both the killer and the final girl

You move to turn and see just how wasted she is, but she doesn’t budge one bit, leaning further into your back with her strong hands fiddling with the hem of your short top. The contact brings a flush to your cheeks, and you suddenly feel all too sober— especially under Dina’s knowing gaze. 

You pinch her arm and speak, “Abby you smell bad. How much have you had to drink?”

She doesn’t acknowledge your squirminess, and sighs in comfort like she’s just laid down under a soft blanket. Her low voice reverberates down your spine, “That’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“Well, it’s true. Where’s Ellie? Is she to blame?”

“We’re not friends anymore. She’s mean. She rigged the game— swearit.” 

Dina rolls her eyes and slides out of her seat, likely in search of her chaotic girlfriend. 

Abby stays unyielding in her absence, instead nosing at your neck, “Y’smell good.”

The contact kicks your poor heart into overdrive, and you drag her hands off of you like they burn. She reluctantly allows it and retreats, sending a chill down your spine with the absence of her warmth. 

You crane your head to face her and are met with her best kicked puppy look. Her eyes water slightly and god you did not know she was an emotional drunk. Your heart breaks a bit at her expression.

Tapping the empty spot at the table, you speak softly to her. “C’mon, wanna sit?”

She shakes her head no, and then her hands are back on your waist— manhandling you on your barstool to face her. Her eyes rake over your shocked, sitting figure, and you’re suddenly regretting your low-cut top for the way her gaze struggles to look away. 

“You’ve been ignoring me all night,” she mumbles, dragging her finger along the hem of your short skirt.

You’d worn it for her attention, of course, but now there’s so much that you’re stunned into silence. She’d never been this touchy before, even though your threshold for ‘too much’ was much higher than any normal friendship. 

At your silence, she meets your gaze, holding steady even in her inebriated state. The music lulls to white noise as she leans down, and for a second you think your dreams are really about to come true— then her forehead thumps onto your shoulder.

“I don’t feel good.” She whimpers into your cool skin.

You gather your sanity back together before bringing a hand to the back of her head and soothing her. She nuzzles into your neck again, and for someone who hates cats, she is really reminding you of one. 

You sigh. “Let’s get you to the bathroom.”

She’s surprisingly stable as you lead her through the pulsing crowd, something you’re endlessly grateful for. It is likely impossible you could support her full weight. 

Ushering her in, you exhale a grateful breath that it’s a single, and you lock the door with a click. 

You turn, and instead of being met with her puking her guts out, you’re crowded up against the door by her large frame. She leans down and her arm blocks you in, but she just stares, attentively, into you.

You squeak, “Y’okay Abs? I thought you were sick?”

Instead of responding, her eyebrows furrow and she looks around the room, muttering to herself. “Fuck. I can’t see you.”

Suddenly, you depart from the ground again, and you give a small kick in protest. She deposits your blushing body onto the marble countertop, and the warm vanity lights highlight her earnest expression. Her hands bracket your bare thighs, and you are helpless but to gape at her.

She opens her mouth to speak, before shaking her head and huffing at herself in frustration. You bring a hand up to her collarbone in a gesture that you hope is comforting, but her face contorts— as if in pain.

You retract, worried, but she grasps it in hers and brings it to rest on her heart. 

She finally pipes up, “Just– wait. Sorry, I’m tryin’ to be a gentleman.”

Your eyes meet, and she blurts out: “Wow, you’re pretty— d’you feel what you do to me?”

Her heart beats incessantly under your palm— you gulp, lost in her searching gaze. It feels too good to be true.

“A-Abby, you’re drunk—” You whisper.

She shushes you, “No. No– I’m not, well maybe a little. Jus-Just let me find the words.” She huffs out a laugh, “You make me so nervous.” 

You wait, and look at her so sweetly that her thoughts get all scrambled again. She mutters in whispers that don’t reach your ears, avoiding your gaze.

Gentle hands find the sides of her face, and you force her attention back to you. Your voice cracks a bit, “Abby. Don’t say what you’re going to say if you aren’t going to mean it tomorrow, please.” 

Her heart breaks right in two at your words. A hot tear rolls down your cheek, and she catches it, cradling your face. 

“Aren’t going to mean it? Sunshine, I’ve been crazy about you since I met you.” She professes. 

“Really?”

“Definitely. Ellie’s totally over it. Sh’ told me I had to drink every time I talked ‘bout you. ‘S not working out in my favor right now.”

Your soggy laugh jingles in her ears, and she melts like butter. She continues, “I’ll tell you every day, kay? You’re gonna be sick of me too.”

You look up at her bashfully, dizzy off emotion and the little bit that you indulged in yourself. “Kay.”

She leans into you with a newfound confidence, grinning so hard that her cheeks must be sore. Her breath passes over your glossed lips, “This ok? For sure?”

You surge up in a confession of your own.

The cracks in the pavement give way to valleys of clover you take care to avoid, and the stairs creak under your weight. The sound shocks you slightly, bringing you back to reality. On the porch, she brushes past you to fiddle with the door, mumbling apologies for the state of the house.

Your gaze drifts towards the two chairs situated side-by-side, one with a thick blanket draped over the side. Huh.

The screech of the screen door catches your attention, and she stumbles over her own threshold in her hurry to hold the door open for you. 

“W-Welcome in!” her lips quirk up in a half-smile, half-wince.  

You level her with a stare indicating that you’re not impressed but Alice takes the invitation in stride, leaving your side for the first time to bound into the house shamelessly. Moving to follow her, you step up into the doorway, but Abby’s huge frame doesn’t leave much room as she insists on holding the door. You brush chests with her in an attempt to weasel past, and the contact leaves you stunned in that very position— her big doe eyes boring into yours. 

As you begin to stutter out anything to say, you’re startled by Alice growling, and you run to follow the sound— Abby gaping and keeping the door open for no one. After a moment, loud footsteps follow yours. 

You round the corner in a panic, only to see Alice— ears back— growling at… a young boy? 

His eyes are wide, hands up in surrender, and you kneel to put your arms around Alice’s neck, soothing her with reaffirming coos. 

Abby’s voice comes from behind you, “Shit. I forgot about that.”

The boy stands in the same position, clearly spooked, and your heart aches. Alice is only mildly grumbly now, but they look at each other with equally concerned eyes. 

You speak, still holding onto her so the kid feels safe, “I’m so sorry, she’s scared of men— sorry—  boys.”

He puts his arms down and laughs shakily, “Well, that’s affirming.”

You look between Abby and the boy as she approaches his side, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. They share an awkward laugh and you feel as though you’re missing out on a joke. 

She hugs him from the side, towering over him, and speaks in a whisper you can barely make out, “Ya okay?”

He preens under her attention and nods bashfully.

“Attaboy.”

She then turns her attention to you and Alice, bending a knee on the cold tile to scratch Alice’s head, and her eyes soften even further. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think she… I thought she wouldn’t have that reaction. But I should’ve warned you.” 

She’s so genuine in her apology that it takes you off guard, your Abby could barely look you in the eyes when she spoke. But now, hers drill straight into yours like she’s offering a part of her soul. 

It’s all too vulnerable, and you need that pleading gaze off of you before you do anything stupid. You break eye contact harshly and scoff, “Yea, a little warning would have been nice! She could’ve hurt him, Abby!” 

And oh does it have the opposite effect. You’re defending her Lev— a boy you don’t even know the name of— who she nearly died for (and would do it hundred times over). Affection and hope tingle through her nerves, down to her fingertips, and she doesn’t know if you’ve ever been so beautiful, staring at her like she’s crazy. 

She gawks you like you’ve just come down from heaven itself, and you’re about to hurl more anger at her when a meek voice pipes up: “I-I’m okay! She was just scared.”

You turn to the boy, infinitely sorry— you always had a soft spot for frightened kids. “No, it shouldn’t have happened. And you…” 

“Lev”, he supplies. 

“And you, Lev, are very brave. I’m sorry that Abby’s an idiot who didn’t use her brain.”

He giggles and you smile. 

“Yea. She doesn’t do that much”, he adds. He smiles at you like you have a shared secret, and your chest warms.

She pipes up, “Hey!” before standing and turning her whole body to him, “I am sorry goober. She’s right, I wasn’t thinking.”  

Alice calms, so you stand from your position on the kitchen floor, before your forehead turns cold and your vision gets spotty. You wobble, and Abby is back in your space, her warm hands gripping onto your forearms. 

“Whoa. Let’s get you sat down,” she says. 

She leads you back over to the living room that you hurried past, and you have time to take it in as she fusses over tidying things up. The big, brown couch is the centerpiece, nearly taking over half the room. It looks invitingly comfy in your tired state, but Abby rushes about to fold discarded blankets and to jam a slip of paper in a half-open book, setting it gently on the side table. 

She sits and pats the seat next to her, urging you the couple feet further. Holding her hands up like a peace offering, you take them as she gently guides you to perch on the seat, careful you don’t lean back as you sink into the leather. 

Alice waltzes past Lev to jump up on your other side and rest her head on your thighs. Her tail wags contently. Lev watches from the threshold, amazed.

“What’s wrong with her?” he asks. 

Abby states kindly, “She’s got a big cut on her back bud, we’ve gotta be careful.”

“Oh, okay.” He addresses you, “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, “Only a little. You’ve got pretty good doctors here, they stitched me right up.” 

He winces a little at the word stitch and you feel bad all over again. 

You make an attempt to mend your error, noticing the way his eyes keep drifting curiously to Alice. “It’s okay, wanna come say hi?”

He nods and you add, “Just be slow. You’re fine.”

Your sweet tone calms even her nerves, but Abby still watches like a hawk as he takes tentative steps towards the couch, not wanting anything more to happen to either of you. Once he’s close, he takes care to sit next to Alice gently, marveling at the way her tail thumps steadily against his leg. 

