#mapi leon

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Being 25 and dating Alexia Putellas was a constant adventure. From the beginning, you were both completely clear: no one on the team could find out.

Not because you were doing anything wrong. Not because you had doubts. But because you knew the younger ones far too well. If they found out, it wouldn’t last three days before the entire locker room knew.

Alexia, with all her experience and calmness, had been the one to suggest it.

“It’s not that I don’t trust them,” she had told you one night, sitting on the couch in her apartment, the lights low and the distant noise of the city coming through the window. “It’s just that if we tell Claudia or Cata, within an hour Vicky will be making absurd theories out loud and Mapi will be looking at us with that suspicious smile. And I don’t have the energy for that.”

“So… what are we? A secret operation?”

“Exactly,” Alexia had replied, leaning closer to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Operation absolutely secret.”

And for months, it worked.

Long looks no one else noticed. Hands brushing only when you were sure no one was watching. Discreet messages before matches. Leaving the parking lot separately so it wouldn’t look suspicious.

The only problem was that Alexia, no matter how much of a captain she was, sometimes forgot she was in public when it came to you.

And there was also the small detail of the sweatshirt.

The famous gray sweatshirt.

Everything fell apart on an ordinary Saturday.

You arrived at the stadium with your headphones on, your hair tied back in a low ponytail, and the oversized sweatshirt covering almost your hands. It was comfortable, warm… and smelled like Alexia.

You didn’t think much of it. It was just clothing.

Until you walked into the locker room.

Mapi was the first to notice.

“Hey,” she said, frowning with exaggerated drama. “Since when do you wear that sweatshirt?”

You froze mid-step.

“What’s wrong with the sweatshirt?”

Claudia looked up from her phone.

“That’s Alexia’s sweatshirt.”

Silence.

A dangerously long silence.

You tried to keep your composure.

“Not every gray sweatshirt belongs to Alexia.”

At that moment, as if the universe had a sense of humor, Alexia walked into the locker room. She stopped for barely a second when she saw you. You. Wearing her sweatshirt.

And she smiled.

Mistake number one.

Because Mapi never forgave that kind of smile.

“Oh,” she said slowly, pointing at both of you as if she had just solved an international crime. “Ohhhhh.”

“Don’t start,” Alexia muttered, trying to sound firm.

“Start what?” Mapi replied, placing a hand on her chest dramatically. “I’m not starting anything. I’m just observing that our captain lost a sweatshirt… and magically it appeared on someone else.”

Vicky was already recording with her phone.

“This is premium content.”

“Don’t record,” Alexia warned, crossing her arms.

You felt your cheeks begin to burn.

“It’s just a sweatshirt, really.”

“Sure,” Claudia replied, holding back laughter. “Just like it’s ‘just’ a coincidence that after every training session you two disappear at exactly the same time.”

Chaos was served.

But the real confirmation came hours later.

Home match. Full stadium. Maximum intensity.

Alexia stayed impeccable, focused, serious. She celebrated your goal with the whole team, hugging everyone equally. Zero mistakes. Zero slips.

It seemed like you had survived the sweatshirt incident.

It seemed.

The problem came afterward.

In the tunnel, when the adrenaline was starting to fade and the stadium was still roaring outside, you began walking a few steps ahead, still smiling because of the goal. Alexia was behind you, talking to the staff.

And it was something minimal.

Tiny.

But definitive.

You stopped to adjust your shin guards, leaning against the wall. Alexia, without thinking too much, stepped closer from behind and placed a hand on your waist.

An automatic gesture.

Intimate.

Natural.

Too natural.

“Did you hurt yourself in the fall?” Alexia asked, lowering her voice, leaning slightly to speak near your ear. “Because if it was from that tackle, I already spoke to the referee and—”

You shook your head, smiling.

“I’m fine. I just got a little scared, but it’s okay now. You don’t have to go into angry captain mode every time someone touches me.”

Alexia didn’t remove her hand.

On the contrary.

Her fingers slid just a few centimeters, making sure you were really okay.

“It’s not captain mode,” she replied softly. “It’s… caring about you mode.”

Silence.

A small, charged silence.

And then, from the back of the tunnel:

“Are we interrupting something or should we keep watching?” Mapi’s voice echoed with unnecessary clarity.

You both turned at the same time.

There they were.

Claudia with her mouth open.

Vicky with a “I knew I wasn’t crazy” expression.

Patri with her arms crossed, enjoying the show.

And worst of all.

Alexia’s hand was still on your waist.

Alexia removed it slowly. Too late.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she tried to say.

“Oh, perfect,” Mapi replied with exaggerated seriousness. “Then explain to us what it looks like. Because from here it looks like our captain has very specific preferences when it comes to checking injuries.”

You covered your face with your hands.

Alexia, on the other hand, took a deep breath. She looked at the group. Then she looked at you.

And something changed.

The strategy was over.

The secret operation was over.

“Alright,” Alexia said, with that firm calm she used in press conferences. “We didn’t want to say anything yet. But yes. We’re together.”

The silence lasted exactly half a second.

Then the tunnel exploded.

“I KNEW IT!”

“I told you the sweatshirt wasn’t a coincidence!”

“How long have you been together?”

“I DEMAND DETAILS!”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or hide behind one of the columns. Your cheeks were burning and your heart was beating way too fast for someone who had just played a full ninety minutes.

Alexia, meanwhile, kept her characteristic calm. She wasn’t uncomfortable. Just… resigned.

She looked at the group with a mix of patience and warning.

“Breathe,” she said firmly but serenely. “We’re not holding a press conference right now.”

“But how long have you been together?” Claudia insisted, unable to contain her excitement.

You hesitated for a second, but Alexia answered first.

“Long enough to know it wasn’t something we wanted to make public yet,” she explained. “Not because we’re ashamed. We just wanted something that was only ours for a while.”

That softened the atmosphere a little.

The teasing didn’t disappear, but it lowered in intensity. It wasn’t an interrogation anymore, it was affectionate curiosity.

And while the group began to scatter, talking among themselves, Alexia looked at you again.

This time without hiding anything.

“I promised we’d last quite a while,” she murmured softly.

You let out a nervous laugh.

“Yes, but we didn’t count on them being so observant.”

“They’re a disaster,” Alexia replied, though there was tenderness in her tone. “And they don’t know how to keep secrets. You were right.”

There was a small silence. Calmer now.

No hidden glances. No hands pulling away at the sound of footsteps.

Alexia took a step closer.

It wasn’t impulsive. It was deliberate. Serene.

She placed a gentle hand on your cheek, her thumb barely brushing the skin still warm from the match.

“Are you okay?” she asked once more, but no longer about the fall.

You nodded, this time without nerves.

“I’m more than okay.”

And then, in front of the distant laughter and the murmurs of teammates pretending not to look, Alexia leaned in just enough.

It wasn’t a long kiss. It wasn’t scandalous.

It was small. Soft. Certain.

A warm brush of lips, calm, like confirming something that no longer needed to be hidden.

When you pulled apart, you were smiling without being able to stop.

“Now,” Alexia said, with that half-smile of hers, “official.”

You find yourself in Barcelona, thousands of miles away from England and all you know. And you’re not sure how you got here.

Okay, well, that’s a lie.

You know how you got here. Your agent. And you, needing a change of scenery from the wreckage of your dating life left behind in the rainy country after your girlfriend (ex you suppose is the better term now) dropped you like a hot potato for the new signing at her club. That stung. A lot. And seeing them in WSL match-ups was not your idea of a pleasant time.

Which is how Barcelona’s interest skyrocketed them to the top of your consideration list come contract negotiation time. Arsenal was not happy to lose you. But they couldn’t compete with the promise of a new league, new faces, and no run-ins with your ex and her new girl at half field.

But even with your reasons for wanting to come to Spain, it’s still such a major change in your life. Debilitating really. The language. The food. The tardiness. Seriously – how is it that every single Spaniard you’ve met is always 5, 10, 15 minutes late? Annoying and yet they also somehow have it come across as endearing. You hate it. Because you know that won’t work for you. Or your perpetually 10-minute ahead of schedule self. You’d break out in hives if you even tried to be late.

The slower pace of life, now, you could get used to. Midday naps? Yes please. Spending a couple hours making your way through dinner because everyone prioritizes congregating and chatting instead of inhaling food in silence? Also on board.

But the touchiness. You are utterly perplexed. You’re English. Even a handshake can feel like crossing a personal boundary. But the Spanish. With their legs across your lap. And hands dancing down your arms. And the kisses on the lips.

You’re taken aback. The team is friendly. Very, very friendly. With each other and with you. You are not sure if you’ve found yourself with 15 new girlfriends (based on the level of affection, you think yes), or if this is just the baseline in Spain.

Because you’re pretty sure Mapi is with Ingrid. Like with with.

But as you sit here after team dinner, the crew moving to the nearby club, you see Mapi draped over Patri, the midfielder’s hand tucked between her thighs holding her in place where the defender sits on her lap. But that hand is much, much higher up than would ever be considered appropriate in England. Let alone Mapi sitting on Patri’s lap in the first place!

Your eyes snap to Ingrid who you find smiling, not at all upset. What the hell? Patri’s hand is basically snug between Mapi’s legs, tucked up high and tight. Something that could very well cause a fist fight in England. But Ingrid is laughing, looking light and happy.  

Alexia slides into the booth next to you. Jolting your thoughts to the other surprising thing about moving to Barcelona: your new friendship with the world’s best female footballer.

She’s nothing like you thought she would be. Not cocky. Not loud. Not competitive (well except on the field). She’s soft and quiet and tentative smiles. And broken English making an effort to help you settle into home here in Barcelona.

And you quickly find yourself and her spending an awful lot of time together. At her apartment, with Nala curled in your lap. At your place, with her commandeering your kitchen and filling it with delicious smells. At night when the city goes a little quiet and your thoughts get too loud. At the beach, learning to sink in the sand from the master, her face turned up towards the sun, forcing you to exist in the quiet with her.

She’s easily been one of the best parts of coming to the club, aside from the football. She makes you feel like you belong, even if it’s only been 8 weeks. You can see why Lucy once told you that Barcelona was the best place she ever played football. That they’re a family in a way no other club she’s been at touches. Because you feel it, even with your limited time here.

You turn your attention back to deciphering the Ingrid/Mapi/Patri debacle when you feel Alexia’s fingers start tracing shapes over the skin exposed through the rip in your jeans. Your quad tenses at the fluttery feeling before you relax back into the booth with a small exhale.

You can see Alexia’s small smirk from the corner of your eye. It’s like she lives for pulling reactions out of you. You huff out a grunt at proving her theory right that you English are rolled a little tight.

You are so focused on dissecting the interactions between Mapi and Patri and Ingrid that you miss the woman walking up to the table, dark hair thrown over her shoulder, smile gracing her painted lips.

“Hola,” she says, drawing attention her way. “I’m Lucía,” she says, looking at you.

You smile back politely, already turning away to study if the way Ingrid’s fingers are clenched around her glass is because the condensation is making it slippery or secretly a tell at Patri fondling her girlfriend.

“Would you like to dance?” the woman asks, voice hopeful.

“She’s taken,” Alexia instantly replies, a slight edge to her tone that has your eyes brought back towards the current situation. Ingrid and her relations with her glass will keep for now.

“Yeah, they’re dating,” Mapi chimes in, pointing to you and Alexia.

The woman frowns slightly but offers a shoulder shrug of acceptance and wanders off back to her friend group.

"We're not dating," you correct.

"Uh, yes we are?" Alexia chimes in, brow wrinkling up adorably.

"What? Since when?" you ask, confused at whatever joke she’s trying to make.

"Cari, what did you think this was?" she asks gently, laughing lightly, her free hand indicating between the two of you as the hand on your thigh squeezes to emphasize her point.

"You being Spanish! You're all so touchy feely!" you exclaim, voice rising as your hands gesture around.

Alexia laughs, the pads of her fingers pressed to her mouth as if she can stuff her smile back away. "There is a big difference between being touchy with your friends and touchy with your girlfriend.”

“Well tell me the difference then! It all looks the same.”

Alexia leans in, lips close to your ear. “I do not want to take my friends to bed,” she murmurs softly, her hand squeezing fairly high up your thigh in emphasis.

You exhale a breath, fighting the urge to shudder at the whisper of her breath across the shell of your ear. “If we’re dating, why haven’t you kissed me?” you ask breathlessly.

“We’ve kissed,” she asserts.

You roll your eyes. “I thought you Spaniards peck everyone on the lips! Your friends, your teammates, your family, the local bus driver, the busboy, the dog walker.”

She rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “I was waiting for you to indicate you were ready for more. You’re a little bit like a bird.”

“A bird?” you ask confused.

“Flighty,” she smiles. “Fluttery wings that take a few times to land and stay in one place. Easily scared off at quick movements.”

Okay, you feel only slightly attacked for her mentioning your erratic habits. But her gentle smile soothes that burn of truth.

“We’re dating?” you ask again, confusion still infused in your words.

“Sí”

“We’ve been on dates?”

“Sí”

“What dates??”

“That vineyard? That new restaurant with the rooftop garden where we held hands? The road trip up the coast? The farmer’s market? The private boat ride at sunset? I took you to my uncle’s birthday party, the family party?” She states, eyes imploring you to stop her at any point as she racks up all the different dates you’ve been on.

“What! I thought you were just being super friendly because I’m new to the team.”

“Cari, no!” she laughs. “Nobody gets invited to my family parties, not even Irene. I keep football and my personal life pretty separate.”

Oh, that changes your perspective a little. But how were you supposed to know that? What she’s saying makes sense though. You yourself thought that the vibes were pretty romantic during that boat ride at sunset, just the two of you and the captain. And you may or may not have watched her as the setting rays bathed her gold and desired to kiss her when she smiled at you so openly.

“Well shit, I’ve been dating Alexia Putellas this entire time and had no fucking clue,” you state in disbelief. “How’d I pull that off?”

She chuckles and pulls you into her side by your belt loops, hip nestling up against hers as her arm slides over your shoulder. “I didn’t realize you English were so oblivious.”

“Hey!” you say in mock irritation. “We’re just a little emotionally stunted, thank you. Not every culture can be so touchy feely as you Spanish. It would be too confusing. Imagine the entire world having to play this game.”

“What game?” she murmurs, face close.

“Are they just Spanish or are they dating?”

She laughs into the crook of your neck, body shrugging up and down with her chuckles.

And you’re thinking that if you are dating Alexia, it’s about time you enjoy some of those perks, sliding a hand into her hair and around the back of her neck. You pull her head up to yours, lips descending to capture hers in a proper kiss.

Untangling the thread between Mapi and Ingrid and Patri can wait for another day.

Right now, you’re solely focused on convincing Alexia that now that you are aware of your dating status, you are loudly indicating you are ready for her to show you the differentiation between friend and girlfriend.

The whole taking you to bed part.

Stat.

---------------------------

You watch her, reluctantly pulled onto the dance floor by an eager Jana.

Alexia has a hard time saying no to the kids. It’s one of the things you found most endearing about the legendary captain when you first joined Barça. Lucy had mentioned that you’d find the atmosphere different from the English clubs you’ve both filtered through in your careers.

So, you were expecting a bit of a closer relationship between these long-standing players. But you weren’t expecting her, Alexia. She’s an untouchable figurehead in recent years with her Ballon d’Or wins and countless others – Champions League, Nations League, World Cup.

You aren’t a stranger to success. The back-to-back Euros can attest to that.

But, still, she commands attention and respect at a frequency that is unmatched in your industry. You’ve yet to hear a single bad thing about her from teammates or rivals alike. With so many strong personalities and ultra-competitive women in the field, that is exceedingly rare. To have nobody who has a bad word to mouth about you.

You can’t even claim that. And you’re one of the happy-go-luckiest bitches on the pitch, in your humble opinion.

From her abbreviated movements at the edge of the group, you can tell that Alexia is not wholly comfortable out there on the bass-thumping dance floor. Still, she made the effort, not wanting to tell Jana no.

 But, your patience has worn thin.

Alexia dropped a bomb on you earlier. You two are dating. And you mistakenly assumed that meant that she would swoop you away to do something with that information.

But no. Instead, Jana asked her dance. And she said yes.

Alexia went ahead and sauntered over to the dance floor as if your world hadn’t been cracked wide open in the last hour, gaining yourself a world-class footballer girlfriend who you had no idea was already yours.

While you usually love nights out with your new teammates, this new family you’ve found yourself part of, tonight is not one of those nights.

Because since Alexia confirmed you two are dating, have been dating for weeks, all you can think about is taking her to bed. Or rather, her taking you. Whichever way she wants it, you’re not fussed.

You just want her. Now. Not after another hour or two of the girls jamming to the latest hot pop at the club.

You down your drink and push up to stand, pulling your blouse hem down from where it’s risen.

Enough. It’s time for you and the girlfriend you've just been informed you have to have a little bit of alone time. You’ve been patient. More than.

It's been at least four songs.

And now that you're allowing yourself to properly look at Alexia, really linger since it can't be considered crossing a boundary when she's your girlfriend, you are incredibly turned on.

Her jeans sit low on her hips, drawing your eyes to the way they accentuate the curve of her ass before falling off into wide pant legs.

The white crop top looks like it's been painted on, tight and bright and a beacon calling at you through the crowd. You need no confirmation that she isn't wearing a bra. Her nipples have no problem bearing that truth to you.

You nudge Mapi with a finger to her ribs. The defender grunts at you but reluctantly stands when you motion for her to let you out of the booth. You are a woman on a mission. A very important mission to get into one Miss Putellas' pants.

She catches your eye from across the room as you start threading between tables and bodies, destination set on her. When an oblivious man slides in front of you, causing you to pull up short to avoid touching his sweat-drenched shirt, you lose eye contact. And once you've side-stepped that mess of a man you see that someone else has caught your girlfriend's attention in your absence.

Or rather, someone has stepped up to command her attention. And Alexia is too damn polite for her own good.

You sigh and shake your head in a mix of annoyance and fondness at this woman who is shockingly yours.

You can tell by the way Alexia's eyes roam away from this stranger every few seconds to scan the crowd that she really would like to be out of this conversation. But the woman is just too damn polite to walk away.

And so, as her girlfriend, it is your duty to save her.

By the time you make it across the dance floor the man has his hand on her forearm and you can visibly see Alexia shrink away, unease leaking from her curled in posture and too tight smile.

You walk up like a woman possessed, shoulders thrown back and chin raised high. You barge through the man's arm, separating the tether between the two.

"Hey!" he shouts affronted.

You pay him no mind, instead wrapping a hand around Alexia's waist and turning her to lean up and whisper in her ear, "Let's go home."

She looks at you and nods in relief.

The man is still speaking for some strange reason. You just grab your girlfriend by her wrist and gently pull towards the exit, walking past the team booth and snagging her purse as you go. Your feet don't even stop.

You can feel Alexia's grin from behind as you break out into the fresh air, taking a deep breath. So much better.

Alexia grins at you, reaching her hand down to grab yours as you walk down the street, music fading with every step.

"My place or yours?" you ask, eyes dropping to gaze at her lips.

"Mmm, mine," she teases with a wink. "Bigger shower."

You moan low under your breath at the visual of her in the shower pressed up against the tiles. The things you'd like to do to her.

Barely maintaining control of your spiking arousal, you speed walk your way to Alexia's apartment, practically dragging the laughing midfielder along behind you.

Her apartment door swinging shut behind you with a firm thump pulls you out of your stupor. There are no audiences here, no grubby club goers, no teammates vying for Alexia's attention.

It's just you and her, your girlfriend. That word, even if uttered only in your head, sets you spinning in the most delicious way.

You can see her pupils dilate as you stalk towards her, shoes discarded, jacket dropped to the floor.

Hands drag through her hair. She wore it down tonight, and she looks so pretty with it that way. You're not sure you've told her that in the span of time between knowing that was not an appropriate comment to make to your captain and learning said captain apparently is also your girlfriend.

Your grip tightens slightly, dragging her head down as you claim her lips.

She moans into your mouth and the vibration has you groaning into her, wrecked at the knowledge that she's just as turned on as you are.

You shuffle the two of you towards her bedroom, chuckling slightly at how you know exactly where that is because you two have had sleepovers in her bed before.

How incredibly dense could you have been? As if sleeping in Alexia Putellas' bed was just a run-of-the-mill action from a captain looking out for the new signing. Stamp "cabrona" on your forehead and mail you back to England.

This girl must have the patience of a saint. To put up with oblivious you for so damn long.

And here and now, watching how her body turns pliant under your hands and lips, you realize that she probably would have waited an inordinate amount of time more waiting for you to make the first move.

Alexia Putellas, Miss Ballon d'Or herself, football legend, Catalan goddess, prefers to give up control rather than take it.

It sends you soaring as you press her down into the bed as she fucking whimpers at the contact.

"Ale," you murmur, drawing back to look at her lust-hazed eyes.

She blinks up at you. "¿Qué?"

"You're my girlfriend," you state with awe, hands trailing down her abs as you sit up, settling back into her lap.

She bites back a groan, hands settling on your waist. "Sí," punctuated by a thrust up of her hips, teeth worrying her bottom lip.

"Is this okay?" you check softly, grinding down into her gently.

That does draw a strangled noise somewhere from the back of her throat. Her eyes are wild as they find your gaze, head nodding insistently. "Por favor," she begs. "Tocamé."

You lean down, capturing her in another kiss as your hand trails up her arm, fingers delicately trailing along her exposed collar bone before landing on her breast.

She arches into the touch and you squeeze lightly, taking delight in how she turns her head into your neck to catch her breath.

You feel her own fingers start an exploration of your body.

But the clothes separating the two of you really, really need to go. You pull back and yank your blouse over your head in one motion.

Alexia's eyes feast on your chest, hands reaching out to cup you through your bra.

Your head falls back as you moan. Her touch is soft, slightly hesitant. Your hands cup her own, pushing her to touch you more insistently. You like it a little rough. And it's better she understand that up front.

The midfielder chuckles into your neck, fingers flipping one of your bra cups down to fully seat you in her hand before her fingers reach out to pinch a nipple.

Fuck, yes. That's it.

She has distracted you from your original purpose, though, to divest her of her clothing.

You reluctantly climb off her.

And she whines, hands reaching to pull you back onto her.

"Clothes," you state. Getting even that one word out is difficult when your mind is so wholly focused on the throb between your legs. All of her touches, her huffs of air against your skin, her thrum of energy has landed firmly between your legs.

You kick your pants and underwear down your legs and onto her bedroom floor.

As you move to pull off her jeans, you can feel the glide of your arousal coating your thighs as you move.

You are ridiculously wet.

You've been wet since the club. And you'd be willing to bet if you slipped a hand down between Alexia she would be as well.

Which is a good idea.

You discard the rest of her clothing somewhere near yours and pounce on her, pushing her back to lay down as you mount her, legs slotting on either side of her.

She can feel how wet you are in the glide against her abs. She clenches the muscles in response and groans into your mouth, reaching up to pull you back down to her mouth.

"Please," she whispers. "I need you."

Your hand is descending before she finishes speaking. Her wetness engulfs your fingers the second they find a home between her thighs.

She gasps as you make contact, a hand threading through your hair and pulling lightly. "Yessss."

Hearing her so affected at just an initial touch has your body running hot.

You paint kisses down her shoulder that quickly turn to nips when on the first one she moans at the bite.

Fingers drag through her, twirling and circling and spinning Alexia tighter and tighter.

She's panting into your neck at this point, moans spilled into your skin.

And you absorb them, let them run down your nervous system until you're just about there with her, grinding down on her thigh in a poor attempt at relieving the ache settled low in your stomach.

"Don't stop," she demands, eyes screwed shut as her thighs start to tense. "Don't stop, don't stop."

Your forearm flexes as you keep up the pace, other hand gripping her opposite hip to anchor her down as those hips start to gyrate the closer she gets to release.

You can hear the desperation in the noise escaping her. Not really moans anymore, definitely not words. Really just breathy, whining things at this point.

She raises the thigh you're pressed up against as you push her closer to the edge, thigh full on tensed. The way she pushes up into your clit, unintentional but still somehow hitting the exact spot you need, pulls a filthy moan out of you.

She finds her words again at that.

"Cari, look at me," she whispers.

You didn't even realize your eyes had closed. But you listen, finding her gaze easily.

The hunger you find there as her hands come to rest on your hips, pulling you forward and pushing you backward as you ride her thigh, has you careening towards your orgasm faster than you've ever experienced before.

You thought you were leading this dance. And you were. Still are.

But your moan awoke something in her that has her needing to wrap her body around yours and pull you over the cliff with her.

Your hips are working in rhythm with her hands, pulling you up with every pass of your clit over her thigh. Until she takes control of your rhythm, slowing it down, letting your body drag slowly, elongating the contact.

It causes your hips to stutter, the rhythm of your hand faltering for a second before you press firmer against her and start again.

