#aitana

"You're doing it again," Aitana said, glancing over from the driver's seat with amusement.

"Doing what?"

"That thing where you look at me like you can't believe I'm real." Aitana reached over to squeeze YN's hand where it rested on the center console. "I'm very real. And very much your girlfriend."

YN felt heat climb her neck. "I wasn't—"

"You were," Aitana grinned. "You've been doing it for three weeks. It's cute, but eventually you're going to have to accept that this is actually happening."

"I've accepted it," YN protested, though she absolutely had not fully accepted it. Every morning she woke up and had to remind herself that the woman she'd been pining over for months was now her actual girlfriend who texted her good morning and kissed her goodbye and said things like "I'm very much your girlfriend" with casual certainty.

They were on their way to training, just like any other Tuesday, except now they carpooled together and Aitana had a habit of reaching over to hold YN's hand at stoplights, and sometimes they arrived early just to steal a few extra minutes alone in the parking lot.

Like now.

Aitana pulled into their usual spot and turned off the engine, but made no move to get out. Instead, she turned to face YN with that soft expression that still made YN's heart do complicated things.

"Good morning kiss?" Aitana asked, though she was already leaning in.

YN met her halfway, and even after three weeks of being allowed to do this, it still felt like a small miracle every time. Aitana kissed like she did everything else—with focus and enthusiasm and an attention to detail that made YN forget temporarily where they were.

"We're going to be late," YN murmured against Aitana's lips, though she made no move to pull away.

"We're early," Aitana corrected, deepening the kiss for another moment before pulling back with obvious reluctance. "But you're right. If we stay here any longer, Mapi will definitely come looking for us with a camera."

As if summoned by the mention of her name, Mapi's face suddenly appeared at the passenger window, pressed against the glass with exaggerated interest.

"GOOD MORNING, LOVEBIRDS!" Mapi shouted through the window. "HAVING A NICE MOMENT?"

YN jumped, pulling away from Aitana so fast she nearly hit her head on the roof of the car.

"Mapi!" Aitana called, rolling down the window. "Personal space!"

"What personal space? You're in a public parking lot making out at 8:30 in the morning." Mapi grinned, clearly delighted with herself. "I'm just here to remind you that training exists and also that some of us are living vicariously through your relationship and need updates."

"Updates on what?" YN asked, finally recovering from the surprise.

"Everything. The date last weekend. The Instagram post that broke the internet. Whether you've said the L-word yet." Mapi waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"We literally just got here," Aitana pointed out.

"And yet you're already behind on your gossip quota." Mapi stepped back as they gathered their bags. "Come on. Alexia's calling a team meeting and you know how she gets when people are late."

As they walked toward the facility, YN was hyperaware of Aitana beside her—close enough to touch, which was still novel enough to make YN's heart race. When Aitana's hand brushed against hers, YN didn't hesitate before linking their fingers together.

"Still can't believe you're allowed to do that," Patri said, appearing on YN's other side. "Like, publicly. Without having a crisis about it."

"I'm not having a crisis," YN replied.

"You had a crisis every day for six months," Patri reminded her. "The crisis was your defining characteristic."

"That's not—"

"She's right," Alba interjected, joining their growing group. "Your crisis era was legendary. We have documentation."

"Why does everyone keep documenting my life?"

"Because it's entertaining," Pina said cheerfully, bouncing up to complete their ensemble. "Also because we invested months into getting you two together and we want to make sure you're appropriately happy."

"We're happy," Aitana confirmed, squeezing YN's hand. "Very happy."

"Scale of one to ten?" Mapi asked.

"Mapi, that's not—"

"Eleven," Aitana said simply, and YN felt her chest warm at the casual sincerity.

The chaos squad exchanged satisfied looks.

"Excellent," Patri nodded. "That's exactly where you should be three weeks in."

"You have a timeline for appropriate happiness levels?" YN asked.

"We have a timeline for everything," Alba replied. "First date, first kiss, first 'I love you,' first fight, first vacation—"

"First fight?" YN interrupted, looking at Aitana with concern.

"Ignore them," Aitana said, though she was smiling. "They're just invested in our relationship milestones."

"Extremely invested," Mapi confirmed. "Speaking of which, when are you meeting her parents?"

"We've met each other's parents before," YN pointed out. "Multiple times."

"As teammates," Pina clarified. "Not as the person dating their daughter. That's different. That's significant."

YN felt a spike of anxiety she hadn't considered before. Meeting Aitana's parents as her girlfriend was very different from meeting them as a teammate.

"We haven't really talked about—" YN started.

"Actually," Aitana interrupted, "my parents are coming to the game this weekend. They want to take us to dinner after."

YN's brain performed several rapid calculations. "Both of us?"

"Well, you're my girlfriend," Aitana said reasonably. "Of course they want to have dinner with both of us."

The word 'girlfriend' in Aitana's voice still had the power to make YN's brain short-circuit slightly.

