#awfc

The next four days pass in a blur so fast it barely feels real, one minute you’re standing in the middle of the Emirates trying to memorise the sound of Arsenal supporters singing your name.

The next you’re surrounded by cardboard boxes and half packed suitcases while movers dismantle your life around you, football moves brutally fast once decisions are made that there’s no real space to grieve properly.

You spend most of the first two days numb, your flat slowly empties piece by piece until it stops looking like your home at all, the walls feel strange without framed shirts and photos.

You find old Arsenal training kits shoved into drawers you forgot existed, match day programmes, academy photos, a hoodie Leah stole three years ago then somehow returned during emotional packing.

“You’re welcome,” Leah Williamson had said solemnly while handing it back.

“You literally stole this.”

“I preserved it.”

The girls help where they can mostly emotionally, Beth and Alessia come over the night before your flight with takeaway and wine and end up sitting cross legged amongst boxes until nearly 2am because nobody really wants to acknowledge this is goodbye.

“You’re gonna become unbearably cultured now,” Beth complains while stealing chips from your plate.

Beside her, Alessia looks emotional every few minutes all over again, “You better FaceTime me constantly.”

“I’ll literally still see you at England camp”

“That’s not the same.”

You laugh softly anyway, but later that night after they leave the flat feels crushingly quiet again, you sit alone on the floor beside packed boxes staring out across London through your apartment windows.

The grief hits strangely then, heavy enough to make your chest ache.

You don’t sleep much.

🔴

Barcelona greets you with winter sun and sea air and complete emotional whiplash, the apartment the club arranges is beautiful, minimalist and modern with a balcony overlooking narrow streets and little cafés below.

It doesn’t feel like yours yet it probably won’t for a while, your Arsenal duffel bag sits unopened in the corner of your bedroom for nearly a full day because looking at it still hurts.

The first night you sleep badly, plane ride tired mixed with anxiety mixed with grief. You wake up disoriented twice before remembering where you are, Barcelona, actually Barcelona, the best team in the world your new club, the thought still feels unreal.

By morning your stomach is in knots, not because of football, football is the easy part, it’s everything else. New dressing room. New language. New people and somewhere inside that training ground Alexia Putellas. You try very hard not to think about that while getting ready.

The club driver talks politely in broken English during the journey but you barely absorb any of it, your pulse has been too loud since waking up.

Outside the training ground photographers already wait, your arrival has been all over football media for days, the biggest January transfer in women’s football history, Barcelona’s statement signing.

You step out the car into camera flashes immediately, you are instinctively composed, Footballer mode sliding into place automatically, even while your stomach twists itself into impossible knots.

Inside, the building smells different than Arsenal, cleaner somehow, Spanish voices drift through hallways you don’t know yet. Staff greet you warmly as you’re guided through medical offices and media rooms and endless introductions that blur together after a while. Everyone is kind, professional and excited, still, you feel slightly detached from your own body through most of it like this is happening to somebody else.

The office you're shown into is warm, too warm actually, or maybe that’s just your nerves. You sit beside one of Barcelona’s sporting directors at a long meeting table while conversations continue around you in rapid Spanish that your brain only catches pieces of. Everyone smiles warmly when they speak to you, you smile back automatically you were professional and polite, but still slightly detached.

The Barcelona hoodie on your shoulders still feels surreal every time you look down at it, Blaugrana colours where Arsenal red should be. Across from you, Pere Romeu talks animatedly about defensive structure and how they envision using you in possession.

You focus on that part gratefully football you understand, “We think you can give us…” Pere pauses briefly, searching for the English. “More aggression in transition moments.”

You nod slightly, “That’s usually what I do.”

A few people around the table laugh softly, Pere smiles too. “You defend very… how you say…” He gestures vaguely with one hand, “Violently.”

That actually makes you grin faintly for the first time all morning, “I’ve heard worse feedback.”

The room relaxes around you slightly after that conversation becomes easier, more natural, for a few brief minutes you almost stop feeling like an outsider sitting in somebody else’s life.

Then there’s a knock at the office door, light and quick, everyone glances over automatically the door opens before anyone answers and suddenly there she is. Alexia Putellas slips into the office wearing training kit and a dark jacket half zipped against the cold morning air.

“Hola,” she says softly.

Your stomach immediately flips over itself, Alexia’s eyes find yours almost instantly across the room and then she smiles, it was small but warm. Like she’s genuinely happy to see you here.

Your pulse becomes deeply unhelpful, “Sorry,” Alexia says to the room in accented English. “I come bit early for tour.”

Pere waves a hand immediately, “No problem Ale”

You blink once, Alexia looks back at you expectantly now, “You ready?”

There’s something almost amusing about the fact one of the most intimidating footballers in the world still sounds slightly uncertain asking things in English. You stand automatically before your brain catches up, “Yeah.”

As you move around the table, Alexia’s gaze flicks briefly down over the Barcelona training gear on you, then back up again, “Blaugrana suits you,” she says with a little smile.

Your chest does something genuinely ridiculous, you huff a quiet laugh mostly to cover it, “Bit early to tell.”

“No,” Alexia says immediately, “I think yes.” The confidence of it catches you off guard and somehow, weirdly it settles something nervous in your chest too.

The room around you watches the interaction with varying levels of interest, you can practically feel one or two amused looks from staff members already fully aware of football gossip, fantastic, absolutely fantastic.

Alexia either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, she gestures lightly toward the hallway, “Come. I show you round before training.”

