A's world

The morning sun streamed through the curtains of the apartment you now called home, you woke slowly, the familiar weight of Alexia's arm draped across your waist, her breath warm against your neck, the city hummed faintly outside the window and the distant sound of traffic, the occasional shout from the street below, it was a sound you'd grown used to, a sound that felt like home.

You turned your head carefully, not wanting to wake her. Alexia's face was relaxed in sleep, her lips slightly parted, her dark hair a mess against the pillow, she looked peaceful, she looked like she belonged here.

You reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and she stirred, her eyes fluttering open and for a second, she looked confused but then she saw you, and her face broke into a slow, sleepy smile.

"Hey," she murmured.

"Hey."

"You're staring again."

"Admiring," you corrected, your voice soft, "there's a difference."

Alexia laughed with a quiet, morning laugh that made your chest ache in the best way and said, "you're impossible."

"And yet you keep me around."

"Someone has to."

Alexia shifted closer, resting her head on your shoulder and you both lay there together, the morning light warming the room, the city humming outside, there was no rush and no pressure it was just the quiet certainty that this was where you were supposed to be.

---

Training had started again two weeks ago, and the familiar rhythm of early mornings and late afternoons had returned like an old friend, the new season was approaching, and the team had returned to the Ciutat Esportiva with the familiar energy of a fresh start. There were new faces, a couple of young players from the B team, a signing from France who was still learning Spanish, and a goalkeeper who looked like she'd been born with gloves on her hands, there were also new drills, new tactical ideas and new goals.

But some things hadn't changed, Mapi was still loud, her voice carrying across the pitch like a foghorn, her laughter echoing off the walls of the training ground and she was already arguing with Pere about the new system, her hands waving wildly as she explained why her idea was better. Patri was still sharp, her passes crisp, her movement off the ball surgical and Caro still watched everything with quiet amusement, her eyes missing nothing, her comments few but always perfectly timed. Irene was still the calm presence in the backline, steady and unshakeable.

And Alexia was still the heart of it all.

You watched her during the first warm up of the season, the way she moved through the drills with an ease that came from years of practice, the way she called out instructions to the younger players, the way she laughed at something Mapi said and the sound carried across the pitch. She was different now much lighter, much happier and more present and the best part is that you knew, with a quiet certainty, that you were part of that change.

You walked onto the pitch together on the first day of full training, as you always did now, your shoulders brushed, your hands close but not quite touching and there was no need for grand gestures, no need to prove anything to anyone cause the team had seen it all, the coldness, the silence, the slow thaw, the warmth that had replaced it and no one said anything cause no one needed to.

Mapi caught your eye from across the pitch and winked with a knowing, playful gesture that said everything without words and you just rolled your eyes, but you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your face cause it was impossible to stay annoyed with Mapi for long, she was too genuine, too warm, too obviously happy for both of you.

"Looking good," she called out as you passed her, "both of you, this new season suits you."

You shook your head, but the smile stayed, "it's been two days."

"And already you look like you belong here and that is much more than before." Mapi paused and her voice softened just a fraction, "it's good to see, the both of you have been this happy."

You didn't know what to say to that, so you just nodded and Mapi patted your shoulder and jogged off to join the others, leaving you standing at the edge of the pitch, watching the team move through their drills.

It felt right. 

It felt like home.

—----

The first match of the season was at Camp Nou, and the moment you stepped into the tunnel, you felt it, the weight of history pressed down on you but not as a burden but as a privilege cause this was the stadium where legends were made, where Ronaldinho had danced and where Messi had carved his name into football history, where Alexia had lifted trophy after trophy and now, you were walking through the same tunnel, about to step onto the same grass.

The roar of the crowd filtered through the concrete walls, a low and rumbling hum that vibrated through your chest and you could hear the chants, the drums, the distant sound of a thousand voices singing in unison. The floodlights blazed overhead, casting everything in a bright, golden glow that made the tunnel feel like a portal to another world.

You stood at the edge of the tunnel, the familiar nerves humming through your veins but this time, it was different cause you weren't scared, you weren't doubting yourself, you were excited and eager, ready to prove that you belonged here, not just as a player, but as someone who had earned your place.

Alexia stood beside you with her captain's armband tight around her bicep and her posture straight and proud, she had played here many times, but you could see it in her eyes that this moment still mattered, every time, it still mattered.

Alexi glanced at you with a big smile on her face, "ready?"

"Always."

The anthem started playing and you walked out onto the pitch and instantly the noise hit you like a wave, the crowd a sea of red and blue, a living, breathing entity that pulsed with energy and you had to take a deep breath, letting it wash over you.

And then the match began.

It was everything you'd dreamed of all the passes were crisp, the tackles clean, the movement fluid and the team moved together like a machine, each player knowing exactly where the other would be, you played well, really solid in defense, your timing sharp, your reading of the game instinctive and every tackle you made, every clearance you won, every pass you completed, the crowd responded cause they saw you and they recognized you.

You weren't just a player on the pitch, you were one of them.

The first goal came in the 27th minute, Alexia received the ball on the edge of the box, and she didn't hesitate, she cut inside and shifted the ball onto her right foot, and curled it into the top corner and of course the stadium erupted, the noise was deafening, a wall of sound that seemed to shake the very ground beneath you.

She ran toward the corner flag with her arms outstretched, her face split with joy and the team swarmed her, and you found yourself running toward her too and when you reached her, she grabbed you, her arms wrapping around you, her breath warm against your ear.

"This is what I've been waiting for," Alexia said, her voice barely audible over the noise, "sharing this with you, this moment, this feeling."

You held onto her, not caring who saw, not caring about anything except the warmth of her in your arms and you answered her, "I'm here," you said, "and I'm not going anywhere."

The second goal came in the 58th minute, a header from a corner, and it was yours. You timed your run perfectly, losing your marker with a sharp cut across the penalty area, and you redirected the ball past the goalkeeper with a flick of your head, the crowd roared again and before you could realise you were on the ground, and someone was on top of you, and you were laughing, and you couldn't stop.