She gasps at that. Pushes her body up into you, thigh included.

You can't take anymore. You're too far gone.

Your hips cant down onto her leg, taking what you need. Your fingers on her involuntarily speed up as your body crashes towards your peak.

She whispers it. Not for performance. Just out of desire to care for you. "Let go, I've got you."

And you do. You come in a crashing wave of heat, hips humping into her, body shaking as the stimulation becomes too much for your poor clit.

She captures your moaning mouth into a deep kiss, hand cradling your head.

Your fingers never stop.

She'll marvel at that later.

But for now, she follows you into orgasm, your sounds amplifying the pleasure for her. Where she pulled low, rumbling moans from you. Your fingers pluck high, sweet sighs from her.

You gently carry her back down, fingers trailing off to muted movement, just connection not intention.

Her final sigh is her loudest. A worn out huff of air that relays how much her body needed that release, muscles now lax and loose.

Alexia pushes you onto your back before she pillows her head on your shoulder and throws a leg over your hip.

It's comfortable and intimate all in one. You're close to drifting off. You can feel the haze closing in as your body starts to lose the battle with your incoming post-orgasm coma.

"Might be a bit slow with the Spanish things," you slur into her hair. "You might need to explicitly spell things out for me, love. Otherwise next thing I know you'll hand me a flower and all of a sudden I've missed that we're now married."

She laughs at that, rich and full.

You drift off to sleep with a smile on your lips, her laugh in your ears, her shampoo in your nose, and Alexia wrapped in your arms.

If history is any proof, and they have a lot of that, today wasn't going to be any different. 

"I’m telling you, the meeting is on the fourth floor." Vicky insisted, pressing the button for the third floor for the third time.

"Vicky, we’ve been in this building for months. The media room is on the second floor. Why are we even going up?" You adjusted your bag, which felt ten times heavier because you’d stuffed it with snacks ‘just in case’ the meeting ran long.

"Because," Vicky said, with the confidence of someone who definitely didn't know where she was going, "I saw Mapi go this way."

“I bet 10 bucks that Mapi had no idea where she was going either.” There is a very good possibility that this was likely true. 

“You know I would bet on that, but knowing Mapi that is very much possible.” 

The elevator door shut, lifted just an inch before jerking, making them lose their balance a little and then…nothing. Just silence.

No movement, no sound of swish elevators usually have, no soft dings to indicate the floor. 

“What did you do?!” You panicked, looking at Vicky as if she planned this on purpose. 

“Nothing!” Her hand shot up in defence “I literally just pressed the button.”

“You sure?” You narrowed your eyes, the accusation palpable in them.

“No, I'm an evil witch who cast an ‘abracadabra’ spell to get stuck with you!” She replied with an eye roll.

“Well you being an evil witch does sound believable.” That was met with a smack on your arm by Vicky. 

You pressed the emergency button. Nothing. You kicked the door. Also nothing, except a sore toe. 

“Looks like we're stuck.” You glared at the door as if it would break it open.

“Oh really? Great detective skills.” Vicky smirked, seemingly calm and unbothered in a situation that highly called for panic. 

“What did I do to deserve being stuck with you?” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Definitely some good karma.” Vicky responded immediately, grinning.

——

Alexia entered the meeting room, ten minutes left for the briefing to begin and that still constituted late in her books.

Patri and Ona looked up upon her arrival and their eyes narrowed, as if something wasn't right. There was something different about Alexia, something lacking from the usual. 

And that was two teenagers trailing behind her, following her closely after being schooled for being mischievous.

It happened so often, that it had become Alexia’s personality now and what she was known for around the centre. A tired and unofficial mom of two hyperactive kids, in desperate need of more caffeine.

Alexia scanned the room as she usually does and her eyes flew wide when recognition dawned upon her, before her gaze met those of Patri and Ona, who were already on the same page.

“Where are they?” Alexia squeaked. It was barely eight in the morning and she was just on her second dose of coffee. She needed more before dealing with any of your shenanigans.

“We thought they were with you.” Ona replied, equally panicked. You and Vicky left alone was never good news. 

“I was on a call with my agent and I figured they were here already!” 

Pina chimed in from behind them, finding the entire situation incredibly entertaining. “So let me get this straight. Y/n and Vicky are missing. And there is no apparent adult supervision with them. And no one here has any idea where they are currently. Oh, this is going to be hilarious!” 

“I can't wait to see what they're up to now,” Mapi added, turning in her seat to face the group. 

Alexia rubbed a hand down her face, already dreading what was coming “This is not funny.” 

Mapi, Pina and Cata ignored her completely as they started their bidding. 

“10 dollars says they got lost in the hallway.” Pina bid confidently because that had been the case 9 out of 10 times. 

“Just like Mapi.” Cata snickered as Mapi smacked her.

“That is not true!” She defended “I was - just exploring.” 

“Sure, whatever you say, Maps.” Pina and Cata laughed while in the background the responsible adults collectively lost their minds. 

Meanwhile, if someone thought that being stuck in an elevator should be a good enough reason for panic, they clearly hadn't met ‘the trouble duo’ of Barcelona. 

Panic was a lost cause. Instead they found an opportunity for something….better.

After barely a few minutes of your attempts to use your elusive telekinesis and convince Vicky that this was the best scenario to use her witch power and bust the door open, you gave up.  

Instead you reached for your bag, unzipped the upper compartment and pulled out two hair brushes and two pairs of funky eyewear, which had no business being packed in the first place. 

You offered a pair of each to Vicky after discarding your bag to the side again.

“What are these for?” she asked confused but accepted it nonetheless, putting the glasses on as you did yourself. 

“You see,” You trailed off, now setting your phone on the handrail opposite to the pair of you, before stepping back and pulling Vicky with you to ensure both were in the frame.

“We can either lose our minds being caged,” you turned to face her, your signature menace grin making an appearance “Or we could give the performance we were born for. The world has waited long enough!” 

There was not a single second you thought you'd had to do some convincing to get Vicky on board because before you could even finish, a grin mirroring yours had already been plastered on her face and her eyes sparkled with the same intensity as yours. 

You two shared a single braincell and it clearly showed.

With a high five and the song already chosen with just a shared look, the two gremlins were set to deliver a performance in a 6x6 metal box that Barcelona would remember forever. 

——

In the room below, after the betting on how much trouble you'd both be in ended by a death stare from Alexia to all, the group had gathered around the large table pitching different ideas.

The tactical briefing was long forgotten and in its place was a ‘find and rescue’ mission that had engrossed them all. 

They divided themselves into small groups and decided to search different places you two could have possibly gone. 

“Anything?” Alexia asked as she, Ona and Patri met the other trio after checking the hallway. 

“Nothing, they weren't in their usual napping spots.” Mapi replied with a shake of the head. 

“Maybe we should check the second -” The brunette sighed, worry starting to creep up, suggesting other ideas before she paused mid-sentence, hearing some strange noises building up. 

It was faint at first but then heavy thudding could be heard, as if multiple pairs of boots were stomping real hard. Alexia swore she could see the floor above them tremble. 

Muffled sounds reached them next. Everyone tilted their head to the side in confusion, trying to make sense of what was happening. But it didn't take them long, as the pitch grew higher and they quickly clocked on what was going on. 

“HEARTBREAKERS GONNA BREAK, BREAK, BREAK, BREAK, BREAK 

AND THE FAKERS GONNA FAKE, FAKE, FAKE, FAKE, FAKE BABY, I’M JUST GONNA SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE, SHAKE I SHAKE IT OFF, I SHAKE IT OFF”

You were standing on top of the handrail, the only time grateful for your small height as you didn't bang your head against the elevator's ceiling while bouncing up and down. 0 on 10 for the balance, 10 on 10 for the commitment. 

“SHAKE IT OFF, I SHAKE IT OFF 

I, I, I SHAKE IT OFF, I SHAKE IT OFF 

I, I, I SHAKE IT OFF, I SHAKE IT OFF

I, I, I SHAKE IT OFF, I SHAKE IT OFF”

Vicky gave her all to this performance. If football ever fell through, she now knew what her backup option would be. On her knees, feeling the song within her soul.

“Lopez, give me the beats!” 

Vicky started beatboxing. It was mostly just spitting but the effort was there. 

“HEY, HEY, HEY

JUST THINK, WHILE YOU’VE BEEN GETTIN’ DOWN AND OUT ABOUT THE LIARS-”

You belted, off tune was one thing, your voice was another. It hit a note so high, it cracked a mirror back at the Madrid training centre.

“Are they-” Pina started, worried, amused, thoroughly entertained altogether. This day could not get better for her. “- having a concert while being stuck in an elevator?” 

“They sure are.” Alexia muttered under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. The absurdity of the situation left her wondering if she should laugh or start pulling her hair out. 

Her eyes wandered behind Patri, squinting as it landed on the elevator that had a very clear, very bright yellow signboard ‘DO NOT USE. UNDER SERVICE’ to its right. “What are the chances those crackheads used that particular elevator, ignoring the warning?” she pointed. 

“Given the way they are in the middle of their private show with no indication of stopping, I'd say 100 per cent.” Cata crackled, Pina and Patri dissolved in laughter too along with her. 

To think Alexia could have one normal day, with one normal meeting session when you two existed, was a far-fetched wish in itself.

——

“Y/n! Vicky!” A muffled sound came through the door.

“Is that -” Vicky jumped, clutching her chest “the ghost of the elevator appreciating our voices?” 

“It’s Alexia!” The brunette yelled so it could be heard by you two. “Stop singing. The technician will be here any moment to get you both out.” 

“Capí, don't interrupt us!” you yelled back, fully absorbed in whatever illusion you both were in. “We are in the middle of a very important duet!” 

There was some more yelling, some snickering, some laughter, some more shouting to drown that laughter but you two paid no mind to it after, which would have its own consequences later.

You were in the middle of, what you would classify as the holy performance that the world could only live once. 

“Turn around….” Eyes closed, taking in a deep breath, imagining yourself in front of thousands of people. Your hairbrush, now gracefully accepting its fate of guitar as you strummed its invisible strings.

“Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming around…” Vicky’s hairbrush was now more stuck up to her nose than her actual mouth. 

“Turn around….”

“Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears…”

“Turn around bright eyes…”

At this, both turned to face each other, knowing damn well they'll be belting the last segment together. 

“EVERY NOW AND THEN I FALL APART. AND I NEED YOU NOW TONIGHT AND I NEED YOU MORE THAN EVER..”

“Is this even a song?” was the comment heard from outside.

“ONCE UPON A TIME I WAS FALLING IN LOVE, NOW I’M ONLY FALLING APART….”

Your voices crossed a threshold it didn't realise it had as you both sang the last line on top of your lungs. 

“THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO, IT'S THE TOTAL ECLIPSE OF THE HEARTTTTT.”

——

20 minutes later, the technician had finally done its magic and what Alexia liked to call ‘an angelic favour’ to the poor metal box that had the cursed luck to be trapped with you two. God knows she would have given up on life if it had been her for even a minute. 

When the doors finally opened, the scene that greeted the team left them speechless. That was the duo’s speciality after all. 

Both of you, standing close. In the middle of delivering your Grammy acceptance speech, mustering your best emotional and grateful expression. 

The water bottle, your trophy, was held dearly between you and Vicky, like a prized possession.  

Blinking back the fake tears, you continued even though the door had opened long ago and the team could clearly make out there was something seriously wrong with the upper section of the skull of the two teens. Because once you commit to something, you see it to the end. 

You leaned into the imaginary microphone. “We would like to thank the elevators that gave us the platform when the world turned its back on us.” 

“And lastly our fans,” Vicky dabbed her eyes with her training bib, while the whole squad looked around to find the apparent ‘fans’ Vicky was referring to. 

Was this the sign of schizophrenia? Should they be worried?

“Thankyou for believing in us. We couldn’t have done it without you.” And with a final, dramatic bow, the show came to an end. 

There was a moment of silence before the team lost it entirely. Half of them were on the floor, howling and clutching their stomach, real tears in their eyes from how hard they were laughing. Half stunned from what they just witnessed. There were really no words to describe what had happened. 

“You two need serious help.” Mapi said in between trying to catch her breath. 

“Don’t we all, Mapi?” you shot back, sniffling and wiping away the airy tears. 

“We do. Just not as much as you two.” 

You stepped out and turned towards the technician who watched the entire scene unfold wide eyed “Take care of this, Carlos. It is irreplaceable.” You said as you handed him the bottle like a precious heirloom, staring at him seriously and nodding once.

The poor technician was confused beyond words. He didn't even know who Carlos was.