So you follow Alexia back out into the corridor the office door clicks shut behind you and immediately the noise dulls slightly, just distant movement through the training ground now, Spanish voices somewhere further down the hall, your footsteps beside hers.

For a moment neither of you speak, then Alexia glances sideways at you, “You sleep okay?”

You laugh softly through your nose, “Not even remotely.”

She nods like she expected that answer,“First days are strange.”

“You remember yours?”

Alexia smiles faintly, “No. I was baby.”

That startles a real laugh out of you, she looks pleased about it immediately.

“Mhm.” She points lightly at you, “You laugh more here already.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, “That’s been like twenty seconds.”

“Still true.”

You shake your head faintly, looking ahead again before she notices how much warmth that stupid observation causes in your chest.

The hallway opens toward the training pitch viewing area ahead sunlight spills through the windows onto polished floors and suddenly it hits you again.

You were in Barcelona, you actually left Arsenal, you actually came here, the grief flickers briefly underneath everything else.

Alexia notices immediately, “You okay?”

The softness of the question nearly catches you off guard, you hesitate briefly, then answer honestly, “Just feels weird still.”

Alexia’s expression gentles slightly, “Yes,” she says quietly, “I understand.” Standing here beside her in a foreign training ground thousands of miles from the only club you’ve ever known you think maybe she actually does.

You keep your hands shoved into the pockets of your hoodie mostly to stop yourself fidgeting, Alexia leans lightly against the wall beside the viewing window, watching you with that same attentive expression she always seems to wear around you now..

“You know,” she says after a second, carefully choosing the English, “when I hear you maybe come here…” She pauses briefly, “I think maybe impossible.”

You glance sideways at her, “Why?”

She shrugs one shoulder lightly, “You are Arsenal.”

The simplicity of it hurts unexpectedly, because that’s exactly how you’d always thought of yourself too, you look out toward the pitches again, “I was.”

Alexia’s gaze lingers on you for a second longer, “You can be sad and still happy for new thing.”

Your mouth twitches faintly, “That sounded suspiciously wise.”

“I am thirty one,” she says dryly, “I have experience. You think I am serious all the time.”

“You are serious most of the time.”

“Not true.”

“You literally terrify people.”

“I terrify you?”

You look at her then, big mistake again, because she’s closer than you realised, close enough you can properly see the warm brown in her eyes and the faint amusement sitting around her mouth. Your stomach flips annoyingly, “No,” you lie.

Alexia’s smile widens instantly because she hears it too, “Liar.”

“Little bit.”

She laughs softly under her breath, that sound is dangerous.

You clear your throat slightly and look away first, “So,” you say, forcing professionalism back into your voice. “You’re giving the new signing a tour?”

“Yes.”

“You’re very welcoming.”

Alexia hums thoughtfully, “You are expensive. We make sure you stay.” That catches you so off guard you actually choke slightly on your own breath, Alexia looks delighted immediately, “I make joke!”

“Jesus Christ.”

“You go red.”

“I hate you a little bit.”

“No you don’t.” Unfortunately she sounds very confident about that, before you can recover properly, movement appears down the hallway.

Patri Guijarro and Aitana Bonmatí round the corner mid-conversation before spotting you both, Patri’s face immediately shifts into something dangerously knowing, “Ohhh,” she says.

You physically feel yourself preparing for nonsense, Aitana looks between you and Alexia once, then smiles politely at you, “Hola,” she says warmly. “Finally you are here.”

“Hi.”

Patri folds her arms dramatically, “So this is why Alexia disappear from meeting.”

Alexia doesn’t even look remotely embarrassed, “I say I steal her for tour.”

“Yes but usually you steal coffee.”

You glance toward Alexia immediately, “She left a meeting for me?”

Patri looks delighted by your confusion, “Oh, she has been impossible all morning.”

“Patri,” Alexia warns mildly.

“No no,” Patri continues gleefully, “Very distracted captain today.”

Alexia mutters something sharp in Spanish that makes Aitana laugh quietly, you don’t understand the words, but you understand the tone perfectly. You’re suddenly becoming aware all over again that these women know Alexia far better than you do.

They know when she’s acting differently, when she’s nervous, that thought settles somewhere warm and dangerous low in your chest, Aitana smiles softly at you then, “We are happy you came.”

Something about the sincerity of it catches you off guard, because underneath all the media attention and transfer headlines and record fees you still feel like somebody standing awkwardly in a place that isn’t theirs yet, but none of them are treating you that way, ot even slightly.

“Thanks,” you say quietly.

Patri points suddenly toward your hoodie, “You look weird not in Arsenal red.”

“Thank you, that’s exactly what someone wants to hear on their first day.”

Patri grins, “But good weird.”

Alexia nods once immediately beside you, “Yes.”

Your eyes flick toward her automatically and the way she’s looking at you suddenly feels far too soft for your already fragile nervous system. Luckily, before you can spiral properly, a staff member appears further down the corridor calling players toward the gym.

Training, your first session here, your stomach twists instantly again, Alexia notices again, honestly you’re starting to find it irritating how observant she is.

She nudges lightly against your shoulder as everyone starts moving, “You okay,” she says quietly, not a question, more reassurance somehow.

You exhale slowly, “Yeah… Ask me again after rondos.”

Patri laughs loudly immediately, “Ahh, now she sounds Barça already.”

🔴

The changing room is chaos in a way that feels strangely familiar, music playing somewhere too loud, Spanish overlapping from every direction. Boots hitting tiled floors, laughter bouncing around the room, different club, different language, same football dressing room energy underneath it all.

