will wonders ever cease?

You woke to the feeling of a hand sliding up between your thighs, and for a moment you thought you might still be dreaming. The sheets were hot and twisted around your hips, your head pounding with what you hoped was the after effect of too many orgasms and not the beginnings of an illness.

You blinked your eyes open and met the burnt honey warmth of Alexia's gaze, inches from your face. She was already propped up on one elbow, hair a mess, her mouth red and bitten, like she'd been chewing on the skin all night. She smiled at you, slow and satisfied, the dimple in her left cheek threatening to undo you before you'd even finished waking up.

Her hand was bold and familiar, tracing the curve of your inner thigh, and you realised you were naked, the duvet pooled around your waist, and her own body was tucked along your side, spooning you with the casual possessiveness of someone who considered you private property.

You grunted, voice rough from sleep. "You're always horny." You tried to sound annoyed, but it came out as a purr, and her smile doubled in size.

Alexia nuzzled her nose into the crook of your neck, kissing the soft patch of skin just beneath your earlobe. "You love it," she mumbled, her hand inching higher, fingers stroking lightly over the lips of your cunt.

You squirmed away, only to have her pin you in place with one leg, stronger than you remembered. The movement pressed her even closer, the heat of her body a slow, inevitable gravity.

You caught a glimpse of the clock on the nightstand, 8:17. For a second you panicked, cataloguing all the things you were supposed to do that day, all the places you were supposed to be. Then you remembered that you had no job, no apartment, and no where to be. You let the panic drain away and rolled onto your stomach, letting Alexia climb over you.

She straddled your ass, the weight a reassuring anchor, and you felt the blunt, familiar pressure of her strap nudging at your thigh. You turned your head, chin pressed to the pillow, and glared at her over your shoulder.

"You're a nuisance," you said, but you were already spreading your legs for her.

She laughed, the sound lazy and pleased, and dipped her mouth to your shoulder blade, biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. The hand between your thighs was more insistent now, two fingers circling your clit with the precision of a locksmith.

You moaned into the mattress, and she rewarded you by pushing you further into the bed, her other hand gripping your hip so tight you were certain it would bruise.

She slid the head of the cock between your legs, teasing your entrance. You were still sore, still slick, and the little aftershocks of last night shuddered through you when she pushed in, slow and careful, like she was afraid you'd break.

You gasped, clenching around the fullness of her, and she bent low when she bottomed out. Her rhythm was quick, all business, her mouth at your ear, "We have twelve minutes before I need to get on a call." And that urgency did something to you, to both of you she was sharper, bossier, less careful with your body, more intent on getting you off and cleaned up in record time.

One hard, deep thrust and the cock was fully sheathed in you, her palm pressed flat between your shoulder blades, pinning you to the bed. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe right, you were at her mercy and that was exactly where you wanted to be.

She fucked you harder than the night before, less ceremony and more necessity, and you loved it. You pressed your cheek to the sheets, mouth open, taking each thrust as it came, letting her use you like an outlet for whatever tension she woke to every morning.

You didn't expect to come so fast, but you did, in less than three minutes, her fingers working your clit as her hips hammered home, the pressure so sharp and bright you almost bit the pillow. She wouldn't let you lie there limp, though, not when she had so little time. She pulled out, rolled you to your back, and straddled your face, the cock still slick with you.

You licked her, greedy, hungry, the taste of yourself on the silicone only made you want it more. Alexia's thighs on either side of your head, her hands fisted in your hair, she rode your mouth in a way that was almost violent. You wished you could watch her, but your eyes were closed and your world was heat and pressure and the sound of her voice when she finally came, hips grinding down on you, swearing in Catalan.

After, she flopped on her side, breathing hard, "Come with me," she said, rolling off the bed and dragging you with her. You were dizzy, still half dreaming, but you followed her, naked, through the bedroom to the en suite. She started the shower, then pulled you in after her, shoving you up against the tiled wall while the water pounded down, hot enough to raise a pink flush on your skin.

She washed you with quick, practiced hands, fingers everywhere at once, she soaped your neck and back and ass. You tried to protest, say that you could wash yourself, but she cut you off by pinning your wrists to the tile and kissing you, the taste of last night's whiskey on her tongue. She pressed her thigh between your legs until you moved with it, desperate for friction, for anything she would give.

"Five minutes," she muttered against your mouth, and you nodded, eyes rolling back. She kissed her way down your neck, her hands at your tits, soaping them slowly, almost reverently. You tried to grip her biceps, but she had your hands trapped overhead again, and the feeling of helplessness only made you wetter.

She dropped to her knees, the shower beating down on her, pushed your knees apart, tongue hot and pointed as it licked upward, relentless and shocking. The tile was slick against your spine, cold in places where her hands hadn't braced or caressed you, and the contrast made every nerve ending spark.

You clung to her shoulders, nails digging in as she ate you out with the same ruthless focus she brought to everything else. Her hands pinned your thighs wide, and the vibration of her moan sent you electric.

Your legs started to shake almost immediately, the bruises from days ago throbbing at the edges, but she didn’t let up. If anything, she doubled down, tongue lapping at your clit, then plunging inside you with obscene, perfect precision.

The water thundered around you, drowning out your cries but not diminishing them, and you wondered if anyone else in the house could hear or if the world itself had shrunk to the square meter of steam and Alexia’s mouth.

You came hard, clutching the back of her head, legs threatening to buckle. She caught you before you slid down the wall, lifting you up and pinning you with her hips as she kissed you, mouth still slick and open, as if she was feeding your pleasure back to you. You gasped against her, dizzy, water and Alexia all you could taste.

She spun you gently so your chest pressed against the tile, her hands massaging your shoulders down to your hips. “Hold on,” she murmured, and you braced yourself as she pressed herself against your ass, the cock nudging between your thighs, hot even in the rain of the shower. She lined herself up and pushed in, slow at first, letting you adjust, then harder, deeper, until you were fucking yourself back on her with every thrust.

She worked her hand between your legs, fingers circling your clit again, and you realised she was going to make you come a third time, right here, right now, before either of you had even shampooed your hair. The thought made you whimper, breath steaming against the wall. "You love making me late," she accused, but her voice was so full of pride and want that it sounded like an apology and a promise all at once.

Your third orgasm was a ragged, splintered thing, a relic of all the pain and longing of the last week, and you let it break over you, biting down hard on your own arm to keep from screaming her name. She held you through it, slow thrusts easing you down, then finally stilled, forehead pressed to your shoulder, breath tangled with the mist.

You got a devilish grin on your lips, “Bet you can’t make me cum again before you have to get out” You tilted your head, watching her through the steam, and Alexia’s gaze went heavy, heat blooming in her eyes.

She let go of your waist and caught your wrists, pinning them so your hands were pressed into your own back. You felt her cock brush the inside of your thigh, then up between your cheeks, and she guided it with one hand, using the other to grip your ass, spreading you open.

"Since you want to be a fucking brat," she muttered, "I guess I have to teach you a lesson and fuck you like one." The words were hot against your ear, a threat and a promise in equal measure.

You braced yourself, knees bent slightly, and she nudged the head of the cock against your entrance, too slick already, eager, ready to be filled. She pushed in with a single, brutal thrust, and you cried out, the sound echoing in the tiled enclosure.

Her hand gripped your hip so tight you could feel it in your bones, and she didn’t wait, didn’t give you time to adjust. She fucked you hard, relentless, the slap of her hips against your ass drowned only by the hiss of water bouncing off your backs.

You got a hand free and reached for the soap shelf, teeth bared at the force of her, and she only laughed, low and rough, at your attempt to steady yourself. "Look at you," she said, voice gone feral, "bent over and taking it, just like you wanted."

You whimpered, the pulse of sensation already bright behind your eyes, and she leaned over you, pressing your chest harder to the wall with her own weight. Her hand left your wrist, came up to tangle in your hair, and yanked your head back so your neck arched and your mouth opened to the streaming water.

"You really are going to make me late now," she growled, and punctuated the sentence with a savage slap to your ass, the sound of it sharp and obscene in the small space. It startled you, made you clench around the cock, and she responded with another slap, this one harder, her palm stinging against your skin.

Each thrust drove you further up the wall, your cheek flush to the tile, and you could hardly catch your breath. She reached around with her free hand, because she was a fucking show-off, always, and never needed both hands to break you and slid her fingers between your legs. She found your clit, already swollen, and rubbed it with quick, ruthless circles, in perfect counterpoint to the pounding rhythm inside you.

You felt yourself coming apart at the seams, the heat of your orgasm rising sharp and fast. She felt it too, the way your body clenched and bucked, and she only redoubled her efforts, fucking you even harder, her hips a perfect piston, her hand never letting up on the tender, electric bundle of nerves that threatened to undo you.

"Come for me," she demanded, and the command shot through you like lightning. You came, shattering, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, and she fucked you through it, never letting up, fucking you until your knees gave out and you sagged against the wall.