His hands stay firmly clasped in his lap, but he watches her every move with a small smile. None of you speak, and Abby wraps her arm around your back as you sag, careful of your wound. Her hand squeezes your hip and you let yourself relax. 

You begin to drift off, shoulder pushing further and further into her warmth like the tide returning to the shore. Abby doesn’t want to break the moment for anything, knowing your return to consciousness means a rebuilding of your walls, but caring for your wound gnaws at the back of her brain. 

She squeezes your hip a bit, and you blink back awake, slowly sitting straight again— she feels your residual heat on her chest like a brand. 

Murmuring sweetly, she says, “Hey, we’ve gotta change your dressings.”

You sigh and stand— slower this time— as she carefully leads you to the staircase. There’s a couple times where her hand hovers like it’s magnetized to touch you, before she holds herself back. The stairs are even scarier for her, and she follows you so closely up that she nearly trips you by accident. You don’t have the strength to be annoyed. There’s three doors upstairs, and she opens the first one to what you can only assume is her room.

Dusk casts unabashed golden rays through her big glass windows, and the breeze flowing in causes your hair to tickle your cheek. Her room itself is very minimal, the only decoration being stacks of books piled up along the edges. Soft, butter colored curtains dance in the breeze, with a big, comfy bed situated right in the middle. 

Only, one side of it has a comical amount of pillows piled up— while the other has just one. 

You remark, “No guest bedroom?”

“No, not unless you wanna room with Lev,” she sounds like she’s holding back a laugh, “He’s moving into his teenager phase. Wants his own space.”

“He’s a cute kid.” You move further into the room, taking in all the details. She’s got glasses on her nightstand. 

“Don’t tell him that. He wants to be tough— and he is— but he’s also pretty cute.” 

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, “How did you… um, get to know each other?”

Her sigh comes from somewhere deep within herself, “That’s a story for another time.”

She leads you to sit down on the bed. “Wait here.”

You’re helpless but to watch as she floats out of the room, padding gently around the house before returning with an armful of gauze and bandages. She drops them unceremoniously on the bed, gaze flitting at and away from you awkwardly— like she can’t find the right words. Oh, right, you’d have to take your shirt off. 

You glance towards the doorway as blush creeps up your neck, and you’re met with two pairs of big, brown eyes staring back at you. Abby follows your line of sight and scrambles to close the door.

“Privacy please!” You can hear the embarrassment in her voice, even as she’s turned away from you.

She closes it after ushering Alice in and Lev out— and there’s a small reprieve of silence before you hear a muffled, “ooooh” through the door. 

“Not like that!” She squeaks. It’s all so silly, and you can’t help the laugh that escapes.

Her head whips around to you like the sound speaks only to her, and she breaks out in an unabashed toothy, boyish grin as she returns to your side. “Never should’ve shown him movies and TV, it’s all rotted his brain.”

You share a steady look, eyes filled with mirth, before the awkward quiet that comes with being alone sets in. The soft ruffling of pages in the wind suddenly seems as loud as sirens.

She clears her throat and speaks softly, “Is it okay if I . . . help you?”

“Not like I can do it,” you huff. 

Her fingers twitch and she can’t meet the steely glint in your eye. She fumbles, “Well.. um… can you, you know?”

You decide she deserves some sass, “What? Strip?”

She gasps like the breath was punched out of her and glows bright red— and you cannot believe your eyes. She’s standing in front of you about 100 pounds heavier from pure muscle and she is blushing even harder than when you were both 15. 

You gawk, “Oh my god Abby, you cannot expect me to believe you’ve been doing god-knows-what with all the women on this base and are still flustered at the prospect of seeing some girl’s boobs.”

“They are not some girl’s— What?, what’s that supposed to mean? I-I would never,” she rebukes, her eyes darkening. 

What started off as a spiteful jab turns you back down the familiar path towards anger. She walks around looking like that and expects you to believe her?

“Don’t lie to me for the sake of my feelings. That is cruel, Abby. You think all I did for those four years was mope about how you left me?” You did, but she didn’t need to know that.

Her gaze turns hard and confident as she grasps your hands in hers, like she wants you to commit her words to memory. She’s so close, towering over your sitting form— physically shutting out the rest of the world. 

She takes a breath before speaking, “No, I don’t think that. God, I hope above everything it isn’t true. But I do need you to know that’s what I did.” 

She kneels before you, like she’s confessing her sins. You’re shocked silent as her thumbs caress your intertwined palms. 

“I left, I fucked up. I went on an idiotic rampage for revenge and it left me only feeling hollower than when I lost him. But, I found Lev— and he didn’t have anyone else and I’m so glad now, but it was so hard. Harder knowing that I’d left you out there somewhere.”

She stands back up before continuing. “I know I fucked up— I know more than anyone. But don’t you dare say I was off with some other girl when I was thinking of getting you back every damn second. You understand?”

You’re completely stunned, and all you can do is nod shakily. The bird flutter of your heart nearly takes off beneath your ribcage.

“Alright, now take off my shirt.” 

—

The next few days are marked with a distinct awkwardness. Any place you put Abby’s confession in your head just ends up followed closely by anxiety. You (slightly) give up on constantly giving her shit, out of fear she’ll say something else devastating to your heartrate. 

Lev ends up taking a distinct liking to you, if only for the fact he wants to spend time with Alice and find new ways to mess with Abby. With the strictest nurse in the world, there’s only so much you can do to pass the time. 

To Abby’s chagrin, Lev ends up the good cop to her bad. He sneaks you out into the yard on multiple occasions, watching Alice run in circles and chase bugs while Abby’s out. Even as the sun saps your energy, seeing them scamper around without checking for monsters in the shadows fills you with a dangerous bubbling of hope. You spend many of these days dozing off on the back porch, a lullaby of cicadas and laughter, only to be electrocuted awake by the sound of the front door opening. 

It’s the worst kept secret in the world, but you shuffle back in anyways, shushing each other with the scent of grass clinging to your skin. 

Abby knows, of course she knows. But, you come in every night smelling like sunshine and she always finds a forgotten, rumpled blanket that's begun to smell like you on the back porch— so she acquiesces on this one matter. 

She’s not sure what to make of her relationship with you. The daily dressing and occasional bathing never gets less awkward, but every moment you’re alone is like bottled lightning. She’s confident she could map the location of every mole on your back, but the sight of your bare skin still sends her reeling. It's an addiction, she constantly craves more. 

Still, she’s noticeably happier than she’s ever been. She’d deal with some awkwardness forever if it meant she went to bed every night feeling this giddy. 

Some moments play in her mind on repeat. There’s a morning she wakes after you, panicked, before the fire is instantly snuffed out by the smell of baking and melodic singing. Evidently, you and Lev had found one of her cheesy (and not well hidden enough) tapes, prancing around the kitchen barefoot and singing into spoons.

The sight is burned into her head forever. Your hair had fallen slightly from whatever fancy style you’d put it in the night before, and her boxer shorts were rolled up, leaving the hem devastatingly high. Lev looks at you cautiously before you grab his hand and spin him, chirping happily, “C’mon! You’re not too manly to sing Whitney Houston with me!”

She’d been standing in the doorway to your little dance party unnoticed, but his eyes shyly peek at her— she nods as if to say ‘go on.’ He begins to sing the tune back to you, even making use of the spoon, and he fumbles with nearly all the lyrics but it doesn’t matter. He looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, the house smells like sugar, and it feels like a family. 

This morning, you’d slept in way past the clucking of the roosters, and she keeps peeking back at the stairs in the hope you’ll magically appear on them. Lev notices. Alice is sat next to him on the couch, still a bit wary. 

“Why don’t you tell her you love her?” he states plainly. 

The muscles in her body tense, but she tries to be honest anyways. “It’s complicated, bud. I think telling her that might hurt her.”

“I don’t think so. I know she loves you too, so it definitely won’t hurt her. It’s not very complicated, really.”

She huffs, and wishes it was that easy, “You don’t understand, Lev. I did a bad thing to her.”

His eyebrows furrow and he speaks, “You do bad things all the time, you leave your dirty socks literally everywhere.”

She laughs, loud and from her belly. Alice perks up.

Still, she continues, “I don’t know. I think she’s still pretty mad at me. You guys are mean to me constantly, I mean you’re a complete sellout, goober.”

“I’m mean to you, but I still love you. I think it’s like that,” he says, blush rising to his cheeks at her words. 

Silence follows, and Alice becomes once again disinterested in the conversation. Only, she puts her head back down— right on Lev’s lap. He freezes and brightens like Christmas came early. She whines sadly, staring up at him, his hand tentatively coming down to pet her.

Abby is stunned, moving quietly into action. She needs to show you this, to share the fireworks in her chest with you immediately. To see if it gives you the same ideas it gives her. 

She pads up the stairs, hoping her noise and jitters hasn’t swayed Alice’s interest. She creaks open your door, and—

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she blurts. 

You freeze, bandage in hand, dropping it like a murder weapon. 

“I-I’m sorry I just thought—” you stutter. Her rapidly approaching form stuns you into silence. 

She holds out her hand expectantly, “Give it to me.”

You plead, “I can do it myself Abs, you aren’t always going to be around.” 

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, a revealing of your inner insecurities: you aren’t always going to be around. Her throat closes around her guilt. She signals you to turn around, and you do. A puppet on strings for her, it’s so trusting that her eyes begin to sting. 

Nimble hands undo the shoddy job you’ve done so far, and she reverently begins to wrap it back around. The silence is killing you.

“Be gentle,” you murmur.

Her voice wobbles back, “Like I could be anything but gentle with you.”

Every scratch of the bandage feels like a promise etched into your skin, and as she tapes the end in place, you can’t bring yourself to face her. The heated skin of her forehead graces the exposed back of your neck. You’re speechless as tears wet your skin. 