When you finally got to your feet, Alexia was there, her eyes shining, her smile wide, "that's my girl," she said.

The final whistle blew and the score was 3-0, a controlled and confident victory you stood in the center of the pitch, hands on your knees, catching your breath, the noise was overwhelming, but it felt good. It felt like belonging, Alexia appeared beside you, her arm finding its way around your waist, her jersey was damp with sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead, but her eyes were bright, and her smile was wide.

"Good game," she said.

"You too."

She pulled you closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, meant only for you, "I'm glad you're here, every single day, I'm glad you're here."

You looked at her, really looked at her and after the years of anger, the wall you'd built, the slow unraveling and all of it had led to this, to her, to this moment, to standing in the middle of the Camp Nou, with the love of your life beside you, and the roar of the crowd in your ears.

"Me too," you said, "for real this time."

You walked off the pitch together, your arms around each other, the floodlights bright overhead, the crowd still cheering, you didn't know what the future held but for the first time, you weren't afraid to find out, because you knew you wouldn't have to face it alone.

The team celebrated that night with a small dinner at a restaurant near the stadium.

It wasn't as loud as the Champions League final, there was no champagne and no sombreros, no Mapi led conga lines or anything similar but the energy was warm and familiar, the kind of celebration that came from knowing you'd done something good and you'd done it together.

You sat next to Alexia, your shoulders touching, your hands intertwined under the table and around you, teammates laughed and teased and shared stories from the match.

At one point Mapi raised her glass and said, "to the new season," she announced, "and to the people who make it bearable," she looked at you and Alexia and added, "especially when they stop pretending they hate each other."

The table erupted in laughter and Alexia just shook her head but she was smiling and you just squeezed her hand under the table, not caring who saw.

"To the new season," you echoed, your voice quiet but sure.

Later that night, you walked home together through the quiet streets of Barcelona, the stars were out, the city lights glittering in the distance, Alexia's hand was in yours, warm and steady and you walked slowly, not wanting the night to end.

"I was thinking," Alexia said, "about the first time you called me your hero."

You looked at her and said, "that was a long time ago."

"I know but sometimes I think about it, I think about the girl with the poster above her bed, the one who wanted to be like me," Alexia paused, her eyes soft, "I know she's still in there, and I'm still trying to be worthy of that."

You stopped walking and you turned to face her, your hands finding hers.

"You don't have to be worthy," you said, "you just have to be you and that's always been enough."

Alexia held your gaze for a long moment, her eyes soft, her smile gentle as the city hummed around you, the distant sound of traffic and laughter drifting through the warm night air but you didn't hear any of it cause all you could see was her.

Then Alexia pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you like she never wanted to let go, her face buried in your neck, her breath warm against your skin, her body pressed against yours like she was trying to memorize the shape of you.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," Alexia whispered, her voice muffled against your shoulder.

You closed your eyes, the words settling into your chest like the final piece of a puzzle you hadn't known you were solving and your arms tightened around her, pulling her impossibly closer.

"I think you might be the best thing that ever happened to me too," you said.

Alexia pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes searching yours, the streetlight above cast a soft glow across her face, illuminating the curve of her cheek, the shine in her eyes, the small smile that played at the corner of her lips.

"You know," Alexia said, her voice barely above a whisper, "when I first saw you in that tunnel, back when you were nineteen and terrified and full of fire, I never imagined..."

"Never imagined what?"

Alexia reached up, her fingers brushing your cheek, "that you would become this, that you would become... everything to me."

You didn't know what to say to that cause words felt too small, too clumsy for the weight of what you felt, so instead, you leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative and gentle, like the first step onto new ground, Alexia’s lips were warm against yours, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair and you felt her sigh against your mouth, a quiet, contented sound that made your chest ache and when you finally pulled back, your forehead resting against hers, you were both breathing a little faster.

"I love you," you said, the words came easily now, like they'd always been there, waiting.

Alexia smiled with that small and genuine smile that you'd come to recognize as hers alone. "I love you too, more than I ever thought I could."

You stood there, in the middle of the quiet street, the city lights flickering around you, and you let yourself feel it, all of it, the fear, the hope, the joy and the overwhelming certainty that this was where you were supposed to be.

Alexia took your hand, her fingers lacing through yours, "come on," she said softly, "let's go home."

You walked together, your shoulders brushing, your hands intertwined, the city humming around you and for the first time in your life, you knew exactly where home was.

The only way to move forward is to let go of the past and embrace the future.

And now, you understand.

Letting go wasn't about forgetting, it was about making room for new memories, new people, new versions of yourself, it was about trusting that what you had was worth more than what you'd left behind.

You stopped walking, just for a moment, and looked up at the sky, the stars were out, scattered across the darkness like tiny reminders that the universe was bigger than your fears. Barcelona stretched out before you, the lights, the streets, the hum of life, this city had been foreign to you once, cold and unfamiliar and now it felt like it had been waiting for you all along.

Alexia paused beside you, her hand still in yours, "what are you thinking about?"

You turned to look at her and her face was soft in the dim light, her eyes curious, her lips curved into a small, patient smile. She was waiting, she was always waiting and you realized, with a sudden, quiet clarity, that she would wait forever if that was what you needed.

But you didn't need to wait anymore.

"I'm thinking," you said, "that I spent five years running from a moment I didn't understand and I spent the last year learning to stop."

She squeezed your hand, "and?"

"And I think I finally did."

Alexia pulled you closer, her forehead resting against yours, "then let's keep going, together."

You smiled, closing your eyes, "together."

You walked the rest of the way home in comfortable silence, the city lights guiding your path and when you finally reached the door of the apartment, Alexia fumbled for her keys, and you watched her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the night air, she pushed the door open, and you stepped inside, the space was familiar now, the couch, the bookshelf, the photos on the wall, some of which included you, you'd become part of this life, part of her life.

And she had become part of yours.

You kicked off your shoes, and Alexia did the same. She reached for your hand again, pulling you toward the bedroom.

"Come on," Alexia said softly, "I'm not done with you yet."

