The meeting gets added to your calendar with almost no warning.

11:30 — Internal.

That’s it, there was no explanation.

Which usually means one of two things in football contract discussions, or bad news dressed up in professional language. Still, you walk into the boardroom mostly calm, because you aren’t worried.

Why would you be? You’re vice-captain, one of the best centre-backs in the league if not the world and a starter for both club and country.

You’ve built your entire adult life inside these walls, so when you step into the room and see your agent already sitting there, Arsenal’s sporting director, someone from the executive board and HR, something cold settles quietly in your stomach.

Not panic, just peaks your instinct, football teaches you quickly when something’s wrong, “Morning,” you say evenly, pulling your chair out.

Nobody looks particularly comfortable, that’s never a good sign.

Your agent gives you a brief look as you sit beside him, the kind that tells you he already knows how this conversation ends.

You lean back slightly in your chair anyway, composed externally, always composed. The sporting director folds his hands together, “First of all,” he begins, “this isn’t an easy conversation.”

There it is corporate football language, you almost laugh, instead you just nod once, “Okay.”

He continues carefully, like every sentence has been rehearsed beforehand, “We want to acknowledge everything you’ve contributed to this club. Your professionalism, leadership, consistency”

You stop listening halfway through, not outwardly, outwardly you still look attentive, but internally, your body already knows.

You’ve been in football long enough to recognise the shape of an ending before it arrives, “after a lot of internal discussion,” he says finally, “the club has decided not to renew your contract at the end of the season.”

Silence, not dramatic silence, just stillness the sort that presses strangely against your ears.

You don’t react immediately your face stays unreadable, because football trains that into you too, never let people see the hit land in real time. The sporting director keeps talking something about transition and about long term vision.

Then the phrase, “A new era for Arsenal Women.” Your jaw tightens slightly, “We’re looking to move in a different direction stylistically,” he says carefully. “Something fresher.”

You stare at him for a moment, you wonder vaguely if he realises how insulting that sounds, like you’re a shirt they’ve grown tired of wearing, not a player who’s bled for this club since she was 9 years old.

Beside you, your agent shifts slightly in his seat, you keep your voice calm, “What exactly does that mean?”

The executive board member answers this time, “We feel the squad is entering a transitional phase.”

Corporate nonsense, empty language designed to avoid accountability, you hold eye contact anyway, “So after captaining this team, winning trophies here, playing through injuries for this club…” Your voice remains level, “…I’m suddenly not part of the future.”

Nobody answers immediately, which is answer enough, the sporting director exhales quietly, “This decision isn’t a reflection of your quality.”

That almost makes you smile, almost, because it very obviously is or at least that’s how it feels sitting here. The room suddenly feels too warm, too small, you lean back slightly further in your chair instead of letting any of it show, “Alright,” you say simply.

The executives look almost relieved by your composure, like they’d prepared for anger, crying. Some emotional reaction that would make them uncomfortable.

Instead you just sit there quietly absorbing the fact that the club you gave your entire life to has decided you no longer fit the aesthetic of their future.

Then comes the second hit, “There is another aspect we wanted to discuss,” the sporting director says carefully. Your stomach sinks further, of course there is, “With your contract expiring in the summer…” He pauses briefly. “If suitable offers arrive during the January window, the club would be leaning towards facilitating a transfer.”

The words land heavier than the first part somehow, because suddenly this isn’t we’re parting ways eventually, it’s we’re ready now and would like to make financial gain from it.

You stare at the table for a second, not because you’re emotional, because you need exactly one second to lock everything back down before speaking.

Next week, the winter transfer window opens next week and Arsenal are already preparing to move you on.

You nod once slowly, “Understood.”

It all feels strangely surreal, because a small, stupid part of you genuinely believed you’d retire here.

When the meeting finally ends, chairs scrape quietly against the floor, people thank you for your professionalism.

You almost laugh again professionalism, the favourite word in football whenever someone wants you to swallow heartbreak quietly.

Your agent gathers his things beside you while the executives start filing out awkwardly.

The sporting director pauses before leaving, “For what it’s worth,” he says carefully, “this wasn’t an easy decision.”

You look at him finally, really look at him, then nod once, “I’m sure it wasn’t.” And somehow your calmness seems to make him feel worse than anger would have.

The door closes behind them and silence fills the room, your agent exhales heavily first, “You okay?”

You stare ahead for a long moment the Arsenal crest hangs on the wall opposite the table. You’ve walked past that badge almost every day for years and suddenly it already feels like it belongs to somebody else, “Yeah,” you say quietly, not true not even slightly, but you’re a footballer and footballers learn very early that sometimes your heart gets broken in meeting rooms instead of stadiums.

🔴

The rumours start leaking three days later, because football clubs love discretion right up until they don’t.

You wake up one Thursday morning to seventeen missed calls from your agent and a push notification from Twitter.

BREAKING: Multiple top European clubs interested in Arsenal vice-captain y/n ahead of January window.

Your stomach drops before you even open it, then it gets worse, Spanish clubs, French clubs, Two different WSL rivals. One article mentions a potentially record breaking fee for a defender in the women’s game.

Another says Arsenal are open to negotiations, open to negotiations like you’re an asset already halfway out the door, you stare at the screen too long before locking your phone again.

At training that afternoon, nobody mentions it directly at first, but football dressing rooms are ecosystems information spreads through them before words even get spoken.

The second you walk into the gym, conversations dip slightly, eyes flick up then away, Beth eventually breaks first.

“They’re chatting shit,” Beth Mead says immediately while strapping tape around her wrist. “You’re not leaving.”

You force a shrug, “Haven’t read it.”

A lie, everyone knows it’s a lie, Leah watches you carefully from across the room, because unlike the others, she notices what’s underneath your calm.

You’ve become quieter over the last few weeks in a way that goes beyond normal brooding, you drift through training now like somebody only half present.

Still professional and excellent, but elsewhere mentally and unfortunately, Leah knows you well enough to recognise when you’re retreating inward, “You alright?” she asks later during passing drills.

“Fine.” Always the same answer.

She traps the ball beneath her boot instead of passing it back immediately, “You don’t have to do that with me.”

Something in your chest tightens sharply, because you know exactly what she means, the automatic deflection and emotional shutdown.

You glance away first, “I said I’m fine.”

Leah studies you for another second before finally knocking the ball back toward you, but the crease between her brows never fully disappears after that.

Everything feels wrong, training, matches, home, it feels like your entire life is happening publicly without your permission like you’re slowly losing ownership of yourself piece by piece. Every version of you being discussed by strangers constantly while the actual you quietly drowns underneath all of it.

At training, you become almost frighteningly composed your emotions lock down so tightly they barely leak out at all anymore.

You train harder, speak less, headphones on constantly eyes distant, even your laughter disappears almost completely. That’s what finally worries people, because you’ve always been quiet, but not empty.

One afternoon before the final match before Christmas break, you’re sat alone in the changing room long after most of the girls have gone out to train.

The room hums softly with distant noise from outside then the bench dips beside you, you already know who it is before looking up. Leah sits beside you quietly, elbows resting on her knees for once, she doesn’t joke immediately.

She just sits there for a minute in silence with you, “You’re disappearing a bit.”

Your jaw tightens slightly, “I’m right here.”

Leah looks sideways at you, “No,” she says softly, “Not really.”

The words hit harder than you expect because the awful thing is you think she might be right somewhere over the last few weeks, your life stopped feeling like yours entirely and you don’t know how to get it back.

You sit there staring at the floor between your feet while Leah waits beside you quietly not pushing. That’s the thing about Leah for all the talking she does, she knows when silence matters too.

You’re tired so unbelievably tired and suddenly the effort of holding everything upright all the time feels impossible. You rub a hand slowly across your jaw before exhaling quietly, “They’re not renewing me.”

The sentence lands flat between you, Leah stills instantly beside you, “What?”

You keep your eyes fixed on the floor, “My contract.” Your throat feels tight suddenly. “They’re not renewing it.”

“Who told you that?”

“The club.” You laugh once softly through your nose, humourless, “Pretty official, apparently.”

Leah’s expression shifts from confusion to outright disbelief, “No.”

You nod faintly, “They want a new era.” The bitterness creeps in before you can stop it, “Fresh direction. Fresh squad.”

Leah stares at you like she genuinely cannot process what she’s hearing, “That’s insane.”

You shrug automatically even though the movement feels stiff, “It’s football.”

“No, fuck that.” Her voice sharpens immediately, “That’s actually insane.” You look away because hearing someone else say it out loud somehow makes the whole thing feel more real. Leah leans back slightly on the bench beside you, one hand dragging over her face, “They can’t seriously think this club is better without you.”

You swallow hard, “They do.”

“No.”

“They literally told me, Leah.”

“I know what they told you.” She looks furious now, “I’m saying they’re wrong.”

Your jaw tightens sharply at that, because part of you wants to believe her so badly it almost hurts, but another part the bigger part already feels cut loose from the place, “They’ve had offers,” you say quietly after a moment.

Leah’s head turns immediately, “What?”

“The window opens next week.” You stare ahead blankly, “Apparently there are offers they don’t think they can refuse if I’m leaving anyway.”

The silence after that feels enormous, you can practically see the moment Leah understands what this actually means, end of an era reduced to transfer negotiations before January.

“That’s why you’ve been like this,” she says softly.

You huff another quiet laugh, “Probably.”

Leah looks at you for a long moment, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

That nearly breaks you, because the truth is you hadn’t told anyone because saying it aloud made it real, because if you kept it contained inside your own head maybe Arsenal still belonged to you somehow.

You stare at your hands instead, “I didn’t know how.” Your voice cracks slightly on the last word.

Leah’s expression softens immediately, “Oh, Y/N.”

Your eyes burn instantly as you look away hard toward the row of lockers opposite you, embarrassment floods you immediately after.

You hate crying, hate it, especially here, especially over football, but the grief has been sitting inside your chest with nowhere to go, “They don’t even seem sad about it,” you say quietly, voice rougher now, “That’s the worst part.”

Leah stays silent beside you.

You laugh shakily once, wiping quickly at your face before anything properly falls, “I was nine,” you whisper, “Nine.”

The number hangs painfully in the air, nine years old walking into Arsenal’s academy for the first time, building your whole life around one badge.

Leah’s eyes glisten slightly immediately because she understands exactly what that means, nobody outside football really gets it, how clubs stop being jobs, how they become homes, identities, versions of yourself.

“They said ‘fresh’ like I’m…” You shake your head slightly, “Like I’m old furniture.”

“You are not disposable.”

Your mouth tightens hard, “Feels a bit like I am.”

Leah reaches over then, gripping the back of your neck briefly the way she always does after difficult matches, “You listen to me,” she says firmly, “Any club in the world would kill to have you.” You close your eyes briefly because that almost makes it worse somehow, “You shouldn’t have to leave the club you want to be at.”

And there it is the real wound underneath everything else, because yes, there are huge offers from massive clubs, guaranteed champions League football, money that would change your life, but none of it feels like Arsenal, none of it feels like home.

A tear finally slips free despite your best efforts, you wipe it away immediately, jaw clenched tight with humiliation, “Sorry.”

Leah looks genuinely offended, “Don’t apologise for that.”

You laugh weakly through the remnants of the emotion, “Bit pathetic.”

Her expression hardens instantly, “Absolutely not.”

You shake your head again, staring down at your hands, “I just thought…” Your throat tightens painfully, “I thought I’d retire here.”

The words nearly break both of you, because Leah thought that too everyone did, Leah nudges your shoulder lightly against hers, “You know what I think?” You glance sideways at her tiredly, “I think they’re going to realise what they’ve done the second you walk out the door.”

Your mouth twitches faintly despite everything, “Very dramatic.”

“I mean it.”

You believe she does, you just sit there shoulder to shoulder in the quiet changing room while the weight of it settles properly between you.

You stare ahead at the Arsenal badge stitched onto the pile of training gear across the room and suddenly your chest hurts so badly it feels difficult to breathe around it, because you can still remember everything.

Being nine and terrified on your first academy day, the smell of wet grass at training, the first time you pulled the shirt on properly. Your first senior appearance, winning trophies, losing finals, captaining the team. Every version of yourself exists somewhere inside this club and now they’re just done with you.

You scrub harshly at your face again before another tear can fall, but it’s pointless now. Once the crack starts, everything underneath it comes flooding through too quickly to stop.

Beside you, Leah exhales shakily, “You know what’s horrible?” she says quietly, you shake your head slightly, “I can’t picture this place without you.”

Your face folds before you can stop it, shoulders curling inward slightly as another tear slips free, “Fuck,” you whisper hoarsely, laughing weakly through it, “I hate this.”

Leah’s eyes are bright now too, “Yeah,” she says thickly. “Me too.”

You both sit there trying unsuccessfully to pull yourselves together for about ten seconds before Leah suddenly wipes angrily at her own face, “Oh, brilliant,” she mutters. “Now you’ve got me crying.”

That gets a broken laugh out of you, “Sorry.”

“You really need to stop apologising every time you have a feeling.”

You shake your head again, still smiling faintly through tears now, “You’re supposed to be the emotionally stable one.”

Leah snorts wetly, “You’ve known me too long to say something that stupid with confidence.”

You laugh again properly this time, even while wiping at your eyes, “I just don’t understand how it became this.”