You stand near your locker for half a second taking it in while trying not to look visibly overwhelmed, then suddenly Kika Nazareth appears beside you seemingly out of nowhere, “You sit here,” she says, pointing toward the empty space between her and Patri.

You blink once, “Oh. Thanks.”

Kika studies you for a second, then nods approvingly, “Good. You look like defender.”

You genuinely don’t know how to respond to that, luckily Patri laughs softly beside her, “She means scary.”

“I know what she means.”

Kika points again immediately, “Good. Important quality.”

You huff a quiet laugh while dropping your bag down beside the bench, the nerves are still there, still clawing around underneath your ribs, but the girls make it difficult to disappear into your own head too much.

Every few seconds someone else speaks to you, questions, jokes, little bits of conversation and through all of it Alexia keeps appearing in your peripheral vision, not hovering, just… around. Checking in without making it obvious, you pretend not to notice mostly because noticing feels dangerous.

🔴

Out on the training pitch the winter sun hangs bright above the complex, the air smells like cut grass and sea salt drifting faintly from somewhere beyond the city.

You tug your sleeves down slightly while listening to the coaches explain the session, your pulse is loud again.

First training session, first impressions, new teammates, new system and no matter how experienced you are there’s always that fear. What if you’re not what they expected? Then the rondos start and football finally shuts your brain up.

The second the ball starts moving your body takes over automatically, pressing angles, weight of pass, defensive positioning, the familiar comfort of football slides into place like muscle memory. At one point Aitana Bonmatí tries threading a pass through a ridiculously tight space during possession work, you read it early, step across, intercept cleanly, one touch out your feet before switching play immediately.

Several girls shout simultaneously. “Oooh.” “Madre mía.”

Aitana turns toward you with narrowed eyes, “You are annoying already.”

You grin slightly despite yourself, “That feels like a compliment.”

“It is.”

Alexia absolutely looks pleased watching it happen you ignore that too, mostly unsuccessfully.

Later during defensive transition drills things become more physical, faster, sharper and you feel far more like yourself. One sequence ends with Caroline Graham Hansen driving toward the box at terrifying speed, your timing has to be perfect.

You wait and wait then step across at exactly the right second and win the ball cleanly with a hard shoulder challenge that sends the ball spinning away. Pere blows the whistle briefly, “Again!”

As everyone resets, Alexia jogs past you slowly, “You enjoy this part,” she observes.

You glance sideways, “What gave it away?”

“The terrifying smile.”

“I do not have a terrifying smile.”

Alexia looks unconvinced, “You absolutely do.”

Then she jogs away before you can answer properly your stomach flips stupidly watching her go.

By the end of training you’re exhausted, physically fine, but emotionally wrung out, still, something inside your chest feels lighter than it did this morning.

The girls drift around the pitch collecting balls and water bottles while conversations continue easily around you, no awkwardness, no feeling like an outsider being assessed. Just footballers, teammates, at one point Irene tosses you a bottle, “You survive first session.”

“Barely.”

She nods seriously, “Good sign.”

You laugh softly. Nearby, Alexia watches the interaction with a faint smile before walking over, “How you feel?”

“Tired.”

“Good tired?”

You hesitate briefly then nod, “Yeah.”

🔴

Your apartment is quiet when you get back not sad quiet this time, just still, you kick your trainers off near the door, drop your keys into the little bowl beside the counter and stand there for a second breathing out slowly.

Barcelona air drifts through the slightly open balcony doors, somewhere below, people are laughing outside a café, a scooter buzzes down the narrow street, it still doesn’t fully feel real that this is your life now.

Your phone buzzes before you can spiral too deeply into that thought.

Leah: FaceTime. Now.

Beth: we miss you already

Alessia: i cried in training btw

You: Shocking behaviour from Russo

Your phone immediately starts ringing, you answer still walking toward the kitchen for water, the screen loads into chaos instantly.

“THERE SHE IS—”

You wince, “Jesus Christ.”

Beth grins from somewhere on the left side of the screen while Alessia waves dramatically beside her, “You survived!”

“Barely.”

Then your eyes land on Leah sitting behind them on the sofa, watching you carefully already, you know that look, assessment mode, checking if you’re really okay, “You look tired,” Leah says immediately.

“Thanks.”

“You do,” Beth agrees helpfully.

“I’m hanging up.”

“You also look…” Alessia tilts her head slightly, “Better?”

That catches you off guard enough you pause halfway through opening the fridge, “Oh.”

The three of them notice immediately, because of course they do, “You do,” Leah says more softly now, “You actually do.”

You lean back against the kitchen counter with your water bottle, looking at them through the screen for a moment, your people, god you miss them already.

“How was it?” Beth asks finally.

You expect your automatic response, fine, good, standard deflection, but instead your mouth twitches slightly, “It was actually…” You hesitate briefly. “Good.”

The reaction on the screen is immediate, Beth gasps theatrically, Alessia’s jaw literally drops, Leah just smiles quietly, “You liked it,” she says.

You shrug faintly, “They’re nice.”

“Nice?” Beth repeats suspiciously, “That’s all we get after abandoning us for European royalty?”

You laugh softly despite yourself, “The football’s ridiculous.”

“Obviously.”

“No seriously,” you say, rubbing tiredly at your jaw, “The technical level is stupid.”

Leah looks unsurprised, “You held your own?”

That part finally makes something warmer settle in your chest, because yes you had, “I think so.” You roll your eyes slightly, “But it was one session.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

Leah studies your face quietly again, “You’re smiling.”

You blink, “Hm?”