You laughed, "I'm not done with you either."

A/N: first of all thank you so much for reading cause this story has been a journey, not just for the characters, but for me too, all of this started with a simple idea: what if a moment lost in translation became the base for everything? And it grew into something much bigger, something about forgiveness, trust, and learning to let go of the past. I wanted to end this on a special note, so I made sure to finish it on the 11th (a little wink to Alexia's number) cause it felt right, it felt like the perfect way to close this chapter. I hope you loved the ending as much as I loved writing it cause these two characters with their anger, their silence, their slow unraveling, and finally their healing have become so real to me and I hope they've become real to you too.

For now, I'm going to take some time away to rest and recover after my cat Princess passed away everything has been harder than I expected cause she was my little writing companio, always curled up beside me while I typed and she was my only company too so this story was the last thing I finished with her by my side, and that makes it even more special to me. I hope to see you all again soon but for now, take care of yourselves and thank you for being here.

With love,

The words lingered in the air long after you'd said them.

"Good, cause I'm not done with you either."

You'd meant them as a joke, a playful echo of her own words, but as you stood there in the middle of the hotel room, the city lights glittering through the floor to ceiling windows, the weight of them settled somewhere deep in your chest cause it wasn't a joke, it was a promise and you meant every syllable of it.

Alexia's hand was still in yours, warm and steady, her forehead resting against yours, the night air was cool, the room lightly dim, the world reduced to just the two of you standing there, breathing the same air.

"We should probably sleep," Alexi said eventually, her voice soft.

"Probably."

Neither of you moved.

"Five more minutes," you whispered.

Alexia smiled with that small, genuine smile that you'd come to recognize as hers alone, "five more minutes."

You stood there in the quiet, the city lights painting shadows across her face, and you thought about how far you'd come, from that first cold day in the locker room, to the coffee dates, to the final, to this, to her and to everything you'd never known you were waiting for.

The next morning, you woke to the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand, you groaned, reaching blindly for it without opening your eyes, your hand found the phone, and you pulled it toward you, squinting at the screen.

Mapi: Morning, champions. I'm not going to ask how your night was but I'm going to think about it loudly.

Mapi: Also, media wants photos at 10 please don't be late….. or be…. I won't judge.

You smiled despite yourself, typing back a quick "on my way" before setting the phone down as Alexia stirred beside you, her arm tightening around your waist.

"What time is it?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Too early."

"Then go back to sleep."

"Can't cause we have media photos duty."

Alexia groaned, burying her face in your shoulder, "I hate media."

"You love media."

"I love winning and setting the highest standards, and sadly media is the price I pay."

You laughed, running your fingers through her hair, "come on, captain cause the whole world wants to see your face."

She lifted her head, her eyes still heavy with sleep, and Alexia looked at you with an expression that made your chest ache, "fine but I’m going only because you're going to be in the photos too."

The press conference was a blur of flashing cameras and questions you barely heard, you sat next to Alexia at the table, both of you in matching team polos, your hair still slightly damp from the shower. The media room was packed with journalists from all over, cameras pointed at you like from all directions, microphones crowding the edge of the table, you'd done press conferences before but you'd never been this nervous. Alexia handled it like she'd been born for it, she answered questions with calm confidence, deflecting the tricky ones with a smile, giving credit to the team and the coaching staff and the fans, she was polished, professional, and completely in control.

And every so often, under the table, her hand would brush against yours.

It was just a touch, just a reminder and you had to stop yourself from smiling every time.

 At some point the questions eventually turned to you, "you were instrumental in the final cause that goal in the 83rd minute was the difference. How does it feel to be a Champions League winner?"

You blinked cause the question was simple but the answer felt complicated. How could you explain what it meant? The years of anger, the wall you'd built, the woman sitting next to you who had torn it down without even knowing, "it feels..." you paused, searching for the right words before going on, "it feels like everything I worked for finally paid off but it also feels like a new beginning."

The journalist nodded, scribbling notes, "and your relationship with Alexia on the pitch, you seemed to have a special connection during the final, was that something you worked on specifically?"

Under the table, Alexia's fingers brushed against yours but even if you wanted you didn't look at her.

"We worked on a lot of things," you said, "trust, communication and learning to read each other, " you paused, "I think that's what made the difference."

Alexia's hand squeezed yours, quick and warm, then let go.

The journalist nodded, scribbling something in their notebook. "One more question. How does it feel to lift the trophy with this team, knowing what you've all been through this season?"

You glanced at Alexia and she was already looking at you, her eyes soft, a small smile on her lips but she didn't say anything cause she didn't need to.

"It feels like everything," you said, "every early morning, every late night, every moment we pushed through when we wanted to give up, it all led to this and I wouldn't want to share it with anyone else."

The rest of the press conference passed in a blur of questions and answers, but you barely registered them cause your mind was still on that moment, the way she'd looked at you, the way the room had gone quiet, the way you'd said "I wouldn't want to share it with anyone else" and meant it with every fiber of your being.

When the conference finally ended, you stood up, your legs shaky, your heart still pounding and you went to find a quiet corner of the hotel lobby, away from the noise.

"That was intense," you said, exhaling.

"You did well, really well," Alexia said as she leaned against the wall, a small smile on her face, "you didn't even flinch at the questions about us."

"I don't know what to say about us cause I don't even know what we are."

Alexia's expression softened, "we're whatever we want to be and there's no rush."

You looked at her, you looked at this woman who had been your idol, your enemy, and now something else entirely, something you didn't have a name for yet.

"I'd like to figure it out," you said, "slowly… but... I'd like to try."

Alexia reached out and took your hand, "that's all I ask."

—-----

The team photoshoot was chaos in the best way.

The hotel had set up a makeshift studio in one of the ballrooms with a Barcelona backdrop, professional lighting, and a photographer who was clearly trying to wrangle a group of athletes who had just won one of the biggest trophies of their lives.

Mapi was already making faces at the camera and Patri was trying to fix her hair and you saw Caro had somehow acquired another sombrero.