Only months ago you were vice-captain, starting every week, one of the faces of the club aand now Arsenal are quietly preparing to move you before Christmas.

Leah wipes at her face again before leaning back against the lockers behind you both, “You know they’ll regret it.”

You stare ahead blankly, “Maybe.”

“No. Not maybe.” Her voice firms slightly despite the tears still clinging to it, “They will.”

You want to believe her, but right now all you can think about is how easy it seemed for the club to let you go, “I feel stupid,” you admit quietly.

Leah frowns immediately. “Why?”

“Because I actually thought loyalty mattered here.”

Football is cruel like that, you can love a club with your whole chest and still end up sitting in a nearly empty changing room being told you no longer fit the project.

Leah’s eyes shine again, “You know what the worst part is?” she says softly, you glance toward her, “The girls are gonna lose their minds."

That almost makes you laugh again, “Beth’ll probably stage a protest.”

“She absolutely will.”

“And Alessia cries at literally everything.”

Leah smiles weakly, “You leaving might actually kill her.”

Your throat tightens again unexpectedly at that, because you hadn’t let yourself think much about the others yet.

You drop your head into your hands again briefly, “God.”

Leah reaches over and rubs a hand slowly across your upper back another tear slips free before you can stop it and this time you don’t even bother hiding it.

Leah’s crying quietly beside you now too, eyes red as she stares ahead, “This is shit,” she whispers.

You nod, “Yeah.” And for a little while longer, the two of you just sit there together grieving something that hasn’t even fully ended yet.

🔴

Christmas break arrives without feeling remotely like a break, the training ground empties out gradually over the final few days before everyone disperses home, but the atmosphere around you stays strange.

People keep looking at you like they’re trying not to say the wrong thing, which honestly feels worse than normality would.

The rumours online have only intensified now too, every major football account seems to have an opinion on your future. Barcelona. Lyon. Chelsea. Wolfsburg.

Articles analysing your tactical profile like you’re already gone. Fans arguing over transfer fees beneath pictures of you wearing the Arsenal captain’s armband.

You stop reading all of it after a while, because none of them actually understand what hurts.

You spend Christmas mostly quiet, your family notice it immediately, of course they do, but they don’t push too hard.

Your mum just keeps making cups of tea and sitting near you in silence the way she used to after difficult academy matches when you were younger.

You find yourself staring at old Arsenal photos more than once over the holidays, tiny academy kits, youth tournaments, sixteen year old you grinning beside Leah after your senior debut, an entire life stitched together in red and white.

By New Year’s Day, you feel hollowed out by it and the offers start becoming real, meetings, calls.

Your agent flying back and forth constantly, you try to approach everything professionally because that’s what football teaches you to do. Smile politely, discuss projects, talk about ambition and systems and long term vision like your chest isn’t quietly caving in underneath it all.

Still, some clubs are easier to dismiss than others, Chelsea is an immediate no, your agent doesn’t even argue. “I couldn't do that to the Arsenal fans.”

“Correct.”

Lyon is tempting, Wolfsburg too, but nothing fully settles nothing feels right.

Then one evening your agent calls while you’re halfway through reading in your flat, his tone changes before he even says the words, “Barcelona want a meeting.”

You go very still, because some part of you knew that was coming eventually. You just didn’t expect your stomach to react quite so violently when it finally did.

“They’ve been asking quietly for weeks what your figures are,” he continues carefully. “But now they are willing to negotiate.”

“When?”

“They want you in Spain after New Year as soon as possible.” Silence stretches briefly down the phone, then your agent adds carefully, “They’re serious, Y/N.”

You already know that, Barcelona don’t pursue players half heartedly when they do, especially not defenders.

You stare out across your dark flat for a long moment Barcelona the best team in the world. The club every player secretly measures themselves against and somehow the thought doesn’t make you excited first.

It makes you sad, because accepting Barcelona means accepting Arsenal is really over.

Your agent lets the silence sit for a moment before speaking again, “There’s something else.”

You already hate the tone, “What?”

“It's money as your agent, I would highly highly recommend you do not turn down” Your eyes close immediately. Your agent continues, “They don't offer this kind of money out to anybody. They want you to hear the project directly from them. Not through media. They’re arranging meetings with senior players too.” Senior players. Meaning captains. Meaning. Nope. Absolutely not thinking about that. “You still there?” your agent asks.

“Unfortunately.”

He laughs quietly, “You don’t have to decide immediately.” But you do eventually. That’s the awful thing about football even heartbreak comes with deadlines.

🔴

The first morning back at London Colney feels wrong before you even get out of the car. Cold January air hangs low across the training ground, grey clouds pressing heavy overhead while players gradually filter into the building carrying coffees and overnight bags and normal conversations.

Everything around you keeps moving normally while your entire life quietly fractures underneath it.

You sit in your car for an extra minute before forcing yourself out your phone buzzes almost immediately it was your agent, you ignore it for now.

Inside, the changing room hums softly with sleepy energy, Beth Mead is already talking too loudly about some reality show nobody else watches.

Alessia Russo is half buried inside a hoodie eating cereal from a tupperware container and Leah Williamson looks up the second you walk in.

Immediately reading something in your face her expression sharpens slightly. You look away first, because if Leah asks how you are before you’re ready, you genuinely might lose your composure in the middle of the changing room.

You get changed mostly in silence the conversation around you drifts in and out without fully landing.

Your chest has felt tight all morning because now it’s real enough that keeping it a secret feels unfair somehow.

Beth notices first when you barely react to one of her jokes, “That’s concerning,” she says slowly. “Normally you at least pretend I’m funny.”

You zip your training jacket up slowly, “Can I talk to you three before we go out?”

The wording alone is enough to shift the mood instantly, Beth straightens slightly, Alessia lowers her spoon.

The changing room gradually empties around you while the rest of the girls head out toward the gym until eventually it’s just the four of you left.

You lean back against the lockers, arms folded tightly across your chest mostly to keep yourself physically together.

Beth frowns first, “You’re scaring me a bit.”

You swallow once then force the words out before you can lose your nerve, “They’re not renewing me.”

The room goes completely still, even though Leah already knew hearing it aloud again visibly hits her anyway.

Beth blinks at you, “…What?”

Alessia’s face falls instantly, “No,” she says immediately, like denial alone might undo it.

You nod faintly, “They told me before Christmas.”

Beth stares at you in genuine disbelief, “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke.”

“No, I know but—” She cuts herself off sharply, emotion flashing across her face too fast to hide. “What do you mean they’re not renewing you?”

You laugh once quietly through your nose, humourless, “They want a new direction apparently.”

Leah’s jaw visibly tightens beside you at the phrasing. Beth looks furious immediately, “That is absolute bullshit.”

Alessia just looks heartbroken already, “But you’re” She gestures helplessly. “You’re you.”

You almost smile at how genuinely distressed she sounds, “That’s apparently not enough anymore.”

“No,” Beth says sharply, “No, fuck that.” The anger in her voice catches slightly at the edges with real emotion underneath it.

You look down briefly toward the floor before continuing quietly, “They’re willing to sell in now if the offers are good enough.”

That lands even worse Alessia’s eyes widen immediately, “They want you gone now?”

You shrug automatically which was a defensive habit of yours, “Contract expires in summer anyway.”

“That’s disgusting,” Beth mutters.

Leah’s been quiet this entire time watching you carefully probably noticing the way you haven’t once said Arsenal are making a mistake and just accepted it. Like somewhere underneath everything you’ve already started grieving properly.

Beth folds her arms tightly, “Who?" You glance up, "What clubs?”

You hesitate briefly, “Lyon.”

Beth grimaces slightly but nods, “Okay.”

“Wolfsburg.”

Alessia looks faintly overwhelmed already, “And…”

You stop immediately regretting continuing, Leah closes her eyes briefly beside you like she already knows exactly what’s coming.

“Oh no,” Beth says slowly.

You exhale quietly, “erm, a few WSL teams have made offers, London City, United, City, Chelsea” You swallow, "Best overall package so far is Barcelona, with.. my package and obviously trophy opportunities and the players I will get to play with."

Alessia whispers, “Oh my god.”

Beth actually looks winded, Leah rubs a hand slowly across her face, Barcelona isn’t just another transfer, it means leaving England.

Barcelona means the best team in the world looked at Arsenal’s vice-captain and decided they wanted her just solidify what a good player they are about to loose.

Beth stares at you for a long moment, “…Would you go?”

The question settles heavily in the room you look away immediately, because that’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t want to leave Arsenal, but Barcelona feels impossible to ignore. “The money is…” You pause briefly, “A lot.”

Beth snorts softly through the emotion, “Very professional analysis there.”

You huff a faint laugh despite yourself, “My agent basically threatened me if I turned it down.”

“That good?”

“That good.”

Leah finally speaks then, quietly, “Do you want to go?”

Your throat tightens immediately, because nobody’s actually asked you that yet, not tactically or financially, but emotionally. Do you want it?

You stare at the floor for a long moment before answering honestly, “I don’t know.”

That’s the worst part, because part of you already sees it too clearly, the football, the challenge, the level and beneath all of that a warm brown gaze and slightly broken English and a woman who’d pulled you away on a touchline because she thought you were ignoring her.

You scrub a hand across your jaw quickly.

Beth watches you carefully, “…This is a bit lesbianically tragic, isn’t it?”

You look up in disbelief, Alessia makes a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh and a cry, even Leah’s mouth twitches, “You are genuinely unbelievable,” you mutter.

“I’m coping.”

“With that?”

Beth points at you dramatically, “You accidentally manifested your own enemies to lovers transfer saga.”

“There are no enemies involved! Or lovers for that matter”

Leah raises an eyebrow immediately you stop talking, because unfortunately you no longer sound convincing even to yourself.

🔴

The meeting room is too quiet that’s the first thing you notice when you walk in.

Usually before training there’s chatter, people half awake with coffees in hand, Beth talking too loudly about something ridiculous while Alessia laughs beside her.

Today it’s subdued, because the rumours exploded overnight after the club announcement was scheduled internally everyone already knows something’s coming.

You take your usual seat near the back beside Leah, arms folded tightly across your chest while players gradually settle, nobody looks at you directly for too long that somehow hurts the most.

At the front of the room, Renée Slegers stands quietly beside the projector screen, expression carefully composed.

You already know what she’s going to say, still doesn’t stop your stomach twisting. The room eventually settles completely silent, Renée exhales softly before speaking, “I wanted to speak to everyone together before this becomes public later today.”

Immediately the atmosphere shifts heavier, you stare down at your hands.

“After discussions between the club and player…” Renée continues carefully, “…Sunday’s match at the Emirates will be Y/N’s final game for Arsenal Football Club.”

Silence, real silence this time the kind that physically presses against the room nobody moves at first, because hearing it aloud makes it real in a completely different way.

Your final game at the Emirates for Arsenal, you keep your face neutral through sheer force of habit. Footballer composure, media composure, the same mask you’ve worn through injuries and finals and devastating losses but beside you, Leah’s eyes close briefly.

Across the room, Beth looks openly furious already and Alessia’s face folds almost immediately, “Oh my god,” she whispers quietly to herself.

Renée keeps speaking gently about your contribution to the club, your leadership, your legacy, every word somehow making your chest ache worse.

Legacy, such a strange word when you’re only twenty nine and still feel like the terrified nine year old walking into Arsenal academy for the first time.

“We’ll have opportunities to celebrate Y/N properly this weekend,” Renée finishes softly, “But I and Y/N wanted this group to hear it from us first.”

Nobody speaks immediately after, then Beth suddenly stands up altogether, “This is bullshit.” The bluntness of it almost makes you laugh.

Renée’s expression softens sadly, “Beth—”

“No, seriously,” Beth says emotionally, “This club is actually insane.”

A few nervous laughs break weakly around the room through the heaviness, but nobody disagrees which is what makes it worse.

Leah stares ahead silently beside you, jaw tight, then one by one the girls start moving not toward the door, but toward you.

Alessia gets there first and practically throws herself into your arms before you can react properly, “You can’t leave,” she says tearfully into your shoulder.

Your throat tightens instantly, “It’s one plane journey away, drama queen.”

“That’s not the point.”

Beth hugs you next hard enough to nearly crack ribs, “You better become the most expensive defender in history,” she mutters angrily against your hair.

You laugh weakly despite yourself, “Very touching sentiment.”

“I’m serious.” You know she is.

The room dissolves into something emotional and messy after that, the girls hugging you some crying openly, others just sitting beside you quietly because they don’t know what to say and through all of it you feel strangely detached.

Like this is happening to somebody else, like maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow and still belong here.

🔴

The Instagram post goes live at exactly 2pm, a photo of you in Arsenal colours, a statement underneath thanking you for your years of service to the club.

Your phone becomes unusable within minutes notifications crash endlessly across the screen, fans in complete disbelief.

no fucking way

arsenal have genuinely lost their minds

this better be fake

She's our best defender!

who allowed this???

Edits flood social media almost immediately, videos of your best tackles, captaining the team, celebrating trophies, young academy photos beside current ones an entire childhood and adulthood compressed into internet grief within hours.

You stop looking eventually, because every comment somehow makes it feel more final.

🔴

That night your flat feels painfully quiet you shower make tea you barely drink, fold laundry just to keep your hands occupied.

Eventually you end up sitting in bed in oversized Arsenal pyjama bottoms and an old hoodie, staring blankly at your ceiling while exhaustion settles deep into your bones.