She kept you there, trapped between her and the wall, her cock still inside you, and her hand still tangled in your hair. You panted, lips parted and slack, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Alexia waited until the shudders had completely worked their way through you before she finally, finally pulled out. The moment of emptiness was so raw you actually whimpered, and she laughed, a sound both cruel and tender. She stepped back, letting the water rinse you off, then ran both hands over the curve of your ass, appraising the marks she’d left.

"Messy girl," she said, voice softening, and you wanted to melt into the tile and never come out. She smoothed a palm over one cheek, then the other, and you could feel the pink heat radiating off your skin.

You braced both hands on the wall and tried to get your breath back, but she was already behind you again, her body pressed close, lips at your ear. "You know," she said, "when you’re this bad I really ought to fuck your pretty ass instead." The words lit something electric at the base of your spine, and you bit your lip, unwilling to admit how much you wanted it.

She noticed, of course she noticed everything and brought her hand down in a sharp crack against the centre of your ass. The sound echoed, and you yelped, though the pain was more a jolt of sensation than actual hurt.

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?" she whispered, voice all smoke. "Being stretched open for me?" Her hand slipped between your cheeks, thumb teasing at your rim in a slow, maddening circle. You squirmed, but the shower wall was unyielding and her body kept you pressed tight.

She worked her thumb in slow, steady pressure, not enough to penetrate but enough to make you tremble. She kissed your jaw, then your cheek, then bit down on the tender spot between neck and shoulder. The sensation built and built, a different kind of need than before sharper, more exposed.

She let go of your hair, and both hands found your hips, steadying you. "Maybe next time," she said, "if you keep misbehaving." She withdrew, leaving you gasping, then smoothed her hand down your back, a gentle apology.

You made a sound, half protest, half plea, but she was already turning off the water and grabbing a towel. She bundled you in it, rubbing your skin briskly, and then herself. She tugged you into the bedroom and pushed you down onto the bed, the duvet cool against your just washed skin.

Alexia dried herself with clinical speed, then pulled on a fresh sports bra and joggers. She perched on the edge of the bed, checking her phone, then set it aside and rolled you to your back, straddling your hips. Her hair was still wet, beads of water trickling down her neck.

She leaned in, kissed you, then pressed her forehead to yours. "Stay put," she said, and left you there, dazed and still throbbing from the overstimulation and the violence of her want. 

You'd barely begun to catch your breath, face mashed into the pillow, when she returned. Her hands landed on your thighs, and moving you with a surprising ease so you were laying over her thighs.

You yelped, legs kicking, but she just laughed low, mean, and delighted, kneading the backs of your thighs and ass with a possessive hunger. "You're such a fucking brat," she said, all affection disguised as threat, and you tried for a retort but couldn't find words, just a whimper when her palm came down, sharp and stinging, on the curve of your ass. 

The slap reverberated through you, heat blooming in the handprint she'd left behind. She did it again, and then again, alternating sides, her rhythm measured and merciless.

"Count," Alexia ordered, voice gone sharp with command.

You managed a breathless, "One," and she rewarded you with another, the sound as shocking as the pain. "Two," you gasped. Another slap, harder, and you arched against the mattress, burying your face in the blankets to muffle the cry. "Three."

She paused to rub the hot, aching skin, her thumb tracing careful circles, then leaned in and nipped the reddest spot with her teeth as she moved you back to lay on the bed. "Good girl," she praised, then said, "You know what happens to bad girls?"

You shook your head, trembling, and she ran her tongue up your spine, slow and deliberate, "I told you, they get their assholes fucked," she whispered, and you moaned, your whole body flushing with heat at the threat, at the promise.

She spread you wider, kneeling between your shivering thighs, and stroked your cunt, two fingers slipping easily inside, working the slick up and between your cheeks. She toyed with your rim, running a wet circle over it, not gentle but not cruel, just steady and patient.

You writhed, wanting it and dreading it in equal measure, and that tension made you wild. She pressed the tip of her thumb there, just enough for you to feel the stretch, not enough to breach.

She alternated teasing your pussy, then your ass, until you were so wet and desperate for her you could have sobbed, "You want it?" she asked, voice thick. "You want my cock inside your ass?"

You whimpered, "Yes, please, fuck, please," and she rewarded you with a filthy, satisfied hum.

"Say it."

"Please," you begged. "I want it. Please, Alexia. I want your cock in my ass."

She grinned, victorious, and pulled away, “Who said you were in charge here?”

Before you could make another demand, Alexia peeled herself off the bed and reached for a towel, rubbing you down with as much gentleness as she could muster. Then she pulled a fresh t-shirt over your head, tugged it straight, and kissed your forehead. You tried to wrap your arms around her, but she dodged, already pulling clean joggers up over her hips.

You didn’t miss the way her eyes kept flicking to her phone, or the way her jaw set hard as she tucked it into the waistband. She was already halfway back into the world, the cocoon of morning lust and violence shrinking with every second.

“Don’t tell me you have to actually go somewhere,” you said, voice hoarse and petulant.

Alexia grinned, sharp and unapologetic. “I always have somewhere to be. Today it’s a meeting with your father.”

Your blood ran cold, then hot, “You’re kidding.”

She shook her head, twisting her hair into a bun as she spoke. “He called early. Apparently, he wants to talk terms.” She glanced back at you, eyes glinting. “You broke a code, princesa. Now it’s my job to fix it.”

You rolled onto your stomach and buried your face in the pillow, still where she’d left you, furious and mortified in equal measure. “I hate you.”

Alexia bent over and kissed the back of your thigh, just above the bruises she’d left earlier. “So you keep saying,” she said, “We’ll talk about that and the punch when I get back.” She smacked your ass, then stood, all efficiency again.

You watched her stalk out of the bedroom, the door closing with a click, and listened to her footsteps grow distant. You lay there, face in the pillow, ass still burning, and tried to count how many times you had wanted to kill Alexia and fuck her in the span of a single day. You lost track around seven. You sat up, legs trembling, and pulled the duvet around your shoulders, the world spinning a little as you did.

💪🏼

The house had gone strangely quiet by the time you finally dragged yourself out of Alexia's bed. You pulled the duvet around yourself and shuffled towards the bathroom, still listening for any sign of her.

Nothing, of course nothing.

Alexia could apparently disappear into the middle of a war and leave you lying in her bed like she'd merely gone downstairs to make coffee.

You were especially not going to think about the fact that she'd walked out of here barely dressed to go meet your father. The same man who had just killed his own nephew for putting his hands on you and Alexia had apparently decided the appropriate response was to attend a meeting with him in fucking joggers.

You showered quickly, dressed in the clothes you'd arrived in and headed downstairs.

The first person you encountered was Patri, she was halfway through the hallway, carrying what looked like a bowl of cereal.

She stopped and looked at you. her eyebrows slowly climbed, "No."

You frowned, "What?"

"I don't want to know."

"Then stop looking at me."

"I wasn't."

"You absolutely were."

Patri's gaze dropped pointedly to your neck, you immediately covered it with your hand, her mouth fell open, "Oh my God." Patri grinned, "Boss finally met someone who talks back."

You stared at her, "Patri."

She held both hands up, "Okay, okay." She started walking past, then stopped, "Oh, by the way."

You closed your eyes, "What?"

Then heard Mapi's voice from the living room, "She's awake!"

You immediately turned around, Mapi appeared around the corner with Ingrid behind her, Mapi's eyes travelled over you, then she smiled.

Ingrid looked between you both, clearly fighting a smile, "Breakfast?"

You sighed, "Please."

You followed them towards the kitchen, trying desperately to pretend you hadn't just woken up in the bedroom of the most dangerous woman you'd ever met after an evening that had somehow involved your father's dead nephew, a Polaroid, and a multitude of orgasms.

You sat down, Ingrid put coffee in front of you, "Alexia said you'd probably need this."

You stared at the mug, then at Ingrid.

Ingrid nodded, "She also said you're not to leave the house."

Your eyebrows rose, "She what?"

Mapi dropped into the chair opposite you, "Yeah, that part sounded very much like Boss."

You looked towards the doorway, "Did she seriously think I'd just sit here waiting for her?"

Mapi shrugged, "Apparently."

"She's unbelievable."

"Mm."

You picked up your coffee, "Where's she meeting my father?"

Nobody answered immediately, you slowly lowered the mug, "...What?"

Ingrid gave you a sympathetic look, "Alexia didn't say."

"Nobody knows?"

Mapi exchanged a glance with her, "Cata knows."

"Where's Cata?"

"With Alexia."

Your stomach twisted, you hated that your first instinct was to worry and perhaps worst of all, you hated that somewhere underneath all of it was the quiet certainty that Alexia was going to walk into a room with your father and somehow make you worry about him.

You pushed your coffee away, "I'm calling Cata."

Mapi immediately reached across the table and put a hand over your phone, "No."

You stared at her hand, then at her, "Move."

"Boss said—"

"Boss isn't here."

