s mine?”
Paige let her fingers lightly graze her inner thigh.
Right at the edge.
Azzi’s fingers twitched over hers.
“Please.”
Paige teased her entrance briefly with her fingertips before pushing inside easily.
Azzi whined, her head falling forward a little.
Paige shifted her body up so that she could catch the sound with her lips.
The kiss quickly turned sloppy, Azzi falling apart around the thrust of her fingers.
“Okay baby that’s it.”
“You’re mine. Show me, come for me baby,” Paige murmured as Azzi felt Azzi start to tighten, moving her thumb to massage her clit.
Azzi met her mouth messily again, grinding herself lower on her fingers and moaning into Paige’s mouth.
Paige slowed down the motion of her fingers as Azzi came out of it.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together.
"I love you," Azzi whispered.
"Yeah," she murmured. "I know."
She leaned in once more, stealing one last slow kiss before settling beside her. Azzi curled one leg against Paige’s without thinking, her head finding its familiar place beneath Paige's chin.
For a while, neither of them said anything.
Paige pressed a kiss into Azzi's hair and closed her eyes.
Azzi's breathing slowly settled into an easy rhythm beside her.
Whatever had been bothering her earlier felt impossibly far away now.
It always comes back to this.
To Azzi.
And, in the end, that was all that had ever mattered.
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summary: paige and azzi are smiling through it all can't believe this is their life!
slice-of-life or me rambling you decide! 🍰
3.2k
Paige is on top of the world.
Like, obnoxiously on top of the world. The sun shines brighter. The birds sing louder. The air clearer.
And she knows exactly why.
It has everything to do with the sleeping figure next to her, tangled in her sheets like she’s always belonged there.
Paige still can’t believe this is real life.
She’d known, technically. Of course she had. Azzi coming to Dallas wasn’t some last-minute surprise, it had been the plan for months. Paige had the inkling ever since last summer when the Wings kept losing. Every loss felt like confirmation, like the universe was slowly nudging things into place.
Still, knowing something is coming and actually living it are two very different things.
Because now Azzi is here. In her bed. They go to practice together and come home in the evenings, decompressing in that easy, familiar way that feels almost like old times, yet not quite. It’s different now, the beginnings of a new chapter in their life unfolding in small, ordinary moments that somehow feel anything but ordinary.
And Paige?
Paige is trying so hard to act normal about it.
She realizes waking up before dawn, staring at her girlfriend in the low light as she ponders how great everything is and smiling to herself like a psychopath, is the exact opposite of that.
It is honestly impressive how Paige is usually a lot better at the whole “controlled, composed, nothing-to-see-here” thing.
On the court? Locked in. Media? Smooth. Teammates? Mostly normal human behavior.
But here, in this quiet half-light where everything feels softer, she is completely and irreversibly cooked.
She shifts again on the edge of the bed, trying to look like she is doing literally anything other than what she is doing, which is, specifically, staring at Azzi like if she blinks she might miss it.
Azzi, meanwhile, is still asleep, hair a mess, a peaceful part of the quiet morning.
Paige presses her lips together.
This is fine. This is normal. People in healthy relationships do not get this weird about each other’s existence.
Except apparently they do, because Paige is currently sitting here thinking wow, I am so lucky like she personally invented gratitude.
Azzi shifts again, one eye cracking open.
“…why are you staring at me like that?” Her voice is rough with sleep. A fact that doesn’t help Paige’s current predicament.
Paige reacts so fast she nearly falls off the bed.
“‘M not- I wasn’t- I’m just thinking.”
Azzi hums, unconvinced, and rolls slightly onto her side to face her more fully. “About what?”
Paige hesitates.
That is the problem. The honest answer is too soft. Too big. Too embarrassing for 6:12 a.m.
So she goes with something safer.
“Basketball.”
Azzi’s eyebrows lift. “At 6 a.m.?”
“Strategy,” Paige quickly adds coolness in her tone. “You know me, I’m always clocked in.”
Azzi blinks at her for a second, then lets out a quiet, sleep-heavy laugh that immediately ruins Paige’s already fragile composure.
“Strategy,” Azzi repeats, dragging the word out like she’s testing how fake it sounds. “At dawn. In your bed.”
Paige sits up a little straighter, like posture alone can restore credibility. “Yes. Elite athletes think ahead. That’s literally-“
“Paige.”
“a known trait of winners.”
Azzi shifts closer, still half-asleep, resting her head against her hand as she watches her. There’s no urgency in her expression, just that calm, amused focus like she has all the time in the world to call her out.
“You’re lying,” she says simply.
Paige gasps. “I am not lying. I would never lie about basketball.”
Azzi hums again, unconvinced, then glances around the room like she’s searching for evidence. “So the staring was film study? Breaking down my sleep form? My recovery mechanics?”