Your phone buzzes beside you, you almost ignore it automatically then you see the name, Alexia Putellas

Your chest tightens unexpectedly, you open the message slowly.

Alexia: I shocked. I never think you leave Arsenal

You stare at it for a long moment then finally type back.

You: It wasn’t my decision.

Three dots appear almost immediately.

Alexia: They just let you go? You best centre back in world?

Your eyes burn suddenly not because of the compliment, because of how genuinely confused she sounds by it like the idea itself doesn’t make sense to her.

You stare at the messages too long without replying, your chest feels hollow again exhausted right down into your bones. Eventually you just lock the phone and place it face down on the bedside table.

You can’t do this tonight, can’t explain Arsenal politics or grief or betrayal or the unbearable feeling of being unwanted by the only club you ever truly belonged to.

So instead you switch the lamp off pull the duvet higher over yourself and lie there in darkness listening to the quiet hum of London outside your windows while your entire life changes around you.

By the time sleep finally drags you under, your unanswered messages are still glowing faintly somewhere beside the bed.

🔴

The Emirates has never sounded like this before, you notice it the second the team bus pulls underneath the stadium, even through tinted windows.

The noise rolls through the glass in waves chants already echoing outside hours before kick-off.

Beside you, Leah glances sideways from her seat, “You okay?”

You nod automatically and lie automatically, “Fine.”

Leah just hums softly like she doesn’t believe you for a second anymore nobody really does these days.

As the bus doors open, the noise doubles instantly phones flash, supporters scream your name from somewhere behind barriers and then you see the banners.

Thank You Y/N.

One of our own.

Forever Arsenal.

Your throat tightens so fast it almost hurts, you lower your head slightly as you walk inside, headphones on despite no music actually playing.

The tunnel feels strangely surreal today like every step is happening underwater, staff stop you more than usual with little touches on your shoulder with quiet good lucks their expressions too emotional to meet properly.

Inside the dressing room your shirt is already hanging in your spot, your name, your number one last time at the Emirates, you stare at it slightly too long before sitting down.

Nobody’s particularly loud today even Beth’s energy is muted beneath the emotion hanging around the room.

Eventually Renée gives the team talk, but you barely absorb most of it your pulse has been too loud in your ears since arrival.

Then right before you head out Leah stands the room quiets almost immediately and she looks directly at you, “You know there’s nothing I can actually say here that’ll cover what you mean to this club.”

Your jaw tightens instantly, oh no, no no no, absolutely not before kick off.

Leah continues anyway, “You’ve carried this badge with more pride than anyone I know.” The room is completely silent now, “You made this place better,” she says softly, “For all of us.”

Your eyes burn immediately as around you, several girls already look emotional too, Beth openly wipes at her face, Alessia looks seconds away from sobbing.

Leah’s own voice catches slightly before she clears it, “So whatever happens after today…” She gives you a small, shaky smile, “You’re Arsenal forever. Alright?”

Something in your chest cracks painfully open, you nod once quickly because speaking feels dangerous, Leah steps forward first and pulls you into a hug.

The room follows after that arms everywhere, hands gripping your shoulders, emotion of familiar voices all blurring together.

You laugh weakly somewhere in the middle of it despite the tears burning behind your eyes, “This is deeply embarrassing.”

“No,” Beth says thickly beside you, “This is your fault for being loveable.”

“That’s disgusting, actually.”

A few watery laughs break through the room, then the tunnel official appears it was time to line up, you pull yourself together the best you can.

🔴

Walking out at the Emirates feels heavier and louder than usual the second your boots hit the tunnel floor, the stadium erupts. Your name thunders around the Emirates so loudly it physically vibrates through your chest.

You freeze for half a second, because suddenly every memory crashes into you at once, you force yourself forward anyway, supporters hold scarves high in the stands and then you see it.

North Bank, a massive banner stretched across rows of seats, HOME IS WHERE Y/N IS.

Your composure nearly disappears completely, “Jesus Christ,” Beth mutters somewhere behind you emotionally.

Leah bumps her shoulder lightly into yours as you line up, “You with me?”

You swallow hard, “Trying.”

The match itself becomes strangely sharp after kick-off, like your body understands before your brain does, every tackle clean, every pass precise, your focus absolute.

Football has always made the rest of the world quieter, today especially. The crowd sings your name constantly, every defensive action applauded like it means something bigger.

Midway through the second half, you slide across to stop a dangerous counterattack near the edge of the box, perfect timing, a perfect tackle.

You stay down for half a second after clearing it, chest heaving against the grass while noise crashes around you from every direction, grief hits you so hard it feels almost unbearable.

When you stand again, Leah grabs the side of your head briefly as she passes, “Best centre back in the world,” she mutters fiercely.

Arsenal win, you barely remember the final whistle itself only the noise afterwards which was deafening. The second the whistle blows, you sit on the grass then lay back hands over your face, your teammates surround you instantly. Beth crying openly, Alessia somehow crying harder, Leah hugging you so tightly you can barely breathe.

Then the stadium announcer says your name, and the entire Emirates stands, sixty thousand people rising to their feet at once, applauding, cheering.

Your face folds before you can stop it, “Oh no,” you laugh shakily through tears immediately. “Nope.” But it’s pointless now, emotion crashes through you too fast to contain.

You clap toward the supporters weakly while tears spill properly down your face for the first time in public, because this is goodbye an actual goodbye.

The lap of appreciation afterwards nearly destroys you completely, you walk slowly around the Emirates with the girls beside you while supporters continue singing your name. Scarves wave, children hold signs asking you not to leave and somewhere around halfway across the pitch you finally break properly.

Just quiet devastation head bowed briefly while tears fall faster than you can hide them, Leah notices instantly her arm loops around your shoulders without hesitation while Beth grabs your hand from the other side.

“You okay?” Alessia asks tearfully.

You laugh weakly through it, “No.” Honest for once.

The stadium keeps singing anyway, long after the final whistle, long after the speeches, long after you stand alone one final time in the centre circle staring up at the stands that raised you.

Eventually the lights begin dimming around the Emirates, staff waiting quietly near the tunnel.

Time to go.

You stand there for one last second in Arsenal red, trying desperately to memorise everything, with your chest aching so badly it feels impossible to carry, you turn and walk back down the tunnel.

🔴

Hours later, your flat is silent the adrenaline has long gone. What’s left behind is exhaustion so deep it feels stitched into your bones.

Your bag still sits packed near the door, you showered eventually, mostly just to wash the pitch and tears and stadium lights off your skin.

Now you sit cross legged on your bed in an old Arsenal hoodie, hair still damp, staring blankly at your phone.

Instagram open an empty caption box waiting, you’ve typed and deleted about fifteen different versions already. Too emotional, too cold, too angry, too grateful. Nothing feels right for something that meant your entire life.

Eventually, around one in the morning, you stop trying to sound composed and just write honestly.

I don’t really know how to put twenty years into one post.

I joined Arsenal when I was nine years old. I was a quiet kid with a backpack bigger than me and a dream that felt far too big to say out loud properly.

This club became my second home before I even understood what that meant.

It gave me some of the best days of my life. Some of the hardest too. It gave me teammates that became family, coaches who shaped me, supporters who carried me through moments I didn’t think I could carry myself through.

Every version of me exists somewhere inside Arsenal.

The little girl desperate to be good enough. The teenager making her debut. The player living out dreams at the Emirates. The vice captain. The person.

I always thought I’d leave this club one day feeling ready.

I don’t think you ever really are.

Today was one of the hardest and most beautiful days of my life. Walking out at the Emirates for the final time and hearing that support is something I genuinely don’t think I’ll ever have words for.

Thank you for every chant, every message, every banner, every little girl wearing my shirt, every person who believed in me long before I believed fully in myself.

Thank you to every teammate I’ve shared a dressing room with. Especially this current group. You made this place feel like home every single day.

And thank you to Arsenal.

For raising me.

I don’t know what comes next yet. But I know wherever football takes me, a part of me will always belong here.

Forever grateful. Forever Arsenal ❤️

The comments start flooding in almost immediately, fans first, former teammates, pundits, the England girls, players from across Europe.

Your phone buzzes nonstop against the duvet beside you while you lie there emotionally exhausted staring at the ceiling.

Eventually, despite yourself, you open the comments and that’s somehow what finally nearly breaks you again.

leahwilliamson: Don’t really have words for this one. Proud of you always. My favourite person forever ❤️

bethmead: Actually crying again thanks a lot. Love you endlessly idiot ❤️

alessia: not me sobbing in bed at 1am 😭 i love you so much

mariona: Very lucky club next ❤️

katie_mccabe11: My favourite centre half. Arsenal won’t be the same without you kid ❤️

liawaelti: It was an honour to share this team with you. Incredible player, better person ❤️

stina.blackstenius: Thank you for everything ❤️

caitlinfoord: forever one of the best ❤️

Alexgreenwood: World class. Don’t let anyone make you forget that ❤️

keira_walsh: privilege to play against you (sometimes less fun than others) ❤️

GeorgiaStanway: ❤️❤️❤️

laia_codina: Top top player ❤️

alexiaputellas: 🤍

You stare at that last comment the longest, long enough your screen eventually dims slightly in your hand, because somehow out of every comment underneath the post that’s the one that settles deepest in your chest. Even after all that's happened and came in the last few weeks, she'd still publicly support you.

your girlfriend, alessia, name on the back of your shirt and then the next the people were recognising you before they even recognised the players walking past,

it was subtle at first. a double take here. a whisper there.

then-

"y/n? oh my god, hi.. can i get a photo please?"

you blinked at the young girl, startled, instinctively glancing over your shoulder like they must be talking to someone else. but no, the young girls' phones was already halfway raised with a hopeful smile waiting.

"yeah.. yeah, of course," you said, a little shy as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, stepping forwards a little. you were kind of unsure what to do. you'd watched alessia have hundred of times be stopped by people for photos but never yourself.

it should've felt strange and it did the first couple of times it happened. but the thing was, people weren't treating you like a celebrity. they were treating you like... part of it. like you belonged.

—

match days were sacred. they always had been.

you had your routine down to muscle memory at this point: same coffee order, same walk toward the stadium, same seat as you sat in the box with alessia's family with the same quiet buzz settling in your chest as the floodlights came into view.

but there was always a moment, the moment, that made everything else fade.

warm-ups. because that's when alessia would come out.

and without fail, without hesitation, her eyes would lift straight to the stands. straight to you.

it didn't matter how many people were there. whether she was playing in wembley or meadow park, how loud it was, how chaotic, how overwhelming. alessia always found you.

and every single time, you felt it. that tiny, invisible thread pulling between the two of you.

sometimes alessia would give a little wave, subtle and quick. sometimes it was just a look, soft and grounding but enough to say 'i see you'.

and you would smile back, heart already full before the match had even started.

—

the internet, however, had other ideas. it started with edits. then tweets. then entire compilations.

you reacting to goals. you clapping from the stands. you wrapped in an oversized jacket which people knew deep down would be alessia's, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes never leaning the pitch.

people noticed the way you watched alessia. watched her like nothing else existed.

'the way y/n looks at alessia... yeah, that's love.'

'i don't even watch football anymore, i just watch y/n watching football.'

and then, the joke. the one that refused to die and was commented on every one of alessia's posts.

'alessia russo? oh you mean y/n's girlfriend?"

'y/n's girlfriend is playing good atm!'

you discovered that one lying across alessia's chest one evening. alessia sprawled across the couch half watching the tv, half watching you scroll through your phone as you sat between her legs.

you let out a soft snort, reading all the different versions of the comment. alessia glanced down immediately, fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sleeve, "what?"

you tilted the phone slightly so alessia could see a little better. then there was a pause, she was reading them. "..that's rude-"

you grinned, shifting so your chin rested properly against alessia's shoulder, "i think it's quite accurate, personally."

"of course you do," alessia huffed, while trying and failing to not smile, "i'm the one who scores the goals for a living."

"and yet," you say start teasingly, eyes sparkling before kissing the corner of her mouth, "you're still only just my girlfriend."

alessia shook her head, but her hand slip up, fingers curling gently at the back of your neck, tugging you just a little closer.

"unbelievable," she murmured but her voice had softened, fond in a way that gave her away completely.

you just tilted your head, brushing a slow kiss along her jaw. "jealous?"

alessia didn't even hesitate. "mhm a little bit."that earned you a quiet laugh, warm and soft, the kind that lingered between them. "you're ridiculous," you whispered.

"yeah, maybe," alessia said, turning her head just enough to catch your lips lightly. "but i'm your ridiculous."

the words barely had time to settle before you kissed her properly this time. deeper, slower. it wasn't rushed or teasing anymore, but something steadier, more certain.

alessia leaned into it instantly, her grip tightening at the back of your neck as she pulled you closer, like she couldn't quite get enough.

you hummed softly against her lips, one hand sliding to alessia's waist, anchoring her there as the kiss lingered—unhurried, warm, familiar in the way only they were.

when the two of you finally pulled back, it wasn't by much. your foreheads brushed, breaths mingling, both of them smiling in that quiet, content way.

"still only just your girlfriend, yeah?" alessia murmured, voice softer now.

you smiled, nudging your nose gently against hers. "for now."