“You’re smiling while talking about it.”

Your stomach twists slightly because she’s right you hadn’t even noticed, all three of them are looking at you with this awful mix of relief and sadness like seeing you happy somewhere else hurts a little too.

“I miss you,” Alessia says suddenly.

“Russo,” you warn softly because she already looks emotional again.

“I do though.”

Beth leans into the frame dramatically, “She’s been unbearable all day.”

“I have not.”

“You cried because someone mentioned tapas.”

“That was unrelated.”

Leah shakes her head fondly behind them before looking back at you, “You deserve for this to be good, you know.”

The sincerity of it nearly undoes you all over again, because underneath the grief, there’s still guilt somewhere deep inside you for not feeling miserable every second here.

You glance down at your water bottle briefly, “It’s weird,” you admit quietly, “I still feel sad all the time about Arsenal.”

Leah nods immediately, “Of course you do.”

“But…” You hesitate.

“But?”

You look back up at them, “I think maybe this could become home too.”

Silence settles briefly across the call, Beth’s eyes visibly soften, Alessia looks seconds from crying again, Leah smiles, “That’s all I wanted,” she says quietly, “For them to make you happy properly.”

Your throat tightens instantly, you cover it quickly with a scoff, “Bit emotional for a Tuesday.”

“Shut up,” Leah says affectionately.

🔴

The first few weeks in Barcelona pass faster than you expect, which helps, because if you stop too long and think too hard about everything you left behind in London, the grief still catches you unexpectedly.

Usually late at night, or when your apartment is too quiet, but the football helps, the football always helps and Barcelona football is ridiculous.

The rhythm of it starts settling into your body surprisingly quickly, at first it feels almost overwhelming how technically clean everyone is all the time, but gradually your instincts adapt. You stop hesitating on the ball, start stepping higher into midfield, start trusting the structure around you and then you’re thriving.

The media starts talking about it by your third match, how quickly you’ve adapted, how naturally your aggressive defending balances Barcelona’s possession heavy system. Pundits rave about your partnership with Irene, one headline literally calls you 'the missing piece.'

You try not to read too much of it mostly unsuccessfully, the football itself feels good again for the first time in months, really good, you start playing free and the girls make settling in easy too.

The dressing room becomes familiar quickly, Kika loud and chaotic, Patri Guijarro relentlessly sarcastic, Aitana Bonmatí quietly competitive about absolutely everything. Someone always trying to drag you out for coffee after training. Someone always translating when conversations move too fast around you.

It starts feeling less like visiting, more like belonging which honestly surprises you.

Then there’s Alexia Putellas.

And that becomes complicated not outwardly, outwardly Alexia is kind, consistently kind, she checks in after matches, makes sure you understand tactical meetings. Translates quietly for you when staff speak too quickly in Spanish. During games she’s always there too calm and commanding beside you.

A captain exactly the way everyone always describes her, reliable, steady, protective of her players, but there’s still something slightly careful about her around you, something restrained. At first you tell yourself you’re imagining it, because honestly maybe you’re hyperaware after everything that happened, but gradually you realise you’re not.

You notice it in little moments, Alexia always warm in group settings but somehow harder to pin down alone, conversations that stop just slightly short before becoming personal. The way she sometimes looks like she wants to say something then changes her mind halfway through and the stupid thing is it bothers you more than it should.

One afternoon after a home win, the team spills into recovery in usually good moods, music echoing around the gym, players laughing between stretches. You’re sitting on the floor beside the recovery mats rolling out your calves when Alexia walks over holding two water bottles.

She hands one to you automatically.

“Thanks.”

“You defend like psychopath today,” she says casually.

You snort softly, “Constructive feedback again.”

Alexia smiles faintly before sitting beside you close enough your shoulder brushes hers briefly. Your stomach still does that deeply irritating thing every single time, “You settling okay?” she asks.

“Yeah.” And you mean it, that’s the strange part, you really are.

Alexia nods softly, “Good.”

Then silence settles briefly between you, you glance sideways at her. God she’s beautiful. That thought remains genuinely inconvenient, Alexia catches you looking and your eyes immediately flick away toward the gym floor instead. Smooth, very subtle.

“Well handled,” she says dryly.

You huff a quiet laugh, “Thought so.”

A smile pulls briefly at the corner of her mouth again then almost instantly gone like she remembers herself, like some invisible line reappears between you both and there is again that carefulness. Your chest tightens unexpectedly, because suddenly all over again you’re back in England hearing her ask quietly if you only became interested in her because of the stories.

You stare down at your water bottle for a second too long then before you can overthink it, “Do you trust me?”

The words slip out accidentally, Alexia stills beside you immediately.

You regret it almost on contact, you clear your throat lightly, “I just mean”

“I don't know,” Alexia says softly.

You blink, “What?”

She looks down briefly at the bottle turning slowly between her hands, “I trust you”

The answer comes too quickly, too rehearsed almost, your stomach sinks slightly anyway. You nod once, “Okay.”

But Alexia notices immediately that you don’t fully believe her, she exhales quietly beside you, “It is not…” She pauses, searching for the English carefully, “Easy in my head sometimes.” Your chest aches instantly, Alexia keeps her eyes lowered while she speaks. “When people know things about you… but not really you…” Her brows pull together slightly, “I think maybe I become little…” She gestures vaguely with one hand, “Protected.”

Guarded, you understand the word she means even if she can’t find it immediately and honestly you can’t even blame her, because she’s right. You stare ahead quietly for a second, “I never wanted you to feel exposed by it.”