Paige opens her mouth, closes it, then tries again. “Actually, yeah. I was evaluating, uh, rest efficiency.”
Azzi laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”
Paige feels the smile creep back onto her face at the sound. “Azzi you should know, as my teammate, that I take these matters very seriously.”
Azzi snorts, fully awake now.
“Your job description is getting out of hand,” she says, still smiling. “First it was ‘professional basketball player,’ now it’s ‘chief analyst of my sleep posture.’”
Paige shrugs. “I wear many hats.”
“Clearly.”
There’s a beat where Azzi just keeps looking at her, really looking, softer now under the teasing. The kind of look that makes Paige forget what she was defending in the first place.
Paige clears her throat. “Anyway. I wasn’t staring.”
Azzi raises an eyebrow again. “You were absolutely staring.”
“I was observing.”
“That’s staring with a press release.”
Paige lets out a reluctant laugh, shaking her head. “You’re insufferable in the morning.”
“And yet,” Azzi says, pushing herself up a little, “you chose to wake up like this and make it my problem.”
“Your problem?”
“Yeah,” Azzi says, matter-of-fact. “Now I have to deal with you doing… whatever this is.”
Paige gestures vaguely at herself. “Existing?”
“Dramatically existing,” Azzi corrects.
That gets a real laugh out of Paige this time, the tension in her shoulders finally loosening. “I’m not dramatic.”
Azzi looks at her for half a second. “You woke up at 6 a.m. to stare at me and call it ‘rest efficiency.’”
Paige opens her mouth, then shuts it again.
“…fair.”
Azzi’s smile softens at the edges. She shifts closer until there’s barely any space left between them, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Come here,” she says quietly.
Paige doesn’t even pretend to hesitate. She just goes, letting herself lean into her, letting the last bit of her earlier embarrassment dissolve somewhere between Azzi’s warmth and the steady rhythm of the morning.
They share the moment together letting the quiet drag on, because beneath it all Paige truly is grateful to have and share this with Azzi. After all these years Paige has the right to feel blessed.
After a few minutes of indulgence, Paige feels Azzi shift.
“Okay no more fake thinking about basketball, we do have practice.”
“Relax, it's a part of the process,” Paige rolls her eyes.
Azzi gives her a look. “Your process is staring at me at sunrise?”
Azzi laughs under her breath and swings her legs off the bed. “Emotionally optimized is crazy.”
Paige watches her for a second longer than necessary as Azzi pads around the room, already gathering things for practice like she’s been awake for hours instead of minutes. It’s annoyingly efficient. It’s also unfairly attractive in a way Paige doesn’t need to be thinking about right now.
Paige stays in bed for exactly three more seconds after Azzi stands up, like she’s trying to memorize the moment before it turns into the rest of the day.
Azzi, already halfway into practice mode, tosses a hoodie at her.
“Come on,” she says. “Unless you’re planning to explain your ‘emotionally optimized’ system to the coaching staff too.”
Paige catches the hoodie without looking away from her. “They’re not ready for my methods.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
That finally gets Paige moving. She swings her legs off the bed, still slower than necessary, and pulls the hoodie on. They slip into an easy routine, as the day starts to take shape around them.
True to her word, Paige and Azzi move differently as teammates. At practice they’re the picture of professionalism, even if Paige is positively giddy to have Azzi’s basketball talents back on the court with her. It comes with a sense of focus.
Paige wouldn’t have it any other way. Paige knows how much they both value the work they put in, and to do it together means more than anyone could know.
Practice wraps up in the afternoon, and after media and treatment Paige finally finds herself back in the locker room with Azzi as they make to head out.
A few lockers down, someone calls out something about dinner plans, and the room starts shifting into that end-of-day rhythm with people gathering things, peeling off tape. It’s the slow mental transition from work to everything else.
Azzi stands first, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “You ready?”
Paige looks up at her. There’s something about this exact moment. It’s the end of practice, the hum of the locker room, Azzi standing there like she belongs in every part of Paige’s day. It makes her brain lag behind reality for a second.
“Yeah,” Paige says, pushing herself up and grabbing her bag. “I’m ready.”
“Good because I’m starving,” Azzi complains.
Paige laughs. “Bro you literally just ate.”
“That was maintenance. Not a meal.”
Paige huffs a laugh, shaking her head as she slings her own bag over her shoulder. “You and your ‘maintenance’ logic is insane.”
Azzi doesn’t even look offended. “It’s called fuel management. Look it up.”
“I don’t need to look it up,” Paige says as they start walking out of the locker room side by side. “I’ve seen you eat an entire post-practice meal, a smoothie, and then ask what’s in the team snacks like ten minutes later.”
Azzi presses a hand to her chest like she’s wounded. “It’s called recovery.”