—

after matches, you never rushed off. you waited. always. no matter the weather, rain or shine. you'd wait. even as fans started to recognise you more, gathering near the barriers with hopeful smiles, you'd still wait.

'y/n! could we—just one picture? please!'

'y/n, you looked so nervous during that last corner—'

"oh i wasn't nervous," you'd laugh, even though you absolutely had been. you never said no.

even when it got overwhelming. even when there were more people than you expected. you stayed soft, patient, present—like you couldn't quite believe anyone wanted a piece of your time in the first place.

but the whole time, your eyes flicked back to the tunnel. waiting. looking.

alessia noticed that too. of course she did. she noticed everything about you.

the way you shifted your weight when you were tired. the way you smiled a little too politely when you didn't want to disappoint anyone. the way your fingers curled into the sleeves of whatever you were wearing when the crowd got a little too loud.

so she made it a habit.

no matter what; win, lose, exhausted, buzzing.. she went to you first.

the first time it properly clicked for everyone was after a late winner.

the stadium was still roaring, teammates pulling alessia in every direction but she broke away, scanning the stands with a kind of urgency that didn't go unnoticed.

and then. there. you. hands over her mouth, eyes shining, already halfway leaning over the barrier of meadow park.

alessia didn't slow down. didn't hesitate. she jogged straight over, grin breaking across her face in a way that cameras definitely caught, reaching up to take your hands for just a second.

just long enough.

"you saw that?" alessia laughed, breathless. you shook your head, smiling like you couldn't quite believe it either. "such a show off."

alessia squeezed your fingers. "only for you love."

and then she was gone again pulled back into the chaos but the moment stuck. online, it exploded.

'she scored and immediately went to y/n... yeah i'm unwell.'

'no because why is that so intimate???'

'y/n isn't just a WAG, that's her PERSON.'

'alessia russo: professional footballer, part-time y/n enthusiast.'

later that night, you were curled into alessia's side again, legs tangled, the quiet of your flat wrapping around the two of you.

alessia was scrolling, frowning slightly. you peeked over slightly. "what now?"

"...they've made another edit."

"let me guess," you said, already smiling, ready to joke on. "i'm the main character again."

alessia turned the phone toward you. it was a compilation—you in the stands, you laughing, you reaching out for alessia, all set to soft music.

and right at the end: alessia, looking up at you like you hung the stars. your smile faded into something softer.

"oh."

alessia locked her phone and tossed it aside like it suddenly didn't matter anymore."they don't get it," alessia said quietly.

you frowned slightly. "get what?"

alessia shifted, propping herself up on her elbow, her free hand brushing gently along your cheek. slow, deliberate, like she was memorising you all over again.

"that it's not..." alessia hesitated, searching for the right words. "it's not just you supporting me." your expression softened as you listened to the way she spoke.

"it's you," alessia continued, voice low, steady. "it's always been you. before the noise, before any of this. you show up every single time like it's the most important thing in the world."

you swallowed slightly, her hand coming up to rest over alessia's wrist. "because it is," you said softly.

something in alessia's expression cracked. just a little, just enough to let the affection spill through completely unguarded.

"no one," alessia murmured, leaning in until their foreheads touched, "no one takes top fan from me, yeah?"

you smiled, breath warm where it mingled with hers. "bit possessive, no?"

"very," alessia admitted with a slight smirk. and then she kissed you. not rushed. not playful. just slow, warm, certain like something steady and unshakeable.

you melted into it almost instantly, your hand coming up to rest lightly against alessia's jaw, thumb brushing there in a soft, absent rhythm.

alessia leaned closer without thinking, deepening it just slightly, her other hand sliding from your neck to your shoulder, holding you there like she didn't plan on letting go any time soon.

it was the kind of kiss that lingered. no urgency, no need to prove anything. just the quiet reassurance, built in the way your lips moved together, familiar and easy. you tilted your head, chasing it when alessia shifted slightly, a quiet hum slipping between you both as you smiled into the kiss.

alessia felt it, of course. she always did and it made her soften even more, if that was possible. her thumb traced small, absent patterns against your hip, grounding herself in the moment, in you.

when you both finally pulled back, it was barely an inch close enough that your noses brushed, breaths still shared.

alessia didn't say anything straight away. she just looked at you, eyes softer than before, like the kiss had said everything she'd meant to.

you smiled first, quieter now. “i love you” alessia huffed a small laugh, nudging their noses together again. “i love you so much more."

—

the next match, same routine. same glance up to the stands. same smile. but this time, when alessia scored. she didn’t do her usual jump in the air and then run straight to her teammates.

she tapped the badge on her chest, then pointed straight at you.

clear and intentional. yours.

obviously later on, post match, the internet went wild again.

"y/n’s girlfriend strikes again." plastered across the caption of fan page posting about alessia’s goal

alessia reposted it to her main story, this time with a small photo in the corner which no one else but her had, a sweet photo of you mid-laugh, slightly blurred but completely perfect.

writing a small note underneath it, ‘always her person’

•

yourusername

liked by bethmead and 291,387 others

yourusername don’t mind me just doing my wag duties x

—

user stop guys mother has posted.

user god i wish i could be like y/n’s girlfriend

user but she’s only famous because she’s alessia’s girlfriend?

user who is alessia? i only know y/n’s girlfriend?

alessia love you my girl🩷

yourusername my one and only x

user ugh my parents fr

user ok but like her match fits are to die for

kyracooneycross yeah our little wag😝

---

The idea was Beth Mead's. That should have been your first, second, and third red flag. When Beth has free time, a twisted sense of humor, and a professional makeup kit, the result is never world peace.

“You don’t dare, Y/N. You’re too afraid of the Cap,” Beth said, sitting on a gym stool, twirling a blending brush between her fingers with the smile of an absolute villain.

“It’s not fear, Beth. It’s respect for my physical integrity,” you replied, though you were already letting yourself be convinced. “Leah has that protective instinct that is scary sometimes. If she thinks someone has touched me, she won’t ask for a name; she’ll ask for the nearest hospital.”

“Exactly! That’s the best part,” Beth insisted, leaning toward your face with an eyeshadow palette. “Besides, I want to see if this concealer is as good as they say. Stay still.”

For twenty minutes, Beth worked with the concentration of a surgeon. She mixed deep purples, greenish-yellows for a "healing" effect, and a touch of clear gloss to simulate recent swelling. The result was terrifying. When you looked in the mirror, you let out a gasp.

It looked real.

Too real.

“Does it hurt?” Beth asked dramatically.

“It’s going to hurt when Leah sees this.”

“It’s perfect. Now, get in there, look like the world is ending, and don’t say a word.”

The Arsenal locker room was a chaos of laughter, background music, and the sound of boots hitting the floor. Leah was in the center, one leg resting on the bench, reviewing tactical notes with Kim Little and Katie McCabe.

She was the picture of calm and leadership. You walked in with your shoulders slumped. You didn't look at anyone. You went straight to your locker, which happened to be two meters away from Leah, and began rummaging through your backpack with slow, clumsy movements.

The silence wasn't immediate, but it spread like a virus. First Katie went quiet. Then Kim. And finally, Leah looked up.

“Y/N? We’ve been waiting for you to...”

The sentence froze in mid-air. You saw the color drain from Leah’s face in a second, replaced by a deathly paleness. She dropped the papers on the floor without even noticing.

“Look at me,” Leah said, approaching where you were.

You turned slowly, letting the overhead light highlight the reddish glow and deep purple of your eye. She took a step toward you, her breathing becoming heavy. Her hands trembled slightly as she tried to reach for your face, but she stopped before touching you, as if she were afraid to break you.

“Who was it?” Her voice was low, a husky whisper that carried more danger than a scream.

“Leah, really, I’m fine, it was just an incident in the...”

“I said: who... was it?” This time the locker room trembled. Leah turned toward the rest of the players, who were watching the scene with wide eyes.

Beth, who at first was in the back holding back a laugh, stopped smiling when she saw that Leah’s jaw was so tight it looked like it was going to shatter.

“Does anyone want to explain to me why my girlfriend walks into the locker room like this?”

There was absolute silence.

A bottle fell to the floor somewhere.

Leah took another step toward the center of the locker room. “If someone touched her, we’re settling this right now.”

You started to enter real panic. Not because of the makeup. Because of the look in Leah’s eyes. It wasn't theatrical. It wasn't exaggerated. She was ready to fight.

Kim, with the calm of someone who has seen a thousand battles, approached you. She took you by the chin firmly and forced you to look toward the light. She frowned. She dampened her thumb with her water bottle and, before you could react, rubbed it hard against your cheekbone.

“Kim, what are you doing? It hurts her!” Leah shouted, ready to pounce.

Kim held up her thumb. It was stained with a bright purple color that didn't look like blood, but cosmetic.

“Leah,” Kim said, throwing a tired look at Beth, who was now trying to make herself small behind a pile of towels. “Unless Y/N bleeds glitter, I think you should review your combat priorities.”

The silence returned, but this time it was interrupted by a nervous, explosive laugh from Beth. “It’s long-lasting! The manufacturer wasn't lying!” Beth shouted from her hiding place.

Leah stood frozen. She looked at Kim’s finger, then looked at your face where there was now a blurry smudge revealing your intact skin. The air seemed to leave her lungs all at once. She covered her face with her hands and leaned against the locker, letting out a groan of frustration and relief.

“I’m going to kill you,” Leah muttered under her breath. “Both of you. I swear I’m going to kill you.”

Ten minutes later, the locker room was still a hotbed of teasing. “Watch out, here comes Mike Tyson,” Katie told Leah, while the others reenacted the scene of her breakdown.

When the locker room finally began to empty, Leah approached you with a wet wipe and began to clean off the rest of the makeup with extreme gentleness, even though she was still pretending to be angry.

“That wasn't funny, Y/N,” she whispered, avoiding your gaze. “For a moment... I felt like my heart stopped. I thought someone had actually hurt you and you couldn't defend yourself.”

“I’m sorry, really,” you said, taking her hand. “Beth started with the dares and... well, you know how she is.”

“I know. She’s walking chaos. But you should have more common sense.” Leah finally looked you in the eye, and the fury had dissipated, leaving only an immense tenderness. “I almost committed a crime for you today.”

“That’s a bit romantic, don’t you think?” You gave her a quick kiss on the nose. “My knight in shining armor... or Arsenal tracksuit.”

Leah let out a short laugh and wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close. “Don't get used to it. The next time Beth offers you a makeover, tell her you'd rather keep your girlfriend out of jail.”

“I promise,” you laughed, relaxing against her chest. “No more war paint for a while.”

Your older sister, Leah and you both played football for Arsenal and for England. You weren’t jealous of her football capabilities, because you were just as good as her. You weren’t jealous because she was captain material and you weren’t. You were far too quiet to be a captain anyway.

You weren’t jealous of Leah at all. You just envied the fact that people seemed to fall at her feet, especially girls. To be even more specific, it seemed to always be the girls that you liked or were interested in.

You lived separately, despite Leah’s several attempts at asking you to move in with her when you first got to Arsenal. But this game with Leah had been going on since you were old enough to kiss girls, and hadn’t seemed to slow down since. So, biologically, Leah was your sister, but if you had the choice, you would say you only had a brother.

-

A few months ago, you’d been talking to a really attractive girl in a bar while you were on a team night out. You hadn’t bought her a drink as of yet, because when you got comfortable talking, both of you had fresh drinks in your hand. You were both shamelessly flirting with the other, until the literal bane of your existence walked over and introduced herself.

“I’m Y/n’s sister, Leah” she smirked at the girl.

“Oh my god, that’s where I know you from” the girl gasped. “You’re Leah Williamson’s sister” she added, sending a gut wrenching pain into your chest as you nodded.

“What are you doing? Go get this pretty girl a drink” Leah smirked and pulled you off the couch, taking your place beside the girl, almost like it was never meant for you to be sitting there.

“And get me one while you’re at it” she called after you.

Leah was pretty oblivious to the fact you despised her. She definitely hadn’t put two and two together that it really bothered you that she took girls from you like it meant nothing. You could get over girls you’d just met in nightclubs, like the way you got over it that night when you got back from the bar, and found Leah practically eating the girl’s neck.

However, the final nail in the coffin was just a few weeks ago.

You’d been seeing a girl for about three months, and she’d consistently begged you to take her out to meet your friends. On your first date, the usual question of Do you have any siblings? came up, and for the first time ever, you did what you’d been wishing you could do for years.

“Just a brother, he lives in Australia” you smiled, erasing your older sister completely from your life.

When the girl found out you played football for Arsenal, somehow she already knew who your sister was, despite saying she had no interest in football on your first date.

“So Williamson and Williamson? And there’s really no connection there?” She laughed.

“Yeah, just an unfortunate coincidence” you shrugged, taking a harsh gulp of your drink.

After the full three months of begging, you took her out with you to meet your teammates. You only introduced her to Lia, because that girl, despite being your sister’s best friend, was like the older sister you wish you had. She listened to you when you spoke, and she didn’t sleep with girls that you were seeing.

You’d excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and Lia followed you in, letting you know that Orla, who you hadn’t officially asked out yet, was really nice.

“Hey, you’re Leah right?” Orla asked your sister.

“Yeah darlin’, sorry do I know you?” Leah frowned.

“I came with Y/n” she nodded.

“Ah my baby sister is here? I haven’t seen her all night” Leah chuckled.