Mapi's eyebrows lifted, "That's exactly when Boss's orders become more important."

You narrowed your eyes, Mapi smiled sweetly as you stared at one another.

Then your phone buzzed, you snatched it up.

One message from Alexia, who'd apparently at some point saved her number in your phone and taken yours.

Alexia: Behave.

You stared at the screen, your jaw dropped.

Another message arrived.

Alexia: And eat.

You looked slowly around the table, Patri put her own phone down, "What's she said?"

You locked your phone, "Nothing."

Patri grinned, "Oh, definitely something."

You pulled your coffee towards yourself and muttered, "I fucking hate her."

Mapi smiled, "Sure you do."

Your phone buzzed again, you looked.

Alexia: I can feel you complaining about me from here, princesa.

You stared at it, then typed furiously.

You: Go play mafia boss with my father and leave me alone.

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

Alexia: Brat.

You couldn't stop the smile, which was unfortunate, because every single person in the kitchen saw it.

💪🏼

You realised exactly how empty the house had gone, all at once. Even the usual chaos of the kitchen had faded, replaced by a strange, echoey hush that made the whole place feel abandoned. You wandered room to room through the den, the sunroom, and finally back up the main staircase half convinced the others were setting up some sort of elaborate prank or intervention.

You passed through the library. Empty. The balcony. Empty. Even the terrace, overlooking the pool where Mapi normally spent all her downtime, was conspicuously vacant, the only evidence of life the faintly damp towel slung across the nearest lounge chair.

You pulled your phone from your pocket. No new messages. No missed calls. You checked your notifications twice, as if they might have simply failed to load the first time. The silence grew unbearable, and you found yourself pacing the upstairs hallway, tracking the same circuit over and over until the tread beneath your feet started to wear thin.

You ended up in the gym, not because you wanted to work out, but because the door was propped open and the low thump of music pulsed through the hallway, too loud and too rhythmic to ignore. You stepped inside, expecting to find at least one of the girls blowing off steam on the treadmill, or maybe a pair of them sparring in the corner, but there was only you.

You lay down on the mat, the music pounding in your chest, and stared up at the fluorescent lighting. It wasn’t even music you particularly liked, the kind of playlist you’d put on if you wanted to get hyped up for a bank robbery, or possibly a car chase. You let the sound wash over you, a physical sensation, not entirely pleasant, and tried to think about nothing at all.

You lost track of time. At some point, you must have fallen asleep, because you woke to the sensation of someone standing over you, their shadow a solid block across your face. You blinked awake, squinting into the lights.

Alexia looked down at you with an expression you couldn't immediately read equal parts exasperated and relieved, with a thin undercurrent of something like anger that she was clearly struggling to contain.

"You’ve been missing for two hours," she said, arms crossed over her chest, "Everyone thought you’d gone wandering."

You propped yourself up on your elbows, instantly aware of how wrecked your hair looked, "They clearly didn't look very hard, your team must be shit at hide and seek"

Alexia nodded with a sort of forced patience. She glanced at the speaker, then back at you. "You’re supposed to tell someone where you'll be."

You shrugged, then, in a slightly louder voice, "I didn’t know I was on house arrest." You tried to sound indignant, but your voice came out small, more like a confession than a protest. 

Alexia didn’t move, just ran her gaze up and down your body, cataloguing every detail and finding it lacking. She jerked her chin toward the hallway. “With me. Now.”

You opened your mouth to ask why, but she was already gone, her footsteps echoing on the floor as she cut through the house with mechanical efficiency. You scrambled upright and followed, unable to shake the weird, obedient thrill that came from being summoned by her, even if you knew it was supposed to be terrifying.

You trailed Alexia out of the gym, silently rehearsing what you’d scream at her if she so much as tried to lock a door behind you. She didn’t look back, didn’t even slow for a door, just shouldered through the door at the end of the corridor and waited for you to catch up, one hand braced flat on the frame.

You followed her into her bedroom, it was only after a moment that you saw the boxes.

Six of them, labelled in Lily’s handwriting. Your name in fat black sharpie on three. Two more with bathroom, and a last one with misc/fragile, which you suspected was code for all the shit I didn’t want to wrap individually. Your duffel bag, the one you’d left at Lily’s was perched on the edge of the bed, half unzipped and already bleeding your old clothes and a tangled mess of tangled charger cords.

You stared at the boxes, then at Alexia. She didn’t meet your eyes, just watched you take it in, arms folded, her expression a mask of studied neutrality. “You’re moving me in?” you asked, voice floating somewhere above your own head.

Alexia shrugged, “It’s safer,” she said, like that was all the explanation required. When you didn’t answer, she walked past you and started opening the boxes, pulling out stacks of clothing with a bored sort of grace and dropping them in the bottom drawer of a dresser. She made quick work of the first box, then moved to the next, methodically unpacking your life into her space.

You hovered at the foot of the bed, feeling suddenly and enormously ridiculous. You had lost the right to your own privacy somewhere between the moment you’d let her finger you after that first encounter at the bar and the one where you’d come to beg someone to fuck your ass when it had never appealed to you before. But this was something else, this was an act of total control.

Alexia glanced up at you, then back at the open box. She pulled out a handful of t-shirts and smoothed them over her forearm, holding each one long enough for you to see the faded screen-prints and threadbare collars. “You can re-fold these if you want,” she said. “I don’t care.”

The silence thickened. You crossed to the dresser and opened the top drawer, socks and underwear, already sorted. She must have started unpacking before realising no one knew where you were. You snorted, half in disgust, half in awe. “You’re not even going to pretend to let me have a say in this?”

“There’s no time for your say,” Alexia said, flat. “There’s only time for keeping you alive.” She slammed the drawer shut, then turned and leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, finally holding your gaze.

You stood a little taller, trying to will your embarrassment into anger. “You could have asked me. We’re back to you deciding what’s best for me again.”

Alexia’s hands stilled on the shirt she was folding, for a second, she didn’t look at you and that was somehow worse.

You crossed your arms, waiting.

Finally, she lifted her head, “You think I should ask?”

“Yes, Alexia.”

Her jaw tightened.

You could practically see the argument forming behind her eyes, piece by piece, as if she were arranging the words on a chessboard before deciding which ones would hurt most.

“You disappeared.”

“I needed space.”

“You disappeared.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“You ignored Cata for days.”

You scoffed, “Oh, I'm sorry. Was I supposed to answer every single phone call from your terrifying chauffeur because you decided you were entitled to know where I was?”

“I was worried.”

“Cata kidnapped me.” Alexia’s expression shifted, You pointed towards the door, “She physically dragged me into a car.”

“She was following my orders.”

“Exactly.” Your voice rose, “You keep doing this. You decide something, and suddenly everyone else has to fall into line because you're the boss.”

Her eyes hardened, “And you think I should have let you walk away?”

“Yes!” The word cracked through the room, Alexia stared at you, you were breathing harder now, anger making your hands shake, “Yes,” you repeated, quieter. “You should have let me walk away.”

Alexia laughed once, there was absolutely no humour in it, “After Cata found you with fingerprints around your fucking throat?”

You went still, “Alexia”

“No.” She dropped the clothes onto the bed, “You don't get to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend I am angry because I want to control you.”

Your eyebrows pulled together, “Then why are you angry?”

Alexia stepped towards you, “Because I thought you were dead.”

The words landed differently, you swallowed, she kept coming until there was barely a metre between you.

“I sent Cata looking for you every day. Every day, Y/N.” Her voice remained low, but the restraint in it was becoming obvious, “I had people checking hospitals. Police stations. Every fucking place I could think of.”

“I didn't ask you to.”

“No. You didn't ask me for anything.” Her eyes flicked over your face, “You just disappeared.” You looked away, Alexia's voice sharpened, “Then Cata finds you walking down a street looking like that.”

You flinched, she noticed, of course she did, her expression softened for half a second before anger reclaimed it.

“You wouldn't even tell me what happened.”

“Because I knew what you'd do.”

“What would I do?” You gave her a pointed look, Alexia's mouth tightened, as she stepped closer, “You think I am angry because you didn't tell me who hurt you.”

“You are.”

“I am angry because you were hurt badly enough that you could barely stand and you still thought your best option was to disappear.”

Your throat tightened, Alexia shook her head.

“And then when I finally get you back here, you punch Cata.”

You glanced towards the door, “She betrayed me.”

“She followed an order.”

“She didn't have to drag me into the house.”

“She was trying to keep you alive.”

“And you don't get to decide that!”

Alexia's eyes flashed, “I do when you keep making decisions that could get you killed.” You stared at her, her chest rose and fell slowly, then she said, quieter, “You tried to punch me too.”

You looked away, “That was different.”

“Was it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I was terrified.”

“So was I.”

Your eyes snapped back to hers, Alexia didn't move, that was the thing that stopped you, not anger, not the authority in her voice.