“That’s called you being hungry all the time.”
They bump shoulders as they exit the facility, the late afternoon air hitting them differently than the indoor lights.
Azzi stops walking just long enough to give Paige a look.
“It’s not ‘hungry all the time,’ it’s disciplined fueling,” she says, like she’s delivering a lecture.
Paige opens the car door with a grin. “You say that like it’s a science.”
“It is,” Azzi replies immediately, climbing in on the passenger side. “Sports science. You wouldn’t understand.”
Paige shuts her door and leans back in her seat, glancing over. “I literally live in sports science.”
“Yeah,” Azzi says, buckling her seatbelt. “And yet you still think skipping a post-practice snack is normal behavior.”
“I didn’t skip it,” Paige corrects, starting the car. “I just delayed it.”
“That’s skipping with extra steps.”
Paige laughs under her breath as she pulls out of the lot. The drive is familiar already, routes becoming routine in a way that still feels new enough to notice. Stoplights, turns, the slow drift of daylight stretching toward evening.
Azzi scrolls on her phone for a second, then looks up. “So what’s the actual plan tonight?”
Paige shrugs. “Food. Probably collapsing. Maybe arguing about whatever show we’re halfway through and forgot the plot of.”
Azzi hums thoughtfully. “We’re bad at finishing shows.”
“We’re good at starting them,” Paige shrugs.
Azzi shakes her head, but she’s smiling. A comfortable silence settles for a moment.
Then Azzi says, casually, “You were serious this morning, though.”
Paige glances over. “About what part? My elite rest analysis system?”
Azzi snorts. “No. About… this.”
Paige’s hands tighten slightly on the wheel, but her voice stays easy. “I’m always serious.”
“I know,” Azzi says, softer now. “That’s not what I mean.”
The car passes under a stretch of trees, light flickering across the windshield in slow pulses. Paige doesn’t rush to fill the space.
Finally she says, “Yeah. I was.”
They get out of the car at the same time, fall into step without thinking about it, and for a moment it’s just another end-of-day routine.
Except it isn’t.
Because when Azzi reaches for the door, she pauses just long enough to look back at Paige. The sunlight hits her eyes as she looks back at her.
“Hey,” she says.
“Yeah?”
Azzi tilts her head slightly, like she’s choosing the simplest version of what she wants to say.
“I’m glad I’m here.”
Paige doesn’t joke this time. Doesn’t turn it into something lighter than it is.
“Me too.”
Later that evening the sun is still out, but it’s beginning to set in a way that cools off what was a hot afternoon.
They walk side-by-side in a comfortable silence.
Azzi’s been a step off for the last block. Paige can practically hear the wheels turning in her head as she thinks about what she wants to say.
“Paige I really am so happy,” Azzi blurts out.
“Yeah?” Paige says, encouraging her to keep going.
“Yeah,” Azzi affirms. “But- I don’t know, I just worry sometimes. I know it’s not always going to be like this, and it’s a part of it being so new, and I know there are going to be things that will make it harder sometimes and I-” Azzi rambles.
Azzi keeps talking, words spilling a little faster now, like once she opened the door she can’t quite close it again.
“I just- I don’t know,” she says, staring down at the sidewalk as they walk. “I love these new routines, and how exciting it all is especially right now, but yeah.”
Paige slows her steps without stopping, matching Azzi’s pace instead of trying to pull ahead of it.
She doesn’t interrupt right away.
Azzi isn’t asking for a fix. She’s not even really asking a question yet. It’s just… all of it spilling out, the way it does when something feels too good to fully trust it.
Paige lets a beat pass before she speaks.
“Hey,” she says, softer. “Look at me.”
Azzi hesitates, then does. Her expression is open in a way she doesn’t always let people see.
“I get what you’re saying,” she starts. “Like, actually get it. Not just ‘yeah that makes sense’ get it. I mean it.”
Azzi’s jaw tightens slightly.
Paige notices, and her tone stays steady.
“But you’re kind of skipping a step,” she adds.
Azzi blinks. “What step?”
“The part where you assume we’re only allowed to be okay if it stays exactly like this,” Paige says. “Like this exact week, this exact version of everything, has to freeze or it doesn’t count.”
Azzi looks down again, quieter. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” Paige says immediately, no edge in it. “I’m not saying you meant it. I’m saying that’s what your brain is doing.”
That earns a small, reluctant exhale from Azzi. They keep walking.
Paige adjusts her grip on her bag strap, thinking for a second before continuing.
“Nothing stays the same,” she says. “Not this, not us, not anything in your life or mine. That’s kind of the deal.”
Azzi’s shoulders rise a fraction, like she’s about to agree with something uncomfortable.
Paige continues before she can spiral into it.
“But that doesn’t automatically mean it gets worse.”