“Right, coffee isn't going to cut it anymore. I’m going to need something stronger.” Alexia muttered after staring at the two intensely, unsure where to even begin to address the situation. 

“We know you're just heartbroken you couldn't get front seats to our show capí.” You commented as you passed her on your way out, grinning widely.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you exclusive tickets to our private concert next time.” Vicky assured, patting Alexia’s shoulder and sympathising as if she could understand their captain's pain on missing out their world class performance before joining you. 

Alexia’s jaw was left open, but you two had not one ounce of regret on that face, happily skipping ahead and perfectly content with the way your day had turned out. 

And just like that, the history persisted and the duo’s legacy thrived. 

——

Ps: - This is based on my real experience. I’m not really good with closed spaces. So a year ago, my friend and I were returning to my place for a sleepover when we got stuck in an elevator. And we had two options, either be miserable ourselves or pass on that misery to the world with our extremely off-tune singing and confident wrong lyrics. Guess which option we went with? Safe to say my parents were mortified to address me their blood after lol. (we moved a month after that and I believe my actions contributed greatly to that decision) anyways I hope you like it :)

Please let me know what you think! Your responses mean the world to me💗

Leah would sit smiling every day, hand on her chin, listening to Frida ramble on and on about you. She’d always thought you were attractive, but hearing all these nice qualities about you, it felt like she was in love with you without even having met you properly yet.

When you did join, Frida was the first person to greet you at the door, quickly followed by club vice captain, Leah, who had pestered Frida all week to find out when you were coming in.

“Hi, I’m-” Leah began as she stuck her hand out.

“I know who you are” you smiled. “The 8-0 loss at the Euros still breaks me a little everyday” you playfully sighed.

You remember you felt so shit after that game, but Leah shaking your hand after the game gave you almost an immediate uplifting. You thought she was stunning, much like everyone else did, and she always came across like a really down to earth person.

“Y/n” you said, slotting your hand into hers and shaking it gently.

“I know” Leah smiled and nodded. “I, uh, just wanted to come and say hello, but I’m sure Frida is okay to show you around?” Leah looked towards Frida, almost like she wanted Frida to suggest that she couldn’t possibly do that and that Leah should take you instead.

“Happy to” Frida smiled, and nudged your shoulder, both of your giggles drowning out Leah’s sigh.

“See you around then” Leah smiled, walking off.

“Bye” you called after the blonde before turning back to a smirking Frida. “What?” You asked.

“You like her” she squeezed your arm.

“Hold kjeft Frida” you groaned. “I just met her” you pointed out.

But Frida was right, although you didn’t want to admit it, you fell in love with Leah that day. As time ticked on, you and Leah became friends, and even quicker after that, you started dating.

You and Leah got together in and around the same time Ingrid started going out with her girlfriend, Mapi. Despite living in two separate countries, you and Ingrid made conscious efforts to travel to see each other as often as possible, and she usually dragged Mapi and you dragged Leah with you.

The four of you got on extremely well. You and Ingrid were practically attached at the hip whenever you seen each other. Mapi and Leah were always making fun of the both of you when you’d argue, but they loved their Norwegian princesses. You knew Ingrid was loved up, and she knew you were loved up too. Leah was perfect, there wasn’t a single thing you would change about her. She cared about you and she looked after you unlike anybody had before.

-

You’d travelled to Manchester today to play against Manchester United. You’d fallen asleep on the bus, tucked into your girlfriend, who was also snoring softly beneath you. You both had an earphone in, Leah’s country music was playing softly, so you were thankful that you were currently asleep. You hated her music taste.

Leah’s breathing started to become rapid, forcing your eyes wide open and your head to shoot up off her chest. Her nose was scrunched up and you could see her chest was rising and failing quickly, but her eyes were still screwed shut.

“Lee, min kjærlighet” you cooed softly, squeezing her hand. “It’s okay” you mumbled quietly as you watched her eyes open.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, cupping your cheek and scanning your face, trying to work out why you looked sad.

“Did you have a bad dream? You were breathing so fast” you told the English skipper who shrugged, shook her head, and broke away from your eye line. Leah hated talking about when things were wrong.

“Are you stressed about today?” You tried a different route in with getting to the bottom of Leah’s problem, but she was having none of it.

“I said no” Leah huffed, folding her arms and turning up the volume of the music.

You took the earphone out of your ear and placed it on her lap. Before she could say anything else, or even apologise for being snappy with you, you’d swapped seats to sit beside Frida a few rows back, snuggling into her to try and go back to sleep.

“You okay?” Frida asked as you nodded at her and tucked further into her, both of you eventually drifting off again.

When you arrived to the stadium, you and Frida were woken up by Stina as both of you scanned the bus to realise you were the only three still on it. You wandered back over to your seat to collect your things, but everything was gone. Leah often had a habit when she knew she’d annoyed you to try and make it up to you through small gestures, so you knew she’d carried your stuff in. Sure enough, when you got off the bus and headed to your cubby in the changing room, there was all of your things, laid out in the order you liked them.

You’d turned to say thank you to your girlfriend, but she already was heading out the door with Kim, who was injured today, without even looking back to let you know. Leah’s communication skills and the way she handled her emotions were sometimes the equivalent of a teenager. But that’s what made Leah, Leah, so you wouldn’t change anything.

You got ready for the warm up and headed outside with Frida and Stina, sticking with both of them, and acting as is if Leah was an opposition player rather than your own team mate, let alone, your girlfriend. You and Stina were both starting up front, with Frida out on the wing while Leah tucked into the defence. You and Leah knew each other so well at this point that she didn’t even need to look up when she’d do her infamous ping over the top ball, she knew where you were, always.

Just before you walked out of the tunnel, you felt a hand sneak around your waist and pull you into its grasp. You knew the feeling a little too well to be in any doubt as to who it was.

“I’m sorry m’love” Leah mumbled as you shook your head to indicate it was okay. “We’ll talk after the game, love you”

“Love you too, good luck” you kissed her cheek as she made her way up to the top of the line, captains armband strapped on her arm.

The game had started lively, Stina and Frida had linked up nicely in the opening few minutes but Stina couldn’t find the target.

It was around the 9th minute when you watched your girlfriend take the step into midfield when you knew she was going to launch a ball forward. You turned sharply to make a run, shouting to Frida and Stina to split the defenders and give you space.

You grunted when you heard the referees whistle and slowed your pace down to a stop, still facing towards Leah’s English team mate, Mary, in goal, who had a look of concern on her face.

The entire stadium fell to an eerie silence, apart from a singular scream you heard let rip on the pitch. You turned back to try and see where it was coming from and froze seeing Leah on the ground, punching it in pain. You can’t remember thinking of anything in that particular moment, but your legs set off running towards her.

“Lee” you breathed out, reaching for her hand to stop her from repeatedly hitting the ground and cupping her face. You pulled her head to face you and away from her knee, which the physios were assessing in great detail.

“It tore, I heard it rip” she cried as you pulled her head against your chest and stroked her hair.

“Pust, det er greit” you cooed, trying to keep her calm.

“Do you think you can walk?” The physio asked as she shook her head.

“Don’t get that fucking stretcher” she shouted at them.

“Leah” you frowned, but the medical team were used to being shouted at. They intervened at times when frustrations were sky high.

“I can help her” you suggested. You beckoned over those bigger than you, Rafa already on the pitch and Jen running over from the bench.

“Win this for me baby girl, yeah?” Leah asked and you nodded at her.

You felt like the girl had tasked you with the impossible, because how were you meant to concentrate on anything when she was the third team mate you’d watch go down in the last few weeks telling you the same thing about hearing something rip.

Russo, then a United player, had made it 1-0 just before half time, and when you got into the changing rooms to see all of Leah’s stuff gone, you got worse from there. Every pass you made, you gave away possession. You hadn’t completed one successful dribble, or even had a shot on target before subbed off in the 60th minute.

“Y/n” Kim called you when you got off the pitch. Kim was also nursing an injury and was just here as a spectator. “They took Leah for a scan on her knee, she said she’ll see you back at the hotel” Kim informed you.

You gave her a nod and you could tell she pitied you. Most people probably wouldn’t put you and Leah together. You were a quiet and introverted person, while Leah was demanding and chatty.

The scan had confirmed that your girlfriend’s self diagnosis was correct, she had torn her ACL.

-

The next few months you spent running around after Leah, not letting a single thing get on top of her that didn’t need to be. She, along with Mapi, both travelled over to watch you and Ingrid play at the World Cup. Although Mapi wasn’t playing by choice, you could tell both of them were a little bit annoyed that they were there as supporters rather than players, especially Leah.

Originally, the medical team at Arsenal told Leah she would be back for the beginning of the WSL season, but she faced a bit of a set back in her recovery, ruling her out until at least November.

You cursed the day the medical team said anything, because they weren’t the ones having to deal with the aftermath of Leah’s set back, you were.

“Lee, I’m home min kjærlighet” you called from the front door, dropping your gym bag on the ground and taking off your trainers.

“Yeah, cool” she shouted back from the living room.

The brief response usually meant she was playing something on the PlayStation with Laura, who she talked to on the little headset you bought her. Leah didn’t have any physio or rehab today, so she’d had the whole day to do whatever she wanted.

Despite the set back, Leah was physically fine. She could walk and was starting to run again. She could also very easily take dishes out of the dishwasher and put them away, or bring the clean clothes upstairs and put them away, but instead, she happily waited for you to do it when you got home. You promised yourself to continue to bite your tongue until she was back playing football.

“Can you pause it so I can have a kiss?” You asked politely, not wanting to interrupt her too much.

“2 seconds baby girl. Laura for fuck sake, get him!” Leah shouted into the headset.

“What’s for dinner?” Leah asked, as you took your phone out to start scrolling, not knowing if she was talking to you or Laura. “Y/n” Leah moaned.

You misjudged the needy call as now was your chance for a kiss, so as you leaned over, and blocked Leah’s view, you were met with a grunt.

“Fuck sake! I asked what’s for dinner?”

“Oh, sorry. I can do whatever you want” you forced a smile, almost like the room was filled with people and you were embarrassed by the way she spoke to you.

You scurried off towards the kitchen, cooking a meal you knew she wouldn’t moan or complain about. If you were honest, you wanted nothing else for her to think you were a good girlfriend, and for her friends to think you were good enough for her, so whatever Leah wanted or needed, you usually just did it without hesitation. Leah wasn’t a bad person, there was just an expectation of you from her that as time went on you began to feel more pressured by.

She eventually followed you into the kitchen, after finishing another game with Laura. Leah forced her to restart due to the blip in concentration when you blocked her view.

“Hi, darlin’” Leah grinned, pulling you against her and pressing a kiss against your cheek. “What’s my little chef cooked tonight?” She teased.

“Please stop calling me little chef. You know who it makes me feel like” You whined playfully back, pushing the shit feeling you’ve had since you came home to the back of your mind.

“But that rat is adorable” Leah smirked. Since watching Ratatouille, she has referred to you as little chef, much to your dismay.

“Just do not refer to me as a rat in front of my parents next week” you laughed, going back to cutting vegetables and shimming out of her already loose hold.

“Yeah, baby, about that” Leah mumbled. “I can’t come to Norway with you, I have to stay and train. I asked for extra rehab” she shrugged, moving across to set the table. A thing she did when you knew she felt a little bit of guilt.

“You asked?” You frowned, turning away from the chopping board and dropping the knife. “I asked you to come to Norway with me, to watch me play, and you said yes. Why couldn’t you have done rehab this week instead of doing nothing?” You huffed. Maybe this was your boiling point.

“I want to be back playing, why are you being such a bitch about it?” Leah groaned.

“Excuse me?”

This was it. This was the moment you said enough, that you found your back bone. One big enough to finally tell Leah off after the months of treating you this way. This was -

“Seriously? You go on about asking me to do things when that’s all you’ve done for months! Leah drink this, Leah eat that, Leah do your stretching” she nagged, mocking your accent.

“You asked me to come to Norway and I said yes because I was free, now I’m not free. What’s the big deal? I asked you to win the game against United and you didn’t even do that. You played so shit they had to take you off. Thank god Alessia starts over you now, that’s why we’re actually winning! You asked me to come see you at the World Cup, and I went. I didn’t want to go, and you didn’t even care it upset me because it was all about you. And I go, and you still play rubbish there. At least I got to watch good football when the girls played” she moaned.

“I’m sorry” you muffled, wiping away a tear that threatened to slip down your cheek before she saw.

“Forget dinner, I’m going out” she said and took off towards the door.

You pathetically ran after her, muttering apologies, as if everything she said was right.