“Is that like a joke you two have? Because of the names?” Orla giggled, still fully believing Leah was not your sister.

“Uh, well we got our name from our dad” Leah shrugged.

“Oh, are you actually sisters? She told me she just had a brother” Orla laughed.

“She - she told you she didn’t have a sister?” Leah frowned.

“I could have misheard” the girl tried to come up with a quick explanation, but Leah knew she was lying.

“I’d be intimidated if you were my sister too, in fairness” Orla giggled and slid her fingertips up Leah’s arm.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Leah smirked, letting her hand fall to Orla’s waist.

“You’re so much fitter” the girl whispered in Leah’s ear, before pressing her lips against your sisters.

In Leah’s defence. No, Leah doesn’t have a defence. Fuck that.

You hadn’t turned away from the bar yet, but Lia had her back pressed against the bar, giggling over something you were telling her about Orla, who you had planned to ask out officially tomorrow. Lia had glanced over to the dance floor, and caught the sight of the two of them.

“I don’t want you to get angry” Lia whispered softly, placing her hand on your arm.

“What?” You frowned, turning around and matching her eyeline to see Leah and Orla all over each other.

“What the fuck?” You shouted, slamming your fist against the bar.

“Maybe she didn’t know” Lia tried to make an excuse, but you were fed up of the excuses people made for Leah.

“I’m going home” you mumbled, just walking straight out the door without your jacket that was still sat in the cloak room.

You had a tendency to lose things, so Lia had your cloak room ticket and you knew she’d get it for you when she was leaving. You vowed to yourself that night that you’d never speak to Leah again, as long as you lived.

“Hey, you okay?” Alessia, your lioness and new Arsenal teammate asked, as you stormed by her.

“Yeah” you said bluntly, continuing to walk away.

You didn’t really talk to the striker much. Her and Leah were quite close and you already shared custody of Lia, so you weren’t too keen on adding Alessia into the mix. Lia had made her way back over to the couches, sitting next to Mariona, Beth and Steph.

“Everything alright?” Mariona whispered as Lia gave her a knowing we’ll talk about it later look and handed her the drink she’d bought her.

“Were you not meant to bring back five drinks? Or does big Williamson have them?” Beth laughed.

“Y/n left” Lia mumbled

“Ah boo, she always leaves early” Steph moaned.

“Less will be disappointed” Beth whispered to the Australian, who laughed.

“What’s funny?” Lia frowned, presuming Beth had made a comment about you.

“Nah, nothing Wally” Beth replied, shaking her head. “We’re just going to get our drinks” she added, pulling Steph off the couch and towards the bar.

Two people knew about your hatred for Leah and that was Lia, who you had told, and Mariona, who Lia had told. When Beth and Steph had headed off, Lia explained everything to Mariona whose mouth had shaped into a perfect O.

“Lovebirds, I’m off” Leah smirked at the couple, expecting one of them to at least say goodbye.

“Why am I getting the silent treatment, Wally?" Leah chuckled, squeezing the midfielder's knee.

"Y/n brought that girl" Lia mumbled.

“Yeah I know? Also, get this, Y/n told her that she didn’t have-”

“No Leah, she brought that girl” Lia snapped, cutting across the England defender.

“Nah, she kissed me, Wally” Leah shook her head. “Y/n told her we weren’t even related” Leah protested further.

“Why do you think that is?” Mariona grunted as Lia squeezed her hand to get her to stop talking.

“What’s that meant to mean?” Leah frowned.

“Are you coming?” Orla asked as Leah shot the girl a thumbs up.

“You’re seriously still leaving with her?” Lia scowled as Leah shrugged with a nod.

You barely knew the girl, so what was the issue? Well, that’s what Leah thought.

So, yeah, if you had to answer the question as to why you hated Leah, you’d probably say that’s why.

-

The season was a few games in now, and you’d been playing decent so far. Leah had decided after that night out, that she would give you some space and let you talk to her when you were ready. She just didn’t know that a day you were ready to talk to her was never coming.

You opted out of team stuff now, much preferring to distance yourself from things, and by things, you meant Leah. Since Orla, you can’t remember a time you even looked at or talked to a girl. Your eyes seemed to be permanently glued to the ground and you barely used your phone.

You’d pulled into the car park this morning at the same time Alessia had. It was coming into Winter and the morning starts were becoming that bit more dull and depressing. But something about this particular morning felt anything of the sort.

“Hey, good morning” Alessia waved as she hopped out of her car.

“Morning” you nodded back, pulling your bag out of the boot and wrapping it over your shoulder.

The girl was shocked you had actually responded to her as you’d been blanking most people since that night out. Not that it was anybody, apart from Leah’s, fault, you just weren’t in the mood to talk to anybody.

“How are you this morning?” She asked, deciding to push her luck to see just how much conversation she could get out of you.

“Yeah, fine. You?” You replied, with a stern face.

“I’m good, thank you” she smiled. “Hey, um” she mumbled as you closed your boot and looked over at her.

“I got you this” she said, handing you your favourite protein bar that they never seemed to stock in the canteen anymore.

“Where’d you get these?” You moaned in such excitement that Alessia scrambled her brain as to why she hadn’t thought to do this weeks ago.

“They sell them in the shop beside my house” she giggled. “You just always seem so sad when we go for lunch and they don’t have any” she explained.

“Thanks so much, Less” you smiled, and immediately chomped half the bar and began chewing it for dear life.

You’d never called the blonde Less before or even smiled at her before, and to say the striker’s heart was currently doing backflips in her chest, was an understatement.

Alessia liked you. Not in the way that other girls you’d been with had liked you, to get to Leah, Alessia liked you. A lot of people knew Alessia liked you, because she made it so obvious that she did. You on the other hand, hadn’t got the slightest idea that she was into you, and if you were honest, even if you did know, you probably wouldn’t have believed it.

Much like you didn’t believe it the next morning, and the morning after that, when you pulled into the car park at the same time as Alessia again. Every morning without fail she handed you yet another protein bar.

After a week of this morning ritual you two had going on, Alessia finally broke the routine. Although she had been enjoying your little chats from the car to the changing rooms, she wanted time away from work to get to know you more.

“Would you maybe want to do something sometime? Just the two of us?” She asked as you began to choke on your protein bar.

“I, uh - no” you sighed as your whole body froze.

“Sorry” you mumbled, darting your eyes to the floor and walking off to the nearest bathroom to hide in and catch your breath.

Meanwhile, Alessia shouldered the door of the changing room open and threw her bag, a bit violently, into her cubby.

“What’s wrong with Lessi this morning?” Leah smirked, squeezing the blonde’s shoulders.

“Piss off, Leah” Alessia groaned, slamming her locker door shut and heading out to go to the canteen.

“I’ll go” Kyra said, standing up and going after her taller blonde friend.

“Anyone seen Y/n this morning?” Leah asked.

She’d seen you around the last couple of days, but you had yet to make eye contact with her, let alone utter a single word to her. She sometimes swore you held your breath when she was around, so you didn’t have to breathe the same air as her.

“Nah, mate” Beth shook her head as a few more people got up to leave and head for food.

“Coming?” Mariona asked Lia.

“I’ll follow you” the Swiss girl smiled and took her phone out to text you.

Lia 👩🏻‍🍼

Everything ok?

You’re never late 🤔

Y/n 👶

📍 Y/n Sent Her Location

Lia rolled her eyes at first, thinking you were sending her back a cheeky message to state that you were here, until you messaged again.

Y/n 👶

Hiding

She jumped up off the bench and followed your location, leading her down a corridor that she’d never even seen, before she wound up at some bathrooms.

“Y/n?” She whispered as you swung the door open of the cubicle.

You were sitting on the floor with your back pressed against the wall, so Lia sat down opposite you.

“Something happen?” She frowned, trying to take in all the mixed emotions planted on your face.

“I feel like I’m cursed” you sighed. “I give all these girls who have no interest in me every bit of my attention, and then they all just want her”

“What’s started this again?” Lia asked softly, being nothing but supportive.

She knew you hadn’t talked to Leah, or been seeing anyone, and your noticeable absences on team night outs had meant Leah hadn’t taken anyone from you since Orla.

“Alessia asked me out” you mumbled. “And I did want to say yes, but then, I don’t know, I panicked” you pouted and put your head in your hands.

“Would you let me talk to her?” Lia asked as your heat shot up. “I can figure out if it’s genuine” she added.

“No - no, don’t” you shook your head and waved your hands. Lia was such a mum and loved to overstep.

“I’ll figure it out” you reassured her. The Swiss girl stood up and put her hand out to pull you up too.

“Do you like her?” Lia asked, watching you shrug softly as a knowing smirk took over her face.

“Come on, let’s go get breakfast” she smiled, tugging you up the corridor and dropping you off at the changing rooms so you could dump your stuff.

After she left you there, she went off to the canteen to grab something and was so thankful Alessia was stood alone, looking over the options for breakfast.

“Morning” Alessia smiled when she saw Lia.

“Morning” Lia smiled back, brushing up against her and starting to scan over the food too.

“I reckon we should start bribing the chef’s for a wider selection of pastries” Alessia giggled.

“I don’t think it’s going to happen” Lia laughed, as they both grabbed some proper food and headed to the tables to eat.

You walked in shortly after they’d sat down, just grabbing your usual bottle of water, a banana and a slice of toast, before you tried to walk over to Lia.

“Hey, good morning” Leah smiled.

You didn’t even warrant the girl with an expression, you just kept walking, whacking off her shoulder, almost like you convinced yourself she wasn’t even there.

“Come on, you can’t keep ignoring me” Leah protested.

“Watch me” you snapped back, turning your body to square up to your older, smaller sister.

“No, no” Lia shouted, jumping up off her seat and pulling you backwards.

“You, over there” she scowled at Leah, pointing her to one corner of the canteen. “You, sit down” she muttered, shoving you into the seat next to hers before going over to tell your sister off.

“You okay?” A voice asked, and you looked up to see the most unexpected person asking you that question right now.

“Yeah, sorry” you mumbled as Alessia shook her head, letting you know it was fine.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked and this time you shook your head.

You weren’t really sure how to respond because you were a bit taken a back she was showing any sign of care. You were called by the physio before Lia had come back to the table, so in her absence Mariona stepped in to explain you and Leah’s relationship to the confused looking blonde.

“Don’t take it personally, she only talks to Lia” Mariona chuckled as both girls stared over to the Swiss girl grilling your older sister.

“Did they have an argument?” Alessia frowned.

“An ongoing one for the last maybe eight years” Mariona shrugged. “Y/n hates Leah” she explained.

“Hates?” Alessia gasped. “But Leah loves-”

“I feel like I have two children” Lia grunted, unknowingly interrupting Alessia, and sitting back down. “Where is Y/n?”

“Physio” Mariona whispered, squeezing Lia’s leg to try and get her to calm down. Alessia had just finished eating and politely excused herself, heading off to get ready for the gym.

“She seemed worried” Mariona added as Lia nodded.

Lia let the whole day go by before she messaged you, and it wasn’t even to check in.

Lia 👩🏻‍🍼

Okay Alessia definitely likes you

I feel an apology and pastries would work

Y/n 👶

I asked you not to meddle 🤦‍♀️

Lia 👩🏻‍🍼

It wasn’t me 🤭

It was Mariona

Mariona 🧑‍🍼

I’m not even sorry

You lay in bed, wide awake as a wave of realisation washed over you. Alessia liked you and you liked Alessia.

You got up earlier than usual the next morning, deciding to take Lia’s advice. You pulled into the car park and as luck would have it, there was the blonde, talking to Beth and watching your car come into the carpark.

“Just because she said no, doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you” Beth was trying to reassure Alessia. “She’s such a loveable big idiot, she could have just panicked” Beth added, pulling the girl toward the complex.

“I know, but-” Alessia mumbled before she was interrupted.

“Less” you shouted. “Wait, wait, two seconds” you proceeded to practically fall out of the car, sprinting to your boot to grab your bag and set off towards the girl, stumbling over your own two feet to get to her.

“Yeah, I think you’re alright” Beth chuckled as she walked in ahead and left Alessia stood waiting for you.

“Hey” you tried to say nonchalantly, but your voice creeped a bit too high.

“Morning” she hummed back.

“Okay, uh, Lia said you liked pastries, so-” you proceeded to shove a heavy paper bag into the girls hand that was packed to the brim with a variety of baked goods.

“And I am sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude to you when I said no, I just panicked. But, what I meant to say was, yes, I would love to do something, just the two of us” you nodded as you nervously rambled on.

That’s when Alessia knew that Beth was right. You were actually an adorable, lovable, big idiot.

“Here” she smiled, sneaking a protein bar out of her pocket and handing you it. “You free on Friday?” She asked.

“Yeah” you nodded as she headed for the door.

“I might still be eating these pastries by then” she teased. “How many did you get?” She giggled.

“I just bought two of each one” you chuckled, and it was probably from then you should have realised you didn’t like Alessia, you loved her.

————————————————————————

When Friday came, you had the perfect date planned for Alessia. Fancy, expensive restaurant where there was a dress code and a bottle of wine cost a minimum of £80. You’d told the girl to dress fancy and that you’d pick her up from her house, so you parked the car outside and sighed looking at yourself in the mirror.