Alexia nods faintly, “I know.”

“You sure?”

Finally she looks sideways at you then and the expression on her face is complicated, soft honesty, still uncertainty underneath it all, “Yes,” she says quietly. “But sometimes knowing something and feeling something are different.”

That lands directly in your chest, because unfortunately you understand that too well, for a moment neither of you speak, the gym noise hums around you both in the background, then Alexia nudges your shoulder lightly against hers.

“But,” she says softly, “I try.”

You sit there quietly beside her for a moment after that, the recovery room buzzes softly around you both, players drifting in and out between stations, but your focus stays entirely on Alexia beside you.

On the honesty of what she’d just admitted, most people would’ve lied, would’ve smoothed it over to avoid awkwardness, but Alexia never really does that.

You’ve noticed that about her, even when it would be easier, you roll the water bottle slowly between your hands before speaking, “I think I’d probably feel weird too.”

Alexia glances sideways at you, “You would?”

You nod once, “If I found out someone I didn’t really know had spent years writing fictional versions of me having sex online?” You huff softly through your nose. “Yeah. I think I’d have questions.”

That startles a laugh out of her, a real one this time, head tipping slightly back, that sound still catches you off guard every time, “You say it very direct,” she says amused.

“It sounds worse when you phrase it honestly.”

“It is honest.”

“Exactly my point.”

Alexia shakes her head faintly, still smiling a little, “You are strange person.”

You glance sideways, “I bet you still signed the petition to buy me.”

That earns another soft laugh, “No regret yet.”

You narrow your eyes slightly at her, “Comforting.”

Alexia’s smile lingers briefly before fading softer again, “I trust you fully on pitch.” The sentence lands instantly, no hesitation whatsoever, Alexia notices the way your expression shifts slightly and continues carefully, “When you defend behind me…” She shrugs lightly, “I never worry.”

Your chest tightens unexpectedly hard at that, because coming from her, from someone like Alexia, that means a lot, “You trust me there,” you say quietly.

“Yes.” Then the pause comes and you already know before she even says it, “Off pitch…” Alexia exhales softly. “I not fully there yet.”.

You stare ahead at the gym floor for a second, absorbing it properly and weirdly it hurts less hearing her say it directly than feeling it sitting unspoken between you both all these weeks, at least now you understand. You nod faintly, “That’s fair.”

Alexia’s brows pull together immediately, “You don’t need say fair like you are okay with everything.”

You glance toward her, “I mean… what else am I supposed to say?”

“The truth.”

You laugh quietly under your breath at that, “Right now the truth is mostly that I wish I could go back and stop the whole thing from happening.”

Alexia studies you carefully, “You miss writing.”

Your throat tightens slightly because annoyingly she’s right, you look down at your hands, “Sometimes.” The admission comes quieter than you expect, “I didn’t realise how much it was part of me until it disappeared.”

Alexia stays silent beside you, listening.

“It wasn’t even about posting stuff half the time.” You shrug faintly. “I just… liked disappearing into something for a while.”

The words settle heavier than you intended, because underneath them sits months of anxiety and pressure and heartbreak you still haven’t fully unpacked.

Alexia hears that part too, “You disappear in your head often,” she says softly.

You blink once, then huff a quiet laugh, “That obvious?”

“Yes.”

“Fantastic.”

Alexia nudges your shoulder lightly against hers again, “I think maybe…” She pauses carefully, searching for the English again, “You are hard on yourself in very lonely way.”

That one hits frighteningly accurately, you stare at her for a second longer than you mean to, you clear your throat first, looking away, “You always psychoanalyse your centre backs or am I special?”

Alexia smiles faintly, “Only expensive ones.”

You laugh then after a beat, more quietly, “I don’t expect you to trust me straight away, by the way.”

Alexia looks at you again, “You don’t?”

You shake your head, “Trust takes time.” You shrug slightly, “Especially after something weird.”

Alexia watches you for a long moment, “Good.”

You blink, “Good?”

“Yes.” Her mouth softens slightly at the corners, “Because I think maybe… I want time.”

Your stomach flips instantly, not rejection, or distance, something that sounds dangerously like possibility and judging by the way Alexia looks away immediately after saying it she knows exactly how that sounded too.

🔴

Training leaves you exhausted in the best way today one of those sessions where everything clicks just enough to make football feel fun again instead of heavy.

You and Irene spend most of the final defensive drill aggressively bullying the forwards which apparently everybody finds deeply entertaining except the forwards themselves.

At one point Clàudia Pina actually throws her arms up dramatically after you shoulder her off the ball, “This is abuse.”

“Win your duel then,” you reply automatically.

Irene looks at you with visible pride, “She learns fast.”

By the time training finishes the mood around the group is light, girls lingering on the pitch, staff laughing nearby, music drifting faintly from the gym speakers.

You’re pulling your training bib off near the bench when a shadow stops beside you, you glance up, Alexia stands with her arms folded loosely across her training jacket, hair still slightly damp from sweat, “You eat with us after?”

Your stomach immediately does something deeply irritating, because the phrasing with us feels safe, no reason whatsoever for your nervous system to react like this. “Yeah,” you answer casually. “Course.”

Alexia nods once, “Good. I drive.”

You blink, “Oh.”

Her mouth twitches slightly like she notices your surprise, “You have problem with my driving?”

“I’ve literally never seen your driving.”

“Very smooth.”

“Confident answer.”

“Because true.”

You snort softly, “I'll just meet you there, I need to nip home anyway”

Alexia gives you one last small smile before walking away toward the changing rooms and despite the fact the invitation sounded entirely casual you still spend the next hour overthinking it like an idiot.

