A/N: this has been sitting in my folder for probably 2 weeks unfinished. I had planned on adding more but never really got around to it. No this doesn’t mean I’m fully back. I’m still taking a break but figured I would post this before it got lost.
One morning, Paige woke up before the sun could even think about rising. She knew in her heart that today would be special but couldn’t quite say why. She and Azzi had an early practice that morning. Paige quietly slipped from the hold that a sleeping Azzi had on her, careful to not wake the brunette. She made her way into their kitchen and started cooking. Cooking wasn’t her strong suit but she could make eggs which Azzi loved.
About 10 minutes later, breakfast was complete. Paige made her way into their shared bedroom to wake Azzi. She gently shook the girl with one hand and with the other she brushed a piece of loose hair from the girl's face.
“Good morning sleepy girl.”
Azzi moved like she was going to stretch and immediately flipped onto her side, facing the blonde.
Paige smirked at the sleepiness in the girl's voice. “Come on Az. I made you some eggs with cottage cheese and cut some fruit. We gotta hurry and eat so we aren’t late for practice.”
Azzi groaned but followed Paige anyway. They sat on the couch eating in a peaceful silence. Once they were done they got dressed and headed out the door.
Practice went smoothly. Both girls were tired but that wasn’t new. They’re walking home at an easy pace, hands linked like the world outside of their bubble didn’t exist. The evening air is cooler, quieter than the gym had been.
Paige notices immediately. “What?”
Azzi tilts her head toward a storefront ahead.
Warm lighting inside. Mannequins in soft white and ivory. One of those windows that looks like it’s trying to sell a version of a future.
“Can we look?” Azzi asks casually, like she’s asking to grab coffee.
Paige follows her gaze, then back to her.
“Yeah,” she says without hesitation. “We can look.”
Azzi smiles and tugs her gently inside.
The shop is quiet in that soft, expensive way. Music playing low. Fabric everywhere that looks like it was designed to make people think about forever.
Paige is immediately less comfortable in here than she was in a gym full of shouting people.
Azzi, on the other hand, looks completely at ease.
She wanders slowly past the racks, fingertips brushing fabric, expression curious and soft.
Paige follows her, still holding her hand.
“You good?” Paige asks quietly.
Azzi hums. “Yeah. Just looking.”
Paige feels it before she even asks.
Azzi is staring at one dress.
Simple, elegant, clean lines. Nothing overly dramatic, but something about it catches the light in a way that makes it feel like it belongs on someone walking into a new chapter of their life.
Azzi doesn’t speak for a second.
Paige watches her face instead.
“…You like it,” Paige says.
Azzi blinks like she got caught. “It’s just pretty.”
Paige steps closer, studying it once, then looks back at Azzi.
Azzi immediately shakes her head. “No.”
Paige doesn’t even blink. “Yes.”
Azzi laughs once. “Paige-”
“Try it on,” Paige repeats, softer but firm.
Finally, Azzi sighs. “You’re going to be insufferable about this.”
Paige nods once. “Probably.”
That gets a reluctant smile out of Azzi.
A few minutes later, Azzi steps out of the fitting room.
And Paige stops breathing for a second.
It’s subtle at first, how still she goes.
Like her brain needs a moment to catch up with what she’s seeing.
Azzi looks down slightly, smoothing the fabric. “Okay, don’t freak out.”
Paige doesn’t respond right away.
The way the dress sits on her. The way it softens everything without hiding her. The way she looks like she belongs in something like this without even trying.
Azzi shifts slightly under her gaze. “Paige?”
“Yeah,” she says quietly.
Azzi raises an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound reassuring.”
Still not touching her yet.
Just close enough that Azzi has to look up at her.
“You look…” Paige pauses, searching, then gives up on finding anything complicated. “Really beautiful.”
Azzi’s expression softens instantly.
“I think that’s the point of the dress,” she says lightly.
Paige shakes her head once. “No.”
Paige finally reaches out, gently adjusting the sleeve near Azzi’s shoulder like she needs to ground herself in something real.
“It’s not the dress,” she says.
Paige’s voice drops a little more.
Azzi’s smile fades into something quieter, more emotional.
Behind them, the shop feels suddenly distant. Like it stopped being a store and became something else entirely for a second.