Azzi looks over again, slower this time. “It could though.”
“Yeah,” Paige says simply. “It could.”
Then she adds, a little quieter, “But it could also get better in ways you can’t even picture right now.”
Azzi doesn’t respond immediately. The sidewalk stretches ahead of them, the light shifting warmer as the sun dips lower.
Then Azzi finally says, softer, “I don’t want to mess it up.”
Paige’s expression changes at that, not dramatically, just enough that her voice follows it.
“You’re not going to,” she says.
Azzi gives her a look like she wishes that sentence carried more guarantees.
Paige shrugs a little.
“I’m not saying nothing will ever be hard,” she adds. “I’m saying you don’t mess something up just by caring about it.”
Azzi’s eyes drop again, but she’s listening.
Paige nudges her shoulder lightly as they walk.
“And also,” she says, lighter now, “you’re kind of stuck with me.”
That gets it.
Azzi lets out a small laugh before she can stop it. “I’ve always been stuck with you.”
Then, after a beat, less joking now.
“And I know how this sounds,” she adds, eyes forward. “Like I’m freaking out. I’m not. It’s just… we’ve been waiting for this, and now it’s here, and that feels like a lot sometimes. It feels fragile if I look at it too directly it’ll… shift.”
Paige considers that for a moment, then shakes her head slightly. “It’s not fragile,” she says. “It’s just new.”
Azzi glances at her. “
And new things always feel like that at first,” Paige continues. “Like you’re supposed to hold them super carefully or they’ll break. But most of the time they’re not made of glass. They’re just… not used to existing yet.”
Azzi huffs a quiet breath, almost amused. “You’re really in your philosophical bag today.”
“I woke up at 6 a.m. emotionally optimized,” Paige says. “This is the consequence.”
That gets a real smile out of Azzi again, steadier this time.
A few more steps pass before Azzi speaks again, softer now.
“So you’re not worried?”
“I think worrying doesn’t really help me do anything better.”
Azzi gives her a look. “That sounds like a Paige dodge.”
“It’s not a dodge,” Paige says. “It’s just… I trust what we’re doing more than I trust my ability to predict every way it could go wrong.”
That quiets Azzi for a second.
Paige glances over at her.
“And I trust you,” she adds, like it’s obvious.
Azzi’s expression softens again, but she still looks a little overwhelmed by her own thoughts.
“I guess I just don’t want to lose the part where it feels like this,” she admits. “Even if it changes.”
Paige nods slowly. “Yeah. I get that.”
“But this is just our foundation. We’re gonna build on it.”
Azzi looks down at the sidewalk again.
“And also,” she adds, lighter again, “if you think I’m letting this turn into anything less than annoying amounts of happiness, you’re mistaken.”
Azzi lets out a real laugh now, shaking her head. “Annoying amounts of happiness?”
“Yeah,” Paige says. “I’m committed.”
They fall back into step without thinking about it. The sidewalk narrows slightly, trees arching overhead, the late-day light softening everything it touches.
Eventually Azzi says, “I don’t know how you do that. How you’re always so sure”
Paige glances at her. “Sure about what?”
Azzi gestures vaguely between them, like she doesn’t want to pin it down too hard. “This. Us. Everything. You always talk like you’ve already decided it’s going to be fine.”
Paige considers that, then looks forward again as they walk.
“I just know I love you, and go from there.”
“That is ridiculously sappy.”
“Yeah,” Paige says, shrugging a little as they keep walking. “I know.”
Paige wishes she was at least a little embarrassed about it, but Azzi has never made her feel anything less than blessed.
Azzi keeps her gaze forward, but her hand drifts closer to Paige’s until their fingers brush, hesitate, then settle together like it was always going to happen anyway. She doesn’t say anything right away. Paige doesn’t either.
The sun dips lower, painting the sidewalk in that soft orange that makes everything feel slightly unreal, like the world is buffering.
Azzi finally breaks the silence.
“Okay,” she says, exhaling like she’s conceding something to herself more than to Paige. “I think I get what you’re saying.”
Paige glances at her. “Only think?”
Azzi bumps her shoulder. “Don’t push it.”
That earns a small laugh from Paige. Azzi squeezes Paige’s hand once, then lets it rest there again.
“I’m still happy,” she says after a beat. “Just… in case my earlier overthinking made it sound like I wasn’t.”
Paige looks over at her then, fully.
“I know,” she says simply.
Then, softer, “Me too.”
Paige tilts her head slightly. “And I mean, statistically speaking, you’ve been happy like… ninety-eight percent of the time since you got here.”
Azzi side-eyes her. “You’ve added analytics now?”
Paige grins. “I’m an expert. You just have to accept it.”
“Unfortunately,” Azzi says, squeezing her hand again, “I think I’m contractually obligated at this point.”
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