“God, can you give it a rest? If you’re going to apologise to me, you need to apologise to everyone, because everyone thinks the same as me”. With that, she slammed the front door and stormed out to her car, driving to god knows where. You were the last person she was going to tell that to.

You slumped on the couch, and finally let your begging tears free. How could she be this hurtful? This cruel? She was meant to love and care about you more than anybody else. Did everyone really think that way of you? Even after you tried so hard to be a good person? Your mind ran wild for hours and hours until eventually you panicked even more.

Where was Leah? Why wasn’t she home yet?

You called her and it went straight to voicemail. There was no point messaging her, because you knew she wouldn’t reply.

You eventually located her on a post on Alex’s private story, out in a night club, wearing clothes that she must have borrowed from her best friend, because she did not leave the house in them. Realising she wasn’t coming home, with it already being 1am and you needing to be up at 7am for training, you decided to try and get some sleep.

After 45 minutes of tossing and turning, you realised it was beyond pointless trying to sleep. You trudged downstairs, duvet and pillows in hand and made a makeshift bed on the couch. You headed back up to grab your phone and put on one of Leah’s hoodies. Somehow, despite everything she’d said and the way she’d made you feel, wearing her jumper gave you a weird sense of comfort.

You were pathetic.

-

“Y/n” you heard a voice call as your eyes flickered open, taking in your surroundings of your living room. “Der er du! I’ve been calling you all morning” Frida sighed with relief once she had you in sight.

“What time is it?” You asked, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“7:30am, come on, get up. We have to be there in half an hour” Frida frowned as you rose to your feet, slugging your tired body up the stairs to get ready.

She picked up your phone, which you’d left on the counter, to see it was in fact dead. You quickly got changed and came back downstairs, gym bag entangled around your limbs.

“Sorry” you yawned, knowing you’d delayed your fr- teammate. You couldn’t get Leah’s words out of your head. It was making doubt every relationship you had with people.

“It’s okay, we all sleep it out sometimes” she smiled, taking your gym bag off you and heading towards the car, plugging your phone into her charger. “You want to stop for a coffee?” She asked as you shook your head.

“I’ve delayed you enough this morning” you mumbled, putting your head against the window and shutting your eyes.

“Vil du fortelle meg hvorfor du lå på sofaen?” She questioned, pulling out of the driveway.

“Det spiller ingen rolle” you purred softly, letting yourself drift off for the 20 minute drive.

Frida collected you most mornings now that Leah wasn’t driving. You could drive, but Frida had offered to car pool and get you on her way since Leah’s injury. Another thing that right now was making you feel like a burden.

You remained quiet for the remainder of the day, not getting involved in conversations that were going on. You just trained and ate at the required times and didn’t do anything else.

At the end of the session, you told Frida that Leah was coming to get you. You waited around to let everyone else leave before ordering yourself an Uber. You repeated the process of avoiding people for the entire week, telling Frida that you were driving to and from training yourself this week to make sure your car battery wasn’t close to dying. You stayed out of everyone’s way, including Leah’s, when you were at home.

You made dinner for two still, but you were barely eating, just shoving it in the fridge for a “later” that never came, and leaving Leah’s in the microwave, before pottering off to bed. You can’t recall Leah touching your bed since the argument.

You left early the next morning, not bothering to wake Leah to say goodbye. She would probably just complain if you woke her anyway. You met Frida at the airport, but you’d been so distant with her during the week, she didn’t force you into much conversation. Just sticking to very basic and easy questions.

“Looking forward to seeing Ingrid?” She asked as you nodded.

If there was anything you needed right now, it was your big sister. You didn’t necessarily need to tell her how you were feeling, but it would be nice to be around someone you knew could at least tolerate you.

“Lillesøster” Ingrid squealed when she seen you walking into the hotel, pulling you into a tight hug. She was in her Norwegian gear already with no bags in sight.

“Hei” you mumbled against her. “I need to go to the room but I will come back” you informed her, gesturing to your bags, as she slipped you the spare key card to your shared room.

You wandered off, tugging your bags along with you, as Ingrid and Frida started catching up. They hadn’t seen each other since the last Norwegian camp as the time between then and now, you and Leah had taken the trip to Barcelona to see Ingrid, and subsequently Keira as well. Frida was staying in the room just next door with Ada. Some nights, you and Ada would swap rooms so the best friend duos could be reunited, you with Frida, and Ingrid with Ada, but you didn’t seem pushed to move an inch this camp.

“That is the most I’ve heard her talk all week” Frida informed your sister, who instantly frowned. You weren’t overly chatty, but you certainly didn’t remain quiet. You maybe weren’t the life of the party, but you were friendly and pleasant.

“Is something wrong?” Ingrid asked.

“She’s been acting weird since I picked her up for training the other morning. I tried calling her but her phone was dead” Frida continued.

“That doesn’t sound that weird” Ingrid anxiously forced her eyebrows to scrunch up.

“Well, I have a spare key for emergencies, so I went in and found her asleep on the couch. I don’t think Leah was even home” Frida shrugged.

“Has something happened with her and Leah?” Ingrid probed further.

“I don’t think so. Nobody has said anything at training. I’ve tried to push her into talking to me, even a little, but I’m getting nowhere” Frida sighed as Ingrid’s hands gripped her own hips, as she pondered the thought.

“I will deal with it” she told your best fr - your colleague. “I’ll bring her down in a little while”.

“Okay” Frida nodded.

Ingrid hurried off upstairs to get you, while Frida headed to drop off her own stuff next door, and then went straight back down to see everyone. Only, when Ingrid swiped the card to get into your room, she found you bundled up on the bed, an Arsenal hoodie, with the initials LW and the number 6 on it sat snug on your body, hiding your teary face from her.

“Y/n/n, what’s wrong?” Ingrid pouted, immediately rushing to your side and grabbing your hands.

“Trett” you sniffled and shrugged.

“You don’t cry when you’re tired” Ingrid shook her head and squeezed your hands harder. “Not like this, anyway”

“Nothing is wrong” you tried again, but Ingrid insisted.

“Please don’t lie to me. Frida told me you have been distant this week, and that she found you on the couch. Did something happen with Leah?” She asked you this time.

“No, nothing happened” you pulled the strings of Leah’s hoodie, tightening the hood further.

“Fint. I will just call Leah and-”

“Nei, takk” you pleaded, scrambling to take her hands back so she couldn’t get to her phone. You took a deep sigh as her eyes bored into your sockets.

“We had a fight, about her not coming to Norway” you stated as a matter of fact.

“And?” Ingrid probed.

“She said stuff that upset me and hasn’t spoken to me since. It was fine, I deserved it” you shrunk against the wall, tucking your knees against your chest and wrapping your arms around them.

“What did she say?” Ingrid asked.

“It doesn’t matter, Ingrid” you shook your head, but she would not listen.

“Tell me what she said. Now” Ingrid demanded.

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to work out how to word what Leah had said. You weren’t sure where to even start. You sighed and took a deep breath before your sentences spilled out of your mouth like you were just vomiting words. When you’d finished, Ingrid was so shocked, she got on her feet to express her outrage.

“Beklager, she said what?” Your older sister frowned with her hands on her hips.

“Ingrid, please. It’s so stupid. She was just angry because-” you tried to justify Leah’s behaviour, but your sister stopped you.

“I am going home with you after camp” Ingrid informed you. “I am going to take a few days off, and we will fly home with you”

“We?” You asked.

“María will come too” Ingrid nodded, taking out her phone to get her girlfriend to work out the logistics of the trip, and filling her in briefly, which went like:

Princesa 👸🏻

Book flights to London. Tell Barca staff we are taking a holiday. Need to kill Leah. Do not ask questions.

Elsker ❤️💙

Okay bebé xx

-

You’d became almost like a shell of your former self throughout camp. Your training performances were so bad, you didn’t get a singular minute for the entire international window.

However, true to her word, Mapi had booked time off for her and Ingrid and bought flights to get them back to London with you. Leah hadn’t messaged or called you once since you left either, which made you think you were about to come home to an empty house, or for all your stuff to be sitting outside waiting for you.

But instead, when you got to the front door, Ingrid and Mapi either side of you like your own personal body guards mumbling to each other in Spanish so you couldn’t understand, you found Leah on the couch. Her elbows were resting on her bouncing knees and her head was in her hands. The sudden noise of movement got her to her feet, as she came rushing towards you.

“Baby girl, I’m so glad you’re-” Leah stopped abruptly, seeing your sister closing the front door and Mapi instantly heading to the staircase with a suit case in either hand.

“Go and help María” Ingrid said, yanking you back from where you had stepped forward almost as if you were about to let Leah take you into her arms and forget everything.

“We need a little chat” Ingrid crossed her arms, looking at your girlfriend from head to toe and gestured her back towards the couch she’d just jumped up from.

You scurried up the stairs to María who was sitting on the spare bed, in the spare room, scrolling on her phone. She put her arms out for you to slot into once she’d seen you come in.

“You know, regardless of what anyone thinks, I love you a lot, and so does Ingrid” Mapi cooed, pulling you in a little tighter as you felt your heart ease for the first time in a little over two weeks.

“Listen, Ingrid” Leah began before being interrupted yet again.

“Sorry, I know English is my third language so maybe chat was the wrong word. You’re going to sit there, stay quiet and listen. I’m going to talk. Got it?” Ingrid snapped as Leah pathetically nodded.

“I’m so-”

“Who do you think you are speaking to my sister that way? Do you think you’re special? You’re uerstattelig? News flash, it is the opposite way around. She is special. She is irreplaceable. But I will be so sure to make sure she drops you if you ever, ever speak to her again like how you did”

“Ingrid, I-”

“You haven’t even contacted her to say sorry! You walked out of here after saying that, leaving her to think you were right. You are pathetic and you are so lucky my sister loves you, because I would personally love nothing more than to punch you right now”

“Hit me then” Leah sighed, sinking into the couch. Ingrid’s face softened slightly, knowing Leah was sorry, but she wasn’t someone to let someone off lightly.

“You promised me you would never hurt her when we first met. And I trusted her with you, because everyone told me that my reservations were wrong and that you were nice” Ingrid pouted. “Why my sister? What has she ever done wrong?”

“Nothing. She’s never done anything wrong” Leah shook her head with tears forming in her eyes.

“You made her feel like everyone hates her and that she is awful at what she does. Yet for some strange reason, she continues to run back to you, like you are something to be desired”

“Nok Ingrid, takk” you begged from the living room door.

“Hun fortjener det” your sister snapped back. Usually, Mapi and Leah could follow your Norwegian. But when you and Ingrid spoke, it was too fast to keep up with.

“Vennligst la meg snakke med henne alene” you pleaded. Mapi had ran down after you and was giving Ingrid a look which was trying to convince her to listen to you. Despite not knowing what it was Ingrid was listening to.

“We are not finished” Ingrid warned, pointing at your girlfriend and walking out of the living room, slamming the door behind her.

“You did great, princesa” Mapi smiled in fear of how angry her girlfriend was, following after her into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry” you mumbled quietly as Leah frowned at you.

“Why are you sorry baby girl?” Leah asked. “Can you sit down with me?” You sat next to her and tucked your knees into your chest.

“You have nothing to apologise for, and neither does Ingrid. She was right, with everything she said” Leah sighed.

“No, she was too harsh” you pouted.

“All this time I’ve made you feel like you weren’t good enough, when actually, it’s me who’s not good enough for you. My life, since doing my knee, has just been so shit, and you are the only good thing and I’ve fucked it up” Leah was furious with herself, and clearly had been practicing these lines.

“You don’t need to-“

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I know sorry isn’t good enough right now, and it might not ever be. But I think you’re more than good enough. You’re a good enough friend, a good enough sister and definitely a good enough girlfriend. I’ve rightly fucked this up, but I am begging you, please don’t go” Leah whispered the last part, and you knew she meant it when she said she was begging.

“I’m not going anywhere” you placed your hand gently over hers and sniffled a little.

“I promise I’ll spend my whole life making this up to you. I will treat you the way you deserve it and more every single day” she squeezed your hand before putting her arm around your waist and pulling you against her.

“Jeg beklager prinsesse” she mumbled as you smiled against her.

“I can’t stop her from shouting at you” you smirked as your girlfriend groaned.

“Okay Ingrid, let’s get this over with” Leah shouted.

As if by magic, Ingrid was straight through the door again, throwing hands in the air telling you to have more respect for yourself, before banishing you from the living room and continuing to grill Leah.

“Hungry?” Mapi asked as you nodded and she pulled out her phone to order something. “I think I chose the right Engen to date, because you would never scream at me like that” she laughed.