“I’m sorry love, I’m so so sorry. I won’t leave, never ever again.” She punctuates her confession with a soft kiss on your exposed shoulder.

You turn, and cradle her strong jaw with shaking hands. Her pupils are completely blown under your attention, holding your gaze like she’s starving for it. Her unshed tears sparkle in the evening light.

You start, “I waited for you every day, Abs. I thought I would die there waiting for you. I believed you’d forgotten all about me.”

She brings a hand up over yours and clasps the top of it, guiding your open palm over her heart. “I’ve never wanted anything more than I’ve wanted a life with you. Revenge got in the way. But that’s still true, I’m nothing without you.”

“You promise you won’t leave again? No matter what happens?” you ask. 

“I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. If you’ll have me.”

She leans in, and breathes out against your lips, “Please stay.”

Your lips meet, and it tastes like home. The breeze still floats through the butter yellow curtains, the sun still shines through the windows, both sides of the bed are unmade, Abby Anderson smells like pine— and she’ll always be yours.

a/n: sorry this took so long guys!! it ended up being a lot longer than i anticipated but i hope you like it! i'd love to write more in this cutie little universe and for any other abby ideas so please request away! xoxo

Her barking only sounds muffled to your fading consciousness, and your body only has the strength to dig your fingers into the dirt. There’s no telling how much time goes by as you hear continued barking and commotion from behind your head, all you can hope for is that they don’t hurt her. You’re paralyzed from exhaustion as it goes quiet, tears cooling your heated cheeks as they become dewdrops on the blades of grass. 

Your heart doubles its speed as you feel a familiar nudge on your shoulder, your ears ringing. A pair of boots runs up to your near lifeless body, and you power through the blurry brushstrokes that paint the picture before you. Her face moves fast towards yours as you can only focus on one detail at a time, echoes of tenderness as her hands cradle your face. Freckled cheeks, evergreen eyes, permanently pinched eyebrows— you let your strength exhale like a breath and all goes black.  

— 4 years earlier

Your moments with Abby haunt you in vignettes of scraped knees, crunching snow, and bashful smirks that left the sound of reprimands far-away. 

You two had been close for as long as you could remember, constantly getting in trouble and sneaking around to the chagrin of every firefly assigned to watch you. Alice had been her idea, a gift celebrating two years after you’d shown up in Salt Lake City, afraid and without family. Abby had heard wind of a puppy too aggressive and uncooperative with men to be trained for patrol, and never told you what she had bartered to scoop Alice up then and there. She also took the primary role in training her— after your demonstrated difficulty in withholding any treats— and you raised her together. After countless days of running around, every time you’d all three end up in one pile on Abby’s bunk— yours remaining untouched. 

As you grew, so did the awkwardness of realizing that no other best friends acted the way you and Abby did. At some point, you knew that your feelings for her were beyond platonic— dreading the day she’d stop holding your hand and keeping extra blankets for you at the foot of her bed. You struggled to fit in, and spent most of your time helping Jerry in the hospital as an excuse to escape the pressure of socialising. Alice helped with keeping the boys away (apart from Jerry, who she tolerated), and part of you waited and waited for the other shoe to finally drop and for your closeness to dwindle.

 Even through the confusing haze of hormones and teenage social hierarchies, she stuck to you like glue. When rumors and judgements flitted between the thin walls, she held on tighter where you shied away. She felt proud of her biting words and harsh repercussions if it meant she was protecting the little bubble you had built for yourselves. Even as friendly affection became blistering sparks too exciting to ignite, every night ended the same. Under the veil of silent halls, she found herself sneaking onto her floor while you perched on the bed, silent as your hands gently weaved strands of her hair into a pattern nobody else knew you’d left. 

Spring brings you face-to-face with the culmination of your feelings. When Abby asked you to sneak out with her like a confession, you were helpless but to follow. The clearing was beautiful: bugs hurried about under the necessary shade of bright green grass, running water tickled your ears, and the combined heat of the sun and Abby’s gaze left a pleasant hum under your skin. Alice was huffing and failing to chase butterflies, while the weight of your laughter swayed you into Abby’s side. Without the burden of curious stares, you gravitated into her like a magnet. 

Her arm felt solid and sure as it wrapped around you, pulling you closer into her orbit. You share a wondrous look, like you’re both shocked at the movements of your own body. The color of her eyes is constantly shifting in the light, green leaves floating in pools of amber. A new, almost white tank top is stretched across her chest; a distracting new development in her sense of wardrobe that leaves freckles and slight scars— from Alice’s short lived but mighty teething period— unobscured from your watchful eye. You had carefully braided her hair this morning “for good luck” and you’re sick with affection, mapping all of the small imprints of you she wears with pride, down to letting your dog use her as a chew toy. 

Her hand raised in trepidation, pausing in its flight path toward your face. You both glance at her trembling digits, and you’re near bursting with it as you grab her heated cheeks and press your mouth to hers. It’s clumsy, you’re both too excited to worry about technique, and it's also perfect. 

And then, the heat of the day broke. 

Someone had come, yelling, screaming Abby’s name— they ushered her back to base faster than you could keep up, and you knew that something was wrong. Carnage greeted your every step, your stomach lurching at the endless walls of white stained with red. The sirens numb your ears, and you’re pulled into a safe room by faces you don’t recognize, fighting them off in defense of something you only just got. 

Later, in between endless worrying and safety protocols, she steps back into her room— and you’re waiting to catch her. You hold her hands to stop them from shaking, wanting so badly to fix it for her when you know yourself that nothing can. The dawn breaks and your knees ache, but you hold onto her tighter— worried at the meaning of the faraway look in her eyes. The sun shines in on her dorm, and she continues to stare past the horizon. 

The next few days are marked with pleading. You had found her backpack, under her bed, filled to the brim. You knew deep inside that nothing— and nobody— could stop her. No matter how hard you tried, every day she slipped further from your grasp until she was gone. 

You’d been stirred by quiet movement, rustling breaking the silence that only fell over the hospital in the dead of night— and you knew. She slipped like water through your desperate grip, and you only made her promise one thing: that she’d come back to you. No matter how long it took.

More and more fireflies moved on from Salt Lake City, unable to rebuild what was broken. You stayed until even your hope felt like it rose out of your chest and left. 

—

The first sensation that comes back to you is the nauseating smell of antiseptic. You try to fight the fog in your brain, and attempt to twitch your fingers, a familiar softness under them: Alice. It all starts coming back to you, if Alice is here then— you rip your eyes open. There she is, your Abby—openly staring at you. She sits unmoving in her seemingly uncomfortable chair, like any movement will make the moment disappear. 

She’d changed a lot in your years apart. Stringy and clumsy 19-year-old arms had been replaced by tense corded muscle, and your eye follows the stream of a vein down to her weathered hands squeezing the hard plastic armrest. There’s something rust colored stuck under her nails, like she hadn’t had time to properly wash them. Something traitorous flutters in your belly as you notice the way her legs spread, so much new muscle there that you doubt she could cross them even if she wanted. You tear your gaze away before any other dangerous thoughts can take root, and follow a path of unfamiliar freckles back to her vulnerable eyes. 

Her hair is longer now, but still in a singular braid that flows over her firmed shoulder. Has someone else done it for her? Something hot burns in your stomach, and you can’t help the fire that claws its way up your throat.

“Just my luck,” you mutter. Your voice is hoarse, throat dry like a punishment for your biting tone.

Alice’s ears perk up at the broken silence, and she shuffles up to lick your face. It’s hard to keep up your stern facade as she does, salty tears mixed with her slobber. You’d been so worried about her.

Abby’s stolen breath is further taken from her. You’re a complete image even in your battered state, delicate hands carding their way through coarse fur. She’s convinced she’s dreaming as the toothiness of your smile matches the twinkling of your tears, even more dazzling than she remembers. She wants your sweet gaze on her so bad her ribs vibrate with it. 

Your melodic giggles dwindle, and she realizes the only thing she’s done is stare at you— silent and unmoving— like a creep. Your watery gaze meets hers again, unsure, and any words she was scrambling to think up blow away like sand in the wind. 

You begin to move from your side to your back, needing an excuse to get away from the magnetism of her eyes on yours. At the small shift, she bounds out of her chair like it's on fire and grips your shoulder with her strong hand, her thumb caressing your skin— an unconscious apology for her worried harshness. 

Up this close, you’ve failed spectacularly at your mission of creating distance. She smells like pine and her warm palm leaves goosebumps all down your arms. 

“You shouldn’t lay on it. Doctor’s orders.” She speaks so softly it takes you a second to process her words.

“Doctor’s orders or your orders?”

“Well, considering the huge wound, I don’t think many would recommend it.” She gets snarky at the end, but her eyebrows reveal her worry. She removes her hand, but drags it down your arm like it hurts to let go. 

“Oh right, that.” Flashes of glass, blood, and running come back to you. Your lips quirk into a frown as you look away.

She whispers like your pain hurts her too, “Yea, that.”

“Is it bad?”

“Yea… yea it’s pretty bad.” She crosses her arms and they bulge in a way that is very distracting. Your face heats— this is so not the time. 

“Where am I?” you ask. 

She splutters and the worry finally leaves her expression, “Y-you weren’t looking for me?”

Your eyebrows furrow and her chest squeezes again. “No?... I thought we agreed you were the one who was going to come back and find me.”

Her body winces like you’ve hit her, her expression confused for a minute before bleeding into anger. “You just waltzed up to a huge, heavily armed base? Are you crazy? You could’ve been killed!”

“Well, I was doing a just fine job of that myself.”

Alice whines in protest of your raised voices, and the fight leaves Abby’s body immediately at your words. She lays a hand easily on Alice’s head, and Alice— the complete traitor— leans in so much she nearly falls off the makeshift hospital bed. You huff, and silence falls over the room again. 

“She bit the heck out of a guy I go on patrols with, Owen— he needed stitches. Never got her to be nicer to guys, did you?” She asks. 