The fact that she looked genuinely shaken, “You think I wasn't terrified when you came through that door?” she asked. “You think I didn't see you and immediately think my worse fear had come true and someone had tried to kill you?”

You swallowed.

She gestured vaguely towards your face, “You don't understand what you looked like.”

“I know what I looked like.”

“No, you don't.” Alexia stepped closer again, “And you don't understand what it means that you're still breathing.”

You frowned, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means anyone else who did what you did—”

She stopped, her jaw flexed as you waited.

“Anyone else who tried to punch me,” she continued carefully, “who disappeared after being attacked, who ignored every attempt to find them, who then turned up refusing protection because they were too stubborn to admit they needed it…” Her eyes locked onto yours, “They wouldn't still be breathing, people who don't want help and take up too much time are a hindrance we get rid off”

The room went very quiet, you stared at her.

Alexia's voice lowered, “You are alive because you are you.” Your stomach dropped, “And because you are under my protection.”

You immediately bristled, “There it is.”

“What?”

“Protection. You keep saying it like that's the same thing as permission.”

Alexia frowned, “It isn't.”

“Then stop treating it like it is.”

“You think I am keeping you here because I want to lock you away?”

“I think you're moving my entire fucking life into your bedroom without asking me.”

“Because your apartment isn't safe.”

“Then help me find somewhere else that is!”

“No.”

Your mouth fell open as Alexia folded her arms, You stared at her, “Did you seriously just say no?”

“Yes.”

“You are unbelievable.”

“Your apartment was trashed.”

“I know.”

“You were beaten there.”

“I know.”

“Your cousin tried to kill you there.”

“I fucking know, Alexia!”

“Then stop acting like I'm being unreasonable.”

“I am not acting like you're being unreasonable!” You threw your hands up, “I'm saying I want some control over my own life!” Then you added, quieter, “You don't get to become the person who decides where I sleep and who I see just because you're scared.”

Something in her face changed, not enough to make her back down, but enough that you knew she'd heard you, “You're right.” Alexia exhaled through her nose, “You should have been asked.” Your eyebrows rose, “But,” she added, you folded your arms again.

“Of course there's a but.”

Her eyes narrowed, “You're staying here.”

“Alexia—”

“Until I know you're safe.”

“That's not asking.”

“No." She stepped closer, “But I'm not going to apologise for that.” You opened your mouth and she cut you off, “Because I watched you fall apart in my arms.” Alexia's voice became quieter, “You were shaking so badly you couldn't stand. You were crying so hard you couldn't breathe and then you slept for almost twelve hours.”

Your eyes dropped, “I know.”

“I thought you were going to disappear again.”

“I wasn't.”

“You did it before.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“And who was protecting you?” You had no answer, Alexia watched your face, then, softer, “Exactly.”

You looked around her bedroom, at your clothes in her drawers, your things stacked neatly beside hers. The boxes, the evidence that she'd already made room for you before you'd even had the chance to object, “You could have told me.”

“I knew you'd say no.”

“That isn't your decision.”

“I know.” You looked back at her and she sighed, “I know.”

It was the closest thing to an admission you were going to get, you rubbed a hand over your face, “I'm still angry.”

“I know.”

“You can't just decide things for me.”

“I know.”

“And Cata owes me an apology.”

Alexia's mouth twitched, “You punched her.”

“She kidnapped me.”

“She apologised.”

You paused, “She did?”

Alexia nodded, “Several times, to me anyway” Then Alexia added, “She also said you kicked her.”

You frowned, “She was carrying me!”

“She says you have surprisingly strong legs.”

Your face twisted, “That isn't relevant.”

Alexia's mouth finally curved, “It's a little relevant.”

“Don't smile.”

She immediately tried to suppress it, “You're smiling.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.” You glared at her and Alexia's smile grew, and the corner of your own mouth betrayed you.

You caught it immediately, “No.”

“What?”

“Don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make me laugh when I'm angry with you.”

"Are you going to start behaving now?" You caught it immediately the tiny betrayal at the corner of Alexia's mouth, the way she was trying far too hard not to look pleased with herself.

You stared at her, and, because apparently you had absolutely no instinct for self-preservation where this woman was concerned, your expression softened.

Your eyes dropped deliberately to her mouth before lifting again.

“No.” Alexia's eyebrows rose. It was barely a word, but you made sure the way you said it carried considerably more than that.

“No?” she repeated.

You took a small step closer, your voice dropping into something warmer, almost sultry, “No.”

Alexia's eyes narrowed slightly, catching on immediately.

You let your arms fall loose at your sides, tilting your head as you looked at her, “I like the punishment I get from you when I'm naughty.”

Silence, Alexia's eyebrows climbed higher, for perhaps the first time since you'd met her, she looked genuinely caught off guard.

You watched the realisation move across her face, followed immediately by the slowest, most dangerous smile.

“Is that so?”

You shrugged, fighting the urge to grin, “Maybe.”

Alexia took one deliberate step towards you, your back straightened instinctively, that smile only grew, “Interesting,” she murmured.

You immediately pointed a finger at her, “Don't.”

“Don't what?”

“You know exactly what.”

“I don't.” She looked entirely too pleased with herself, “You said you like punishment.”

“I said—”

“You said you like when I punish you.” Your cheeks heated, Alexia's eyes dropped briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes, “Very important distinction.”

“You're insufferable.”

“And you're naughty.”

You stared at her, then you muttered, “See? This is exactly why I can't stay angry with you.”

Alexia's smile softened, but there was still that glint in her eyes, “Good.”

“Don't look so pleased.”

“I am pleased.”

“You're impossible.”

“And you're still staying.”

Your expression changed immediately, Alexia caught it, the teasing disappeared from her face, replaced by something quieter. You looked around the room again, at your clothes folded into her drawers, your things already occupying little pieces of her space. Then back at her, “Apparently.”

Alexia stepped close enough that her fingers could brush yours, “Apparently,” she agreed.

You glanced down at where your hands nearly touched, then back up, “Still angry.”

“I know.”

“Very.”

“I know.”

You let your eyes drift deliberately over her face, “But,” you added, “I'm reconsidering how angry.”

Alexia's mouth twitched in response, “Come here.”

You blinked, “Why?”

“Because I'm asking nicely.”

That immediately made you suspicious, “That's new.”

Her eyes narrowed, “Do you want to keep arguing?”

You considered it, then stepped forward, Alexia caught you around the waist and pulled you against her. You immediately relaxed, it was irritating. You'd spent the last hour insisting you needed independence, control, boundaries and the right to make your own decisions and apparently all it took to make you forget half of your argument was Alexia's arms around you.

You tucked your face against her shoulder, “I'm still mad.”

“I know.”

“You're still controlling.”

“I know.”

“You're still not allowed to move my stuff without asking.”

A pause, “Fine.”

You lifted your head, “Fine?”

Alexia looked suspiciously agreeable, “Fine.”

“That's it?”

“Yes.”

You studied her, “Why do I feel like I've just been tricked?”

“Because you are paranoid.”

“Because you're a mafia boss.”

Alexia's mouth twitched, “Fair.”

💪🏼

Later, you were stretched across Alexia's bed with a book propped open against your thighs, the house unusually quiet around you.

You'd discovered that being left alone in Alexia's room was surprisingly peaceful. Until there was a quiet knock sounded against the door frame.

You looked up and Misa stood in the doorway, she wasn't looking at you, her gaze was fixed somewhere over your shoulder, expression unreadable, one hand tucked into the pocket of her jacket.

“I need that gun back,” she said quietly.

You carefully closed your book and placed it on the bed, “Right.”

You slipped from beneath the duvet and crossed the room, heading towards the box you'd already memorised the location of.

Misa watched you crouch beside it and lifted the lid and started digging through the contents until your fingers found the place you'd hidden it beneath a pile of your extra makeup.

You pulled the gun free, Misa's eyes immediately dropped to it, you crossed back towards her and held it out grip first.

She took it without a word, checking it automatically before tucking it securely away.

You lingered, “Thank you,” you said eventually.

Misa glanced at you, “For what?”

You gave her a look, “For helping me.” Her expression didn't change, “I know you're not exactly my biggest fan.”

Misa's mouth twitched, “That's one way of putting it.”

You huffed quietly, “Still. Thank you.”

She looked at you for a moment, then her shoulders shifted, some of the stiffness leaving them, “I did it because Jana asked me to.”

You nodded slowly, “Right.”

Misa started to turn, then stopped, her eyes flicked back towards you, “And for Ale.” You looked at her, Misa's expression was firm, almost warning, “Don't make me regret it.”

You swallowed, then nodded, “I won't.”

She gave you one last look before disappearing down the hallway. You stood there for a moment, staring after her, it wasn't exactly acceptance, but considering Misa had once looked at you like she was deciding which part of the ocean she'd dump your body in, you'd take it.

You'd barely made it back onto the bed when footsteps sounded in the hallway. You glanced towards the door Alexia appeared a second later fresh from the gym and, apparently, completely unaware that she was walking into the room looking like that.

