Paige wakes up to Caitlin drawing circles on her back, spelling out something with her fingers, or drawing up a basketball play. She doesn’t move, but Caitlin must know she’s awake somehow, because she stops. Paige lets out a little sigh, more a breath than anything. She’d been hoping… she doesn’t know what she was hoping for.
“Good morning,” Caitlin whispers.
Paige opens her eyes to a soft, hazy darkness; it’s not really morning yet. The hotel room clock reads 6:03. They are in the liminal space between worlds that slots itself between night and day—a timezone that only exists in winter, a timezone Paige would like to pretend holds them and only them. No UConn Huskies. No Geno Auriemma. No national championship.
Just Paige and Caitlin. Two girls in a bed. Waiting for sunrise.
Paige says, “Good morning,” too, and just the act of speaking makes the dream less real somehow.
“Did you sleep well?”
“I guess.”
“I slept good.”
“I’m happy for you.” Paige pauses. Her body aches where Caitlin touches it. “I have to leave soon.”
A second passes. Two. Three.
“When?”
“I don’t know. Just… soon.” The plane back to Connecticut will be long. Paige kind of wants to miss the flight—to take a train up North instead and just wallow for a while.
Caitlin will be in Tampa for the finals. Maybe Paige should stay a little longer, and watch the game. Maybe she should jump off the hotel roof, too, while she’s out looking for ways to kill herself.
She feels lean arms wrap around her torso, slithering between the sheets and Paige’s body. She tenses in preparation for what Caitlin might say.
“Do you want me?” Caitlin mumbles it in a small voice, in tiny, lowercase words. Paige feels them hum through the air the way animals feel small tremors in the ground, and know something is moving underneath.
“You know I do.”
Caitlin’s forehead touches her back. She says against Paige’s skin: “Do you love me?”
Paige’s eyes blink open. She’s met with the light from the window, the blue of the morning. She’s always surprised by how fast the sun rises; the brief seconds of hazy gray-yellow before a sudden and shocking azure eats up the sky.
It takes effort to say, “No.” The word burns in her mouth. It’s no lie; Paige doesn’t know why she feels so guilty saying it.
Caitlin is silent. Paige feels her mouth moving, though, forming silent letters. As if Paige’s flesh is the earth.
Paige asks, once she’s realized it’s her turn asking unreasonable questions, “Are you sorry?”
Caitlin clutches on tighter. “No,” she echoes. Equally honest, short. It’s such a simple word. It sends earthquakes through Paige’s body.
“Good.”
There’s a brief pause. Paige knows Caitlin is thinking of what to ask, searching for the magic words that will keep Paige in her bed for a few more minutes. There is something satiating in being wanted so badly. Paige feels almost vindicated; she can’t beat Caitlin on court, but she can take her to bed and make her beg to come. In Caitlin’s bedroom, if no where else, Paige is a champion.
“Are you angry?” Caitlin asks, finally.
It’s a strange question. Paige isn’t entirely sure she has an answer. There is a stinging feeling that eats at her stomach when she thinks of the ball hitting her back—one that aches and burns and rots. Acidic. Is that anger?
“I think so,” she answers slowly. “Would you be?”
Caitlin pauses again. “I don’t know,” she says, arms still wrapped around Paige’s torso, forehead still leaned into Paige’s flesh. “I haven’t lived it yet.”
A fire licks at Paige’s belly. She is struck with the sudden urge to wrap her hands around the column of Caitlin’s neck—watch as the air gets stuck in her pale throat, her arousal and fear hitting a baseline desperation that turns Paige on about as much as it revolts her.
Violence itches at her fingertips. She curls her nails into her palm, the keratin biting into the calloused flesh—wishes it would bleed.
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I’ve seen tiktok edits of P and CC saying they’re the enemies to lovers trope and I’m like well…😭 I’m not one to judge what people do online so..but we do know they’re in relationships not with each other right? 😂
... what? they weren't even enemies to begin with 😭😭 paige literally called her "my midwest backcourt" or whatever for her birthday one year
*how it went after that caitlin and paige hug (REAL, NO CLICKBAIT*
caitlin walks into the locker room, her heart pounding. it's pounding so hard she nearly doesn't hear nalyssa telling her to watch out for the bag near her cubby.
"oh shit, my bad," she says, moving just in time that she doesn't trip over it. there are too many thoughts and emotions going through her mind for her to speak to her teammates while they're getting ready to leave. caitlin takes her time; grabbing some simple clothes before heading to the shower. she almost doesn't want to hit the shower. not wanting to wash away the feeling of paige's warmth. the same warmth that azzi probably provides the blonde. the fact caitlin has been in the same arms as azzi makes her nearly blush. it's technically not an connection, but it's enough for her.
if this is how close she will ever get to azzi fudd then she'll take it.
the brunette showers quickly, wanting to make it home quick. some of her teammates tease her about moving so fast to leave. making little comments about how she's probably rushing back to her apartment to see connor; if only they knew that's the farthest from the truth. being so caught up in the feeling of seeing paige and having her actually notice her has made caitlin forget that connor is back at home waiting for her. of course, he didn't come to the game. not considering it important enough to attend and caitlin is sorta glad about the fact because she didn't want to deal with connor's whining about that hug with paige.
the older man always felt that she cared more about paige and azzi than their relationship, which might be true, but that doesn't mean she'll confirm it. this is her secret. everything else in her life is publicized, can't she keep this one thing to herself?
her thoughts hang heavy in her mind, making the transition from the arena to her car to her apartment so much easiest. caitlin was basically on autopilot mode for the entire time until she opened her front door.
she lets out a sigh of relief at seeing that connor isn't even at home. probably out with his boys somewhere that she don't care to check about, as long as he isn't using her money he doesn't care. caitlin rushes straight to her bed and lays there, remembering the moment over and over as it replays in her mind.
*PAIGE'S POV*
the moment the blonde pulls away from the wnba player, her mind goes straight to azzi. when she gets the chance to get some alone time after talking to a few people, she calls azzi right away.
"the game was so good," paige says, smiling because it's azzi on the phone.
"i know.. you told me every single detail.." azzi gives her a blank look before giggling because oh my god paige is on the phone.
#paitlin #paige x caitlin (unrequited) #caitlin x azzi (will never happen) #paige x azzi (requited) #TW:connor #lesbian #bicurious
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that hug looked so awkward caitlin’s face says it all im not going to complain if it slows down fan wars and hate
i mean it would’ve looked really sus if p was that close to caitlin, someone she knew since 2017, and completely ignore her, especially while flau’jae was right next to her trying to get a jersey lol