You stood near the back, trying to stay out of the way, when Alexia appeared beside you.

"Smile," she said quietly, "it's a good day."

You looked at her, really looked at her and Alexia was glowing and not from the lights or the makeup, but from the sheer joy of the moment cause this was what she'd worked her whole life for, and she was sharing it with you.

"I am smiling," you said.

"Not with your eyes."

You blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Your mouth is smiling but your eyes aren't," Alexia reached up and her fingers brushed your cheek, “try to relax, you've earned this please let yourself enjoy it."

You took a breath and then, for the first time in years, you let yourself smile, really smile for a camera.

The individual photos were next and while waiting Mapi dragged you into the corner, her eyes sharp and her smile knowing, "so," Mapi said, her voice low enough that only you could hear, "you and Alexia."

"What about us?"

"I'm not asking for details. I'm just saying... it's good," she paused, her expression softening, "she's been happier in the last few months than I've seen her in years and I know that's because of you."

You didn't know what to say so you just nodded.

Mapi patted your shoulder. "I'm glad it's you cause you're good for her and she’s good for you" she said “ but if you hurt her, I will kill you, deal?”

You just smiled and nodded, knowing that Mapi cares about you and Alexia.

—

The flight back to Barcelona was long, but it didn't feel like it cause you sat next to Alexia, your shoulders touching and your headphones shared, she was watching something on her phone, and you were pretending to read, but mostly you were just watching her and the way her brow furrowed when she was concentrating or the way she smiled at something on the screen, or the way her hand rested on your knee, warm and steady.

"You're staring," she said without looking up.

"I'm not staring."

"You're literally staring."

"I'm admiring and there's a difference."

Alexia finally looked up, a slow smile spreading across her face, "what do you mean admiring?"

"Admiring," you repeated, holding her gaze, "you're very admirable."

She laughed, a real and open laugh that made a few teammates look over and made Mapi wink at you and Patri grin.

Alexia leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're not so bad yourself."

You felt the warmth of her breath against your ear, and something fluttered in your chest, the kind of flutter you'd forgotten existed, the kind that made you feel like you were seventeen again, watching her on a grainy screen, dreaming of a life you never thought you'd have.

"That's not what you said the first time we met," you whispered back, a teasing edge to your voice.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes sparkling, "cause the first time we met, you tackled me so hard I thought you'd broken my hip."

"I won the ball."

"You also nearly killed me."

"Worth it."

Alexia laughed again, shaking her head, and you felt the tension of the past few days melt away, this was easy and this was right, this was everything you'd never known you were waiting for.

The rest of the flight passed in a haze of quiet conversation and shared headphones, Alexia showed you photos of her family, and you told her stories about your childhood, you talked about everything and nothing, the hours slipping by like minutes and when the plane finally touched down in Barcelona, you felt a pang of loss, not for the flight, but for the bubble you'd been living in.

The next few days were a blur of celebrations, media appearances, and quiet moments stolen between obligations, cause with the season officially over, the team was winding down, there were no more early morning trainings, no more tactical meetings, no more pre match nerves, instead, there were lazy mornings, long lunches, and the strange, unfamiliar sensation of having nothing to do except exist.

You and Alexia had fallen into a rhythm that felt both new and familiar, coffee in the mornings, walks through the city and late night conversations that stretched into the early hours. The team had noticed, of course, even in the midst of the post season chaos.

One afternoon, a few days after the return to Barcelona, you found yourself sitting on a bench in a park near Alexia's apartment, watching the city go by.

"So," Mapi said, appearing out of nowhere and dropping onto the bench beside you. "You and Alexia, it's real, isn't it?"

You didn't hesitate. "Yeah it is."

Mapi nodded slowly, a small smile on her face, "Good cause you deserve it, the both of you," she paused and then added, "she's been different since you arrived much happier and more... present. I don't know what you did, but keep doing it."

You laughed, shaking your head, "I didn't do anything, she's the one who refused to give up on me."

"That's what people do when they care about someone," Mapi finally turned to look at you, her eyes serious, "they don't give up and for what it's worth, I'm glad she didn't."

The weight of her words settled over you, warm and grounding and you thought about all the moments that had led to this, the anger, the silence, the slow unraveling of everything you'd built and now, here you were, sitting on a park bench, talking to a friend, in love with a woman you'd once sworn to hate.

"You're going to make me cry," you said, your voice thick.

Mapi grinned, "Good cause you need it, you have been holding so many things for a long time, it’s good to let go."

—---

A few days later, you arrived at Alexia's apartment to find a small envelope on the kitchen counter, you opened it carefully, pulling out a folded piece of paper and inside, in handwriting you recognized, was a note:

"Coffee? Same place, same time? A."

Later that day, you sat across from Alexia in the café, the same one where it had all started, the café was busy, filled with the usual crowd of early risers and late starters, but you were in your own world. 

"I've been thinking," Alexia said, stirring her coffee.

"Dangerous."

Alexia laughed, "I've been thinking about the final and about that moment when I scored and I looked for you and I didn't even think about it…. I just... needed to find you."

You set down your cup, "I felt that, the way you looked at me and it was like no one else was there."

"Because no one else was," Alexia reached across the table, her fingers finding yours, "not in that moment."

You squeezed her hand, not caring who might see, "me neither."

The silence that followed was comfortable, the kind that didn't need to be filled after Alexia spoke again.

"I want to introduce you to my family," Alexia said finally, "my mother and my sister Alba cause they've been asking about you."

Your heart skipped. "They have?"

"Are you kidding? My mother has been asking for weeks, since she saw the photos from the final, she said you looked lovely." Alexia smiled, "I think she's already planning the wedding."

You laughed, but there was a flutter of nerves in your chest. "I'd like to meet them, I'm nervous, but... I'd like to."

Alexia squeezed your hand, "they'll love you, I promise."

---

The night before the dinner with Alexia's family, you were a wreck.

You'd tried on five different outfits, changed your mind three times, and spent an unnecessary amount of time staring at your reflection in the mirror.