Azzi swallows. “You’re not supposed to say things like that so casually.”
Paige shrugs slightly. “I’m not being casual.”
Azzi studies her face for a long second.
Then, softly: “You’re staring.”
Azzi laughs quietly, but there’s emotion underneath it. “You’re gonna make me keep it.”
Azzi shakes her head, smiling now, but her eyes are soft in a way that gives her away.
“You’re dangerous,” she murmurs.
Paige steps just a little closer.
“Yeah?” she says quietly. “Or just honest?”
Azzi looks up at her, completely caught now.
And for a moment, neither of them says anything.
Because the idea of weddings, of dresses like this, of futures that feel too big to say out loud—
It doesn’t feel scary anymore, like how it did when they had first gotten together.
“I’m not taking it off yet,” she says softly.
Paige’s expression softens immediately.
No pressure. No rush. No performance.
Just staying in the moment with her.
Azzi reaches for her hand again, still in the dress, still standing in the middle of a shop that suddenly feels way too aware of them.
“You’re staring again,” she says quietly.
“Yeah,” she admits. “I probably will for a while.”
And this time, she doesn’t tell her to stop.
The shop owner pretends very hard not to be watching them.
Because Paige is still standing there like Azzi just rewrote something in her brain that she didn’t know could be rewritten.
Azzi shifts slightly in the dress, suddenly a little more aware of the moment now that it’s lingering.
“…Okay,” she says softly, trying to ground it, “you can stop staring at me like I’m about to walk down an aisle right now.”
Paige blinks once, like she’s pulling herself back into reality.
“I wasn’t thinking that,” she says automatically.
“…I mean,” she corrects, quieter, “I wasn’t only thinking that.”
Azzi laughs under her breath. “Paige.”
Paige finally exhales, running a hand lightly through her hair like she’s resetting herself.
“You look really good,” she says again, more grounded now. “That’s all.”
Azzi steps closer, still in the dress, still barefoot in the fitting room slippers, and gently taps Paige’s chest with one finger.
There’s something softer in her expression now than there was in the gym. Less intensity. More quiet certainty.
“I just like seeing you like that,” she admits.
Azzi’s voice softens. “Like what?”
Paige doesn’t hesitate this time.
“Happy,” she says simply. “And… like you aren’t terrified of what the future holds.”
That hits Azzi in a way she doesn’t fully expect.
Her teasing expression fades into something more vulnerable.
“I don’t run away from you,” she says quietly.
Paige nods immediately. “I know.”
Then Paige steps slightly closer, lowering her voice.
“And I’m not running either.”
Azzi studies her face for a second, like she’s checking if she still means that in the same way she did yesterday. Or in the gym. Or in every version of this they’ve been stepping into.
Paige doesn’t flinch under it.
“…Okay,” she says softly.
Then, almost shy again, she looks down at the dress.
“I kind of don’t want to take it off now.”
Paige glances at it, then back at her immediately.
Azzi laughs lightly. “We’re not buying a wedding dress, Paige.”
Paige shrugs. “We could.”
Azzi immediately points at her. “No.”
That gets them both smiling again.
From the counter, the shop owner, Maya, finally clears her throat gently, like she’s been giving them emotional space and now needs to reclaim her business.
Azzi looks over, then back at Paige.
“Okay,” she says softly, still smiling. “I’m gonna change.”
Paige nods, but her eyes linger a second longer than necessary.
And right before she disappears back into the fitting room, she reaches out and lightly squeezes Paige’s hand.
“I’m still right here,” she says quietly.
Paige squeezes back once.
And for once, she actually believes how simple that sounds.
After Paige and Azzi left that day, the shop felt different to Maya.
Not because anything dramatic had happened in the store, but because she’d seen the way they looked at each other.
Like the world had quietly narrowed down to just one person.
When Azzi had changed out of the dress, Maya had already known.
So she took it off the rack.
And she didn’t put it back.
She bagged it, labeled it, and stored it in the back like something worth waiting for.
Because some things don’t feel like inventory.
A year later, Azzi walks back into the shop alone.
The bell above the door chimes softly, and for a moment she just stands there, scanning the room like she’s stepping into a memory she hasn’t fully revisited in a while.