Alice lolls her tongue out like she’s proud of herself. You smile at her and Abby can’t tear her eyes away.

“Never saw a reason for that. She’s a good girl.” 

She melts like ice cream in the sun. “She is. The best.” 

Another tense silence follows, and she jumps a bit, “Oh! Um.. this is the WLF base, meaning Washington Liberation Front– of course…” She awkwardly gestures to the bare room. “This is medical… Nora, our doctor, she patched you up pretty well.”

You hum. “When am I good to leave?”

“L-leave? Your back is basically hanging open and you’re just ready to leave?”

Your eyes narrow, remembering your anger, “Well, I just figured you wouldn’t want me hanging around when you’re so busy with your new life.”

That one hurt her. Her hand recedes and Alice protests. You’re tense all over, ready for a fight that never comes. She looks behind her, outside the observation window there’s a woman standing with her arms crossed. 

“Nora’s going to check you out then you’re coming with me, okay?” she speaks softly, it only makes you angrier. 

You bristle, “With you? And where would that be?”

Her thumb finds the vexed crease between your eyebrows, smoothing it like you’re putty for her to mold. She leaves a tender kiss on your forehead, stunning you with her proximity and tenderness.

“My house. My place— whatever you want to call it. You’re staying there, I’m taking care of you— end of discussion.” 

She turns to open the door, and you’re still left bewildered. Her movement shocks you back into action.

“W-where’s my say?” you ask. 

She opens the heavy metal door and it clicks shut with a finality. Abby crosses her arms and approaches the woman— Nora.  “Hey!” you yell, but neither of their heads turn.

+*:ꔫ

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this part and the second one is coming soon!

When Georgia had first approached you to be her canvas for her very first tattoo on real skin, you had immediately agreed- your haste chalked up to a trust built on years of friendship and definitely not the fact you’d do anything she asked. 

What your sometimes scatterbrained best friend had forgotten to mention was that this was not a private affair, but a moment that was going to be televised for all the nation to see. Of course, this meant that you’d have to act like you weren’t completely smitten with the woman-  in front of a bunch of cameras while you tried to not blush at her hands on you. 

Safe to say, you were quite ticked off with Georgia when you first arrived at the small tattoo studio’s address, only to be greeted with people rushing filming equipment inside the building from a van with a big ‘BBC’ plastered on the side. When you entered the studio with a quirked eyebrow and crossed arms, her face clearly dropped as she realized her mistake, rushing over to your side. 

“I completely forgot to mention the filming part, didn’t I?” She pouts at you, grabbing a hold of your bicep to plead her case.

You sighed, “You know, I really thought this was a sweet gesture of trust between us, not to get you a big check from the BBC.”

At your jest, she deflated even further and you struggled to stop your lips from quirking up at her dramatics. You could never stay mad at her for very long, especially when she made you laugh just by being in the same room as her. Still, you were a bit mortified at the possible outing of your feelings for the girl being broadcast to the world, so you tried your best to hold your ground. 

“It’s not like that at all! You know there’s nobody else I’d rather share this with, I swear!” She held onto your biceps tightly, and you felt your resolve washing away like a sand castle with the wave of her cologne that hit your nose. 

Her hands were trembling lightly, and at her gaze and proximity you quickly turned shy, only managing to mumble out, “You don’t mind sharing it with everyone in the nation, clearly.” 

However, taking pity on her already clearly fried nerves, you followed the snark up with a playful eye roll and returned her gaze. “Well, since I’m here, let’s see what you’re going to put on my body forever.” 

Her already big brown eyes seemed to light up at your compliance, and she gently pulled on your forearms to uncross them with a blinding smile. She effortlessly initiated the intertwining of your hands, nearly dragging your shocked form to the ground with her fervor to show you what she had drawn. 

She got shy as you both approached her already prepped little work table, going quiet as you peered down at the paper and leaning into your body for comfort. The warmth that spread through your body at your still entwined hands creeped all the way up to your ears at what she had designed just for you: a little broken flower vase. 

When you two had first met as kids, Georgia, persistent to impress you with her football skills- had wrongly decided to do so inside your house. When this naturally ended in the broken heirloom, and your mother’s harsh scolding, you had taken the fall for the overexcitable girl. She had been inconsolable at the mess she had caused, promising to make up for it someday. To this day, she still felt guilty for the incident while you often brought it up, joking that she was only still by your side to repay her debt. 

Through all the growing pains and hard times, you had stuck by each other’s sides. Even when you got into fights, one of you would always bring up the vase as an olive branch, knowing that it really meant that you could never get rid of one another. 

Your eyes got misty, your heartbeat in your ears drowning out the hustle and bustle around you two, “Georgia, that’s so sweet- you sap.”

“You really like it? Don’t lie.” Her hand nervously fiddled with the rings that adorned yours, both of you refusing to meet each other’s eyes. In a moment of bravery, you pecked her on the cheek and rested your head on her slightly taller shoulder. 

“I love it. Can’t wait to have it on me forever.” You punctuated the genuine words with a squeeze to your intertwined hands, hoping to calm her nerves with the action. 

She stumbled a bit over her sentence, before forcing it out nearly too fast for you to catch it, “There’s three flowers on one side and then one on the other. Y’know like 31, like my number at Bayern.”

Your head jumped off your shoulder, gaping at her as she was locked in a staring contest with the table- cheeks red like she had just played a full 90. With your heartbeat nearly breaking at the confines of your ribcage, you decided to lean into the moment, tripping over your words a bit but whispering. “That’s perfect. I like it even more now.”

At your reassurance, she shyly met your sincere gaze, struggling to keep a goofy smile subdued as you nodded at each other.

Your little bubble was broken when a crew member called for her presence, apologizing for interrupting as he dragged her over for an interview. You watched on with hearts in your eyes as she spoke to the camera, her sincere appreciation for the art shining through with every word and the sparkle in her eye. Caught up in watching her, you barely realized when they had wrapped up, rushing over to her side after missing your name being called a couple times.  

They perched you up on a stool for her to place the stencil on your calf, sighing in relief as it peeled off exactly as she wanted it. She gently held your hand to help you down, using it to guide you over to the table while instructing you to lay down comfortably.

When she actually starts dancing the needle over your skin and attempting to answer questions at the same time, she clearly struggles. Nearly every time she punctures your flesh, she can’t help but look to you for your reaction- scared to hurt you. You try not to laugh as her sentences trail off again and again as she continually locks eyes with you, knowing she’s going to make the editor’s job a nightmare. As she nears finishing, you try to shoot her encouraging smiles, wishing you could tell her how good she was doing if not for the mics that would pick it up. 

The tattoo takes quite long for how simple the design is, partly due to her insistence on doing everything right, stopping for the littlest things. It’s sweet that she’s so adamant to not hurt you or have the ink blow out, but it’s pretty comical and clear that the camera crew is getting antsy. You are happy to sit for as long as she needs, content with the heat of her palm through her gloves soothing the ache of the needle, but try to silently encourage her in order to get everyone out on time. 

As she takes the final swipe of a paper towel over your skin and declares that she’s finished with a shaky breath, the first thing she does is to once again look at you. She visibly relaxes as you send her a beaming smile, taking your hands to move you to sit upright. You admire her work as she turns to give you her water bottle, watching you like a hawk as you take a sip.

You get shy at her attention, “I’m not going to pass out you know, I’m literally covered in tattoos already.”

“You’re really feeling alright? We can take pictures after you have a second, yeah?” 

“Georgia really, you look much more lightheaded than me. You did great, I promise.” As you try to scoot off the bench, her hands stop you- pinning your thighs to the table. The position forces her to lean closer to you, putting you at eye level with one another. She has a certain determination in her eyes, but is clearly quite mortified at the proximity her actions have caused.

Still, with her big brown eyes boring into yours, slightly rough palms on your naked thighs, and the slight dizziness that you do feel- you look around the room to see everyone busy packing up before you do something drastic. As you turn back to her soft gaze, a slight tilt to her head and a quick glance at your lips is all the encouragement you need. 

Your hands cover hers, desperate for something to ground you as you lean in to peck her lips. At your slight movement, she excitedly surges forward and you clash much harder than you had expected. 

Pulling away, you’re both reduced to hysterics at the release of the tension that the day caused, and for finally giving in to a moment to had both waited for all your lives. Who knew it would take her marking you forever for you both to make a move.

a/n: wow so sorry I have not uploaded in forever! midterms absolutely kicked my butt and then I was celebrating my birthday! anyways I'm not super happy with this but I hope yall enjoyed <3

Even worse than the dull ache of your abdomen was having to leave the warm cocoon your girlfriend had created around you while you both slept. Propping yourself up on one elbow from where you had been laid on her chest, you tried to jostle her sleeping form as little as possible. At the slight adjustment, she let out a series of angry grumbles, your body freezing up at the sound. 

You waited for a tense moment, subconsciously holding your breath as the crease between her eyebrows softened back out and her hands relaxed where they had been touching your naked waist. Peeling her arms off your body carefully, you took care to watch that her even breath didn’t change as you manhandled her enough to let you escape unnoticed. Watching her calm expression, golden hair splayed out manically around her, you felt a flash of frustration at the time with your girlfriend that biology had robbed you of this morning. 

Slipping out of bed, the change of temperature nipped at your exposed skin, clad in only a bralette and small shorts so as to not burn up next to your personal space heater. Desperate to return to your koala of a girlfriend and the affection you had been promised for the day off, you opted out of a sweatshirt and briskly padded over to your adjacent bathroom. What you hadn’t accounted for was the lightheadedness that accompanied the action, and as black spots danced in your vision, you grabbed onto the cold counter for support as you guided yourself down to the floor.