"It's just dinner," you told yourself. "Just dinner with her mother and her sister and probably her grandmother and maybe her uncle and..."

You took a breath cause you were spiraling and in that moment your phone buzzed with a message from Alexia: stop overthinking cause hey're going to love you.

You typed back: how did you know I was overthinking?

Alexia: because I know you and also cause Mapi told me you texted her asking if my mother would like you.

You groaned cause of course Mapi would tease you texting those to Alexia.

You: i'm going to kill her.

Alexia: don't cause she's one of my favorites.

You: i'm your favorite.

Alexia: you're my favorite.

You smiled at the screen, the knot in your chest loosening just a little.

---

The dinner was at a small restaurant in Barcelona, the kind of place where the owner knew the family by name, you arrived early, nervous and fidgeting, waiting outside the entrance as Alexia appeared a few minutes later, her hair loose, wearing a simple dress that made your heart skip.

"Hey," Alexia said, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

"Hey."

"Ready?"

"Terrified but ready."

She took your hand, her fingers warm and steady, "good, let's go meet my family now."

The dinner was perfect, Alexia's mother was warm and welcoming, pulling you into a hug before you'd even sat down and her sister Alba was sharp and funny, teasing Alexia relentlessly about everything from her cooking to her taste in music and her grandmother, who spoke mostly Catalan, looked at you with a knowing smile and said something you didn't understand.

You laughed and you cried a little cause you felt more welcome than you had in years.

At the end of the night, Alexia's mother pulled you aside.

"Take care of her," she said softly, her eyes serious, "she's a good person and she's been through a lot but she's happy now, happier than I've seen her in a long time," she squeezed your hand, "and I think that's because of you."

You didn't know what to say so you just nodded, your eyes wet.

"I will," you managed, "I promise."

That night, you walked home together through the quiet streets of Barcelona, the stars were out, the city lights glittering in the distance. 

Alexia's hand was in yours, warm and steady.

"They loved you," Alexia said.

"I think your grandmother was speaking Catalan and I just nodded and smiled, I didn’t do much else."

"She said you have kind eyes and she was right, she always is."

You laughed, bumping your shoulder against hers, "I had a good night, thank you for letting me be part of this."

Alexia stopped walking, turning to face you, her eyes were soft, her smile gentle, "I'm not 'letting' you be part of anything," she said, "you already are and you've been part of my life for months…. I just... I wanted you to know that this is real and you're not going anywhere and neither am I."

You stood there, in the middle of the street, the city humming around you, and you felt something shift, not the wall coming down, but something settling into place.

"Neither am I," you said, "I'm not going anywhere."

Alexia leaned in, her forehead resting against yours, "good," she whispered, "because I'm not done with you yet."

You smiled, closing your eyes, "good, cause I'm not done with you either."

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, this story has been a journey and not just for the characters, but for me too. It started with a simple idea: what if a moment lost in translation in the middle of a game became the foundation for everything? And it grew into something much bigger, something about forgiveness, trust, and learning to let go of the past.

I wanted to end this on a special note, so I made sure to finish it on the 11th, a little wink to Alexia's number cause it felt right, it felt like the perfect way to close this chapter.

I hope you loved the ending as much as I loved writing it cause these two characters and their anger, their silence, their slow unraveling and finally their healing have become so real to me and I hope they've become real to you too.

For now, I'm going to take some time away to rest and recover, after my cat Princess passed away everything has been harder than I expected, she was my little writing companion and my life companion too, always curled up beside me while I typed and finishing this fic, has been really hard but this is also my tribute to her.

I hope to see you all again soon but for now, take care of yourselves and thank you for being here.

The nearly 2 months that went by between the free kick practice and the Champions League final passed in a blur of early mornings, late nights, and the quiet and unsaid understanding that everything was about to change.

You didn't talk about it, not directly but there was a shift in the air between you and Alexia, a current that hummed beneath every conversation, every coffee and every shared glance across the training pitch, and the tension that had once been sharp and angry had softened into something else, something warmer, something that made your chest ache in ways you didn't have words for.

The team noticed, of course, Mapi had stopped making jokes, which was how you knew it was serious and Patri smiled more, even Pere seemed to ease up on the intensity, as if he could feel the collective weight of the season lifting, there was a quiet confidence in the air, a belief that this was finally the year but no one talked about it, not out loud cause the final was too close, too important, all that mattered was Lyon.

You remembered the first time you'd watched Alexia play in a Champions League final, you were sixteen, sitting on the floor of your childhood bedroom, the stream flickering on your laptop. Lyon had won 3-1 and Alexia had played like she was trying to carry the whole team on her back, and when the final whistle blew, she'd stood in the center of the pitch, her face full of exhaustion and disappointment.

You'd cried for her that night and you'd told yourself she'd get another chance, that she'd win it one day, but you never imagined you'd be there to see it and you never, ever imagined you'd be on the same pitch.

---

The morning of the final, you woke before your alarm.

The hotel room was still dark, the curtains drawn tight against the Spanish sun and you lay there for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, listening to the distant hum of the city outside. Your heart was pounding but not with fear, but with something closer to anticipation.

You reached for your phone and you saw a message from Alexia, sent at 6:03 AM: I'm awake too breakfast?

You smiled and typed back: Meet you in the lobby.

Twenty minutes later, you were sitting across from her in the hotel restaurant, picking at a plate of fruit you weren't hungry for, the restaurant was empty cause the rest of the team wasn't due for another hour.

"You look like you slept," Alexia said, observing you over her coffee.

"I didn't but I faked it well."

She laughed, "I didn't sleep either, I never do the night before a final."

"Any advice?"

Alexia tilted her head, considering her answer before saying, "don't think about the result, think about the moments, the passes, the tackles and the way the grass feels under your boots, if you focus on the small things, the big things take care of themselves."

You nodded, filing the words away.

"And one more thing," Alexia added, her voice softening, "enjoy it, doesn’t matter whatever happens, this is a moment you'll remember forever, don't waste it being scared."

You held her gaze. "I'll try."

She smiled. "That's all anyone can do."