Her hair was damp and pushed messily away from her forehead, skin flushed from training, a sheen of sweat still catching across her shoulders and chest. She'd abandoned her shirt somewhere along the way, leaving her in nothing but dark training shorts, her stomach tightening visibly as she moved.

Your eyes dropped then immediately came back up, Alexia caught you, she paused in the doorway, one hand still resting against the frame.

Her eyebrows rose, you stared at her, she stared at you, neither of you said anything, then one corner of Alexia's mouth slowly lifted.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Her eyes narrowed, you picked your book back up with exaggerated concentration, “I'm reading.”

“Mm.”

You could feel her watching you, you tried to read the same sentence, then read it again, and again, absolutely none of it registered.

Alexia walked further into the room, and you hated how acutely aware you suddenly were of every movement. The quiet slap of her bare feet against the floor, the way her abdominal muscles shifted when she reached for the towel she'd left over the back of a chair.

You swallowed, Alexia looked at you again, “You're staring.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.”

“I was looking.”

“At my stomach?”

Your eyes snapped to hers she was grinning now, you shut your book, “Don't flatter yourself.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You didn't have to.”

Alexia tossed the towel onto the chair and came towards the bed, you tried very hard to maintain your dignity. It became significantly more difficult when she stopped directly in front of you. “Are you okay?” she asked, entirely too innocently.

“Perfectly.”

“Your face is red.”

“It's warm.”

Alexia glanced towards the open window, “It's twenty three degrees.”

“Then I'm having a medical emergency.”

That earned a quiet laugh, she leaned slightly closer. You looked up at her, your eyes betraying you once again as they flicked down over her stomach. Alexia caught it again, her smile turned downright smug. “Oh.”

You immediately frowned, “Don't.”

“You like it.”

“I tolerate it.”

“Mm.”

“Alexia.” She laughed, finally reaching down and taking the book from your hands, “Hey.”

“You're not reading.”

“I was.” You opened your mouth, nothing came out. Alexia looked far too pleased with herself, you sighed, falling backwards against the pillows, “Go shower.”

“Why?”

“Because you're sweaty.”

“You weren't complaining five minutes ago.”

Your eyes widened, Alexia's grin sharpened, “You are such a dick.”

She bent down, pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, and straightened again, “Maybe.” Then she walked away.

You watched her go and only once she disappeared into the bathroom did you quietly mutter to yourself, “Those fucking abs with be the death of me.”

You were still staring at the bathroom door when another shadow appeared across the doorway. You looked up, it was Cata, she stopped when she saw you sitting on Alexia's bed, her eyes briefly flicking towards the bathroom before returning to you.

“Where's Ale?”

“In the shower.”

Cata nodded, apparently satisfied, but didn't leave, you stared at her, she stared at you.

“Actually…I'm glad you're here” Cata's eyebrows lifted, you sat up straighter, “I wanted to apologise.”

“For?”

You gave her a flat look, “Don't make me say it.” Cata's mouth twitched, you sighed, “For punching you.”

“It was a fairly weak punch, didn't even realise” Cata's expression remained perfectly straight for approximately two seconds before the smallest smile betrayed her.

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

You looked down at your hands, “I was scared.”

“I know.”

“And you kidnapped me.”

“I was following orders.”

“I know.” You sighed, “Still doesn't mean I should've punched you.”

Cata leaned against the door frame, “You also kicked me.”

“I was panicking!”

“You apologised immediately after that part.” Cata's mouth twitched again

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands, “God.”

“Don't worry. I won't tell anyone you can't punch”

You peered at her through your fingers, “Cata.”

“I'm joking.”

“You're getting funnier.”

“Living with Patri.”

That explained absolutely everything, you lowered your hands, then looked at her properly, “I am genuinely sorry.”

Cata's expression softened, “I know and I'm sorry I dragged you into the house the way I did.” You blinked and she shrugged, “Seemed fair.”

You smiled faintly, “Truce?”

Cata considered it, “Truce.”

You held out your hand she walked over and shook it, the shower suddenly shut off.

You and Cata both looked towards the bathroom, Cata's eyes returned to you, “She'll be out in a minute." You said and, because you apparently couldn't help yourself, you added, “Don't tell the others, but you're my favourite.”

Cata's expression went deadpan, “Lucky me.”

You laughed.

From behind the bathroom door came Alexia's voice, “Hey, brat!” Cata immediately turned towards the door, "Can you come here?"

Cata glanced sideways at you, "You're not going to have sex while I'm still here again are you?"

“Y/N! You still there?” Alexia hollered.

You winced, Cata looked at you, you looked at Cata, but neither of you moved.

Then Cata's mouth twitched, “You've got about three seconds before she comes looking.”

“Traitor.”

“You made me your favourite approximately ten seconds ago.”

“Exactly. Show some loyalty.”

From behind the bathroom door came Alexia again, “Y/N?”

You raised your voice, “Yeah?”

“Come here.”

Cata's eyebrows lifted.

You immediately pointed at her. “Don't.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Your face did.”

Cata's expression remained perfectly blank, then, very quietly, “You should probably go.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You're enjoying this.”

“A little.”

You climbed off the bed, smoothing down your clothes as you headed towards the bathroom.

Behind you, Cata called, “For what it's worth, I am definitely not staying.”

You stopped, slowly turned, Cata was already walking towards the door, “Cata.” She glanced over her shoulder, “Tell Patri nothing.”

That finally got a genuine smile out of her, “No promises.”

“Cata!”

She disappeared into the hallway, you stared after her in betrayal before turning back towards the bathroom.

The door opened just enough for Alexia's head to appear, damp hair pushed back and a towel secured around her.

Her eyes immediately flicked towards the empty doorway, “Was Cata?”

“Left.”

“Why she leave?”

You shrugged, walking closer, “Probably because she was worried we'd have sex while she was still here.”

Alexia stared at you, then her eyebrows rose, “You like the thought of that?”

Your face immediately heated, “Oh, fuck off.”

Alexia's grin appeared, “You and Cata tell each other everything now?”

“Apparently she's my favourite.”

Alexia's expression changed instantly, “Your favourite?”

You realised your mistake, a slow smile spread across her face, you backed up half a step, “Don't.”

“I'm not your favourite?”

“I was being nice.”

“Mm.”

“Don't make it weird.”

Alexia stepped out of the bathroom, towel still wrapped around her, and you immediately found the ceiling fascinating. She noticed, “You're looking again.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.”

“You're literally naked.”

“Not naked and its not anything you haven't seen before”

“Alexia.”

She laughed and you folded your arms, trying desperately to reclaim whatever dignity you'd had before she'd walked into the room.

“Go put clothes on.”

Alexia leaned down until her face was close to yours, “Make me.”

Your mouth parted, you stared at her for a second, then remembered exactly who you were dealing with and immediately pointed towards the wardrobe, “Don't start.”

Alexia laughed, reaching past you for a pair of clothes and you couldn't help smiling, because somehow, impossibly, this was beginning to feel normal. Not the guns or the bodyguards and not the fact that your father's criminal empire and Alexia's had somehow collided spectacularly.

But this, standing in her bedroom while she argued with you half-dressed, your things in her drawer, Alexia calling you brat from the bathroom.

It was domestic in a way that should have terrified you, instead, you found yourself watching her pull a shirt over her head and thinking that maybe you didn't hate it quite as much as you pretended.

💪🏼

By the early evening, Alexia had apparently decided you'd spent enough time inside the house. You were curled up in the corner of the sofa with your book when she appeared in front of you, keys spinning lazily around one finger.

“Get your shoes.”

You looked up, “Why?”

“We're going out.”

Your eyes narrowed immediately, “Where?”

“Beach.”

You glanced towards the windows, “You're taking me to the beach?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Alexia stared at you, you stared back, eventually, she sighed, “Because you've been inside for too long.”

“I've been here for, like, I don't actually know how many days.”

“Exactly.” You shut your book, opened your mouth to argue when she cut you off, “Shoes.”

You rolled your eyes but got up anyway.

Twenty minutes later, you were walking beside Alexia along the beach, the late afternoon sun beginning to soften over the water. She'd deliberately left the usual entourage behind. No Cata hovering nearby, no Misa pretending not to watch every person who came within ten metres of you.

Just you and Alexia.

You shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket as your sandals sank slightly into the damp sand, “This is weird.”

Alexia glanced sideways at you, “What?”

“Walking on a beach with a mafia boss.”

She snorted, “You make everything about mafia.”

“You are literally a mafia boss.”

“I'm also a person.”

“Debatable.”

Alexia bumped her shoulder against yours, you stumbled slightly, then shoved her back. She barely moved.

“Show-off.”

“I'm stronger than you.”

“You're also significantly more annoying than me.”

“That isn't possible.”

You looked at her, Alexia looked back, “Fair,” you admitted.