The ring on her hand still catches her off guard sometimes, like she forgets, for half a second, that her life actually turned into something she used to only quietly hope for.
She walks slowly through the racks.
Brows furrowing slightly.
The exact spot it used to hang is empty.
Azzi’s stomach drops in a way she didn’t expect.
“No,” she whispers to herself.
She walks closer, checking the surrounding racks, like maybe it was moved, like maybe she just missed it.
“Excuse me,” she calls gently to the front counter. “The dress that was here last year… the ivory one.”
The employee looks confused. “Oh, we don’t have that anymore, I think it was-”
Azzi’s chest tightens further.
“Oh,” she says quietly interrupting.
She nods once, stepping back.
It shouldn’t matter this much.
It was the first time everything felt real in a different way.
Her hand drops slightly at her side as she turns toward the door.
And just as she reaches for the door handle-
From the back room, a woman steps out quickly, holding something carefully covered in a garment bag.
She looks like she’s been waiting for this moment.
“Don’t leave yet,” the shop owner says, slightly out of breath. “I knew you’d come back.”
The woman walks closer, holding the bag like it matters.
“My name’s Maya,” she says gently. “I was here the day you tried this on.”
Maya smiles faintly. “And I’ve been waiting for you to come back for it ever since.”
Azzi looks down at the bag, confused and slowly overwhelmed.
“I don’t understand,” she says quietly. “I thought it was gone.”
“I took it off the floor the same day,” she explains. “I didn’t put it back on the rack. I just… kept it.”
Azzi’s eyes lift sharply. “Why?”
Maya pauses, like the answer should be obvious but still deserves to be said properly.
“Because I’ve worked here a long time,” she says softly. “And I’ve learned the difference between a dress someone tries on… and a dress someone comes back for.”
Azzi’s breath catches slightly.
Maya continues, voice gentler now.
“You didn’t leave that day like it was just fabric,” she says. “You left like it was a moment you weren’t ready for yet.”
Maya tilts her head slightly. “So I kept it safe. I had a feeling your story with it wasn’t finished.”
Then she holds the bag out.
“And I think I was right.”
Azzi stares at it for a second longer, emotions building in her chest in a way she doesn’t fully expect.
“…I’m engaged now,” she says quietly.
Maya smiles immediately. “I know.”
Maya nods toward Azzi’s hand. “I follow happy endings when I see them starting.”
Azzi lets out a soft breath, almost a laugh through emotion.
Like it still means something.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Some things,” she says gently, “are just waiting for the right person to come back for them.”
Azzi holds the bag close for a second longer than she means to.
And as she steps out of the shop again, she doesn’t feel like she’s revisiting the past.
She feels like she’s carrying it forward.
Azzi doesn’t open the bag right away.
She stands outside the shop for a moment, just holding it, fingers lightly gripping the hanger inside through the fabric like she needs proof it’s real.
The street is the same as it was a year ago.
Azzi stares at the message for a second, then looks back at the bag in her hands.
Paige: what kind of something
Azzi smiles a little to herself.
She looks up at the shop window again.
Then back down at the bag.
And instead of answering right away, she starts walking.
When she gets home, Paige is in the kitchen.
Barefoot. Hair slightly messy. Probably been trying to cook something she’ll pretend didn’t stress her out.
Paige looks up the second Azzi walks in.
“You were gone a while,” she says, casual but immediately attentive. “Everything okay?”
Azzi doesn’t answer right away.
She just sets the garment bag gently on the couch.
Paige’s eyes follow it instantly.
Azzi exhales softly, like she’s still deciding how to explain the fact that her emotions have been fully hijacked by a piece of fabric.
“I went back to the dress shop,” she says.
Azzi walks over to the couch and slowly unzips the bag.
Paige watches carefully now, expression shifting from confusion to recognition the moment the fabric starts to show.
“…No way,” Paige says quietly.
“They kept it,” she says. “Maya, the shop owner, she-she kept it the whole time.”
Paige walks closer, stopping just behind her.
Azzi pulls the dress out carefully.
Same fabric. Same softness. Same feeling of something that once made them both stop and look at each other differently.
Paige doesn’t speak for a second.
Then, quietly: “You look like you’re about to cry.”
Azzi laughs softly. “I might be.”