---

The bus ride to the stadium was a blur of music and nervous energy, the team was loud, louder than you'd ever heard them. Mapi was telling a story in rapid Spanish that made everyone laugh and Patri was singing along to something on her phone, and you saw Caro, who was usually calm and composed, tapping her foot, her eyes bright with excitement. You sat in the back, your headphones on, but not listening to anything cause you were watching Alexia. She was near the front of the bus, talking quietly to Irene, her expression calm and focused, she looked like she'd done this a hundred times before, which, you supposed, she had but when she glanced back at you, her eyes softened and Alexia gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod.

We've got this.

You nodded back.

The stadium was a cauldron of sound as you stood in the tunnel, the Champions League anthem swelling around you, your heart pounding in your chest. The lights were bright, the noise deafening, the air thick with anticipation and you could smell the grass, the sweat, the tension, it was everything you'd ever imagined and more.

Lyon's players were lined up across from you, tall, composed, dangerous and you recognized a few of them, the ones who'd been here before, the ones who'd won this trophy multiple times, you were the underdog, you'd always been the underdog but you weren't scared.

A hand brushed against yours and you glanced down and you saw Alexia's fingers had grazed yours, not a grip, just a touch, and in that moment, you didn’t feel alone, you looked up and she was staring straight ahead, her expression unreadable but her hand stayed close to yours, just barely touching.

I'm here, it seemed to say, we're in this together.

The anthem ended and the crowd roared and then the referee was walking onto the pitch, and it was time.

The first half was brutal.

Lyon pressed high, their midfield relentless, their defense impenetrable and every time you thought you'd found a gap, it closed. Every time you made a tackle, they were right back at you, the score stayed 0-0, but it felt like you were losing.

At halftime, you sat in the locker room, your legs burning, your lungs aching and the team was quiet, too quiet, you could feel the doubt creeping in, the old whispers of you don't belong here but then Alexia stood up, she didn't shout, she didn't give a speech full of platitudes, she just looked at the team, her eyes steady, and said, "I've been here before, we have been here before and I know what it feels like to lose this game and I'm not going to let it happen again."

She looked directly at you.

"We're better than them, we've always been better, all we need to do is just believe it."

You met her gaze, and for the first time that day, you believed.

The second half started like the first, relentless, brutal, unforgiving.

Lyon came out with renewed intensity, their forwards pressing high, their midfield cutting off every passing lane and you could feel the weight of the occasion pressing down on your shoulders, the years of history, the expectations of a club that had waited too long for this moment but you weren't the same player who'd walked onto the pitch five years ago, trembling and unsure, you weren't even the same player who'd arrived in Barcelona months ago, angry and closed off, you were something else now, something stronger.

You made a tackle in the 52nd minute, a sliding challenge that stopped a Lyon counter attack, the ball bounced off your shin and rolled to Patri, who launched it forward and the crowd roared, you got to your feet, your lungs burning, and you saw Alexia glance back at you from the midfield.

She nodded. 

Just once. 

But it was enough.

The first goal came in the 67th minute.

Alexia received the ball just outside the Lyon penalty area, her back to the goal, and a defender pressed tight against her, you'd seen this moment a thousand times, in videos, in your dreams, in the poster that had hung above your bed, you saw Alexia dropped her shoulder, feinted left, and then spun right, the defender stumbling as she created just enough space.

The shot was a rocket, low, driven, curling into the far corner before the goalkeeper could even react.

The stadium exploded.

Alexia ran toward the corner flag, her arms outstretched, her face split with joy and the whole team swarmed her, a tangle of red and blue and pure, unfiltered euphoria.

And then she looked up.

She looked at you.

You were still standing near the edge of the penalty area, your hands on your knees, your chest heaving and she was walking toward you, weaving through the celebrating players, her eyes fixed on yours and when she reached you, she didn't speak, she just grabbed your face with both hands, her palms warm against your cheeks, and said, "We're not done yet."

You nodded, unable to speak.

She let go, and the celebration continued, but for that one moment, it had been just the two of you.

The second goal came in the 83rd minute and it was yours.

A corner kick from Patri, swinging into the box and you'd timed your run perfectly, losing your marker with a sharp cut across the penalty area, the ball met your forehead, and you redirected it past the goalkeeper, into the back of the net.

You didn't even realize you'd scored until the stadium roared.

Then you were on the ground, and someone was on top of you and then more bodies, and you couldn't breathe, but you didn't care, because you'd just scored in a Champions League final.

And then Alexia was there, pulling you to your feet, her arms around you, her voice in your ear.

"I told you," she said, her voice cracking with emotion, "I told you you were incredible."

You held onto her for a moment longer than necessary, your face buried in her shoulder, the noise of the crowd fading into the background.

"One more," you said. "We need one more."

She pulled back, her eyes shining. "Let's get it."

The third goal never came but it didn't matter, Barcelona won 2-1, and when the final whistle blew, the stadium erupted into chaos.

You dropped to your knees, your legs finally giving out, your head bowed, tears were streaming down your face, you weren't sure when they'd started and you couldn't stop them.

You were a Champions League winner.

The trophy ceremony was a blur of lights and confetti and the weight of the cup in your hands. You lifted it with the rest of the team, your arms aching, your voice hoarse from shouting. Mapi was crying, Patri was laughing and Caro was hugging everyone in sight.

And Alexia, Alexia was standing at the front, the captain's armband still around her bicep, her face lifted to the sky, the trophy held high above her head, she looked like she'd been waiting for this moment for a while and in a way, she had.

When she lowered the trophy, she turned to you, and she made a gesture, a small, almost imperceptible wave, and you walked toward her, weaving through the celebrating players.

She pulled you into a hug, the trophy still between you, the weight of it pressing against your chest, "this belongs to you too," she said, "every bit of it."

You didn't know what to say, so you just held on.

The celebration moved to the locker room, then to a private room at a restaurant nearby. Champagne was sprayed, music was played, and the team danced and laughed and cried until their voices were hoarse, you found a quiet corner, watching the chaos unfold. Mapi was leading an impromptu conga line, Patri was doing shots with the coaching staff, and Caro had somehow acquired a giant sombrero and was wearing it with pride.