“Are you afraid of my sister?” You giggled.

“Afraid? I am terrified of her” Mapi shook her head as she released a chuckle.

“Afraid of who?” Ingrid asked, walking through the kitchen door with a frowning Leah behind her.

“Nobody” Mapi shook her head.

“Idiot” you jeered quietly. “We are ordering food, do you want anything?” You asked your girlfriend and your sister.

“Actually, Leah is going to cook” Ingrid smirked, folding her arms.

“No” you shook your head. “Punish her, not all of us” you pleaded, watching a smirk take over Leah’s face now.

“I will plate up the take away?” Leah suggested as Ingrid scrunched up her face and squeezed your girlfriend’s cheeks out of frustration.

“Am I something to be desired now, Ingrid?” Leah smirked.

“I will take you up on the offer to punch you if you speak again” Ingrid told her as she instantly went quiet.

“What the hell did they talk about?” Mapi whispered.

“Just be glad we will never have this conversation” you chuckled tapping your order onto her phone.

Y/n instantly knew three things when she got to the garage. The black car parked over the road had not been there 5 minutes ago, the engine she was working on was not broken by accident, and whoever owned this garage had very high security but very little interest in making it obvious.

The garage itself was between a closed print shop and a narrow set of apartments. Nothing about the garage looked interesting, it had faded shutters, an iron side door and no sign above the entrance. It was the sort of building most people would walk past without a single glance, but y/n noticed it straight away.

The vehicle in front of her was a black SUV, which made no sense to have in such a deserted garage like this. It was armoured and way too clean. The car's bonnet was propped open, leaving its engine exposed, heat still mixing with the wet cold air. 

She was called here twenty-six minutes ago by a man who offered her no name, hardly any details, and way too much money up front. That was probably her first warning to leave, and she nearly took it. 

But then the car made a clicking noise, not random it was something that had been purposely tampered with. Y/n had learned to ignore a lot of things, like a garage with too many cameras, and a street that suddenly felt empty. But ignoring bad mechanical work? Absolutely not. So she stayed, and just like that, with a torch between her teeth, she was arms deep in the car's wiring.

After a while, y/n heard the soft sound of footsteps in puddles, but she didn't turn around straight away.

“Bit late for a walk”, she said around the torch.

No answer except another footstep, then another, definitely more than one person. Three, maybe four sets of footsteps. Y/n slowly pulled the torch from her mouth and set it on the engine bay as her pulse picked up. She hated that, not the fear itself, but how her body was starting to react without her thinking first. As she wiped her oily fingers on a cloth, she finally glanced over her shoulder.

A woman was standing just inside the garage entrance, and behind her were two men in dark clothing, both silent. Y/n glanced at them, then back to the woman.

“Let me guess”, Y/n said. “You're here about the warranty”.

The woman's eyebrows lifted slightly, not amusement but interest.

“You’re Y/n?” she said.

Y/n leaned against the SUV. “Depends who's asking”.

“Misa”.

“That's not an answer. That's just a name”.

“It's the only one you're getting”.

Y/n hummed, looking her over. “Drammatic. Do you practise that in the mirror, or is it just natural?”

One of the men shifted, however, Misa did not. That was probably the first thing Y/n respected about her, not liked but respected. There was a difference, and Y/n is very careful about differences.

Misa stepped fully into the garage. “You need to come with us”.

Y/n laughed once. “Yeah, No”.

Misa tilted her head slightly. “That wasn't a request”.

“Funny, as it sounded like one from over here”.

“It wasn't.” Misa sighed. “You saw something you shouldn't have seen”.

Y/n’s mind flicked through the past twenty minutes before remembering the van and the two men unloading sealed crates from the back. She had seen a delivery of some type, not enough to understand it, but enough to become a problem.

Y/n folded her arms. “Well, I see a lot of things. You see, I'm very observant. It's part of my charm”.

“You have no idea what you walked into”.

Y/N lifted both hands, palms outward. “Look, I don’t know what you think I saw, but I’m very willing to forget it. I forget things all the time. Birthdays. Appointments. People’s names when they bore me.”

Misa slowly approached. “That's not enough”.

“Worth a try”.

“Last chance. Walk”.

The side door was too far to make a run to, the men were too close, but maybe she could use a wrench to get past a guard. But then what, run without knowing how many more waited outside for her? That's just bad odds, and Y/n hated bad odds just as much as she hated being told what to do.

She sighed. “Can I at least ask where we’re going?”

“No”.

“Can I ask who wants me?”

“No”

Y/N dropped her hands. “Fine”.

Misa blinked at that, and so did the guards. As y/n bent down to pick up her tool bag, Misa stopped her.

“No”, Misa said.

Y/n froze with one hand wrapped around the strap. “That bag is worth more than anything I own”.

“You can get it later”.

Misa reached for the bag herself, opened it, quickly searched it, then removed the wrench and knife from beneath the rag without even looking remotely surprised, and handed the bag to one of the guards.

“Cute”, Misa said as she looked back at her. “You're so predictable”.

Y/N’s smile sharpened. “If you think that, then you’re not as clever as you look”.

For a second, the room went silent, then Misa stepped aside and gestured toward the car door.

“Walk”.

Y/n walked, not because she was obeying, but because she had decided it was the smart thing to do to gather some information. Misa walked beside her, not behind.

Y/n glanced at the car waiting for them. “Is this the part where you shove me in the boot?”

Misa sighed as she opened the rear door. “No, get in”.

Her hand landed between Y/n’s shoulder blades, not hard but guiding. 

Y/n instantly twisted away. “Don’t”.

Misa’s eyes narrowed.

Y/n’s voice stayed light, but beneath it something sharpened. “I said don’t push me”.

For a second, no one moved. Misa said nothing before removing her hand as Y/n climbed into the back seat on her own, then Misa got in beside her. Of course, she did.

As the car slid through the city, Y/n's thoughts moved fast. Who were they? Was the delivery connected to the SUV? Was this a cleanup or an interrogation? Would they kill her if she lied? Would they kill her if she told the truth? Could she talk her way out? Could she annoy them enough to make someone careless? The last option was her favourite, definitely not the safest, but the most fun.

Misa’s phone buzzed once, and as she checked it, Y/n angled her head slightly, only for Misa to turn the screen away before she could read it.

“Bit paranoid”, Y/N said.

As the car turned underground, Y/n’s stomach tightened, but she kept her face neutral. The car came to a stop by a lift, and Misa got out first, then opened the door from the outside. Y/N stepped out, looked around, and counted six cameras before anyone spoke.

“Wow,” she said. “Someone has trust issues.”

Misa came around the car. “Someone has survived because of them”.

Y/N glanced at her. “That sounded personal”.

“It was practical”.

“Everything with you people is practical”.

“With us people?”

“Kidnappers. Secret garage enthusiasts. Men who wear black indoors”.

When the lift doors opened, Misa gestured for her to enter. Y/n looked at the lift, then at Misa, then at the lift again before making a decision.

“No”.

Misa sighed. “Y/n”.

“Oh, first name basis. We’re moving fast”.

“Get in the lift”.

“Not until you tell me where it goes”.

“Up”.

Y/n just stared at Misa as the silence stretched, she hated that the answer amused her. So she stepped inside, as Misa and one guard followed. 

The lift was mirrored, and for the first time that night, Y/n saw herself clearly. Wet hair, grease on her jaw, jacket soaked and eyes too bright. She looked like trouble. Next to her stood Misa, posture loose but ready, hands folded in front of her. 

Y/n watched her reflection.”So who am I meeting?”

Misa offered nothing.

“Boss? Client?”

Nothing.

“Ex with a grudge?”

Still nothing.

Y/n just clicked her tongue. “Tough crowd”.

When the doors opened, they stepped out into a hallway that smelled of expensive wood and leather. The lighting was low, warm, and controlled. Ahead of them, two guards stood near a dark door at the end of the hall, and as Misa approached, they moved. Y/n filed that away, it was clear there was a hierarchy here.

Misa stopped before the door and looked at Y/N. “Listen carefully, you're about to meet someone who has much less patience for your mouth than I do”.

Y/n smirked. “So you admit you do have patience for my mouth”.

Misa’s eyes narrowed, causing Y/n’s smirk to grow wider. They kept each other's gaze for a second longer before Misa opened the door.

As Y/n walked in, she noticed that the room was large, high above the city, and very private. There were tall glass windows overlooking Barcelona and a long, dark table, almost completely bare except for a single phone and a glass of water. Next, she saw the guards, there were two near the windows and two more by a second door. Lastly, she saw the woman, Alexia, standing near the windows, watching the city below her. She had a dark suit on, her hair pulled back, and Y/n can't help herself when her eyes wander. 

Alexia slowly turned around then, forcing Y/ns attention to snap back. Alexia's face was calm and blank in a way that showed she was hiding nothing. Y/n guessed that most people found that terrifying, but to Y/n, it was just plain irritating. Alexia’s gaze moved over her once, but in no way that felt casual. Was it assessment?

“You were at my garage”, Alexia said, her voice controlled, low and way too smooth.

“Was I? I didn’t see a sign”.

Misa closed her eyes briefly behind her as Y/n feels deeply pleased with herself, but Alexia doesn't react, not even a blink. The air in the room seemed to tighten as Alexia walked towards the table, picked up the glass, and placed it closer to the chair opposite her.

“Sit”, Alexia said.

Y/n glanced at the chair and then Alexia. “No, thanks”.

Alexia looked at Y/n for a long moment, then pulled out her own chair and sat. Smooth and completely unbothered, as if Y/n refusing had been expected. That felt way worse than being ordered again.

Alexia simply folded one leg over the other. “Stand then”.

Y/n narrowed her eyes. If she had one word to describe Alexia so far, it would be annoying. Very annoying. Y/n huffed before sitting, not because Alexia had won, but because her legs were tired, obviously. Alexia's eyes slightly flickered, but Y/n saw it anyway.

“You look pleased with yourself”, Y/n said.

“I often am”.

Y/n leaned back off guard. “At least you're honest”.

“Only when it's useful”.

“Charming”.

“I do try to be,” Alexia replied quickly, a small smirk forming.

Y/n just swallows heavily, regaining her composure.

Alexia’s attention sharpened slightly, not in anger but in interest. She rested one hand on the table. “Do you know who I am?”

Y/n debated lying but decided it was pointless. “I have a theory”.

“Tell me”.

“You’re either the most intense club owner in Barcelona, or I've been dragged into something deeply illegal”.

Alexia's mouth didn't react, but her eyes did, a tiny hidden amusement. Y/n caught it and felt a ridiculous spark of triumph.

Alexia's face changed as she glanced at Misa. “Dragged?”

Misa’s expression didn't change. “She walked”.

Y/n scoffed, mumbling under her breath. “Under threat”.

Alexia hears it, of course, she does, she misses nothing. She didn't just look at people, she collected every movement, hesitation, and facial expression. That was one of the first things Y/n understood properly, and she felt a dangerous little thrill. Not fear but recognition, she did the same thing, only with less kidnapping.

Alexia returned her gaze to Y/n. “What did you see tonight?”

Y/n smiled. “Rain”.

Misa sighed, looking over at Alexia, who said nothing.

Y/n continued. “A garage with a car being mistreated, there were two men unloading crates from a van. I think one of them had a limp, but it was hard to tell as he was trying to hide it. The driver was nervous, and there was a smaller man who kept checking the alley but missed the camera on the print shop wall, which was honestly embarrassing”. 

The room changed instantly, Misa went very still, and so did the guards, and Y/n realised she rambled. Alexia didn't react, but her gaze became focused. Y/n has given her something real, not all the details but enough for now.

“You noticed the camera”, Alexia said.

“Hard not to”.

Alexia leaned back slightly. “You're a mechanic?”

“Usually”.

“What else are you?”

“Tierd”.

“Y/n.”

The way Alexia said her name was not loud, but it still landed hard. And Y/n realised that she might have just pushed Alexia to the edge of getting fed up with her attitude, and while Y/n was still only a problem that hadn't been solved, she didn't want to risk pushing Alexia over the edge. So Y/n let her smile fade, only slightly, as she would rather die than look too obedient.

“I fix things”, Y/n said. “Cars and motorbikes mostly, but I'll fix whatever people bring me when they can't afford someone official or don't want paperwork”.

Alexia watched her. “And you ask no questions”.

“I ask lots of questions. Just not stupid ones”.

“Such as?”

“Why a garage with no sign has better security than a bank, or why someone wants a tracker placed on a vehicle”

Misa shifted slightly.