For a while, you walked without speaking, the sea rolled in beside you, rhythmic and steady, and the breeze carried away some of the heaviness that seemed to have settled permanently inside your chest lately.

Alexia didn't interrogate you about what you were thinking about, she simply walked beside you.

Eventually, you glanced at her, “You do this often?”

“Walk?”

“Take people out when they're losing their minds.”

Alexia's mouth curved, “Maybe.”

“Sounds suspiciously like you're admitting I'm losing my mind.”

“You are.”

You shoved her shoulder again, this time she caught your wrist before you could pull away her fingers closed loosely around you.

You looked down, then at her, Alexia didn't let go immediately and neither did you, “You needed to get out,” she said eventually.

Your teasing expression softened, “I was fine.”

“No.” You frowned, Alexia looked out towards the water, “You were sitting in my gym yesterday staring at the ceiling for two hours.”

“That doesn't prove anything.”

“It proves you needed a walk.”

You huffed, “Bossy." Your eyes flicked towards her, Alexia's expression had gone quieter.

She squeezed your fingers once before letting your hand fall free.

For another few minutes, neither of you spoke, then you spotted a stretch of flatter sand ahead and suddenly veered towards it.

Alexia looked at you suspiciously, “What are you up to?”

“Nothing.”

“You're doing something.”

“I'm walking.”

“Wrong.” You grinned, Alexia's eyes narrowed, then you took off running, “Y/N!”

You laughed over your shoulder as you sprinted down the beach, behind you, Alexia swore, you heard her footsteps hit the sand.

“Oh, fuck.”

You ran faster. You weren't even sure where you were going. You just knew you were laughing, genuinely laughing, for the first time in what felt like forever.

Alexia caught you far too easily, an arm hooked around your waist from behind and suddenly your feet were barely touching the ground.

“Cheater!” you shrieked.

“Don't be a brat” Alexia finally set you down, but kept both hands around your waist as you tried to squirm away.

You were breathless, hair blowing across your face, she was smiling, not the dangerous smile, or the one she used when someone challenged her authority.

It was just Alexia, you looked at her for a second, then quietly, “Thank you.”

Her smile faded into something softer, “For what?”

You shrugged, “For getting me out.”

Alexia's hands loosened around you, “You're welcome.”

You looked towards the water, “I needed it.”

“I know.” You glanced at her, she nudged your shoulder, “Come on.”

“Where?”

“Keep walking.”

You groaned dramatically, “More walking?”

Alexia started moving, looking over her shoulder, “Unless you'd rather go home.”

You immediately followed, “Shut up.” Her laugh carried over the sound of the waves.

The walk continued until Alexia spotted something half buried in the sand ahead, she slowed a battered frisbee sat near the edge of the waves, probably abandoned by some family who'd packed up and forgotten it.

Alexia bent down and picked it up, brushing sand from the underside.

You eyed it suspiciously as Alexia's mouth twitched., then she threw the frisbee towards you, you caught it against your chest.

“Go long.”

You stared at her, “Excuse me?”

“Go.” She pointed further down the beach, “Long.”

“You want me to go?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to throw it.”

You looked at the frisbee, then at her, “That's your big plan for getting me out of the house? Dog training?”

Alexia laughed, “Go, brat.”

You rolled your eyes but started walking backwards, “Don't throw it too far.”

“Scared?”

“I'm wearing sandals.”

“Excuses.” You turned and jogged further along the sand, “Ready?” you called.

Alexia lifted her hand, “Go!”

The first throw was terrible, it sailed approximately three metres to her left, she stopped dead and stared at it before Alexia doubled over laughing.

“Shut up! You said go!”

“I meant throw it properly!”

“I did!”

“You absolutely did not!”

Alexia retrieved it wiped at the corner of her eye, “Okay, ready?” This time she threw it properly.

You caught it, a little surprised, you looked down at the frisbee in your hands.

Alexia grinned, “See not that hard?”

“Don't sound so pleased with yourself.” You threw it back and she caught it one handed, “Oh, fuck off.”

“What's wrong?”

“You're annoying.”

“You're jealous.”

“Of your frisbee catching abilities?” You stared at her, then you laughed and somehow, that became the evening. Sometimes one of you caught it cleanly, sometimes the frisbee veered horribly sideways and sent the other of you sprinting through the sand after it.

Eventually, both of you were tired enough that when you'd thrown it, Alexia caught it, then she'd wandered towards you while you wandered towards her, meeting somewhere in the middle before.

You sat down in the sand, Alexia dropped beside you, stretching her legs out in front of her. You were both breathing harder than you should have been for something so stupid.

You looked sideways at her, “You know this is ridiculous.”

Alexia nodded solemnly, “Very.”

You picked up the frisbee and placed it on her stomach, “Congratulations.”

“For?”

“Best evening I've had in ages.”

Alexia went quiet, you immediately regretted saying it, but then she looked at you, and there was no teasing in her expression, “Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

She picked up the frisbee and gently nudged it against your shoulder, “Again?”

You smiled, “Obviously.” You launched the frisbee at her as soon as you stopped jogging away and turned, but this time she wasn't ready.

It hit her squarely in the stomach, Alexia doubled over, you froze, then your face crumpled, “I'm sorry.”

She slowly straightened, you were already laughing, “You did that on purpose.”

“I didn't!”

“You're laughing.”

“Because you look ridiculous!”

Alexia stared at you for a long moment, then she smiled, “Oh, you are in trouble.”

You immediately backed away, “No.”

Alexia took one step towards you.

You took one backwards, “Alexia.” Another step. “Don't.”

She started walking faster, you turned and ran, her laughter followed you down the beach, “Y/N!”

“Leave me alone!”

“You hit me!”

“It was an accident!”

“You're going to pay for that brat!”

You were laughing too hard to run properly now, the sound carrying out over the water as Alexia chased you through the sand. You didn't get far. You'd barely made it another twenty metres before footsteps started gaining on you, the soft thud of Alexia's trainers getting louder against the sand.

You glanced over your shoulder which was a big mistake, Alexia was already grinning, “Oh, fuck.”

You tried to accelerate, it didn't help, an arm wrapped around your waist from behind and hauled you backwards, your feet skidding uselessly through the sand as you burst into laughter.

“Alexia!”

“Got you.”

“Cheater!”

“You ran away!”

“You were threatening me!”

“You hit me with a frisbee!”

“It was an accident!”

Alexia turned you around, keeping an arm firmly around your waist as you tried to wriggle free, “You think this is funny?”

You looked at her, her hair was completely dishevelled from running, cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling with exertion, you grinned, “A little.” Her eyes narrowed, you immediately changed tactics, “Okay. i'm very sorry.”

“Not believable.”

You put your hands against her shoulders, trying to look suitably remorseful, “I feel terrible.”

“You don't.”

“I do.”

“You're smiling.”

“It's nervous laughter.”

Alexia's expression remained unimpressed, you stared at her for a beat, then your eyes dropped to her stomach and back up.

Alexia noticed, “Don't try to distract me by batting those eye lashes.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.”

You stepped closer anyway, sliding your arms loosely around her neck, “Okay,” you murmured. “Maybe a little.” Alexia's stern expression began to crack, you leaned in, your voice dropping conspiratorially, “I'll kiss it better when we get home.” Alexia blinked, you smiled sweetly, “Your poor little stomach.”

Her eyebrows shot up, “You hit me... again”

“Accidentally this time”

“With a frisbee.”

“A very dangerous frisbee apparently.”

Alexia stared at you before she laughed, shaking her head as she tightened her arm around your waist and pulled you closer. You tipped your face up towards hers her gaze dropped briefly to your mouth, you caught it and your smile softened.

For a second, the teasing disappeared, leaving only the two of you standing in the middle of an empty beach, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her body against yours.

Then Alexia nudged her nose against yours, “Come on.”

You frowned, “Where?”

“Home.”

You smiled, “Why?”

She gave you a look, “You promised to kiss it better.”

You burst out laughing, “Alexia!”

“What?”

“You're ridiculous.”

“You made the promise.”

“I was joking!”

“Too late.”

She released you and started walking back towards the car, tossing the frisbee casually in your direction.

You caught it, “Are you seriously keeping the frisbee?”

Alexia glanced back, “Obviously.”

“Why?”

“Evidence.”

“Evidence of what?”

“That you're dangerous.”

You laughed again, jogging to catch up, “You're such a dick.”

“And you're kissing my stomach better.”

“Shut up.”

Alexia's grin widened, you bumped your shoulder into hers as you walked beside her and she bumped yours back before her arm slid around your shoulders in an apparent attempt to shelter you from the wind.

💪🏼

By the time you got back to the estate, the lingering warmth of the beach had been replaced by the familiar quiet hum of Alexia's house.

You'd barely made it through the entrance before Alexia's attention was pulled by Misa, they were whispering before she looked at you, “I need to sign some documents.”

You frowned, “Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“But you promised we'd go home and—”

Alexia's eyebrows lifted, you stopped yourself, she looked far too pleased, “Go sit somewhere,” she said, “I'll be ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” you repeated suspiciously.