And then Alexia appeared beside you, a glass of champagne in her hand, "not joining the conga line?" she asked.

"I'm a defender, we don't do conga lines."

"Good point." She took a sip of her champagne, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

"I've been thinking about what you said before," you said finally.

"What did I say?"

"About enjoying it, about not wasting it being scared." You paused. "I think I finally understand what you meant."

Alexia's expression softened. "And?"

"I'm not scared anymore." You looked at her and said, "I'm just... happy."

Alexia smiled, that small, genuine smile that you'd come to recognize, the one she saved for moments like this, "me too."

The celebration wound down slowly and one by one, the team drifted away, heading to their rooms or their flights or their families and by the time the sun began to rise, it was just the two of you, standing on the rooftop of the restaurant, looking out at the city below, the night was cool, the sky clear, the stars bright enough to see despite the city lights. You could hear the distant hum of traffic, the faint sound of someone's radio drifting from a nearby window.

"I don't want this night to end," you said quietly.

"It doesn't have to," Alexia said, "not yet."

She reached out and took your hand it was not a quick gesture, but a slow, deliberate one as her fingers laced through yours, warm and steady.

"Come with me," she said.

You followed her through the quiet hotel corridors, past the reception desk, past the lifts, until she stopped at a door on the top floor and Alexia swiped her keycard and pushed it open, revealing a spacious room with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city.

"This is yours?" you asked.

"Ours," she corrected softly, "for tonight."

The room was warm, the lights dim, the city lights glittering through the glass and a small balcony jutted out from the windows, and she led you there, the two of you standing together, the city sprawled out below.

"Thank you," you said.

"For what?"

"For everything, for not giving up on me, for being patient, for..." you paused, searching for the right words before continuing, "for showing me that I didn't have to hate you."

Alexia turned to face you, her expression open and vulnerable. "I didn't do anything special, I just..."

"You just stayed," you finished for her, “you stayed even when I tried to push you away, even when I was angry and cold and impossible, you stayed."

Alexia didn't answer, she didn't have to.

The moment stretched between you, fragile and you could hear your own heartbeat, steady and sure.

"I don't want to be scared anymore," you said, "not of you, not of this….not of anything."

Alexia's eyes searched yours. "What do you want?"

You thought about the answer, but it was already there, waiting. "I want to stop running. I want to stop hiding…. I want..."

You didn't finish the sentence cause you didn't need to and Alexia stepped closer, her hand coming up to cup your face, her thumb brushing across your cheekbone, her eyes were soft, her smile gentle.

"Then stay," she whispered.

And you did.

Alexia turned to you, her eyes soft in the dim light. "Do you remember the first time we talked? like really talked, at the café?"

You nodded, "yes I remember perfectly, you asked me how I took my coffee."

"I was so nervous," she admitted, a small smile playing on her lips, "I'd been trying to find a way to reach you for weeks and then you just... sat there and I thought this is it, this is the moment I finally get to know her for real.'"

"You were nervous?"

"Terrified." Alexia laughed quietly, "you had this wall around you, and I didn't know how to break through so after thinking a lot, I asked about coffee cause it was the only thing I could think of."

You smiled. "It worked."

"Did it?"

You thought about the months that had passed since that moment, the coffees, the notes, the training sessions, the slow figuring out of everything you'd built, "yeah," you said, "it did."

The silence that followed was different from the silences of the past, it wasn't heavy with unsaid words or thick with resentment, it was soft, comfortable, like a blanket you'd been waiting your whole life to wrap around yourself.

Alexia reached out, her fingers brushing against yours, "I'm glad it was you," she said quietly, "I'm glad it was you who came to Barcelona, I'm glad it was you who stayed and I'm glad it was you who..." she trailed off, her eyes searching yours.

You knew what she meant cause you felt it too.

The cool night air seemed to stand still as you both stepped back inside, the transition from the balcony to the warmth of the hotel room was seamless, but the real shift was in the way she looked at you, stripped of the past, raw, and completely present.

You closed the distance between you two, breaking the final barrier and in no time what began as a soft hello kiss, a quiet reassurance that you were both finally on the same side, instantly ignited into a desperate, aching need that had been buried for months. Your hands moved instinctively to cup Alexia’s face, your fingers tangling in the dark waves of her hair, while her arms wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you flush against her.

You parted just a fraction of an inch, your lips brushing hers as you whispered against her skin, "The wall, it’s gone now."

That confession seemed to break something open in her as Alexia didn't reply with words and instead, she guided you backward without breaking the kiss, her steps certain and deliberate until your back met the firm safety of the wall. There was no harshness in it, only a fierce, protective possessiveness that took your breath away, she was holding you securely by the waist, she lifted you a few inches off the floor, prompting you to wrap your legs around her hips as she pinned you gently against the surface.

"Put your hands above your head, corazon," Alexia murmured, her voice a low, raspy command that sent a shiver straight down your spine.

You obeyed without a second thought, pressing your palms against the wall above you, completely surrendering your control to her. Alexia secured both of your wrists with just one of her hands, holding them in place, not to trap you, but to remind you that you were entirely safe to let go and the weight of her body pressing into yours felt like the perfect, grounding anchor. Her free hand traveled slowly down your side, tracing your curves before slipping between your bodies as she pressed firmly over your pants, her touch agonizingly deliberate. A sharp moan escaped your lips, and you leaned in to find her mouth to muffle it, but Alexia kissed you with a torturous slow pace as she was savoring your impatience, forcing you to feel the agonizingly perfect friction of her hand against you.

Driven by the heat building inside you, you began to shift your hips, trying to chase the friction, but Alexia stopped you with a firm, steady pressure of her thigh. "If you don’t stop moving, I will stop," she breathed against your mouth, "wait for me and let me take care of you."

You stilled instantly, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

"Alexia, please... don't make me wait," you pleaded in a ragged whisper, entirely undone by the look in her eyes.