Alexia's expression remained calm. “Yet you came”.

“I was paid”.

“You could've walked away”.

“The engine annoyed me”.

For the first time, Alexia looked openly intrigued, and Y/n found herself wanting to keep earning that look.

“What was wrong with it?”

“The engine?”

“Yes”.

Y/n found leaned forwards, elbows on the table. “Someone had bypassed the immobiliser badly. The kind of badly that comes from someone who understands what to do but has never done it before”.

Misa’s eyes narrowed. “Could it stop the car?”

“Temporally. But that wasn't the interesting bit”.

Alexia’s gaze stayed locked on Y/n.

Y/n’s smile widened. “There was a second relay added near the fuse box. Not standard and not needed. Whoever put it there wanted remote interruption”.

Misa looked towards Aleixa. But Alexia didn't look away from Y/n. “A kill switch”.

“Basically”.

“Can you remove it?”

“That's what I was attempting to do when your welcoming committee arrived”.

“You knew it wasn't normal”.

“I knew the whole place wasn't normal”.

“And yet you stayed”.

“I told you. The engine annoyed me”.

“No”, Alexia said.

Y/n stilled as Alexia leaned forward.

“You stayed because you wanted to know who would go through the trouble of hiding it” Her voice was calm and certain. “You stayed because the risk bothered you less than the question”.

Y/n’s jaw tightened.

“You’re curious”, Alexia continued. “Proud, reckless when challenged, and you hide fear behind sarcasm”.

Y/n’s voice cooled. “Careful”.

Misa’s attention snapped to her as the guards shifted. Y/n realised too late that warning Alexia Putellas in her own building probably wasn't the smartest of moves. So she picked up the glass of water she had no interest in drinking earlier and took a sip, ignoring Alexia's knowing gaze.

Y/n placed the glass down harder than necessary. “So what now?”

“You have options”

Y/n laughed, though it lacked humour. “That's comforting”.

“It wasn't meant to be”.

“Again, charming”.

Alexia folded her hands neatly on the table. “You saw men connected to my operation. You saw a vehicle that had been tampered with. You noticed security details most people would miss. You can identify at least one route, one garage, and one delivery”.

“Actually, I can identify two routes”.

Misa closed her eyes again.

Alexia tilted her head. “Can you?”

Y/N smiled. “You should tell your driver not to brake before a turn. Gives the rhythm away”.

For a second, nobody spoke, then Alexia looked toward Misa, who looked deeply unhappy.

Y/N tapped one finger against the table. “So, what? You keep me here until you decide I’m not a threat?”

Alexia’s eyes returned to hers. “Yes”.

Y/N blinked. “That was not supposed to be the answer”.

“I prefer clarity”.

“No, you prefer control”.

“Yes”.

Again, no denial and Y/n hated how effective that was.

As Alexia stood, the guards straightened subtly. Misa didn't need to, she was always ready. Y/n forced herself not to react as Alexia walked around the table toward her. Every step was unhurried. Measured. Not predatory in the obvious way. Worse. She stopped beside Y/n’s chair, forcing Y/n to look up at her. 

“You are not Llorenc”.

Y/n frowned. “Who?”

Alexia watched her reaction carefully and once she decided that the confusion was real she moved on.

“You're not harmless either”, Alexia said.

Y/n smiled again. “That one's true”.

“Good”.

That surprised Y/n, her smile faltering as Alexia noticed immediately.

“You expected me to want harmless”, she said.

“Most powerful people do”.

“Most powerful people are insecure”.

“And you're not?”

Alexia’s gaze cooled. There were lines, then, and Y/n had found one. Not insecurity but something adjacent, power. Y/n knew she should have backed off, yet she did not.

Alexia bent slightly, placing one hand on the back of Y/n’s chair, the other gripping Y/n’s jaw. She didn't trap her fully, just made the space feel smaller by choice.

“I am paranoid,” Alexia said quietly. “I am controlling. I am difficult to lie to, worse to betray, and very rarely merciful without reason.” Her eyes held Y/n’s. “But I am not insecure.”

Y/n’s throat felt dry as Alexia looked at her for another long moment before letting go and straightening. The air returned to the room, and Y/n breathed like she had chosen to, not like she needed it.

Alexia walked back to her side of the table. “You will stay here tonight”.

Y/n sat up. “No, I won’t”.

“Yes, you will”.

“I have a flat”.

“I know”.

Y/N froze while Alexia sat again, calm as ever.

“You checked me”, Y/n said.

“Yes”.

“How much?”

“Enough”.

“That’s not an answer”.

“It is the only one you need”.

Y/n’s eyes narrowed. “You people really love that line”.

“It is a good line”, said Misa.

Y/n pointed back at her again. “No one asked you”. Y/n then looked at Alexia. “Are all your employees this rude?”

Alexia replied smoothly, “Only the ones I like”.

Misa’s face shifted not by much but enough. Y/n saw it, loyalty again. Not obedience, not fear, but something older and more complicated. For the first time, Y/n wondered what Alexia had done to earn that from someone like Misa. Then she immediately decided she did not want to know.

Alexia continued. “Your flat is being watched”.

Y/n’s humour vanished, and Alexia noticed it.

“No one will enter it”, Alexia said. “No one will touch your things. No one will approach anyone connected to you unless you give me a reason”.

Y/n’s voice went quiet. “Is that meant to make me feel better?”

“It is meant to be clear”.

“You threaten people very politely”.

“I do most things precisely”.

Y/n leaned forward. “Listen to me very precisely, then. Whatever this is, whatever you think I know, I am not part of it. I don’t care about your crates, your garage, your scary lift, or your dramatic staring contests. I fixed a car. That’s it”.

Alexia watched her.

Y/n continued, sharper now. “So you can either let me go, or you can keep pretending this is strategy when it’s really just a bunch of powerful people panicking because one mechanic noticed an idiot wired their expensive car”.

Silence. It was heavy and dangerous.

Misa’s voice came low from behind her. “Careful”.

Y/n did not look away from Alexia. “I am being careful”.

Alexia’s eyes held hers.

Then Alexia spoke.“You will fix the car”.

Y/n exhaled.

“And you will stay until I know who put the device there”.

Y/n’s eyes snapped up. Alexia’s mouth curved again, very faintly, and Y/n caught it, feeling that same ridiculous spark. She really needed to stop herself from liking the woman's smile.

Alexia stood once more. “Misa will show you where you are staying”.

Y/n stood too. “Am I allowed to leave the room?”

“No”.

“Window?”

“No”.

“Phone call?”

“No”.

“Snacks?”

Alexia looked at Misa, who looked deeply tired as Y/n smiled sweetly at her.

“Feed her”, Alexia said.

Y/n stared at her, then, despite everything, she laughed under her breath.

“Control freak”, she said.

Alexia’s gaze stayed steady.

“Bratty mechanic”, she replied.

Y/n’s smile widened and then lingered as Misa guided her into the hallway, and the door closed behind them. Then, as Misa started walking, Y/n followed. The hallway felt different now. Less like the path to an execution, more like the inside of a machine she had not yet learned how to dismantle.

Misa stepped into the room. The door remained open behind her.

“You want advice?” she asked.

“No”.

“Good. I’ll give it anyway”.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Classic”.

“Alexia does not bluff.”

Y/n’s smile thinned.

Misa continued, “If she says your flat will not be touched, it will not be touched. If she says you will stay, you will stay. If she says she will protect what is hers, she will. If she decides you are a threat, there will not be a warning first”.

Y/n’s fingers tightened around the edge of the mattress. 

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Y/n asked.

“It is supposed to inform you”, Misa said as she turned toward the door. “Eat. Sleep. Do not try the window”.

“So I should try the vents?”

Misa looked over her shoulder. “There are no vents big enough”.

“Rude. You don’t know my flexibility”.

“I know the building plans”.

“Control freaks, all of you”.

Misa opened the door wider. “Goodnight, Y/n”.

Y/n threw a grape at her, and of course, Misa caught it. She looked at the grape in her hand, then at Y/n, who slowly sat back, impressed despite herself as Misa popped the grape into her mouth, expression completely flat.

“Sleep”, she said.

With that, she left, and then the door locked behind her.

Notes: I know I'm not the best at dialogue, so apologies for that. You might notice the absence of the rest of Alexia's inner circle, aside from Misa. That is because it wasn't Alexia's original plan to keep Y/n alive, it was meant to be a quick job, but Alexia became interested in her. I promise they all return in part 3, and we will see more of them and their jobs in the organisation! Thank you for reading, and as usual, please share with me what you thought!

You, Kika, Esmee, Claudia and Clara had somehow developed a reputation within weeks. Whenever something suspicious happened around the training ground, whether it was hidden speakers playing farm animal noises during recovery sessions or someone finding googly eyes stuck onto all the protein shakes in the fridge, the older players automatically blamed the five of you. Most of the time they were correct.

Unfortunately for you, being the youngest also meant everyone felt responsible for your education. Alexia, Irene and Marta had collectively decided that your schoolwork was now somehow part of their captain duties, something you found deeply unfair.

That was exactly how you ended up trapped in the lounge room after lunch while the others prepared to play FIFA before the afternoon session.

“Come on, hurry up!” Esmee shouted from the couch while waving a controller at you.

You instantly stood from the table, ready to join them, only for Irene’s hand to catch the hood of your sweatshirt before you could take more than two steps.

“Nope,” she said calmly.

You turned around with your best innocent expression. “What?”

“Homework.”

“I can do it later.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“I’ll definitely do it tonight.”

“You also said that yesterday.”

You tried everything after that. Smiling, dramatic sighing, shameless puppy eyes. None of it worked. Irene merely crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow at you in a way that reminded you frighteningly of an actual mother.

“I want to see finished homework before the end of the day.”

It was such a parental sentence that you almost groaned out loud. Sometimes it genuinely felt like Irene spent more time parenting you than your own mother did.

Defeated, you dragged yourself to the long table in the lounge area while your teammates celebrated your downfall behind you. The sound of laughter and video game commentary echoed only a few meters away while you miserably unpacked your books and worksheets. After only 15 minutes your motivation had completely disappeared. You stared blankly at your geography assignment, wondering why anyone needed to memorize capitals or climate systems when phones already existed. Football made sense to you. Pranks made sense to you. Geography absolutely did not.

You were halfway through dramatically dropping your forehead against the table when Aitana sat down across from you with her laptop, clearly intending to work on something herself. Immediately you saw an opportunity.

“Aitana,” you said sweetly after a few minutes.

“Hm?”

“What causes monsoon seasons again?”

Without even looking up from her laptop she answered your question automatically. A few minutes later you asked another one, then another one after that. She kept replying absentmindedly while typing, and for a moment you genuinely thought your plan was working perfectly. Then, after your fifth question in ten minutes, Aitana finally looked up and grinned at you knowingly.

“You do realize I know exactly what you’re doing, right?”

You blinked at her innocently. “Studying?”

“You’re making me do your geography assignment for you.”

“That sounds very dramatic.”

Aitana laughed softly and shook her head. “Finish it yourself before Alexia notices.”

That immediately made you stop because if Alexia noticed, your day would somehow become significantly worse.

Almost an hour later you had finally completed everything except mathematics. Unfortunately, math happened to be your best subject. It came so easily to you that it barely required effort, which only made it more boring. After staring at the equations for several minutes, your attention drifted toward Mapi and Cata, who were standing nearby watching the others play FIFA.

A brilliant idea immediately formed in your mind.

You sighed loudly enough to attract attention and, exactly as planned, Mapi glanced over first.

“What’s wrong with you now?” she asked.

“It’s math,” you complained dramatically. “I don’t understand any of this.”

Cata laughed immediately and walked closer to look at the worksheet. “Seriously? You’re suffering over school math?”

“It’s complicated,” you said with another miserable sigh.

Mapi leaned down to study the page, already looking skeptical. “This? It can’t be that difficult.”

You shrugged innocently. “For the both of you for sure.”

Both women looked offended instantly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mapi demanded.

“Nothing,” you replied quickly. “It’s probably just too advanced.”

That was all it took. Within seconds both of them had pulled up chairs beside you and stolen the worksheet, determined to prove that they were fully capable of solving “simple school math.” You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing as they became increasingly invested in equations you could have solved in less than five minutes. Their expressions slowly shifted from confidence to confusion while you sat beside them offering deeply unhelpful comments.

“Shouldn’t you simplify that first?” you asked casually.

“We KNOW,” Mapi snapped while erasing something aggressively.

After another few minutes you quietly stood from the table while both remained completely distracted by the assignment. Neither even noticed you leaving. A moment later you dropped onto the couch beside Esmee, grabbed a controller and joined the FIFA match like nothing had happened.