Anticipating passing out, you were surprised at the familiar, tender caress of Leah’s hands on your arms. Her touch helped ground you, and as your vision cleared it was to the sight of her crouched over you, looking terribly worried. Her next words were so gentle you nearly missed them, not wanting to spook you. “Hey love, you back with me?”

You slowly nodded your head, not wanting to be any dizzier, and let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, I’m sorry I woke you Lee, just stood up too fast and got a head rush.” 

Usually being the one to coo over her and adoring taking care of the girl, you always hated making her worry. On many occasions, if Leah thought there was anything slightly off with you, she would drop anything and everything to dote over you- usually meaning that her dignity was the first to go. You were constantly teased for her actions when that side of her came out at training, quick to blush at your teammates’ poor caricatures of your girlfriend’s sappiness. 

Truth be told, you still got nervous butterflies when your girlfriend’s full attention was on you, even with nobody else around. However, you had both agreed to a time where you needed extra attention- your period. Leah, also dealing with debilitating cramps and other side effects of her endometriosis, knew what you needed and was quick to drop anything for you the same way you had done countless times for her. 

Her eyes flitted around your body, like she was looking for what was troubling you. Normally she knew when your period was going to come before you even did, but for it to come at this time was highly unusual. “What’s wrong honey?”

“I think I’ve got my period. I wanted to just deal with it and go back to bed.” You sighed, eyes welling up a bit at the embarrassment of having to be rescued from the bathroom floor and the frustration of it having to deal with it when you weren’t due for another week.

She took you into her arms, and you let out a relieved shaky breath at her just smelling like Leah. The faint scent of her shampoo and soap helped greatly to ground you, but as she pulled away slightly you kept your eyes on the tile, shy under the weight of her worried gaze. Her nail tickled the underside of your chin as she prompted you to meet her eyes, yours still a bit misty. 

Taking her appearance in, you giggled wetly and wiped away the few tears that had escaped. Your girlfriend, for all of her beauty, had her fringe sticking up wildly at different angles- looking like she had been electrocuted. To her chagrin, this had upped your mood greatly, the confused look that graced her face at your uncontrollable laughter spurring on your giggles even further. Calming down, your lips stay upturned in what you’re sure is a horribly lovesick smile as you reach your hands up to tenderly brush her hair back into place with your fingers. Letting them fall to the side of her face, you can’t help yourself but to drag the blonde into a heartfelt kiss, leaving her to bracket your legs with her arms to avoid toppling over at your sudden enthusiasm. 

Pulling away, her face is left rosy at her realization of her previous appearance and at the tender act of affection so early in the morning-  breaking out in a matching dopey smile. Delicately removing herself from your intermingled bodies, she stands and holds her hands out to you. “All right giggly, how about you get cleaned up and we can still have some cuddle time?”

You nod as she delicately helps you to her feet, leading your hands behind her back and letting them go to wrap around you once again- fondly kissing the top of your head as you embrace. In a similar state of undress to you, her bare skin feels wonderful against yours and staves off the slight chill from the cold bathroom tile. Reluctant to break apart, she looks you up and down once again before kissing your cheek for good measure and leaving you. “Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll be in the kitchen.”

You snort at the thought of your girlfriend’s cooking abilities, and can hear her yell as she makes her way through your shared apartment. “I heard that!” 

Exiting the bathroom, you feel warm at the sight of the bed made, your favorite sweater of hers perched atop the endless blankets that are normally kicked off in favor of your lover’s body heat. Slipping it on and already missing the blonde, you’re happy to find her exactly where she promised.

“All set?” She's stood in front of the stove, and your hands snake around her middle, nodding your head from its resting place between her shoulder blades. Trying to glance at what she’s making from your position, you tiptoe to look over her shoulder but can’t quite get a glimpse. Finding that venture useless at her height and your unwillingness to detach from her to get a proper view, you nuzzle back into your previous position but miss the earlier feeling of her skin on yours. 

You’re suddenly very glad for the oversized nature of the sweater she slipped on, as you suddenly slide under the back of it, making her jump at your cold hands. Letting out a satisfied hum at her soft skin warming your forehead, you’re jostled at the way her laughs echo throughout her whole body. “Someone’s clingy today huh?”

You pinch her, making her jump, and your voice comes out muffled from under the fabric. “You promised me cuddles and are now depriving me of them. Don’t think you’re so funny.”

“Come on out grumpy, you have to eat first and then I promise you can get all the cuddles you want.” She coos at you, and you consider pinching her again for her condescending tone but leave the warm cocoon you had created anyways. She turns around, resting her hands on your hips and stunning you with her sly smile that gets her out of the trouble she always finds herself in. 

The content that spreads all the way through to your toes is broken when she abruptly places her hands much lower, on your thighs- and hoists you up against her before placing you gently on the counter. You yelp at the action, and smack her arm. “Leah! A little warning would be appreciated!” 

The cold bite of the countertop is quickly quelled by the heat emanating from the stove she’s sat you next to. You’re about to complain further before she shuts you up with a hand on your thigh, causing you to suddenly feel much warmer. She shoots you a smirk at the way your words die on your tongue, and you half-heartedly roll your eyes at her, not very convincing with the way your lips can’t help but curl up at the edges. “No more complaints from the missus I see!”

She smiles wider at your lack of response, beginning to rub circles into your skin with one hand, as she turns back to stirring with the other. You glance over at what she’s making and are pleasantly surprised at what looks to be a pretty good assortment for breakfast sandwiches. You soften at the sight of cut up avocado adorning your beat-up cutting board, the girl forever hating anything green but paying attention to your love. Your gaze drifts back to your girlfriend to find her staring intensely at the eggs she’s stirring around, clearly trying her hardest to not let them get too… crispy.

You admire her in the comfortable silence that’s instigated by her concentration, furrowing her brow while placing ingredients gently atop one another. Momentarily, your gaze is brought to her hands as she turns the stove off, moving to dexterously put everything into place. You Blame your heightened hormones for your momentary distraction, as if you aren’t always smitten for the other girl no matter what she does. 

Broken out of your daydreaming, she appears in front of you proudly, plate in each hand. You resist the urge to laugh at the way yours is teetering slightly, stacked with almost everything in the kitchen that she knows you enjoy. “Voila! A meal fit for a queen.”

Grateful for her work but also just wanting to be close to the girl, you peck her lips gratefully while stealing your own plate and traveling over to the dining table- her hand gripped tightly in yours. Standing next to her, she quirks a confused eyebrow at you as you prompt her to sit down first. As she does, you place your plate next to her, and promptly sit down right in her lap. 

She laughs, but is quick to steady your hips with her hands, maneuvering you onto one of her thighs so that she still has space to eat her own breakfast. “Well hello there beautiful lady! A hello would’ve been nice but I’m sure not complaining.”

“Well I guess when I see such a handsome woman I really just can’t help myself! You can’t blame me!” You punctuate your jest with a pout, moving to place a sweet kiss to her lips before turning to your food. She melts at the gesture, frozen in a stare at your preoccupied form. At the weight of her loving gaze, you once again pinch her, a lot softer than your earlier attack. Snapping out of her stupor, one of her hands reaches for her fork while the other creeps under your sweater- returning to soothing motions over your aching muscles.

Barely able to keep your hands off each other, you both finish your meals in record time, the plates abandoned as you drag her back to your bedroom. Needless to say, she more than fulfills her earlier promise, and for the rest of the day you only leave her arms when she insists on getting you medicine or water. Falling asleep after the fifth movie of the day, you’re sure that she’s the best medicine on the market.

Leah, constantly one to sweep you off your feet, had organized a sweet weekend getaway to Amsterdam for your six month anniversary. Since joining the club and hitting it off with the blonde, you hadn’t had much time to explore around Europe like you’d hoped when you first decided to make the move. With the way she hung onto your every word, Leah had clearly remembered this small detail and planned an extremely thoughtful getaway around it, surprising you with the plane tickets after training one day. 

You were nearly drunk on the amount of affection you felt for the girl, having been sufficiently pampered with the amount of plans she had made for the two of you. The day before, Leah had arranged a walking tour of the city which, wanting to stay in her own little bubble with you- was guided by the overexcited girl herself. Judging by the exasperated texts you received from a certain Dutch striker afterwards, it seemed that she had really gone all out to impress you, even if it meant she was never allowed to ask Viv a question again. If you hadn’t been completely gone for her by that point, you had arrived back to your beautiful hotel room just to see a new dress and heels laid out on your bed, before you were promptly shooed off to get ready. 

When you stepped out of the bathroom that had turned into your holding cell at her insistence, you were pleasantly surprised by the sight of your girlfriend in a suit you had picked out for her during one of your first ‘dates.’ She had been so nervous then, and desperate for an excuse to see you away from your teammates’ teasing remarks, using the excuse of an upcoming event to have you go shopping together. You never did get to see her in it, and when you had started dating, she claimed that it was too precious and had to be used for an incredibly important event. 

Apparently, she had deemed her surprise dinner date a special enough occasion, almost missing the reservation due to your appreciation of her attire. After hours of giggling over an expensive bottle of wine and being kindly told to wrap it up by staff, both your stomach and heart were completely full. Stumbling around in the streets hand-in-hand, entirely too dressed up while looking for ice cream with her jacket hugging your shoulders, you could have died happy.

So, after finally collapsing for the night and drifting on cloud nine, you decided you wanted to return the favor somewhat- to make her swoon for once. With a free day tomorrow, and her snoring softly in your ear with your head pillowed by her arm, you sneakily turned your phone brightness down and hatched your plan. 

In the morning, even though Leah took so much coaxing to get out of bed that your lips were sore, you had succeeded in getting her dressed and out the door. Not one to enjoy being out of the know, she had attempted many sneaky glances at your navigation app, receiving warning glances every time she tried to distract you from your mission. As you approached, you gave her a deceivingly sweet smile, immediately making her suspicious. “Love, you’re being quite cryptic and we’ve gotten pretty rural. Do I really treat you so badly you’ve taken me to the Dutch countryside to kill me?”