Seeing your vulnerability only filled Alexia with a deeper warmth and with practiced, gentle fingers, she unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, refusing to rush. She slid her hand beneath the fabric, finding your underwear completely soaked as a quiet, breathless groan escaped Alexia’s throat at the realization of how badly you wanted her.

"Look at me," Alexia requested softly, her eyes searching yours in the dim light, "tell me what you need, use your words corazon."

"You..." you managed to breathe out, your cheeks flushing but your gaze locked onto hers, "I want to feel you….. really feel you…. with no barriers."

A breathtakingly tender smile touched Alexia’s lips as she pulled the lace of your underwear aside, erasing the final distance between you, her thumb found your sensitive center with a perfect, rhythmic stroke, while her fingers slid inside you with an ease that made you arch your back against the wall. Your moans filled the quiet room, a melody she drank in, pressing soft, adoring kisses along your jawline and neck as she guided you closer to the edge. When the climax finally broke over you, it felt like pure redemption as you clung to her shoulders as your body trembled, letting go of five years of distance, anger, and pain in one beautiful moment.

With immense care, Alexia lowered you back down, supporting your weight until your feet found the floor and before your knees could buckle, she swept you up into her arms, carrying you over to the living room couch as if you were the most precious thing she had ever held. She sat down beside you, pulling you immediately into her chest and you snuggled close, resting your head on her shoulder, your arms wrapping tightly around her body. The silence that followed was the most peaceful either of you had known in years, punctuated only by the synchronized, steady thumping of your heartbeats.

"I love you," you whispered into her ear, the words settling into the quiet air.

Alexia leaned down and kissed your forehead with deep reverence. "I love you too, so much."

A spark of playful energy returned to you in the comforting aftermath and you lifting your head, you looked into her eyes and let a small, devious smile play on your lips and the desire between you hadn't vanished, it had simply shifted into something different.

"Your turn," you purred softly, "lie back."

Alexia smiled, shifting her weight to lie back against the couch, her head resting on the armrest as she watched you with wide eyes completely surrendered to you. Her hair was a beautifully disheveled mess against the cushion and you paused for a fraction of a second just to admire her, reminding yourself that this incredible woman chose you and fought to have you, before climbing over her to kiss her with devotion.

Your hands slipped beneath her shirt, caressing the warmth of her skin, as your fingers reached the clasp of her bra, she arched her back slightly, making it easy for you to unhook it and free her breasts to your touch, Alexia gasped into the kiss as your fingers traced and teased her nipples, and you responded by dragging your lips downward, you took your time along her jaw, her throat, and her collarbone, paying deliberate attention to the sensitive spots you were discovering she loved, drawing loud, breathless moans from her. You trailed your kisses down to her stomach, slowly pulling her pants and underwear down, leaving her skin entirely bare to the soft glow of the room and when your lips finally found her center, Alexia inhaled sharply, her fingers instantly finding yours and intertwining them tightly against the cushions as she sought an anchor.

You moved with tenderness and intent, using your lips and tongue to worship her, turning every broken sigh she uttered into a promise that you weren't going anywhere. Her quiet whimpers turned into louder, breathless cries, her body tensing beautifully under your touch until she finally reached her peak and you held her through the crest of it, soothing her with gentle strokes until her breathing slowed and she melted completely into the couch, you climbed back up to lie beside her, pulling her close in the narrow space and you lay there hand in hand, chests rising and falling in perfect unison, wrapped in the quiet certainty that you were finally, truly whole.

As the morning light crept through the curtains, soft and golden, you woke slowly, your body warm and heavy with the kind of sleep that came from feeling safe and for a moment, you didn't remember where you were but then you felt the weight of an arm draped across your waist, the warmth of a body pressed against your back, and you remembered everything.

You turned your head, careful not to wake her, Alexia's face was relaxed in sleep, her lips slightly parted, her hair a mess of dark waves against the pillow, she looked younger like this unguarded and peaceful.

You watched her for a long moment, letting yourself feel the weight of what had happened, not just the night before, but everything, all the months of silence and anger and the slow unraveling of the wall, the confession, the forgiveness and the trust.

You reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She stirred, her eyes fluttering open and for a second, she looked confused but then Alexia saw you, and her face broke into a slow, sleepy smile.

"Hey," she murmured.

"Hey."

"Did you sleep?"

"Better than I have in years."

She shifted closer, resting her head on your shoulder and her arm tightened around your waist, pulling you against her.

"Me too," she said softly.

You lay there together, the morning sun painting patterns on the ceiling and the city humming faintly outside. There was no rush to get up, no pressure to fill the silence with words, you just existed, together, in the quiet aftermath of something you hadn't known you were waiting for.

"I don't want to move," you admitted.

"Then don't."

"What about all the media things we have to do?"

"That can wait,” Alexia pressed a kiss to your shoulder, "this can't."

You smiled, closing your eyes and for the first time in five years, you didn't feel like you were running, you felt like you were home.

Hours later, you finally emerged from the bedroom.

Alexia was already in the kitchen, making coffee, dressed in an oversized shirt that you were pretty sure was yours and she turned when she heard you, a mug in each hand.

"Black, no sugar," she said, handing you one.

"You remembered."

"I remember everything."

You took the mug, your fingers brushing hers as the warmth spread through your chest, settling somewhere deep and permanent.

"So what now?" you asked.

Alexia leaned against the counter, considering. "I don't know cause I've never really done this before."

"Done what?"

"This…… us." she smiled, a little shy, "I've won trophies, I've scored goals and I've done all the things I'm supposed to do….. but this..." she gestured between the two of you, "this is new."

"Terrifying new?"

"Terrifyingly good new."

You laughed, and she joined you, the sound filling the small kitchen. it felt easy, it felt right.

"Then we figure it out together," you said.

Alexia set down her mug and walked toward you, her hands finding yours, "together," she repeated, "I like the sound of that."

Alexia leaned in, her forehead resting against yours. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For staying, for trusting me and for letting me in."

You closed your eyes, letting her words settle into your bones, "thank you for not giving up on me."