"Right," YN managed. "Dinner. With your parents. As your girlfriend."

"You don't have to sound so terrified," Aitana laughed. "They already like you."

"They liked me as your teammate. What if they don't like me as your girlfriend?"

"Then we'll deal with it," Aitana said simply. "But they will. Because you're wonderful and they want me to be happy, and you make me happy."

YN felt her anxiety ease slightly at Aitana's confidence, though the chaos squad was watching this exchange with undisguised fascination.

"This is better than telenovelas," Patri murmured to Alba.

They reached the locker room to find most of the team already assembled. The moment they walked in, still holding hands, several heads turned with interest.

"There they are," Alexia announced from her usual spot. "Barcelona's newest power couple."

"We're not a power couple," YN protested, settling onto the bench beside Aitana.

"You're definitely a power couple," one of the other players called out. "You broke the Barcelona women's Instagram with that post last week."

The post in question had been carefully crafted—a photo Alba had taken of them after training, Aitana laughing at something YN had said, YN looking at Aitana like she hung the moon. The caption had been simple: "Finally 💙❤️" on both their accounts, posted simultaneously.

The response had been overwhelming. Thousands of comments, articles written about them, fan accounts dedicated to their relationship seemingly appearing overnight.

"The fan accounts are my favorite," Pina said, pulling out her phone. "Look at this one—'YN and Aitana: A Love Story.' They've documented your entire relationship from 'oblivious pining' to 'finally together.'"

"How do they even know about the oblivious pining?" YN asked.

"Body language analysis," Alba replied. "Also there are approximately ten thousand photos of you staring at Aitana like she personally invented football."

"I did not—"

"You absolutely did," Alexia interrupted with a grin. "But now you're allowed to stare, so it's fine."

Before YN could protest further, their coach entered the room and called the meeting to order. But throughout the tactical discussion and training plans, YN was hyperaware of Aitana beside her—close enough to touch, occasionally catching YN's eye with a soft smile that made concentration difficult.

This was her life now. Dating Aitana Bonmatí. Being able to hold her hand and kiss her and call her "my girlfriend" without having an existential crisis about it.

Well, mostly without having an existential crisis.

Training was both easier and harder than before. Easier because YN no longer had to carefully maintain distance or explain away every touch. Harder because now when Aitana smiled at her during drills, YN knew exactly what that smile meant and had to actively resist the urge to just kiss her in front of everyone.

"Focus," Aitana murmured during a water break, though she was smiling. "You can kiss me later."

"How did you know—"

"You get this look," Aitana explained. "Like you're thinking about kissing me. I've learned to recognize it."

"What look?"

"This one," Aitana said, gesturing at YN's face. "The one you're doing right now."

YN tried to compose her expression into something more neutral, but Aitana just laughed.

"Don't worry. I like it." Aitana leaned in closer, voice dropping. "I think about kissing you all the time too."

YN felt heat climb her neck as Aitana jogged back to the drill, leaving YN standing there trying to remember how to breathe properly.

"You two are disgusting," Mapi announced, appearing beside her. "But also adorable. It's very confusing."

"We're just—"

"Being gross and in love, I know." Mapi grinned. "It's great. We love it. Just remember that some of us are single and suffering."

As training continued, YN found herself falling into the new rhythm of their relationship. The casual touches during drills, the way Aitana always found her during water breaks, the soft smiles they exchanged when they thought no one was looking (though everyone was definitely looking).

By the time they finished, YN felt both exhausted and energized—the usual post-training feeling amplified by the knowledge that she got to spend the rest of the day with Aitana.

"So," Aitana said as they gathered their things, "my place or yours for dinner?"

The casual domesticity of the question made YN smile. Over the past three weeks, they'd fallen into an easy routine—trading off whose apartment they stayed at, cooking together, falling asleep tangled up on the couch while watching terrible reality TV.

"Yours," YN decided. "I'll cook."

"You cooked last time."

"Because you're terrible at cooking," YN pointed out.

"I'm not terrible. I'm just... creatively inconsistent."

"You set off the smoke alarm making toast."

"That was one time!"

As they headed toward the parking lot, still bantering and holding hands, YN caught Alexia watching them with a satisfied expression.

"What?" YN asked.

"Nothing," Alexia replied, though she was smiling. "Just glad to see you happy. Really happy."

"I am," YN said simply, glancing at Aitana, who was now arguing with Mapi about proper toast-making techniques. "Really, really happy."

"Good," Alexia said. "You deserve it. Both of you do."

As they drove to Aitana's apartment, fingers intertwined on the center console, YN thought about how much had changed in just three weeks. And how much she was looking forward to everything that came next.

Even if it included meeting Aitana's parents as her official girlfriend.

Even if the chaos squad was documenting every milestone.

Even if she still couldn't quite believe this was real.

It was real. And it was wonderful.