About forty minutes later you get to the restaurant location Alexia texted you earlier, it's a small place tucked along a quieter Barcelona street not far from the beach. Warm light glowing through the windows, busy enough to feel alive without being crowded.

You pause briefly outside after getting out the taxi, because suddenly it hits you, you don’t actually know who else is coming, you assume some of the girls something relaxed and team like.

You push through the restaurant doors anyway immediately warm air and the smell of garlic and olive oil wraps around you, a waiter greets you in rapid Spanish. You manage enough broken response for him to smile politely before he gestures further inside.

You spot her, just her, Alexia sitting at a table near the back corner of the restaurant, alone on a table for two, your steps slow automatically. Alexia looks up at the movement and smiles immediately when she sees you.

Your stomach flips hard enough to genuinely annoy you now, because this is apparently not group lunch, you walk over trying desperately to look normal, “Hi.”

“Hola.”

Alexia gestures toward the seat opposite her, “You find okay?”

“Yeah.”

You sit down slowly, still trying to recalibrate mentally, Alexia notices immediately, “You thought more people come.”

Not even a question, you exhale a laugh through your nose, “A little bit, yeah.”

Alexia’s eyes soften with amusement, “You disappointed?”

Your eyebrows lift, “That feels like a trap.”

A grin flashes quickly across her face, “Smart.” She’s prettier when she’s relaxed like this, that thought arrives entirely uninvited.

The restaurant noise hums quietly around you both while a waiter appears with menus, Alexia speaks easily in Spanish before glancing toward you, “You trust me choose?”

You look at the menu filled mostly with words you still only half understand, “Honestly at this point yeah.”

Alexia nods approvingly and orders for both of you, you watch her while she speaks, something you could do for hours, hands moving slightly while she talks. Comfortable here nothing like the more guarded version of herself at training sometimes.

When the waiter leaves, silence settles briefly between you both, you lean back slightly in your chair, “So,” you say carefully, “Was there actually a team lunch or did you fully trick me?”

Alexia smiles into her water glass slightly before answering, “Maybe little trick.”

You stare at her, “You’re unbelievable.”

“No.” Her eyes flick up to yours again, “I just think easier without ten people interrupting.”

The implication sits there quietly between you both, she wanted time alone with you, Alexia seems to realise how that sounded about half a second later.

You watch the exact moment awareness crosses her face, a faint pinkness touches her cheeks almost instantly and weirdly that makes your own nervousness worse somehow.

You look down briefly at the table just to stop staring, “Well,” you say lightly, “You could’ve warned me.”

Alexia tilts her head slightly, “You would say no?”

The honest answer arrives far too quickly in your head. No, absolutely not. Which feels like information you should probably keep to yourself. So instead you shrug casually, “Guess we’ll never know.”

Alexia’s smile returns slowly.

The food arrives gradually across the next twenty minutes, little plates spread across the table between you both, bread, patatas bravas and something Alexia insists you try despite you not fully understanding what it is.

“I trust you too much,” you mumble after taking a bite.

Alexia looks smug immediately, “But I correct.”

You point at her slightly with your fork, “This is becoming dangerous for me.”

“What?”

“You being right.”

Alexia laughs softly, the sound settles warm somewhere low in your chest, conversation comes easier than it probably should. Football first, always football first, training, Barcelona tactics. The differences between Liga F and the WSL, Alexia asks thoughtful questions too, real ones, not media trained small talk.

“What hardest thing so far?” she asks at one point.

You lean back slightly in your chair considering it, “The language maybe.”

Alexia nods immediately, “Yes. It exhausting.”

“Everyone switches to English for me all the time.”

“Because they want help.”

“I know but…” You rub lightly at the side of your neck, “I need to learn and I hate feeling behind conversations.”

Alexia watches you for a second, “You understand more than you think.”

“Debatable.”

“No.” She shakes her head lightly, “You listen very carefully and take in.”

That catches you slightly off guard, because it means she’s noticed, you glance down briefly toward your drink, “Occupational hazard of being anxious.”

Alexia’s brows pull together faintly, “You say these things like jokes.”

You huff softly, “Mostly because otherwise people start looking at me weird.”

“I do not think weird.”

The reply comes immediate, steady, sitting here across from Alexia suddenly feels strangely easy, dangerously easy, which becomes a problem when conversation drifts away from football.

It happens gradually and naturally, you talk about London, Barcelona, books, music and the pressure of being recognised constantly, Alexia tells you about recovering from her ACL injury and the way silence felt during rehab.

“The quiet was worst part,” she admits carefully, “Too much time in my head.”

You understand that immediately, “You ever get tired,” you say slowly, “of everybody wanting something from you all the time?”

Alexia looks at you for a second longer than usual after that, “Yes.”

You look down at your hands briefly, “At Arsenal sometimes…” You hesitate, “I used to sit in my car after training for like twenty minutes before driving home.”

“Why?”

“Because once I went home my phone would start again.”

Messages, interview requests, social media obligations, so many expectations and noise, Alexia’s expression softens slightly with understanding, “You disappear there too,” she says quietly.

You blink once, “Sorry?”

“In car.” She gestures lightly toward you, “You disappear little before going back.”

Your mouth twitches faintly, “That sounds slightly concerning when you phrase it like that.”

“But true?”

You sigh dramatically, “Unfortunately.”

Alexia smiles softly, “I think maybe this why I worried before.”

You still slightly, “The stories?”