“Leah! Where’s your sense of adventure?” You pout at her with hands on your hips, determined to have your dream realized. “Now can you close your eyes please?”

“Oh, this is really the end for me now. Tell my mum I love her.” She sasses back at you, but does as you say anyhow, putting her hands over her eyes for emphasis. You mock her accent and pouty tone under your breath, but delicately guide her by the crook of her elbow, taking care that she doesn’t trip over anything. 

She lets you lead her, careful to keep her eyes shut to avoid upsetting you and whatever has gotten you so excited. You firmly tell her to stay where she is and reinforce that she needs to keep her eyes shut before she hears your steps walk off. She worries you’ve gone and left her abandoned there before she makes out your voice talking to someone quietly, curious at the clanging that follows the conversation. Relieved at the warmth of your hands returning to her, you slowly take her hands away from her eyes. “I’m going to count down! Stay here- ” She hears you scurry off and at your prompt, opens her eyes, letting them adjust to the sunny day. 

“Ta-da!!” Her eyes focus on you, before dragging over to what you’re gesturing excitedly to. Hand gestures highlighting two bikes- fuck. Her face goes completely red as you prattle on, “We’ll be so cute! And this path up here goes just past some pretty tulip fields, we can stop and have a picnic!” 

Silently and not quite meeting your gaze, she grabs one of the bikes by the handlebars and starts walking it past the stand where you had rented them- nodding in thanks to the old man running it. This leaves you completely confused, and you jog your bike over to where she’s walked off, “Is it horribly cheesy? Do you hate it? I’m sorry I just wanted to do something for you because-” 

Once out of range of the little bike stand, she whips around to face you and mumbles something under her breath, only making eye contact with her feet. You tilt your head questioningly, prompting her to try again, and she rushes out “‘m not good at riding bikes.”

As you take a second to actually process her fast words, it’s your turn to be embarrassed, “Leah! You’ve never told me you don’t know how to ride a bike? I dragged you all the way out here trying to be romantic!” 

She kicks around the gravel under her Birkenstocks, like a scolded kid pouting, “It’s embarrassing…” You sigh hard and start to speak before being cut off, “-And I know how to ride one I’m just not good at it!” 

You raise an eyebrow, and she immediately loses the nerve she had built up, averting her eyes again. Having been too determined to give up something you had been so excited for, you knock your kickstand and trudge over to her. “Well get on! We’re going to get your confidence up!” 

She realizes that you’re not giving up anytime soon, losing the battle of puppy-dog eyes that she initiated. You expect her to climb right onto the bike, but instead she also kicks her stand and steps away. You’re ready to protest, expecting that she’s ready to call it a day, but are surprised when she falls into a crouch in front of you. She hastily starts tucking the bottoms of her baggy jeans into her socks and glares up at your shaking form, trying to contain your laugh. “What! You really do want me to die, don’t you? What happened to safety first?”

You shoot her an apologetic glance, still letting some giggles escape as you ruffle her hair. “I’m very flattered that you care so much for some cheap H&M jeans I bought you love, but I think you’re safe. Now stop stalling!”

She shoots you a wary glance, but regardless stands and kicks her leg back over the bike, getting into position. “Now! The hardest part is just getting started and righting your balance so I’ll give you a little push!” 

Leaving her side to stand over the back wheel, you grab her hips to steady her as she places her foot on one of the pedals. She stiffens slightly and shoots you a wink over her shoulder at the new position, “Well miss cheeky! I bet this was your plan all along wasn’t it?”

At her teasing, you slightly lean her over to the side she isn’t resting on, crumbling her confidence and setting off her balance- her face paling immediately. “Hey! This is no way to treat someone who is greatly humoring you right now! We could’ve been having a grand old time back in our hotel room at this time!” 

“Sorry sorry! Just focus!” You giggle and feel your face get a bit hot at the implications of her words before continuing. “Okay you’re gonna sit up, look up-” She follows your words, and with a hard push from you, “And pedal!” 

She wobbles a bit, clearly panicking and forgetting to actually pedal, having to put her feet back down to stop herself from completely toppling over. Catching her breath, she exasperates. “This is horrible! Who does this for fun? Psychopaths?” 

You try terribly hard not to laugh at her, but she’s just so cute and frustrated that you can't help yourself, shooting her a big smile at her withering glance. You really do appreciate that she’s trying for you, and lean up to give her a big, exaggerated kiss on the cheek with some words of encouragement. “You really almost had it baby! Just have to breathe and pedal, momentum helps a lot! Now come on, one more time, I’ve got you.”

She nearly hops off, and you rush to praise her so that she keeps at it, “You really are so brave lovie! I nearly had to be shipped off to the hospital when I was being taught!” She puffs up a little at the praise, and so you give her a proper kiss and continue, “My fearless, beautiful girlfriend!-”

“Alright alright, one more time but that is it! I don’t like making a fool of myself.” She backs up a little bit, ready to start again and clearly psyching herself up in her head. This time you’re stationed next to her, holding her handlebar with one hand and the seat cushion with the other. She glares down at the bike like it’s personally out to get her as you count her off, kissing her on the cheek and propelling her forward with all your strength on one. 

She gets some really good speed at your push, but once again forgets she needs to do the rest, righting her error as you yell desperately, “Pedal!” 

She starts really getting the hang of it with minimal swerving, and you whoop excitedly as she actually manages to turn the bike around and head back towards you, complete with a smug smirk on her face as she passes you. 

However, her pride doesn’t last for long enough as her eyes are still glued to you and not on the rock in her way. Before you can warn her, she’s crashing to the ground and you rush over to her deflated form. Luckily, her football instincts had clearly kicked in and she had landed with no injuries, bar some scrapes on her face and hand. You know you’re really in for it at the familiar frown you receive as you help her up. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The door chime indicating your exit from the small convenience store, you walk over to your poor girlfriend’s pathetic form, a cup of ice in one hand and box of plasters in the other. Sitting on the rough wood of the bench, she allows you to coo over her as you patch her up and hold ice over her thrumming wounds. 

You hold her hand in silence, laying your head on her shoulder as you sit side-by-side, watching the sun set over the beautiful tulip fields. You tear up a little bit, emotional at the view and that you were the cause of your girlfriend’s wounds, your plans slightly ruined. You nearly open your mouth to apologize again when she starts, “Thank you for today. I would’ve never thought to just sit outside and enjoy the view like this. And for believing in me, even if it was slightly misplaced.” She chuckles at the last part, placing her head on yours and nuzzling in slightly.  

You giggle at her sincere words, squeezing her hand in yours, reveling in the heat radiating off her accompanied by the comforting smell of her perfume. “All these flowers and you still have my favorite two lips in the world. Speaking of, I think I deserve a proper kiss after my act of courage today.”

You laugh at her horribly cheesy joke, but decide to indulge her anyway, pulling off her shoulder and cradling her poor wounded head in your hands as your lips meet.

a/n: thank u guys so much for the love on my last fic!! also terribly sorry if this doesn't make sense to my dutch friends </3 i am american

“Baby,” she whined. Sparing her a glance, you only narrowed your eyes further at her standing form, complete with a pout and carrying both of your heavy training bags. At the resolute silence she receives and losing your gaze to the TV, she makes a statement of letting them both thud to the floor and stomping over. 

“You cannot be serious!” She argues as she’s met with a socked foot to the abdomen when making a move to sit next to you. 

As she’s standing over you, you make an effort for an even steelier gaze as the beginnings of a smirk tease her lips. Slowly, she leans more and more weight onto your leg which, shaky from training- quickly crumbles under the pressure. “Get off Leah! You are stinky and annoying!” The small victory she gets from crashing onto you is quickly replaced by shock as she tumbles to the floor at your retaliation. 

“You can kick me all you want but do not call me Leah!” She scoffs, clutching her chest and looking up at you with her all-too-familiar furrowed brow. “Why not Williamson? It is your name, isn’t it?” You smack away the ghost of her hand on your thigh and roll your eyes. 

“Stop that! You only call me that when you’re angry!” She groans as she stands to her feet, matching your crossed arms, “And I haven’t done anything!”

“Oh really! Then it must have been my other completely irritating girlfriend who insists on poking and prodding me like a teenage boy all day long!” You punctuate your words by standing and digging your pointer finger into her sternum.

In an attempt to quell your frustration, her hands find a familiar place on your hips in the small space between your bodies. You avert your gaze to avoid crumbling at the act of affection accompanied by the heady smell of her perfume, your crossed arms still your only line of defense. Her head tilts softly as she gazes down at you, “Is it such a crime to be obsessed with my lovely, gorgeous, talented girlfriend?” 

Heat rises to your cheeks, shy under her complete attention and frustrated at the way she can still make you blush easily after all these years. At the small break in your angry facade, she takes the opportunity to let her hands wander lower, unfortunately jogging your memory to what had instigated your fury in the first place. “It absolutely is when you feel the need to smack my butt in front of all our teammates like a horny boy while they laugh on like your own little fraternity! Honestly!” Shoving at her chest, you stalk over to your shared bedroom. 

Following at a much slower pace and with her head down like a scolded child, she watches on quietly as you rip through the drawers for a change of clothes, grabbing a towel so hard you nearly send the whole stack tumbling. Realizing where this is going, she starts pleading, “Honey, I’m so sorry, they were really egging me on! I swear Katie-”

She stops talking and tailing you as she nearly collides with your back, mustering up her most pitiful puppy eyes as you set your things on the counter. Whipping around to face her, you stand in the threshold of the bathroom, gripping the door with white knuckles. “I’m taking a shower! Alone!” The door is then promptly shut in her face and she hears the lock’s definite click ringing in her ears.

She pouts at the hardwood in self-pity before deciding there was much groveling that needed to be done and she should try to get a head start while you cooled off. 