Fifteen glorious minutes later you scored a winning goal and jumped up yelling in triumph, only for the entire room to suddenly fall silent around you. Someone had cleared their throat behind you and you already knew exactly who it was before you even turned around.

Alexia stood there with Irene and Marta beside her, all three wearing expressions that immediately made you regret most of your life choices today.

Without saying a word, Alexia slowly looked past you toward the table where Mapi and Cata were still hunched over your math homework looking deeply stressed.

“What exactly are you two doing?” Alexia asked calmly.

Mapi looked up. “Helping Y/N with her homework.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow and pointed toward you holding the controller. “Interesting. Especially considering she’s over here playing FIFA while you do it.”

Realization hit both of them at the same time. Before either could react, Alexia stepped closer and looked down at the worksheet herself. Her eye twitched slightly.

“It’s even more interesting,” she continued, “because everyone in this building knows math is literally her best subject.”

The room exploded with laughter while Mapi and Cata looked absolutely betrayed. Alexia lightly smacked both on the backs of their heads.

“You really let a sixteen year old trick you into doing her homework.”

You laughed harder than anyone else, which immediately earned you your own smack from Irene.

“Ow!”

“Deserved,” Irene replied without sympathy.

Alexia then pointed toward the hallway. “You. Come with me.”

The moment you realized where she was taking you, your shoulders slumped dramatically. Inside the training facility there was one tiny room containing only a table and two chairs, and over the last few weeks it had unofficially become your personal timeout room whenever your behavior crossed the line.

Alexia sat down across from you and folded her arms while you reluctantly reopened your notebook.

“You are now going to finish your homework properly,” she said. “And I’m going to sit here and make sure you actually do it.”

For the next thirty minutes you finished the assignment under Alexia’s direct supervision while she watched you with terrifying concentration. Every time your attention drifted toward the door, she noticed immediately. By the time you finally finished, you were convinced she had some kind of supernatural captain powers.

“There,” you muttered while pushing the notebook toward her. “Done.”

Alexia checked the work carefully before nodding once. Relief immediately flooded through you and you stood up, fully prepared to finally go enjoy the rest of your break.

Unfortunately, Alexia spoke again before you could escape.

“Now comes the punishment.”

Your head dropped back dramatically. “Please no.”

“Running laps.”

You let out the most exhausted sigh imaginable, though deep down you already knew you had deserved it. Even while jogging miserable laps outside twenty minutes later with your teammates laughing at you from the windows, you still couldn’t fully regret it.

Although Andie Russell had been living and playing football in Barcelona for the past 7 years, she was still amazed at the technicality and footwork of her current teammates. Yes, Andie is the captain of the England squad and a great centre back, but sometimes during a quick game of rondos with the Barca girls, she gets quickly humbled.

This particular session appeared that the youngsters were all purposefully trying to humiliate their broody English teammate. Claudia Pina had literally giggled when she sent Andie the complete wrong way with a quick shoulder drop; Vicky Lopez had almost caused Andie to slip over with the change of direction of her touch, and Clara Serrajordi had almost nutmegged Andie. Almost. The youngsters were giggling as Andie ran round like a headless chicken, attempting to get the ball. She had obviously given up at some point, now just jogging after the ball to entertain the others.

Mapi, Alexia, and Cata all strolled over to the circle; they’d been watching from afar. “Ei, vinga, Andie, posa-hi una mica de feina!” Mapi shouted dramatically as the trio walked over. (oi, come on, andie, put some work in!) Andie simply threw her best friend a glare, as she jogged after the ball.

“Diexeu-la en pau, la nostra pobra anglesa està cansada.” Patri joined in, in a teasing tone, putting an arm around Andie, attempting to put her into a head lock. (leave her alone, our poor english girl is tired.)

“I’m not tired.” Andie mumbled, using her strength to push Patri away. Andie could understand Catalan partially, but speaking it was a different ball park.

“Cansat i tossut, Russell.” Irene grumbled, raising her eyebrows at Andie from the sidelines. (tired and stubborn, russell.)

Andie simply rolled her eyes, closing down Alexia who now had the ball, but before she knew it, Alexia skilfully passed the ball between Andie’s legs, nutmegging her clean. The whole team erupted: laughing, cheering, clapping. The media team had been filming the last part of the rondo and caught it on camera. Andie hid her face in embarrassment. Alexia pouted, a small smirk playing on her lips as she walked over to Andie in the middle of the circle. Alexia placed an arm around Andie, pulling her into her side.

“Ho sento, Andie, ha estat un accident.” Alexia said, smiling playfully. (i’m sorry, andie, it was an accident.)

Andie was silent for a second, before looking up and grumbling, “Todas ustedes son matones.” (you’re all bullies.) She pouted, attempting to walk away, but Alexia kept a strong arm around her shoulders.

“Molt bé noies, això és tot per avui. Ben fet.” Pere shouted over, packing away the last of the footballs. (alright girls, that’s it for today. well done.)

The team slowly made their way back into the team changing rooms, chatting amongst themselves. Mapi had jogged over to where Andie and Alexia were slowly walking, showing her presence by giving Andie a little nudge.

Andie rolled her eyes playfully, “Not you again.” She sighed, smirking.

“So rude!” Mapi exclaimed, her accent pronounced through the use of English words. “I just come to ask you question.” She shrugs, innocently, but with a mischievous look in her eyes.

Andie sighs, looking at Mapi. “I don’t like the sound of that.” She grumbles, Alexia smiling softly next to her.

“Aye, Andie, why you so nervous? Is all good news, I promise.” Mapi says dramatically, placing her hand on her heart.

“Go on.” Andie replies.

“I have un amiga who I think you like very much.” She nods, putting a hand on Andie’s back. “She very… how you say? Sexy.”

“Mapi…” Andie warns, not liking the direction the conversation is heading.

“Shh. Shh.” Mapi puts her finger to Andie’s lips— Alexia giggles. “You trust me, no?” Mapi asks.

“Depends.” Andie answers. Mapi raises her eyebrows. “Yes.” Andie re-answers.

“I pick well. I know she your type. Very pretty.” Mapi continues. “She see you… she say she will go for dinner.” Mapi reveals.

Andie stops in her tracks. “Have you agreed to this on my behalf?”

Mapi hesitates. “No?” She says. She definitely has.

“No. Mapi. No.” Andie says, shaking her head. “I told you, I’m not looking for anything right now.” She says softly, but seriously.

Mapi huffs before mumbling, “Però necesitas acostarte con alguien, estás demasiado estresado estos días.” Her Spanish was too quick for Andie to understand, but Alexia caught every word of it. (you need to get laid though, you’re too stressed these days.)

“What?” Andie asks. “That was too quick.”

“Nothing nothing. Do not worry.” Mapi shakes her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Just think about it, si?”

“Yeah, sure.” Andie nods sarcastically, as Mapi gives up and jogs along after Kika to annoy her.

There’s a moment of silence before Alexia speaks up. “You no want to date?” She asks, a slight crease between her eyebrows.

Andie pauses. “I’m not really that bothered right now.” She shrugs. “Malas experiencias en el pasado.” She explains in Spanish, knowing Alexia understands it more. (bad experiences in the past.)

Alexia nods gently, understanding. “No dejes que una mala experiencia te impida vivir las buenas.” She advises, captain mode on full force. (don’t let a bad experience stop you from experiencing the good ones.)

Andie nods thoughtfully, the pair now arriving at the entrance to the changing rooms. Alexia gives Andie a soft pat on the leg as each of them go their separate ways to get unready from training.

Andie is left deep in thought after Alexia’s words— she values Alexia’s opinion. Not only is Alexia her captain, but one of her closest friends. They’d played alongside each other for 7 years now, and had developed that kind of bond where you understood each other without exchanging words; on the pitch and off.

At first, when Andie had arrived to Barcelona with a maximum of three spanish phrases learnt and an exhaustion that weighed down her every movement from her previous club, the pair had found it difficult to connect due to the language barrier. But, slowly but surely, they almost created their own language on the pitch. They somehow knew where the other one was without looking. So, with Andie learning Spanish from lessons provided by the club, they began understanding each other more little by little.

After about a year, they’d realised just how similar they were. They were comfortable with each other by this point. No more awkwardness or small talk. Andie began giving Alexia English lessons, and Alexia did the same for Andie, but with Spanish.

Eventually, they habitualised their own little routine. Andie would be the last one down for breakfast, as she’s not a morning person whatsoever, whereas Alexia would be the first one up. Andie would mumble a sentence in English that no one understood, so Alexia would teach her it in Spanish. Andie was the more loud, (slightly) aggressive, and intimidating one on the pitch, whereas Alexia took a more calm, collected, and silently commanding role; etc. They fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle. Two captains. Two leaders. Two people who understood each other on a different level.

They’d been there for each other through the ups and downs. Alexia’s ACL. Andie’s ex-relationship that was borderline abusive. Alexia’s loss in the Euros. Andie’s success in the Euro’s. The variety of emotions the pair had been through together only made them stronger. Deep down, both of them had a slight inkling that there was something slightly more than friendship blossoming, but both were too stubborn to even think about it. Too afraid to ruin 7 years of hard earned friendship. So, they remained as they were. No exploring. No suggestions. Pure comfort zone.

———————————————————————————————

Andie had arrived at her apartment at around 7:30pm, and she was absolutely knackered from the long day of training. Andie loves her own company: always has, always will; but sometimes her apartment seemed a little lonesome. She’d considered adopting a puppy, but realised she’d never have the time to look after it properly with her schedule for football.

By the time she had showered, cooked, ate, and washed up, it was pretty late in the evening. She’d only just sat down on her sofa when her phone started ringing. Beth Mead.

MEADO: FACETIME INCOMING 📞📞

Andie huffed softly before swiping to answer.

“Russell!” Beth’s loud voice exclaimed, travelling through Andie’s phone.

“Alright, Meado.” Andie greeted, a tight-lipped smile on her face, causing her dimples to pop.

“Don’t look so excited to see me.” Beth said sassily.

“Sorry. Tired.” Andie apologised, cuddling up on the sofa.

“You’re always tired.” Beth sighed, shaking her head like a disappointed mother.

“I’m aware.” Andie yawned mid sentence. “Did you call for any purpose or just to bother me?” She rasped, tiredness laced in her voice.

“Gosh! Can a mother not check in on her child?” Beth gasped theatrically, and Andie heard Viv’s laughter from off-screen.

“Mate, you’re literally three years older than me.” Andie scoffs, laughing gently.

“You’re still my little baby. Even if you did leave Arsenal.” Beth glares through the screen.

“That was 7 years ago, Bethany. You need to move on.” Andie says, playing along.

Beth laughs, throwing her head back. “You doing good over there?” She asks, serious now.

Andie nods. “Just the usual.”

“That a good thing?” Beth asks, raising her eyebrows.

“‘Course it is. I love it here.” Andie replies genuinely. “We’ve got a game in a few days so prepping for that. I think Ale’s coming over for dinner tomorrow.” She says nonchalantly, listing off upcoming events of the week.

“Putellas, hm?” Beth smirks slightly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Andie asks, a look of genuine disgust on her face.

“Nothing, nothing. Just interesting.” Beth mumbles. “Just the two of you?”

Andie nodded, “It’s become a bit of a thing.”

“A thing?” Beth raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah. One of us goes round to the others at least once a week and we cook dinner together. It’s quite therapeutic, actually. And, she’s a very good cook.” Andie rambles.

“That’s cute.” Beth grins. “Bit of team bonding, huh, Russell?” She smirks. Andie furrows her eyebrows. “Do you have weekly dinner dates with anyone else in the team?” She asks, her voice unusually high.

“No. I don’t have time for multiple weekly dinner dates.” Andie replied, like it was obvious.

“Oh, of course. Just got time for the one teammate.” Beth nods dramatically.

“Well, Alexia and I are good friends.” Andie states.

“Very good friends.” Beth agrees.

“I’ll end this call if you keep being weird.” Andie warns.

“I need to go anyways. Viv is stressing about something. I’m not sure what.” Beth grumbles.

Andie chuckles. “Give my love to Viv.”

“Will do. Enjoy your date with Putellas.” Beth teases, hanging up before Andie could scold her.

Andie sighed, shaking her head. Friends could have dinner together— that wasn’t a weird thing at all. Her phone pinged. A text.

ALE: what you want for dinner tomorrow?

Andie threw her phone across the sofa. She needed her brain to stop overanalysing things. She decided to call it a night, heading to bed for some much needed sleep.