You knew letting yourself get attached to someone, especially when the person already had a pre-existing relationship with the blonde Devil Leah, but you really wanted to give Alessia a chance. You grabbed the bunch of flowers you got her and headed to the front door, knocking softly and putting your head down to face the ground. Once you heard the door open, you looked up and nearly choked on air. Jesus Christ how was it possible for someone to look that good. She had a long black dress on with a matching bag and heals, her hair was down, and curly which was different than the slicked back way she usually wore it.

“Hello to you too” Alessia giggled, putting her hand on your arm to make sure you were okay.

“Sorry” you coughed. “These are for you” you anxiously shoved the flowers into her hands as she blushed.

“Thanks” she smiled. “Do you want to come in?” She asked as you nodded. She had a few bits to finish up before she could comfortably say she was ready.

“Help yourself” she gestured towards the press, and you felt rude not to open it and take something.

You pulled the pantry door open and scanned the pressed, settling on a Jaffa cake as Alessia giggled at your choice. Just as you closed the door, your eyes dropped to the bottom press where there was not one, not two, but three full boxes of those protein bars.

“Do you like these too?” You asked, crouching down to take one out of the box.

“Oh” Alessia blushed. “Fuck, this is so embarrassing” she sighed before realising a laugh.

“What?” You frowned.

“I bought like a hundred of them the day you took it off me, so we’d have something to talk about every morning” she admitted.

“You did that for me?” You asked, a little taken aback.

“It was stupid” she shook her head and walked towards you to close the press. “I’m ready when you are” she added, nodding her head towards the front door.

“Follow me out to the car” you smiled as she pulled your arm back towards her.

“Leave the car, I ordered a taxi” she explained.

“But I-”

“You can park it in the driveway” she said, cutting across you. You did as instructed and pulled into the driveway, watching the taxi pull up as you jumped of the driver seat.

“Less, taxi’s here” you shouted as the girl sprinted out of the house, having just set the alarm and locked the front door.

“Ready then?” you smiled, sticking your hand out for her to take.

“Ready” she smiled back and slotted her fingers between yours.

You did everything you should do on a first date. You let her have the more comfortable seat and you let her order first. It wasn’t a thing that you were really getting to know each other, you already knew each other from playing against and with one another for several years.

“Go on then, ideal day off” you gestured to the girl to explain as you started to dig deeper into who you both were as people.

“Oh, good one” she hummed, sipping her wine and placing the glass back down on the table.

“I do enjoy a stress free day, so maybe shopping, or visit the family. An ideal day though would probably involve a spa, maybe a quick hotel trip for the night, tucked into bed after a nice dinner and watch a film” she smiled. “You go” she giggled.

“Rot in bed for the day, read a book, watch a film” you shrugged with a cheeky smile. “It was during my rotting in bed the other day that I realised I’ve kind of liked you for a while” you mumbled.

“Well I think everyone knows I like you” Alessia chuckled. “But I’m glad my protein bars worked and not my personality” she quipped as you stared at her for a second, to make sure she wasn’t being serious.

“If I’m honest, relationships, even just like people, aren’t really my thing” you shrugged and placed your hand back on the table to grab your wine.

“Why’s that?” Alessia asked softly, putting her hand up to her chin and tilting her head, fully glued to you as you anxiously sipped from your glass.

“Feel like if I tell you, it’ll just curse this” you sighed.

“What? Are you going to tell me I’m dating a mass murderer or something?” Alessia smirked, causing you to laugh and shake your head.

“So what? We’re dating now?” You asked, a mixture of smugness and absolutely petrifying fear in your voice.

“No” Alessia shook her head, smirk still ever present on her face. “We’re just hanging out in this fancy restaurant that has a dress code that I went and bought this dress specifically for” she giggled.

She’d put effort into this date, much like you had bought your outfit, Alessia had dragged a multitude of people with her to help her get the perfect one.

“So, are you going to tell me why, if you liked me, you almost asked to transfer clubs when I made a move?” She asked, with a soothing calmness to her voice.

“Any girl I’ve ever gone out with, or you know, been into, or whatever, they uh-” you stumbled at the last part, not really sure how to phrase the next part.

“Take things too fast?” Alessia guessed as you shook your head. If that was the issue, you wouldn’t be complaining.

“They uh, they all actually like Leah” you eventually got out.

“Oh” Alessia frowned. “Is that why you and Leah-” she tried to phrase her own sentence now, but was struggling.

“Kind of” you said to stop the girl scrambling at her brain for the right words. “I would probably get over it if they just liked Leah, but she’s basically slept with them all” you huffed as Alessia’s face dropped.

That’s why you hated Leah, now she got it. Instead of being apologetic, Alessia actually said something way more important and reassuring.

“I love your sister as a friend and all, but I personally don’t get the attraction” she laughed. “You, are far more attractive to me than she is, or anybody is, and I don’t want you to doubt for a minute that what we’re doing isn’t genuine” she placed her hand over yours and squeezed it lightly before you were interrupted by the waiter with food.

You chatted more over dinner, and after finishing a bottle of wine between you, you both decided to skip dessert.

“That’ll be £270” the waiter said and you speedily produced your card to pay.

“Y/n, absolutely not” Alessia tried to protest, reaching over to try and snatch your card from you.

“Less, absolutely yes” you chuckled, quickly confirming your pin on the card machine and waiting for the green tick to appear to remove it.

“Thank you ladies, have a lovely night” the waiter smiled as he scooted off to the next table.

Alessia had ordered another taxi and you’d agreed to leave your car in her driveway overnight and collect it in the morning. You were dropping her off in the taxi first before continuing towards your own house.

“You didn’t need to take me somewhere so expensive” Alessia mumbled from beside you in the car.

“I wanted to take you somewhere really nice” you shrugged, leaning your head back on the head rest and looking towards her with a cheeky smile.

“Next time, I’m taking you out” Alessia stated and before you could say anything she inputted again. “Not up for debate” she shook her head and squeezed your hand again.

It didn’t take too long of a drive until you arrived at the girl’s house.

“I’ll be back in two seconds” you mumbled to the taxi driver as you jumped out of the taxi and walked Alessia to her door. “Thanks for coming out with me” you smiled.

“Thanks for asking me” she giggled. “After you rejected me” she teased, punching you lightly in the arm

“Sorry” you chuckled softly.

“You keep saying sorry” she replied, tone just as soft as yours.

“Sorry” you smirked as she squeezed your cheeks.

She released her grip after a few seconds, but her hands stayed cupping your cheeks as you felt your head getting softly tugged towards her. Your lips had barely touched hers when you both jumped apart at the loud sound of a car horn.

“Are you coming back in or is someone paying me?” The taxi man shouted as you and the blonde burst out laughing. You jogged over and apologised before paying the taxi driver.

“Where were we?” You said as the striker opened her front door and pulled you inside the house.

It took her a total of a split second to push your back against the front door and kiss you, a lot harder than the initial kiss you were going to share before you were interrupted. Her hands found your neck and yours landed on her lower back, tugging her closer to you as she deepened the kiss.

“Don’t go home tonight” Alessia breathed out as she pulled away from you.

“Why would I? You have a shelf full of my favourite snack” you smirked, watching the girl roll her eyes before pulling your head into her neck.

-

Alessia made you feel good about yourself, a thing no other girl had made you feel before, where you knew the feelings were genuine.

You both planned more dates for one another, and ended up having fun on them over the last couple weeks. You brought out your competitive sides when you went bowling and mini golfing, or your lazy sides when you spent the day on one of your sofas watching old films and getting lost in kisses.

You’d sometimes show up to training together, and often opting to have breakfast or lunch, just sharing eachother’s company. Although nothing was official with you two, you liked her, and she liked you, and that was clear to everyone.

Even your sister noticed you smiling a lot more nowadays, although, when she’d try to wave or say hello to you, you’d blank her and look straight through her. Leah couldn’t really pinpoint why you were happy, because you made sure not to even look at Alessia when Leah was around.

On your most recent day off, which Alessia had newly labelled rot days, you booked the two of you into a hotel. You made sure that it had a nice spa and restaurant attached to it. It was over dinner you asked Alessia to be your girlfriend, officially, and she of course, said yes.

You both decided to keep it fairly low key, you’d only told one person, Lia, which meant at least two people knew, Mariona being the other. Alessia had told three people, Lotte, Ella and Vic, and before long, everyone knew.

Well, all expect one. Alessia never once asked you to resolve your differences with Leah, but she also in turn asked you to respect that she was still friendly with your sister.

-

You’d been happily dating for several months, and officially together for two of them, when your relationship was first tested.

“Baby” Alessia practically screamed from the kitchen as you paused your game on the TV and sprinted in.

“What? Less what’s wrong?” You shouted as you got in, looking at the girl who was gripping her phone with both hands.

“The group chat” she squealed, jumping up and down in excitement.

You had that group chat muted since you joined Arsenal, whereas Alessia was working her way up to being an admin of it.

“They got us Coldplay tickets. Coldplay tickets, for tomorrow”.

Alessia had been trying to get tickets for months, and when the concert date had landed up being 24 hours from now, she’d all but gave up hope.

“Is the whole team going?” You asked, grabbing a snack from the fridge as your hand was swatted away and the dinner cooking in the pot was pointed at.

“We’re all invited, yeah” she smiled and nodded.

“Don’t know if it’s my thing” you shrugged.

“We can sit on the opposite side of where she is” Alessia sighed. “I am begging you, I want to go so badly and it would be so much better with you there” she pleaded.

“Yeah, okay” you nodded with a soft smile as she jumped into your arms, squealing and peppering your face with kisses.

She’d just jumped down and went back to stirring the contents of the pot, simultaneously replying in the chat to say you’d both be there.

The next day, you followed the instructions of the text message and headed to the VIP entrance of Wembley.

“Russo and Williamson” Alessia giggled, squeezing your hand.

“Russo? Yeah, got you here” The security man smiled. “I already have a Williamson in” he shrugged.

“Yeah, I’m the other one” you frowned.

“There isn’t another one on my list” he stated. “There is a Russo x 2, so could just be a mistake, one minute” he ran off to clear it with his boss as you huffed in frustration that Leah continued to ruin your life at every chance she got.

“All fine, go on ahead” he said after being gone for several minutes, ushering you both inside. You found the suite Arsenal had booked for you, a mix of members from the men and women’s teams.

“I’ll go get you a drink darlin’” you kissed Alessia’s cheek as you left to get to the bar and she skipped over to the group.

“Lessi” multiple people cheered as she walked towards them.

“I thought big Williamson was coming too?” Beth asked.

“She’s just at the bar. She’s going to kill whichever one of you sorted the tickets, her name wasn’t on the list” Alessia chuckled.

“It was Leah” Lotte confirmed.

Alessia had just replied in the group chat saying yes by x2, presuming the person sorting the tickets knew that meant you and her. But how was Leah to know when neither of you had told her you were a couple?

You’d just got you and Alessia’s drinks at the bar and felt a shoulder knock into you.

“Hey, I didn’t think you-”

“Can you move?” You asked your older sister, who was stood in your way.

“Yeah, sorry” she mumbled, standing backwards as you walked by her and headed to the group.

You’d bumped into Lia and Mariona on the way there, and had gotten distracted talking to them. The conversation, as usual, was almost like proud parents talking to their child. After ten minutes, Alessia had excused herself to go and find you, but only ending up finding your moping older sister, sitting alone with her arm stretched across the back of the couch.

“Hey Lee, everything okay?” Alessia asked, sitting down next to her.

“Yeah” Leah nodded, sipping from her strong drink. “Just family stuff, you wouldn’t get it” she shrugged.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Alessia asked.

“Well, my sister hates me for some reason, and I didn’t even know she was coming tonight. Whereas you brought your brother” Leah mumbled.

“I didn’t bring my brother” Alessia frowned with a giggle.

“You said Russo by two” Leah muttered.

“Do you see either of my brothers here?” Alessia asked as Leah took a quick glance of the room and shook her head. “I brought my girlfriend, actually” Alessia corrected her.

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone” Leah smiled, bumping her knee off of Alessia’s. “Will have to meet her and give her the talk” Leah laughed.

“Think other Lia is in the middle of that” Alessia smirked, as Leah looked over to find Lia talking to-

“Hang on” Leah frowned. “You and Y/n?” Leah asked.

“We’ve been together for a little while” Alessia nodded.

“Was wondering why she’s been so happy the last while” Leah replied. “Didn’t know that you were the cause” Leah added, poking the girls nose, just at the second you looked over.

Your mind spiralled for a second taking the two of them in, Alessia giggling over something Leah was saying, your sister with a stupid smug smile on her face. Leah’s hand was sprawled across the back of the couch with Alessia sitting in front of it. You couldn’t believe this was happening again, not with Alessia.

“They’re just talking” Lia said, cupping your face and trying to meet your eyes. “She wouldn’t do that to you, even if Leah tried” Lia added.

“Think Lia’s trying to steal her from you” Leah laughed, and pointed towards the pair of you.

“I’d more so say Lia’s trying to convince her that you’re not trying to steal me” Alessia replied, a bit quick witted.

“Why would I do that?” Leah frowned as Alessia shot her a look.

“Is that- that’s why she doesn’t speak to me?” Leah asked. “Because I kissed a girl she brought out one time?” Leah laughed as Alessia shrugged. Alessia knew the ins and outs of everything, but it wasn’t her job to explain it to Leah.

“The support act is starting” you mumbled, sticking your hand out for Alessia to take, which she did and stood up with you.