She nods faintly, you let her continue, “You understand people…” She searches briefly for the wording, “Deeply. Quickly.”

That surprises you, “I don’t know if that’s true.”

Alexia gives you a look like she disagrees completely, “You see things.”

Your stomach flips again, because the way she says it feels dangerously close to being seen back. You glance away first and the waiter appears then thankfully to clear plates and refill drinks, briefly breaking whatever the hell that moment was becoming.

You exhale quietly once he leaves, Alexia notices, “You nervous with me?”

The question nearly kills you on contact, you cough lightly into your drink buying yourself half a second, “Are you always this direct?”

“Yes.”

“Right.” Alexia waits patiently absolutely not letting you escape the question. You stare at her for a second at the calm curiosity on her face, at the slight amusement sitting underneath it. Then decide if you’re going to die you may as well do it honestly, “A bit,” you admit.

Alexia tilts her head slightly, “Why?”

You laugh softly under your breath, “You genuinely don’t know?”

“No.”

You drag a hand slowly across your jaw before answering, “Because you’re Alexia Putellas.”

That earns an immediate frown, “That means nothing.”

“It means quite a lot actually.”

Alexia shakes her head lightly like she fundamentally disagrees, “You talk to me normal now.”

“Internally I’m going through several medical emergencies.”

That startles a real laugh out of her again warm and bright and completely unguarded this time, the awful thing is you think you’d do almost anything to hear it again.

Alexia’s laughter fades slowly into a smile she doesn’t seem fully aware she’s still wearing, you’re staring again, so you clear your throat lightly and look down at your drink before she catches you this time.

Too late, “I make you nervous and you still look at me like this?”

Your head snaps back up immediately, “What does that mean?”

Alexia shrugs one shoulder casually, though there’s something very deliberate in her eyes now, “You know.”

“No I don’t.”

“Liar.”

You let out one disbelieving laugh through your nose, “This feels hostile suddenly.”

“It is observation.”

“You’re very observant for somebody accusing me of observing people too much.”

That earns another small smile then the expression softens slightly, “You are different here.”

You frown faintly, “What, compared to Arsenal?”

“Yes.”

You lean back slightly in your chair, “How?”

Alexia thinks for a second before answering, “Still quiet.” She gestures lightly with her hand. “Still in your head a lot.” Then her voice softens. “But less heavy.”

She’s right again, you hate how right she keeps being. You glance out the restaurant window briefly toward the evening light spilling across the street outside, “I think Arsenal made me tired before I even left.”

Alexia stays quiet listening carefully.

You continue after a second, “I loved it there so much that I think I stopped noticing how much pressure I was under all the time.”

Saying it aloud feels strange disloyal somehow, but true.

“At Barcelona…” You hesitate briefly. “I feel like I can breathe during football again.”

Alexia watches you carefully across the table, “Good.”

The sincerity in her voice catches you off guard slightly, you look back at her fully then and you become aware again that this is not normal teammate lunch. The lighting too soft, the table too intimate, your pulse kicks harder suddenly. So naturally your brain decides now is the perfect moment to malfunction entirely, “You know,” you say before thinking properly, “this is dangerously close to a date.”

Silence, immediate silence. Your own brain short circuits the second the words leave your mouth. Oh my god, why would you say that? You actually feel heat crawl up your neck instantly. Alexia blinks once across from you, Alexia Putellas looks genuinely flustered, completely and utterly. Her eyes widen slightly before darting down toward the table, a faint flush spreads across her cheeks almost immediately and that’s worse way worse, because now you know you affected her too.

You stare at each other for one horrible suspended second then you immediately lean back in your chair slightly, “Right,” you mutter. “Fantastic. Ignore me.”

Alexia laughs suddenly, soft and startled and nervous all at once, “No no”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You apologise too muh.”

“I’m actively trying to leave Spain through the floor currently.”

That only makes her laugh harder, she drops her head briefly, smiling into her hands for a second before looking back up at you, still pink cheeked, still visibly flustered. Which honestly feels like dangerous information for you to possess, “You think this is date?” she asks finally.

You drag a hand down your face, “I think I should stop speaking.”

“But maybe you right little.”

Your head lifts immediately, Alexia meets your eyes this time when she says it, no escape route built into the sentence just quiet honesty. Your stomach flips so violently it genuinely feels unfair, “Oh.”

“I not ask because…” She gestures vaguely between you both.

You nod slowly understanding immediately, the fanfiction, the strange complicated history between you both.

“But,” she continues carefully, “I think maybe I want know you properly anyway.”

That sentence means more than flirting, more than attraction, trust or at least the beginning of it. You look at her for a long second before answering honestly, “I’d like that too.”

By the time the plates are cleared and the restaurant starts thinning out around you, the nervous energy between you and Alexia Putellas has settled into something quieter.

Outside the windows the streets have darkened fully, warm amber light spilling from bars and little cafés further down the road.

You glance toward your phone briefly when the bill arrives automatically reaching for your card you kept behind your cover, Alexia immediately reaches first for the bill, “I pay.”

You look up instantly, “No chance.”

“Yes.” Alexia already has her card halfway out, “I ask you. I pay.”

You narrow your eyes slightly, “That feels very old fashioned.”

Alexia looks completely unbothered, “It feels correct.”

You snort softly and pull your own card out anyway, “Absolutely not.”

The waiter stands there awkwardly between you both while an entirely unnecessary standoff begins, Alexia switches into rapid Spanish with him before you can argue further.

You stare at her, “You can’t use fluent Spanish against me in arguments.”