After taking your time in the shower, you did feel much more relaxed- enough that you reached for one of Leah’s sweaters when leaving the warm steam of the bathroom. Treading back into the living room, you were surprised at her absence on the couch, your girlfriend normally one for lazing around after training. 

You’re suspicious at the small glimpse of her in the kitchen, striding over to you with a sheepish smile, steaming plate in each hand. She had clearly taken the time to shower in the guest room, clad in a hoodie that you remembered complimenting at some point, accompanied by some oversized basketball shorts. Her hair was haphazardly tied up, and you found your frown dissolving at the sight of her bangs sticking out, never quite cooperating much to your girlfriend’s chagrin.

“‘M sorry, I know it’s not much but it’s all I can make without burning our kitchen down.” She awkwardly chuckles, avoiding your eyes slightly in shame. You sigh, irritation gone from your body, and reach for one of the plates of spaghetti when she yanks it back towards herself. She lights up completely at your small acceptance of her peace offering and smirks. “No! Nothing but the princess treatment tonight, my love!”

Navigating around you towards the couch with a new pep in her step, you stand stunned at her sudden change in attitude. You watch on as she carefully sets the plates down on the coffee table next to wine glasses that you hadn’t noticed before, happily plopping into her normal spot.

She had clearly prepared this to some extent, as she drags your favorite blanket half over herself, hovering the rest next to her as an invitation. She shoots you with her familiar pleading gaze, shaking your side of the blanket for emphasis. You were never destined to hold out for long, treading over with a roll of your eyes. As you sit down next to her, she shoots you a thousand-kilowatt smile, leaning over you and tucking the blanket under your thigh, clearly a ruse to have you scooch closer to her- her body heat now seeping into yours. 

“You get to pick the entertainment for tonight, no complaints, I swear!” She passes you the remote, and lets her arm fall around your shoulders, gazing at you with a smug grin on her face. Leah always claimed to hate your ‘cheesy’ movies, forever trying to distract you from them with affection. “I should pick a movie I know you hate after that earlier stunt.” You mumble, but she recognizes the teasing lilt to your voice. 

“I’m sorry honey. You really just looked too good today! It should be illegal to be that pretty after running around in the dirt all day, seriously!” You blush at her words, leaning over to place a small peck on her lips to shut her up and because you really could not keep up this facade much longer. 

She lights up even further, smile bursting at the seams as she eagerly reaches over to place your plate in your lap. At your fork in her hand and her refusal to hand it to you, you quickly catch on to what she’s trying to do. “Leah. Please do not.”

She sinks a little at your words, and groans. “Call me anything but Leah, I’m literally begging.” 

You giggle at her dramatics. “Fine baby, please do not embarrass me in my own home, I’m capable of feeding myself.”

Completely ignoring your words, she makes a point of twisting around some noodles into a little bite and holding it up to your mouth. At your glare, she just smiles harder and moves it closer to your mouth. Knowing she wouldn’t drop it, you open your mouth and allow her to feed you. As you chew, she stares pensively, “How is it?”

It’s entirely too salty, forever being the girl’s favorite ‘seasoning,’ but you get it down and send her a thumbs up anyway- accompanied with a small smile. She’s ecstatic at your praise and peppers your face with kisses before you push her away lightly, giggling with your mouth still a bit full. 

“Now that’s settled! Finish your five star meal and then I deserve a much-needed cuddle session for all my hard work!” She grabs her own bowl and starts scarfing it down. You chuckle to yourself at her newfound enthusiasm, satisfied at the fact that she still glues one hand to your thigh while eating with the other. 

As your plates are almost clean, you break the comfortable silence with a final warning. “Do not do that again baby. You are the vice captain of a professional team and a grown woman, not a twelve year old boy. And Katie’s still in big trouble for egging you on.”

She sets both of your finished bowls back on the table, dragging your legs over hers which leaves you half on her lap. Meeting your pouty gaze, she breaks out in a shit-eating grin. “But baby, you’re so hot when you’re mad at me.”

You held your breath as her head turned towards you for a moment, nearly tripping over her own lyrics. Her face was flushed from the exertion and excitement of being on stage, sweat sticking some of her hair to her forehead. You were reminded of how, through every disagreement over tour direction, you could never hope to stay angry when she looked upon you with such fondness.

Snapping out of your reverie at her confused expression, you felt a hand tap you on the shoulder- startling you out of your skin. Holding your chest with a sour expression on your face, you turned to the moment-ruiner (as you had already decided to deem him).

You were first met with the man's broad chest at your eye level, recognizing the logo of the venue's security staff sewed onto his left breast pocket. You were unhappy at the fact that you had to rake your eyes upwards to meet his gaze- mirroring your expression of discontent.

"Do you need my help with something?" You stated unkindly.

With your job, you had gotten very used to not being respected by men who can't handle taking orders from a woman. The man standing before you was clearly one of these cases, as you'd gotten pretty adept at identifying them throughout the course of your career. You guessed that your tone of voice hadn't made him any happier, his discontent turning to anger.

"Listen honey, I'm just looking for my station. Do you know where that might be princess?" He stated sarcastically, treating you like a dumb child.

You scowled, prepared to completely discard any professionalism in order to take this man down a peg. Raising your hand to point at him accusingly, someone else from security came running up to you, completely frenzied.

"I'm so, so, sorry someone must have directed him to the wrong person!" The young woman hurriedly said, her face scrunching up- bracing for the impact of your anger.

You looked between the two of them, letting out a sigh of frustration and dropping your hand. Not wanting to direct your frustration to the girl, you simply stated that 'mistakes happen' and waved them off, your ears still simmering from leftover anger.

As she hurriedly ushered him away from him, you heard a faraway, "well someone's got a stick up her ass." You tried to brush it off as you turned back to the stage, but couldn't help the tension in your jaw and balling of your fists.

You slowly forgot about the incident as you fell back into the habit of monitoring the rest of the show, making sure to stay alert for any technical issues. You duly noted the man as he made his way in front of the stage facing the barricade, trying to keep a scowl off your face.

Instead, your heart warmed at the crowd. They were especially great at this stop- singing and dancing their hearts out. Apparently, Ellie was thinking the exact same thing, choosing to descend the stairs to the barricade for the final song- nearly skipping in her excitement.

Your heart warmed impossibly more at the sight of her signing albums and taking pictures with all the crying fans at barricade. As the band started the outro of the song, she motioned the security guard from earlier over. You smirked as she practically used him as a jungle gym when he proved useless to boost her up into the crowd.

You were infinitely pleased at how gentle the crowd treated her as she surfed her way back to the front- only now armed with a couple lesbian flags and bouquets. She had made her way back to where she started, forcing the same man to help her back over.

You smiled, moveing from your spot and starting towards removing her mic stand on stage when you stopped in your tracks. He fucking dropped her.

Blood rushed through your ears as you spotted red in the chaos. Everything else fell into the background as your adrenaline pushed you to sprint towards the end of the stage- completely disregarding the stairs as you jumped to the floor. You barely registered the sting in your ankles as you pushed all other staff to the side with a strength you didn't know you possessed.

Your eyes were now stinging too as you took in the sight of her sprawled on the floor. One side of her long shorts was bunched up around the wound, giving you a clear view of the blood surging out of her thigh. She looked as if the pain didn't even faze her, instead glaring daggers at the perpetrator.

Not even registering your own voice, you barked at everyone to back off- a volume you didn't know yourself capable of. You dropped to your knees in the dirt beside her, her angry gaze turning embarrassed when laid on you. You heard her mumble something to you, but it fell on deaf ears as you openly stared at the wound... it looked deep to your untrained eye.

Panicking at the amount of blood covering her thigh, hands, and the ground under it, you didn't even think about your next actions and ripped your shirt off.

The cold night breeze ghosted your heated skin as you wrapped the plain black fabric around the wound, accidentally pulling the sleeves into too tight of a knot in your fervor. You cringed and turned to look at her face for any pain, apology on the tip of your tongue.

When you expected to meet her gaze, you instead found her even more wide-eyed than she had been when the barricade quite literally sliced her skin- and staring right at your chest. You almost laughed at the circumstance, the excitement turning it into a wet sob when it left your mouth. You silently thanked whatever god was out there for your choice of a plain black bra earlier that day.

Moving to her side and sliding an arm under hers, you helped bring her to feet- careful not to jostle her hurt leg. You sighed in relief as the crowd parted and revealed a paramedics who took her from your side and more successfully hauled her off to backstage.

You followed behind them like a lost puppy, resisting the urge to ask them to be gentle with her. They sat her down in a white plastic chair and crouched over the wound, Ellie grunting at the effort. Staring at the scene from a couple feet away, you rushed to Ellie's side at her first moan of pain.

She grabbed your hand and held it bruisingly, you not even feeling it compared to the hurt in your heart at her pain. She peered up at you, her forehead even sweatier than earlier, attempting a chuckle at the sight of fat tears rolling down your face. Even now, she was trying to cheer you up as she was bleeding out- it made even more hot tears cascade down your cheeks.

You nearly blocked out the whole process of the paramedics cleaning and dressing the wound, the sounds that Ellie was trying to subdue nearly making you cry again. With her leg wrapped in fresh gauze, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of your hand as the medics took their kit and left the room.

She once again looked up at you, eyes softening at your far-away expression.

"Hey...honey?" She stated softly, like she would startle you. At your lack of response, she reached over to your other hand and gently pulled you to be stood right in front of her. You kept your gaze locked on the stark white of the gauze against her skin- not being able to get the image of her wound out of your head.

She starts again, "...did'ya hear them? Said it looked a lot worse than it was. I'm pretty tough yanno."

Slowly, your hands calmed their trembling in the warmth of her grasp and you shuddered out a breath, raking your eyes up her form back to her face. Her expression turned your insides back into jelly, and you became too aware of your state of undress- having to focus on something other than the adoration in her eyes.