“Y/n, wait” Leah shouted after you. Alessia felt her hand being squeezed tightly and your pace pick up as hers slowed.

“Please talk to her” Alessia whispered.

You stared so hard at your girlfriend she thought you were going to throw over the balcony in Wembley. She’d stalled you long enough for Leah to get beside you and your girlfriend politely excused herself to catch up with Vic and Kyra.

“Leah, I don’t wanna do this here” you mumbled, the first coherent sentence you’d said to her in years.

“You hate me” Leah whispered. “And you’ve never told me why you hate me”

“You know why” you bit back.

“Is it because of Orla?” Leah asked and that opened the can of worms Leah was after

“Jesus Christ Leah” you groaned. “It’s not just Orla, it’s every girl I’ve ever liked or tried to date. They all were using me to get to you, and it’s not that part that made me hate you, it’s the fact you got with practically all of them, and made me feel like I can’t fucking trust anyone or-”

“So you’re annoyed because I got with some girls you’d spoken to?” She frowned. “After Orla, you haven’t spoken a word to me”

“I was seeing Orla for three months” you huffed as Leah’s face dropped. “She didn’t even know you were my sister, and you still managed to ruin it” you shouted.

“Y/n-”

“Can we please just-” before you could say anything else, Leah had pressed herself against you and squeezed you hard.

“I’m so sorry” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to ever upset you, you’re more important to me than any stupid girl” she added.

“Even me?” A voice said from behind you. “Babe, are you okay?”

“Yeah” Leah nodded. “Y/n this is Elle, Elle this is Y/n my, uh”

“Sister” you smiled as Leah looked at you with a smile on her face too.

“Elle’s my girlfriend” Leah added, as you and the girl shook hands.

“Come on, we’re missing it” Elle smiled, dragging both of you outside.

You stood for the entire concert trapped in a LW sandwich, with Alessia wrapped up in your arms. It was almost like you had everything you wanted as Alessia leaned back during one of the band’s slower songs and pulled your head towards her.

“I love you” she whispered in your ear.

“I love you too” you mumbled back, kissing her cheek.

“Oh, c’mon,” she whined, rushing to catch up with you. “I was just joking around.” You ignored her, barging through the door and out into the summer sunshine. “It’s not that deep, lighten up. It’s just a phone call home,” she called after you. 

“Whatever,” you huffed, dismissing her entirely. 

“Are you mad at me?” She said in that teasing voice that made your heart flutter annoyingly. 

“Yes,” you deadpanned, beginning your walk home. 

You could tell it had shocked her a little. You weren’t really paying too much attention though - your head brewing with anxiety at the prospect of what awaited you at home. 

“Wait!” She was running now, tugging on your arm to slow you down. “Seriously?” She asked in a tone you had never really heard from her before. 

“Yes.” You weren’t looking at anywhere but her. “You might not give a flying fuck but I do. I have to. The club won’t take girls who piss about. They made that clear. Rugby is about discipline and order.” You echoed your coaches words. “Your talent will get you far in football, Ky.” You sighed softly. “I can’t rely on that with rugby.” 

You were fairly sure you stopped breathing when her fingers intertwined with yours. You both waited a moment. 

“I’m sorry.” You both said at the same time, drawing a funny huff from you and an amused smile from her. 

“Why are you sorry?” Kyra asked, her dark eyes wide. “I’m the one who keeps landing you in trouble.” 

“I was rude.” You shrugged. 

“No,” she took a step closer. “You weren’t.” You swallowed, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks as you realised just how close she was. Not for the first time, you wondered if she tasted like the way she smelled. Warm vanilla with a hint of … something you couldn’t quite place. 

“I never noticed you have a scar on your cheek.” Carefully, her free hand traced the faint line that rested just under your eye. 

“From a scrum.” You were whispering now, eyes locked on Kyra’s lips. “A girl hadn’t trimmed her nails.” 

“Sounds painful.” You just shrugged.

“I really am sorry that I keep getting you in trouble,” she whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t hear her. “It’s … I just …” You had never seen Kyra at a loss for words. “It’s just sometimes I think that that’s the only way I can get your attention.” 

Your heart froze and then sped up all at once. 

“The only way you look at me for longer than a second is if I piss you off. Plus you look cute when you’re angry.” She was smiling shyly now, eye eyes tracing your features, her body still impossibly close. 

“You always have my attention, Ky.” 

The rest was history. You hadn’t kissed her that day. No matter how much you had wanted to. You hadn’t even asked her to be your girlfriend or ask her to just simply hang out. But you had eventually. 

It was after your call up to the Wallaroos. She was making waves in the Young Matildas, finally being recognised by the senior squad for her talent. She was the first person you told. Before your parents, before your coaches, before anyone. It wasn’t anything dramatic or full of fanfare. You had told her you had the call. She had cupped your face. You had leant down. She had reached onto her tiptoes. You weren’t sure who kissed who technically. 

It was a no-brainer for Kyra to move to Sweden. You had never been. Rugby wasn’t big there, so you never had a reason to go outside of a holiday that you would never have been able to afford anyway. But then, suddenly, there was Kyra. She insisted you come to her as much as you could. You were being noticed by English clubs more and more now you had cemented yourself in the national team and the offers were looking tempting. You had to admit. The quick flight from London to Stockholm was far more enjoyable than the over-a-day-long trip that usually left you tired and sore. 

You had signed for the Quinns on a foggy day in April. 

Kyra had called the moment you texted her the news. Her voice was groggy but the excitement in it was unmistakable. You could picture her smile, that same crooked grin that hadn’t changed since high school. She was proud of you. She always had been.

“London, huh?” she’d teased. “Guess I’ll have to get used to you being all fancy now.”

You’d rolled your eyes even though she couldn’t see it. “Yeah, right. You still owe me dinner for missing my debut against France.”

Kyra laughed softly, that warm, lazy sound that never failed to calm you. “You mean the debut where you got sin-binned for tackling someone twice your size?”

“She deserved it,” you’d argued, smiling despite yourself. “And you loved it.”

There was a pause. Just a second too long to be casual.

“I did,” she whispered.

That was the thing about the two of you. The distance never really dulled it. No matter the miles or the time zones, it was like muscle memory. The rhythm of being hers, in every way that counted, was carved into you.

When she came to London a few months later, everything slotted back into place. You’d met her at Heathrow, both pretending not to notice the cameras or the fans who recognised her, or you, first. She’d dropped her bags and ran straight into you, laughing when you caught her, breathless and bright, like nothing in the world could go wrong.

You’d kissed her properly then. No nerves, no hesitation. Just months of wanting and missing, finally finding home again.

For a while, life made sense. Early training sessions, weekend matches, FaceTime calls from hotel rooms, and those rare nights when you could fall asleep with her hair tickling your chin. You didn’t need much more than that.

But the world had a way of testing you. Injuries. Media scrutiny. Her endless travel schedule with the national team. Your travel. Your pressures. The little gaps that began to widen until even texts felt delayed, forced, heavy.

You weren’t falling out of love. That wasn’t it. You were just... running on empty. Both of you.

The night before she left for another international camp, she’d found you sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at nothing.

“Hey,” she said softly, crouching in front of you. “Talk to me.”

You’d swallowed hard. “I just miss you even when you’re here.”

Kyra’s eyes had softened. She reached for your hand, tracing small circles on your skin. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

And figure it out you did. Or well Ian Wright did for you. In the form of a shiny new contract for Kyra. 

So now you were sat in your joint flat in the middle of London. With your joint TV showing some random show as you lay, tangled up, on your joint couch.

“I have a question.” Kyra announced, her voice muffled in your hoodie as she rested her head on your chest.

You grunted your response, almost half asleep from how warm you were. She was like the perfect weighted blanket, oozing out heat and that soft, warm scent that was so uniquely her.

“Come to the game on Sunday?”

That was the only downside of both of you being professional athletes. You were almost never able to see each other’s games. If you were playing, so was she. It sucked, but you made it work, often refusing to look at the scores until you were able to rewatch the match.

It was a big game for Kyra - a place in the final up for grabs, and Renee had promised her a spot in the starting XI.

“Huh?” You were still lagging behind a little, your brain not quite there yet.

“Sunday. The semis. Emirates. Sold out stadium. Starting XI.”

“Yes, I am aware of what’s happening on Sunday, baby.”

Kyra shifted, moving to straddle your hips. “Will you come watch? You’re free, right?”

You blinked at her, trying to fight the smile creeping onto your face. “You checked my fixture list, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” she said, drawing out the word in that singsong way that told you she definitely had.

You sighed, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me.” She was grinning now, sitting taller, her hands resting against your chest. “And I really want you there. Please.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You nervous?”

Kyra scoffed immediately, but you caught the flicker in her eyes, the tiny spark of uncertainty that only you ever seemed to notice. “No. Just… you know. It’s a big one. First time I’ll start in front of a full Emirates this season. And I don’t get many minutes anymore so.” 

Your hand came up to cup her jaw, thumb brushing gently over her skin. “You’ll smash it. You always do.”

She leaned into your touch, her eyelids fluttering closed for a second. “Yeah, but I play better when I know you’re watching.”

You felt that familiar tug in your chest. That same stupid, aching love that had followed you since you were teenagers getting yelled at again in maths. She had this way of making even the simplest words feel heavy, important.

“Alright,” you murmured. “I’ll be there.”

Her eyes lit up instantly, wide and bright. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Kyra grinned like a kid, bouncing slightly where she sat. “You’re gonna love it. Big crowd, big stakes-”

“Big ego,” you teased, laughing when she swatted your chest.

“Shut up,” she said through a laugh. “I’m serious. I want you there. It feels like… I don’t know. It’ll be more … with you there.”

You stared at her for a long moment - the way her hair fell in soft waves around her face, the glint of determination in her dark eyes, the faint freckles that the cameras never seemed to catch.

“Baby,” you said quietly, voice full of love.

Her smile softened. “You’re such a sap.” She rolled her eyes.

It was your turn to scoff now. “Maybe.” You grinned up at her. “But I’m your sap.”

Kyra leaned down and kissed you, slow and lingering, her breath tasting faintly of mint and something sweet. When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours.

“Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m scoring one for you on Sunday.”

You chuckled. “Make it two, and I’ll wear your kit to training Monday.”

Her laugh filled the room, warm and alive. “Deal.”

The Emirates was loud. Louder than any of your matches ever were. Tens of thousands of people swarmed around you, the sound rolling like thunder through the stands. It was electric - alive in a way that made your heart race that little bit faster.

You could feel the other friends and family watching you, sneaking curious glances when they thought you wouldn’t notice. You didn’t blame them. To them, you were just some stranger sitting stiffly in a hoodie that was far too warm for the occasion, jaw tight and eyes locked on the pitch. 

Despite being with Kyra for years, you’d never really met her teammates or their families. During the regular season, you were just as busy as she was - your own games, your own camps, your own chaos.

“Hello.” A slightly older woman had approached, her tone friendly but cautious, like she wasn’t sure if she was interrupting. You blinked, pulled from your thoughts. You’d been staring down at the pitch, eyes flicking from where Kyra was stretching with her teammates to your phone screen, where your knee was bouncing impatiently against the row of seats in front of you. God, it wasn’t even kick-off yet and you were already nervous enough to be sick.

“Oh, um,” you cleared your throat quickly. “Hi.” You straightened a little, automatically shifting to the side as if you were in her way.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before,” she said kindly. “Which of the girls are you friends with?”

“Oh, uh, Ky-” you stuttered, your mouth suddenly dry. “Kyra. Kyra Cooney-Cross.” You mumbled the words like a secret, just in case she somehow hadn’t caught the name.

Her face brightened instantly. “Oh, how lovely! She’s such a sweet girl. Mario, Gio, come say hi.” She waved two men over - both of whom eyed you curiously as they approached. You offered a polite, sheepish smile.

“This is…” the woman started, turning to you expectantly.

“Y/N.”

“This is Y/N,” she repeated warmly. “She’s with Kyra.”

“Cool, cool.” The younger man, Gio, you think, grinned, lifting his beer in greeting. “So,” he began, clearing his throat like he was buying time as he came to stand next to you, “how do you know Kyra? Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

You hesitated for half a beat. “Oh, um… I’m … she’s my girlfriend.”

His eyebrows rose. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Going on six years now.”

“Wow.” He gave a low whistle, impressed. “Didn’t realise she’d been off the market that long.”

Mario laughed quietly beside him. “Shows how much attention you pay.”

Gio shrugged, grinning. “Fair point. How come you weren’t at the Champions League final or anything, then? Don’t think I saw you.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “I wasn’t able to go. We had World Cup prep camp.”

That caught his attention. “World Cup?”

“Yeah,” you said with a small, self-conscious shrug. “I play rugby.”

Both men perked up. “No way,” Mario said. “You play in the PWR?”

“Yeah. For the Quins-Harlequins,” you explained. “And the Wallaroos. The Aussie national team.”

“Boo,” Gio teased immediately, grinning. “We’re Saracens fans.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “Of course you are.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Mario said, nudging his friend. “He boos everyone. It’s a talent, really.”

“Yeah, well,” you shot back lightly, “I’ll remember that next time we thrash you.”

That earned a few laughs from the small group. You felt your shoulders relax, just a little.