“I can.” She hands the waiter her card calmly, “And I do.”

You shake your head under your breath while the waiter escapes quickly before the situation escalates further, “This is a dictatorship.”

Alexia smiles faintly, “You survive.”

You lean back in your chair dramatically, “Barely.”

The smile lingers on her face a second longer this time, you really are in trouble here. A few minutes later once the bill is dealt with, you both stand gathering jackets and phones from the table. You pull your phone from your pocket automatically already thinking about ordering a taxi.

Alexia notices immediately, “What you do?”

“Getting a taxi.”

“No.”

You blink once, “No?”

“When I drive,” she says simply, pulling her own coat on, “no, I take you.”

You stare at her, “I can get a taxi, Alexia.”

She looks almost offended by the suggestion, “I not let you walk home. It late.”

“I’m not walking home.”

“Taxi alone then.”

You blink slowly, “You realise I survived London for years, right?”

Alexia steps closer while sliding her keys into her hand, “Yes.” Her eyes flick over your face briefly, “But now you in my city.”

Your stomach flips instantly, you fold your arms lightly, “And what if I refuse?”

Alexia tilts her head slightly, “You won’t.”

The confidence of it makes you laugh softly through your nose, “Very arrogant.”

“Still correct.”

You hate how attractive her confidence is, actually hate it. The two of you step outside into the cool Barcelona night together, streetlights glow gold across the pavement. The city still alive around you despite the hour, Alexia falls into step beside you naturally as you walk toward where her car is parked further down the street, close enough your shoulders almost brush every few steps.

“You do this with everyone?” you ask casually.

Alexia glances sideways, “What?”

“Insist on driving them home like an overprotective dad.”

That startles a laugh out of her, “I think maybe only you.”

Your heartbeat stutters annoyingly hard at that, you look ahead quickly before she notices the effect. When you reach the car Alexia unlocks it and opens the passenger side door before you can reach for it yourself.

You stop, stare at her, “Oh, so you’re properly doing gentleman behaviour.”

Alexia looks confused briefly, “What?”

“The door.”

Realisation crosses her face, then a tiny shrug, “You say old fashioned before.”

“You’re proving my point.”

“But you smiling.”

You immediately attempt to flatten your expression, “I’m literally not.”

Alexia’s grin widens slightly, “Liar.”

You shake your head while climbing into the passenger seat anyway, muttering something under your breath about Spanish hospitality and manipulation.

Alexia closes the door with another tiny smile before walking around the front of the car, the second she slides into the driver’s seat beside you, your nervous system immediately becomes aware of her all over again.

The smell of her perfume faint beneath training shampoo, the rings on her fingers catching briefly under the dashboard lights, the way she drives one handed backing smoothly out into the narrow Barcelona streets.

You stare out the window almost immediately just to give yourself something else to focus on, outside, the city glows warm and alive, scooters weaving through traffic, groups of people spilling from restaurants onto pavements.

Alexia drives comfortably through it all like she belongs to the city itself which she does, “You quiet again,” she says after a couple minutes.

You glance sideways briefly, “Thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

You snort softly, “Bit rude.”

“But true?”

You settle further back in the seat slightly, “I’m just tired.”

Alexia hums softly like she doesn’t fully believe that’s the only thing the silence that follows isn’t awkward though, that’s the dangerous part sitting beside her feels easy now too easy. Your brain keeps trying to remind you that this is Alexia Putellas and not some normal girl driving you home after dinner, but then she reaches over casually at a red light and turns the heating down because she notices you tugging at your sleeves from being too warm and suddenly she just feels like a person.

“You know,” you say eventually, “if this gets out the internet will become genuinely unbearable.”

Alexia glances sideways, “What gets out?”

“This.” You gesture vaguely between you both inside the car, “You taking me to dinner. Driving me home. Looking at me like that.”

Alexia’s brows lift slightly, “Like what?”

You immediately regret speaking, “Nothing.”

“No no.” Her mouth twitches slightly, “Tell me.”

You look out the window again stubbornly, “Absolutely not.”

Alexia laughs softly under her breath, “You become shy sometimes. I like it.”

“I’m not shy.”

“You are now.”

You groan quietly and drop your head back against the seat, “This is awful for me.”

Alexia’s smile lingers as she turns down another quieter street, “Why?”

“You flirt like it’s an Olympic sport.”

She looks genuinely thoughtful for a second, “Maybe.”

“Oh my god.”

That earns another laugh from her, “You flirt back.”

Your stomach flips so hard it’s genuinely embarrassing, you stare at her profile for a second before you can stop yourself, streetlights spill gold briefly across her face as she drives, relaxed, pretty, completely unfair.

Then she glances sideways and catches you looking again, this time neither of you look away immediately, Alexia’s voice drops softer when she speaks again, “You know what funny?”

You clear your throat lightly, “What?”

“When I first find out about stories…” She shakes her head slightly, “I think you maybe create version of me that not real.”

Your chest tightens a little, “Ok?”

“I think maybe you understand me little too well.”

The honesty of it hits you directly in the ribs, you look down briefly toward your hands in your lap, “That’s slightly terrifying information.”

Alexia smiles faintly, “Yes.”

Eventually the car slows outside your apartment building you hadn’t even realised how quickly the drive passed, Alexia shifts the car into park but neither of you move immediately.

You glance toward her, “Thanks for dinner.”

Alexia looks back at you, “You welcome.” Neither of you reach for the door, your pulse starts climbing for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Then Alexia says softly, “I am glad you came to Barcelona.”

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.

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