Paige steps up beside her, eyes still on the dress.
“Why did she keep it?” she asks.
Azzi looks down at it, then at Paige.
“Because she said I was going to come back for it.”
Paige blinks once. “She said that?”
Paige exhales slowly, almost disbelieving. “That’s insane.”
Paige turns slightly toward her. “Are you glad she did?”
“Yes,” she says softly. “Because I think I understand it better now.”
Paige watches her carefully.
“I thought I liked it because it was just a pretty dress,” she says. “But it wasn’t really about that.”
Paige’s voice softens. “What was it about?”
Azzi looks up at her fiancé.
“It was the first time I saw what my life with you might feel like,” she says simply. “Before I even knew I was allowed to want it.”
Paige doesn’t move for a second.
Then she steps closer and gently takes Azzi’s hand.
“You were always allowed,” she says quietly.
Azzi squeezes her hand back. “I know that now.”
Paige glances at the dress again, then back at her.
“And now?” she asks softly.
Azzi smiles a little wider.
“Now I don’t need it to imagine it anymore.”
Paige’s expression softens completely at that.
Azzi leans into her slightly, still holding the dress between them.
“But I kind of want to keep it anyway,” she adds lightly.
Paige nods immediately. “We’re keeping it.”
Azzi laughs. “You didn’t even hesitate.”
Paige shrugs. “It’s part of the story.”
Azzi looks up at her again, something warm settling in her chest.
“Yeah,” she says softly. “It is.”
And as they stand there together ,ringed hands, old dress, shared history folding neatly into something steady and real, it doesn’t feel like the past catching up to them.
It feels like it finally found where it belongs.
Paige walks into the shop the next day expecting something simple.
A quick thank you. A conversation. Maybe even a light moment about how “Maya was right.”
She still has Azzi’s handprint in her memory from last night, the way Azzi held that dress like it mattered beyond fabric, beyond time.
The bell above the door chimes softly.
“Hey,” Paige says to the girl at the front desk. “I’m looking for Maya.”
And something in her expression shifts immediately.
Paige notices it instantly.
“…She’s not here?” Paige asks, slower now.
“No,” she says quietly. “She… she passed away last night.”
The words don’t land at first.
Paige just stares at her.
The girl’s voice softens even more, careful. “In her sleep. It was peaceful.”
The shop suddenly feels too still.
Doesn’t blink for a second too long.
“…Last night?” she repeats, almost like it doesn’t compute.
And then quickly reaches under the counter.
“She left something,” she adds gently. “For you and Azzi. She said… just in case she didn’t get to see the dress find its way home properly.”
Paige’s chest tightens instantly.
The girl slides a small envelope and a neatly folded paper bag across the counter.
Paige takes them carefully.
Her hands feel colder than they should.
She doesn’t open anything yet.
Just stands there for a second, processing the shift in the air.
Because Maya was just, here.
The girl watches her quietly. “I’m really sorry.”
Paige nods once, but it’s automatic. Detached. Like her brain hasn’t caught up to the emotional weight yet.
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “Me too.”
She turns and walks out before she even realizes she’s moving.
Outside, the air hits differently.
Paige leans against the side of the building for a second, finally opening the envelope.
Inside is a handwritten note.
If you’re reading this, then I didn’t make it long enough to tell you this in person.
I’ve worked in this shop long enough to know when something is real. And the two of you? That was real the moment you walked in together.
Azzi looked at that dress like she was meeting a version of herself she wasn’t ready for yet.
And you looked at her like you already knew she’d come back for it.
So I kept it safe. Not because it was expensive. But because it mattered.
Some people come into a shop looking for a dress.
Some people come in already halfway into a life.
You two were the second kind.
Paige doesn’t realize she’s been holding her breath until she finishes reading.
She lowers the paper slowly.
The dress bag sits beside her, suddenly heavier than before.
Because of someone who saw something in them before they even fully understood it themselves, and made space for it anyway.
Paige looks down at the note again.
Then back at the shop window.
“Thank you,” she says under her breath.
Not sure if she means it to the building.
Or just to the idea that someone believed in them that early.
She walks home differently than she walked in.
Like something just became part of their story that they didn’t get to choose, but still get to carry forward.
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