“So you’re the mysterious girlfriend,” Carol said with a knowing smile. “I’ve heard your name before. Kyra’s mentioned you once or twice.”

“Only once or twice?” you joked, though your cheeks warmed all the same.

“Oh, maybe more,” she teased. “She talks about you a lot, actually. Always smiling when she does.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just smiled softly and glanced back at the pitch. The players were warming up now, and even from a distance you could pick out Kyra’s figure instantly - goofing around yet had that familiar fierce determination etched into her movements. You felt a lump form in your throat, a mix of nerves and pride.

“She looks good,” Mario said, following your gaze.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “She always does.”

The older woman reached out, giving your arm a gentle pat. “You must be very proud of her.”

You nodded, unable to take your eyes off the pitch. “More than she knows.”

If you thought the atmosphere pre-match was intense, you were proved wrong after the final whistle. It had been a tight match, ball rocketing from end to end, countless of almosts from both teams and what felt like a thousand hours of extra time. 

Kyra had stayed true to her word, sending two goals rippling into the back of the net. 

“Kyra,” Alessia called, waving her friend over to her. “Who is that?” 

Kyra followed one of Alessia’s perfectly manicured nails. 

You were standing in between Alessia’s dad and one of her brothers. At some point during the match, you had taken your hoodie off, revealing the Australia shirt on you had underneath. Her Australian shirt. With her number on the back of it. She couldn’t help the blush that rose over her cheeks. 

“That’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And who is Y/N?” 

Kyra just shurgged, smiling and winking at Alessia before running off. 

You weren’t really paying attention when Kyra entered the family and friends room - you were distracted, looking out at the now-empty Emirates. It was strange, that you, a girl from Queensland, had fallen into this life. From being terrorised by Kyra in the maths classroom to watching her perform on the world’s biggest stage. You were in awe of it all really. 

“Hey, stranger.” Kyra’s teasing voice sounded from behind you as she slipped her arms around your waist. 

“Hey, baby.” You turned, tucking her under your arm and kissing the top of your head. “Good game, lovie.” 

“Scored for you.” Kyra squeezed you tighter. “Twice.” 

“And they were stunning goals too.” 

“So, do you want my match-worn shirt for tomorrow or have you got one already?” She teased, lifting her head to look up at you. 

“Fuck off,” you laughed rolling your eyes. 

“Kyra.” A familiar Aussie accent cut off whatever Kyra was about to say next 

You looked over, two brunettes were standing side-by-side, one more tanned than the other with perfectly highlighted blonde streaks. 

“Yes, Steffy?” 

So that was Steph. You had heard all about the woman Kyra admired the most in football. Her honorary big sister that kept her sharp eye on the younger player now that she was in London. 

“Who is this?” The non-Steph asked. 

“Y/N.” Kyra blinked, smiling cheekily. 

“Hi,” Steph waved awkwardly. 

Non-Steph didn’t acknowledge you. “Yeah, and who is Y/N?” 

“Youse are lookin’ awfully chummy there, mate.” A thick Irish accent cut Kyra off before she could speak. 

“Shut it, Katie,” Kyra huffed. “If you’d let me finish my sentence…” Kyra paused. She always had a flare for the dramatics. “Y/N is my girlfriend.”

Steph blinked. Katie blinked. You blinked.

Then Katie let out a howl that echoed through the family room. “I knew it!” she yelled, smacking Steph’s arm so hard the older woman winced. “I told you she had a missus! Didn’t I, Steph? Didn’t I say there was no way she just disappears after every trainin’ session because she’s ‘catching up on sleep’?”

Steph was rubbing her arm, deadpanned. “Yeah, well, you also said she was secretly seeing a DJ from Hackney, so forgive me if I didn’t take you seriously.”

Kyra groaned, burying her face in your shoulder. “Oh my God, I hate all of you.”

You, meanwhile, were trying very hard not to laugh. “DJ from Hackney?” you whispered to her.

“Don’t,” she muttered into your chest. “They’ll never shut up.”

Steph, to her credit, recovered first. She extended her hand politely, all captain composure. “Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’ve heard about you.”

You took her hand, smiling. “Good things, I hope.”

Steph smirked. “Depends who you ask.”

Katie cackled again, already halfway across the room shouting for someone named Leah to come meet “Kyra’s Amazonian rugby girlfriend.”

Kyra groaned louder, hiding her face again. “This is the worst day of my life.”

You snorted. “Pretty sure you just scored two wonder goals at the Emirates.”

“Second worst day,” she muttered darkly, voice muffled against you.

By the time Leah, Alessia, and half the Arsenal squad had been dragged over by Katie, all grinning, all far too amused, Kyra had accepted her fate.

“So,” Leah said, folding her arms and grinning, “you’re the mysterious Y/N we keep hearing about, huh?”

You blinked. “You’ve heard about me?”

“Oh, constantly,” Alessia said, bouncing on her heels. “Usually followed by Kyra sighing dramatically and saying ‘you wouldn’t understand.’”

Steph nodded sagely. “Or blushing at her phone.”

Kyra pointed at all of them, glaring. “Traitors. Every single one of you.”

Leah snorted. “Please. We’re just relieved you didn’t make her up.”

That got a full belly laugh out of you, the kind that made Kyra’s head snap toward you, eyes soft even as her cheeks turned red. You were laughing so hard you barely noticed Katie sidle up beside you.

“She’s been smitten with you for ages,” the Irishwoman whispered conspiratorially. “It’s disgusting, honestly. We had a bet about whether you were real. I owe Russo twenty quid now.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Tell her to buy herself something nice.”

Katie grinned, clearly delighted. “Oh, I like you.”

Kyra groaned one final time. “I’m never bringing you to a game again.”

“Sure you are,” you said easily, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Someone’s gotta wear your shirt.”

That earned you a chorus of “awwws” and a dramatic gag from Katie, who shouted, “God, get a room!” before running away laughing.

Kyra tilted her head up at you, eyes still warm despite her mock pout. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

You smirked, leaning down just enough for your breath to brush her ear. “A little.”

She tried to fight it, but the grin slipped through anyway – small, bashful, and so perfectly her.

“Fine,” she muttered, poking your chest. “But next time you wear my kit, you’re sitting in the away section.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That a promise or a threat?”

She laughed, shaking her head and stealing a quick kiss. It was brief but certain, the kind that made every teasing voice around you fade into the background.

When she pulled away, she was smiling so wide it almost hurt to look at her. “Both,” she said softly.

You chuckled, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “God, you’re impossible.”

-----

The elevator doors close, and you press the button to go to the bottom level of your apartment building. It was time for your son to go to sleep, but he wasn’t having it, so you thought maybe a walk around the neighbourhood would help. When you get downstairs the elevator dings to let you know it arrived before the door opens. 

The doors open and you’re about to push the stroller out when you notice that your neighbour Leah is waiting to go up with her suitcase. “Hi!” She says with a bright smile, you return a tired one that doesn’t go unnoticed by her. “Hey, how was your holiday?”

“Very nice, and much needed. I don’t want to hold you and little Leo up.” She says looking at the cooing baby in the stroller. “Oh this little guy, I’m just going on a walk to hopefully get him to take his afternoon nap.” 

“Alright, you go do that, the little one needs his sleep. Do you want to come over for a tea later? A little way to thank you for taking care of my apartment while I was gone.” You try to tell her that’s not necessary, but she insists. “And bring the rest of your family too!” She calls after you as the elevator doors are about to close.

Later that afternoon Leah hears a knock on the door while she is on the phone. She quickly makes her way over to the door while keeping her phone conversation going. Her smile grows when she sees you standing on the other side of the door with Leo in your arms. She opens the door wider to invite you in and mouths a quick ‘sorry’ as she steps aside.

You take a seat on the couch while Leah walks to the kitchen with her phone still at her ear. Taking a moment to set up the baby blanket for Leo, so he lay down and wiggle around.

“Hey, sorry for that, work.” She said motioning to her phone before she pockets the device. “Oh you're fine.” You're quick to reassure her. 

“Should I wait for Jess to make some tea?” Leah instantly clocks the change in your expression and posture. How you immediately tensed up, and a sad look took over your features. “Oh no, what happened?” She takes a seat next to you right away.

“She left.” A tear escapes, and you quickly wipe it away. “Two weeks ago, she announced that she didn’t want a kid after all and left us.” 

Leah stares at you in disbelief, “That's horrible, I'm so sorry she did that, and I'm sorry for bringing it up.” You shake your head and wipe away the next tear. “You're fine.” She puts her hand on your shoulder and gives it a light squeeze, “Alright, tea for two coming up.” 

She walks back in with two cups of tea, and sits down next to you again. “Are you alright?” Leah asks when she sees the look on your face. “Yeah, just thinking of how I’m going to be able to do this all on my own when I have to go back to work in two weeks.” 

“I know it’s not the same, but you’re not alone. My offer to watch him on my days off still stands. I’m always just a call away, and often even next door if you need anything.” Her expression was serious, wanting to make sure that you knew she really meant what she said. 

Leah stayed true to her word. The first time you asked her to watch Leo was when you had an appointment at your job, just an hour and a half trip to pick up the stuff that you would need for your first day back, and to catch up with some of your coworkers. When you came back to your place, you found Leo sound asleep on Leah’s chest. The sight warmed your heart, he seemingly enjoyed her company, and you started to think that maybe everything would turn out alright with a little help.

Raising a baby as a single parent was way more expensive than you had anticipated, but Leo deserves the best, so you keep spending most of your income on him and rent, leaving very little for yourself. You keep telling yourself it’s fine though, he needed it to grow. However, your energy levels were getting lower and lower. Maybe that is why you hadn’t noticed that every time Leah had watched Leo, his diapers were restocked, a new baby formula pot would be behind the open one, or the pile of baby clothes in your living room was neatly folded while you thought you still needed to do that. 

Leah had left for England camp this morning, so she wouldn’t be able to help you out for the next couple of weeks. She had given you the phone numbers of her mum and some of her closest friends that would be able to help you if anything would come up, which you were really grateful for. She even came by to say bye to Leo and you before she left.

Maybe an hour or so after she left, she called you. “Hey, so I just got a notification that my groceries are going to be delivered in twenty minutes, I completely forgot to cancel the order. Would you maybe be able to receive the order at my place?” You were still home, so you said that wouldn’t be a problem. “That’s great, thank you so much. Oh, and you can also take the groceries to your place, since they would just go bad at mine. No reason to let perfectly good food go to waste.” You were tearing up at the thought of having a fully stocked fridge, and before you could thank her, you heard huffled voices on the other side of the line before Leah told you she had to go.

When the groceries arrived, all you had to do was sign for them. You took them back to your place to sort out, anything that wouldn’t go bad, you would bring back to Leah’s place later. Just the things that wouldn’t be good by the time she got back you would take.

As you started to unpack, you realised that she had ordered a bunch of things you enjoyed to eat. Not just dinner, but also snacks you loved but had convinced yourself you couldn’t splurge on anymore now that you had to take care of Leo. You thought it was just a coincidence though, Leah probably liked them herself too.

But then you saw it, she had ordered formula, diapers, wipes, baby food, and even some rash creams. That’s when it all started to click. Those random extra packs of wipes that would randomly appear in your diaper bag, or the formula being full when you thought it was almost empty. Leah had been helping you without your knowledge for months. 

The day Leah would get back, you went to the grocery store with the money you had been able to save thanks to her generosity with getting you groceries for the time she was away. It wasn’t a lot, but you wanted to make something to thank her for what she had done for your family.

So, that evening you set up Leo’s high chair in Leah’s apartment and started cooking in her kitchen after you had watered her plants one last time. You knew Leah would come back any moment now, as she had texted to ask if she could come by once she was settled to say hi to Leo, that thought alone warmed your heart. Over these past few months Leah hadn’t just helped the two of you, she genuinely cared for Leo.

The smell of cooking instantly reached Leah as she rolled her suitcase into her apartment. She heads straight to the kitchen, “What’s all this?” She is still surprised to find you cooking in her kitchen. You turn around and smile, “It’s not much, but I wanted to do something to show you how grateful I am for everything you’ve done to help us.” 

You turn the heat down and walk her way to give her a hug, “Thank you.” She tightly hugs you back while making silly faces at Leo, which makes him giggle. You step away and wipe a fallen tear of your cheek. “It smells amazing. Thank you for doing this, I’m starving.”

After sharing a delicious meal, and feeding Leo, you clean up the kitchen together with some Baby Shark playing in the background put on as entertainment for Leo, but the two of you were clearly enjoying it as well.

“Want to stay and watch a movie?” Leah asks when the kitchen is all cleaned up again. “Yeah, I’d love to. Might have to put Leo to bed mid-movie though.” She smiles, “Sounds good, we can adapt along the way.”

Leo reaches out for Leah as soon as you sit down on the couch, and she gladly takes him from you. He settles against her chest instantly, his bright blue eyes staring up at her, as you’re setting up the movie on the TV.

It doesn’t take long before Leo falls asleep in Leah’s arms. You offer to take him from her and bring him to his crib, but Leah says he’s fine to sleep in her arms for however long needed, if that was okay with you too. You couldn’t say no to that offer after seeing the content look on your son’s face.

About halfway to the movie, your eyes start to fall shut. Once your eyes fully fall shut, your head lands softly onto Leah’s shoulder. She smiles while looking between you and Leo, in that moment everything felt so right.

-----