“Yes.”

“You swear?”

“Brat.” she said in a warning tone before she disappeared towards her office.

You tried to be patient, you genuinely did, for approximately seven minutes, but you found yourself standing outside Alexia's office, staring at the closed door.

So you opened it.

Alexia was behind her desk, surrounded by paperwork, glasses perched low on her nose as she read through a document. Misa was sitting opposite her, leaning back in the chair with her arms folded.

Alexia looked up, her eyes immediately found you, then her mouth curved, “Can I help you, brat?”

Your eyes moved towards Misa, “Out.”

Misa's eyebrows shot up, “You can't tell me what to do.”

“Funnily enough, I just did.” You pointed towards the door, “Out.”

Misa stared at you then at Alexia, who hadn't said a word, she simply watched you, one eyebrow slightly raised, her attention when to Misa as she waited for instruction, Alexia gave the smallest nod.

Misa sighed and stood, “Unbelievable.”

She walked past you, the door clicked shut behind her, you turned back from watching her go Alexia was already spinning her chair around to face you properly.

She removed her glasses and placed them carefully on the desk, “What are you playing at?”

“Shut up.” You crossed the room, Alexia barely had time to register what you were doing before you leaned down and kissed her.

For one beat, she remained completely still, then her hand caught your waist, you smiled against her mouth.

Alexia pulled back just far enough to look at you, “You waited seven minutes.”

“Eight.”

“Oh wow. Eight?”

“I was being patient.”

Her eyes narrowed, “You interrupted a meeting.”

“I was just going to ask you how long you’d be, but you were wearing glasses.” Alexia blinked, you gestured vaguely towards her face, “The glasses.” She stared at you, and you shrugged, “They did things.”

A slow smile appeared, “Things?”

“Don't make me explain.”

“I think you should.”

“No.”

Alexia leaned back in her chair, looking unbearably smug, “So you came barging into my office because you liked my glasses?”

“I came into your office because you abandoned me.”

“For eight minutes.”

“An eternity.”

“You're dramatic.”

“And you're wearing some very sexy glasses.” Alexia's mouth twitched, you leaned down again, stealing another quick kiss, “Now stop working.”

She stared at you, “You're giving me orders in my own office?”

“Yes.”

“Brat.”

“Yes, boss.”

Her expression changed immediately, you saw it, that little flicker in her eyes, you straightened slowly. Alexia reached for her glasses again, “Go sit down.”

You frowned, “Why?”

“Because now I'm going to finish these documents.”

Your mouth fell open, “You're punishing me?”

“No.” She put her glasses back on, “I'm making you wait.”

You stared at her in disbelief, “That's worse.”

Alexia smiled and picked up her pen, you remained standing there out of pure defiance, she didn't look up at you once, “Are you going to sit?”

“No.”

“Fine.”

You crossed your arms, Alexia began reading, you waited all of about 30 seconds before you leaned over the desk and kissed her cheek.

Alexia didn't even look up, “Brat.” You kissed her other cheek, “Y/N.”

You smiled, “I'm bored.”

“Then go away.”

You gasped dramatically, Alexia finally looked at you over the top of her glasses. You stared at one another, then you smiled, “Make me.”

Alexia simply looked away and began flicking through the papers in front of her, being bored you were curious what she kept in her desk drawers, you had barely pulled it open before Alexia’s hand silently reached across and pushed it shut.

You opened a different drawer, Alexia closed it, “Stop.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I'm bored.”

“You have a book.”

“I've finished my book.”

“Then find another.”

You opened the drawer beneath it, Alexia's chair rolled backwards slightly as she stared at you in disbelief. “Brat.”

You grinned and opened the next one, her hand shot out to push it shut, you tried another and the same happened again.

“Do you have some sort of drawer closing condition?” you asked.

“I have a condition where I don't want you going through my things.”

“You're very controlling.”

“You're very nosy.”

“I prefer curious.”

“I prefer you over there.” She pointed towards the sofa.

You ignored her, naturally.

You moved to the other side of the desk, where there was another set of drawers you'd somehow missed. Alexia noticed your attention shift and immediately straightened.

“Y/N.” You pulled the handle, “Don't.” her voice was firmer than you’d ever heard it that alone made you pause.

Slowly, your eyes travelled from the drawer to her then back again, your mouth curled, you pulled it open.

Alexia's eyes closed, “Fuck's sake.”

You looked down, then blinked, there was a moment where your brain appeared to stop processing entirely, because tucked neatly inside were several sex toys that absolutely did not belong beside Alexia's stationery, spare chargers and business documents.

Your eyebrows climbed, “Close it.”

You looked back down, “Alexia.”

“Close. It.”

Your grin widened, “Are these—”

“Don't.”

You looked at her, “You can't just put a drawer like that in your office and expect me not to investigate.”

“I can when it's my office.”

“You have toys in your desk.”

Alexia's jaw tightened, “Apparently.”

You stared at her for another second before the realisation hit you, a slow, wicked smile spread across your face. You reached in again, this time palming the little red bullet and then, when she was busy with her pen, slipped it fast into the pocket of your hoodie. You closed the drawer with an exaggerated innocence, and turned away before Alexia could read your face.

"Fine," you said, a wounded dignity, "I'll go sit down."

"Good girl," Alexia muttered, not even glancing up as she signed a form with a sharp, satisfied flourish. You watched her for a moment, the lean tension in her forearm, the focus of her brow, the way her lips pursed lightly when she was annoyed but also entertained. She was so intent on her task she didn't notice you unlacing your shoes, slipping out of them, and then haphazardly wriggling out of your jeans. They landed in a heap beside the sofa, followed moments later by your underwear.

You flopped onto the sofa in just your hoodie and drawing your knees up under you and propping one heel onto the cushions, the other on the low table. For a moment you let yourself lounge there, deliberately letting your bare thigh catch the light, then you surreptitiously reached into the pocket and flicked the switch.

A soft whirring started up, quiet but insistent. You positioned yourself, so Alexia had a clear view of your bare cunt framed by black hoodie, then let your head loll back, eyes heavy lidded, as you pressed the toy to your clit. First, gentle, then harder. Your breath stuttered, and you made a point of exhaling just loud enough to carry over the sound of her pen.

Alexia looked up, her pen stalled halfway through a word, her eyes moved from your face to the arch of your hips, then down to your hand, and the little bullet that buzzed red and obscene against your skin.

You didn’t say a word you just grinned, then let your knees fall wider.

The two of you held the look, hers, sharp and speculative, yours, molten and entirely without shame. You pressed the toy harder, hips canting, and watched Alexia’s mouth go tight with a feral hunger you recognised from other private nights.

You moaned, quiet, but enough, you bit your lip, but not hard enough to muffle the noise, the small, involuntary gasps that built in your chest as the toy did its job.

Alexia just watched you.

She made absolutely no move. Didn't even bother to disguise the low, almost predatory interest tightening her jaw. She simply sat there, pen in hand, a neat stack of legal papers in front of her, and watched the way your thighs trembled and your mouth broke open around each sound.

You felt the flush creep up your neck at the intensity of her focus. The toy buzzed mercilessly, skating over your clit, and you kept your eyes trained on her, refusing to look away.

The seconds stretched, Alexia leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest, and you noticed, in the periphery of your haze, how she stilled completely. Every breath of hers seemed to synchronise with every tiny shudder of your hips.

You pressed the bullet down harder, desperate for the release but also for the way her gaze seemed to strip you, cataloguing every reaction. Your knees dropped open so wide your hips ached, and you let the hoodie fall back, exposing your chest.

Alexia’s eyes followed, slow and deliberate, taking in every inch, then returning to your hand. Still, she didn't move, didn't say a word. Not even when you started to whimper, soft, helpless sounds you couldn’t hold back even if you wanted to.

You came fast, embarrassingly so, the tension snapping in your thighs and belly, you clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your cry, but it only made the sound sharper, more desperate.

When you finally looked up, Alexia’s expression was unchanged, only her eyes had gone darker, her jaw flexed hard enough you thought it might snap.

You doubled down, dragging the toy over your clit again, not caring about the oversensitivity, just needing the way she watched you come apart for her, again and again.

After the third time, your head lolled to the side, and you managed a ragged laugh, "You’re not going to stop me?" you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia arched a single eyebrow, "Why would I stop you?" Her tone was cool, measured, and it made you shiver even more.

You let your legs fall closed, slowly, knees knocking together as the aftershocks rippled through you. The toy slipped from your fingers you stared at the ceiling and tried to remember when you'd last felt so completely unguarded.

Alexia let you lie there for another long moment, then she rose with slow, deliberate movements and rounded the desk, coming to stand over you. She studied you the way a scientist might study a new, unpredictable element.

You felt her gaze on every part of your body. She bent down, bracing a hand on the armrest of the sofa, and kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

"You are," she murmured, "the most infuriating woman I've ever met."