You blushed and looked to the side, only to catch a glimpse of something that had you gripping her hands- only in anger. That smug fuck was standing in the doorway of the room they had brought Ellie to.

You saw red as you ripped your hands from Ellie's, adrenaline taking you far enough to grab his collar and slam him against the wall adjacent to the door. Despite your difference in height, the man looked almost scared as you spewed every insult you could think of his way.

You failed to notice the crowd around him, likely the ones who brought him there to apologize, who were now attempting to separate him from your rage. He was lucky for the arms from behind you as a punch narrowly escaped his face- you fighting against the grip holding you back. He was rushed away as you made another attempt to surge towards him, now with two people holding you back.

As he got farther from your sight, your insults and rage only increased in volume as you stopped fighting against the arms holding you. You breathed through the rest of your rage, chest puffing up and down slowly at the remnants of anger.

A gentle hand rested on your shoulder, and you turned around slowly to face Ellie's worried eyes. She was wobbling slightly, favoring her one leg over the other. You panicked at the sight of her exertion, and inserted yourself as a makeshift crutch for her, leading her back to her chair. She closed the door, blocking out the crowd your outburst had formed and you helped her down like she was made of glass.

You avoided her stare for the millionth time, moving down to your knees to assess the bandage on her leg. Your hand smoothed over the scratchy surface, then stilled.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side," she chuckled.

You felt mortified, hiding your face in your hands and mumbling out a "sorry."

There was a moment of silence before you heard chuckling from her. Shocked, you shot your head back up.

She looked like she was trying really hard not to completely laugh in your face, her shoulders shaking from the weight of her amusement. You couldn't help but let out a pfft and devolved into giggles yourself, the absurdity of the situation catching up to you.

You ended up locked in each other's gazes as your giggles died down, smiling softly at one another.

"Y'know, it was kinda hot. You going all alpha for little 'ol me," she jested.

"Shut up!" You guffawed, and pinched her leg as retaliation.

"I'm serious!" A million-watt smirk replacing her soft smile, "I thought you were gonna rip him apart!"

You turned contemplative for a moment before hardening your expression, "I should've!"

She pulled your arms up, making your hands bracket her thighs on the chair. Your knees hurt at the position, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care once you felt the warmth of her breath on your face.

Her voice turned into a whisper, "You must like me a whole bunch to do something like that, huh?"

You couldn't find it in yourself to be bashful at the accusation, not with how elated she looked- like it was a secret between you two.

"I really must be, to defend you after you mortally wounded me earlier, hm?" You whispered back, your lips turning up in a smirk mirroring hers.

Her gaze drifted back up to your forehead, one of her hands ghosting over it before landing at the side of your face. Her other hand joined it, thumbs softly stroking your cheeks as she fully cradled your head.

"My hero," she breathed, before leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

You leaned up, squeezing the side of her leg a bit. She gasped at the slight pain, and you separated- both your chests heaving. At your similar state of breathlessness, you both fell victim to another set of giggles before diving back in.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks for reading as always!! i hope you enjoyed the second part and i really appreciate all the love on the first ♡

You had met her when she opened for another group you were managing at the time, and you were hooked. The first time you watched her set, you nearly lost your job for spending too much time mesmerized by her and her music.

Behind the stage and with the forced proximity of touring, you two became friendly fast. Every night without fail, Ellie would go out with you and the rest of the crew- even helping to pack everything up. You had always thought it was weird she never made an attempt to follow the headliner around, instead choosing to be squished up against you in shitty bar booths.

When it came to the final dates of tour, Ellie had reverted to blatantly following you around. Many members of the crew had teased you incessantly for it, with you brushing it off as fast friendship. You couldn't deny that you were attracted to her, but she was far too new to the scene and had too much potential to get caught up on some girl she met on her first tour.

Still, you couldn't deny her when she asked to stay in touch in a final act of bravery. You managed to stay in touch for a little while with short conversations in-between your busy schedules. Eventually, these very schedules clashed too much and Ellie became a fond memory of a summer crush as you stopped talking to one another.

You were beyond pleased when you heard one of her songs playing over the gritty speakers of a grocery store, recognizing her voice immediately. Then, you became more puzzled as you kept hearing it between all the stores you visited while doing errands. Pulling out your phone between all of the items you were juggling, you typed her name into google and you were stunned to see countless articles praising a new album of hers, as well as a music video with nearly a million views.

What shocked you even more was a phone call from the very girl painted across your browser, leading you to your current position as her tour manager- only now she was the headliner.

Only a couple dates in, and it had already been one of the most taxing and rewarding experiences of your life. After running between different crew members and carrying heavy equipment all night, you got to watch from the side stage as she sung to thousands of queer girls every night.

If you had a tiny crush on her before, it had morphed into a complete obsession after watching her sing her heart out every night- with a newfound confidence she didn't have when she used to follow you around. With the rise of your affection for her, also grew your embarrassment at even being in her proximity.

Luckily, your duties allowed for easy avoidance of the brunette- you always running off with an excuse of someone needing you fresh on your tongue. Still, Ellie was persistent and had managed to catch you off guard on a couple occasions that only left you a blushing mess.

One of these occurences was fresh in your mind as you once again found yourself stationed at side stage, likely with hearts in your eyes while watching her.

You had been taping schedules up on the dressing room doors, someone blabbering to you from the walkie- your head pounding at the noise. Suddenly the door opened right into your forehead, and you envied the dull throb of your earlier headache.

With your eyes screwed shut in pain and hand flying up to the soon-to-be bump on your forehead, you vaguely registered Ellie's panicked voice. You cracked your eyes open into a squint at her as her hands gently cradled your head, feeling embarrassed for more than one reason now.

"Ohmygod, are you okay?" She rushed the words out all at once and was looking at the spot like it was the greatest shame she had ever witnessed. Her kicked puppy eyes quickly moved down to your eyes as words weren't coming to you.

Unbeknownst to her, you were busy internally patting yourself on the back for hiring the stylist that you did. She was wearing a cropped vest with nothing underneath, giving you full view of her toned, heavily tattooed arms that were at eye level from her delicately holding your head. The deep-V allowed for an almost complete view of her chest, and it took a great amount of strength to drag your eyes back up to hers.

"Oh god," she panicked, "Did I give you a concussion?" Her eyes turned even more worried at your blank stare.

As she whipped around, likely to call for a medic of some sort, you snapped out of it and brought your hands to cover hers, leading them back down in front of you. You swore you felt a breeze from how fast her head came back to you, then down at her hands in your gentle grasp.

You started gently, "Ellie it's fine, you just shocked me 's all."

One of her hands slipped from yours like water as she once again turned her gaze towards your forehead, staring at it contemplatively. Suddenly, she moved closer to you, your heart lurching at the smell of her cologne- she hadn't changed it since that first tour together. You vaguely remember complimenting it once, late at night after too many drinks.

Your breath hitched as she ghosted her fingers over the (likely bruising) spot, gently moving your hair to the side to get a better look. You felt butterflies settle in your stomach between her delicate touch and her warm hand still in yours.

"D'you need some ice?" She whispered into the space between you. She leaned back, and you felt yourself let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. You mumbled out a no, barely hearing your own voice. Her gaze turned gentle and adoring, but you couldn't find it in yourself to look away despite the hurricane in your chest.

"Wouldn't be able to get anything done without my favorite crew member, Y'know?" She smirked at her comment.

You lightly pushed her away, scoffing and taking a moment of respite from the overwhelming look in her eyes. This motion left your fingers ghosting against the bare skin that her revealing top left, and you brought your hands back like they'd been scorched.

"What would you do without me?" You laughed awkwardly, still avoiding looking at her.

"I dunno, haven't seen much of you lately actually..." she quietly stated.

You slowly turned your head back towards her, racking your brain for some excuse that you hadn't already exasperated. You started about five different thoughts before giving up and whispering a small "I'm sorry."

Her eyes turned wide and she earnestly grabbed the sides of your arms, gripping them like she was scared you would run away. She shook her head a bit, "No, no, no I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you feel guilty... I know you have quite the operation to run."

Once again, you found that all you could do was blankly stare at her- you were expecting her to be mad. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something more, before stopping. Your eyes met again, with you looking at her quizzically before her face turned resolute and she held your arms even tighter.

"I just begged you to manage this-" her hands left your arms and gestured wildly, "whole thing- because I thought we would get to spend more time together," she blurted out.

You felt your eyes widen and jaw drop, sputtering for words. Ellie looked completely mortified at her confession, and you grabbed the sides of her face to stop her from completely bolting- something she looked very ready to do.

Her freckled face went completely red at your actions, the heat of her hands ghosting over your hips as you both stared at one another. Slowly, you brought her face closer to yours and her eyes softened at the motion. Suddenly, your forgotten walkie crackled to life on your shoulder- shocking the both of you, "10 minutes 'til showtime!"

The volume caused you both to jump away from one another- like you'd been caught doing something bad. Ellie rushed out a 'sorry' before bolting from the room, leaving you stuck in place.

Once you found it in yourself to snap out of your stupor, you exit the room and navigate through all of the equipment and people occupying the backstage area, the background noise turning to fuzz in your ears.

Somebody hands you a mic pack, and you move on autopilot before finding yourself at Ellie's side once again. You both stay completely silent and you pointedly avoid her searing gaze. Instead, you move to her back, fingers dancing over her skin as you secure the mic's clip to her pants.

She stills at the contact, so you move your grip to her hips, rotating her to face you once again while keeping your eyes on the task at hand. She starts to say something, but you grab her hand, placing her in-ears delicately in her palm.

Turning away from her and running to a fellow crew member, you start prattling away the pre-show checklist to your walkie- trying to calm the pounding of your heart and heat of your cheeks.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks for reading! I'll probably have part two up tomorrow or the next day, and as always, requests are appreciated!!