You grinned, cupping her face to kiss her again, a slow drag of lips and tongue that made her shiver even as she tried to keep her composure. You loved that you could do this to her, that no matter what armour she wore into the world, you could always find the seam. She let you lead for a moment, hands braced on either side of the sofa, then broke the kiss with a sharp inhale, her eyes flicking to the door as though remembering where you were.

She looked at you, daring you with her silence, but you only grinned and patted the narrow lip of the sofa next to your thigh. "Sit," you commanded, and you liked the way her mouth twitched, the moment of real calculation behind her eyes before she decided to humour you.

Alexia sat, legs splayed wide, the motion careless but deliberate. She regarded you like you were a puzzle she was already halfway through solving. You hauled yourself upright, swung your bare thighs over her lap, and straddled one of her legs, all while holding her gaze.

You trailed your hands up the planes of her torso pushing her shirt up, feather light at first, drawing your nails over the skin of her abs. You leaned in, planting a kiss just below her ribs, then another, and another, a trail of open mouthed devotion that made her inhale sharply and close her eyes for half a second.

You licked her, slow, dragging your tongue over the salt on her skin, the vibration of your next words humming against her stomach. "Told you I'd kiss it better," you murmured, and she huffed a laugh, but her hands were already coming up to frame your jaw, steadying you as you worshipped every inch of her.

You bit her, just enough to make her tense, and she slid her hand down to the back of your neck, gripping hard. You liked the pressure, how it made you feel claimed and anchored and electric all at once.

Without warning, you slipped your hand beneath the elastic waistband of her shorts, and she shivered as your knuckles made contact with her skin. You grinned, pleased at how she twitched when you palmed her through her underwear, then dipped your fingers lower, finding her already wet and wanting.

You slid your fingers over her, slow at first, then with more intent, and Alexia's head fell back against the sofa, throat bared, her grip on your neck tightening.

You watched her face, saw the way control and need was in her expression, and you wanted to see what it would take to make her break. You kissed lower, peeling down the waistband of her shorts with your teeth, exposing the trail of muscle and the tight cut of her hips. She let you, didn't even pretend to resist as you stripped her, then spread her legs even wider, giving you full access.

You dropped to your knees, hands braced on her thighs, and pressed your mouth to where she was hottest. Your tongue flicked over her clit, gentle, then harder, and you heard the way her breath choked off in her chest. She tried to bite back the sounds, to keep her composure, but you knew her now, knew exactly how to make her lose it.

You licked her, slow circles at first, then fast, then slow again, never settling, never letting her predict you. You slipped two fingers inside her, curling them just so, and she bucked into your mouth, cursing softly in Catalan. Her hands threaded into your hair, not guiding, just holding, as if she needed the anchor.

You ate her like you were starving. You wanted her undone. You wanted to see the way her eyes rolled up, whites flashing, then how she pulled you closer, desperate for more.

You sucked her clit between your lips and she groaned, hand fisting in your hair. You pushed your fingers deeper, stretching her open, and she pushed herself down onto them, riding your hand with a single minded greed that you’d never seen from her before.

“More,” she said, voice gone to gravel, and you gave her more, working your hand faster, tongue now relentless on her clit. She broke, sudden as a gunshot, her body going rigid, her thighs clamping your head so tight you thought you might suffocate.

The sound she made was almost a growl, and you licked her through it, easing her down until she was shaking. You looked up at her, chin wet, and Alexia just stared at you, wordless, as if she genuinely couldn’t believe it.

There was something close to awe in her expression, the disbelief of someone who thought they’d seen everything and then found out they’d known nothing at all.

You crawled up her lap and kissed her, slow, until her hands came up to catch your jaw and hold you there. She kissed you back, stealing the air from your lungs, then bit your bottom lip, hard enough to sting. “You’re a brat,” she breathed.

You grinned, smug and tired, “You love it.”

Alexia shook her head, whether in exasperation or devotion you couldn’t tell. She held you there, her hands at your waist, her heart hammering as wild as yours. For a long minute, neither of you moved, the only sound the distant tick of the office clock and the slow return of your breathing to something halfway normal.

Eventually, you disentangled, collapsed beside her on the sofa, legs draped over her lap. She reached over, drew a lazy finger along the curve of your thigh, then down to the still trembling muscle just above your knee. She said nothing, but the gesture was so intimate, so ordinary, that your chest ached with it.

She soon was back to her feet, putting her bottoms back on, picking up your jeans folding them into a compact coil. She set them on the edge of the sofa, then reached for the blanket draped over the backrest and covered your shivering legs with clinical, almost maternal, efficiency. Her hand found your cheek, thumb tracing the flush there, before she kissed your forehead. "I'll be as quick as I can with what I have to do" she said, her voice both soft and matter of fact, "I'm just covering you in case someone comes in."

You hummed, already half gone, and pulled one of the cushions under your head, "Okay," you said, but your voice was a satin thread, barely audible.

She pulled the blanket up another inch, then turned back to her desk, resuming her last posture as if nothing had happened. You basked in the slack limbed, post orgasmic haze, your body humming, your brain a gentle soup with slow, lazy bubbles rising to the surface.

You only realised you’d drifted off when the door opened and Misa walked in, nose wrinkling faintly. She looked at you, then looked at Alexia, then back at you.

Neither of them acknowledged the situation. Not the blanket, not the way your skin glowed across your collarbones, not the way Alexia’s jaw had set into an iron line.

Misa sat, she shuffled a few folders from her bag and passed them across the desk. She was wearing a new jacket, something black and fitted, but you couldn’t focus on anything more than the tiredness coming over you.

You let the women’s voices wash over you, that strange, low register they both used for business. It was the first time you’d ever heard Alexia talk about crime, about the logistics of moving things, about who was unhappy, about the risks and the vessels and the names you’d never spoken aloud but had always known in the back of your mind, but you didn’t care.

You floated in and out, hearing only fragments. You were completely spent, boneless, your only thought that this must be what trust felt like. The world turning to chaos around you, and you, utterly relaxed, not even pretending you could do anything about it.

At some point Misa started talking about your father, or at least his men, her gaze flicked to you and she paused, something almost like concern crossing her face before she flicked her attention back to Alexia.

“She’ll be fine,” Alexia said, and you couldn’t tell if she meant you or herself. There was a new warmth in her voice, a bone deep steadiness that hadn’t been there before.

You drifted. A minute passed, then five, then perhaps an hour. The light changed in the room, leaking from gold to blue to the first shadows of dusk. You heard the shuffle of paper, the click of a lighter, the way Misa sometimes punctuated her sentences with the tap of a pen or the snap of her knuckles.

You didn’t realise you feel asleep, you stirred when something shifted beneath you.

For a few seconds you didn't understand why you were moving, then you felt an arm beneath your knees and another supporting your back.

You blinked sleepily, Alexia had you bundled up in the blanket like some oversized parcel, your cheek pressed against her shoulder as she carried you towards the office door.

“Alexia,” you mumbled.

“Shh.” Your eyes barely opened, before they shut again.

At the doorway, Misa was holding it open. She glanced down at you, then at Alexia, “You really carrying her?” Alexia gave her a look, Misa immediately looked elsewhere, “Didn't say anything.”

You lifted your head just enough to glare at her, “Traitor.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Don't tell me what to do.”

Misa's mouth twitched, Alexia adjusted you higher against her chest, and your eyes fluttered shut again almost immediately.

“You're very brave when you're half unconscious,” Alexia murmured.

“I'm always brave.”

“Of course.”

The hallway passed in a blur of warm lights and familiar walls. You vaguely registered Alexia's footsteps on the stairs, the steady rhythm strangely comforting after the long day.

Your fingers curled loosely into the fabric of her shirt, “Where are we going?”

“Bed.”

You felt her carry you the rest of the way upstairs, through the bedroom door and towards the bed. The mattress dipped beneath you as she lowered you carefully onto it, you immediately tried to curl back into the blanket.

Alexia pulled it properly over you, tucking it around your shoulders with an attention to detail that made your sleepy brain warm.

You cracked one eye open, “Are you staying?”

She paused, then her expression softened, “Yeah, brat.”

Your eye closed again, “Good.”

But then came the soreness, the ibuprofen, and that rather cryptic phrase she had said in the hotel room, the one you still hadn't quite worked out what to do with.

"You have to decide, torito. Your rules. If they still apply or not."

You sighed, shifting against the brick wall of the stadium park. You hadn't known how to process her words then, and you certainly didn't now. Instead, you had done what you always did and disappeared into your own head. 

The air was cold around you, while the setting sun washed the Sevilla sky in shades of pink and orange. You took a deep breath, but Alexia filled your thoughts the same way the ocean filled the lungs of unsuspecting swimmers – burning from the inside out, starving every cell of oxygen before leaving them to die an agonising death. 

The asphyxiating overthinking was precisely why you had needed thirty minutes to change after the final whistle. You had needed space away from the mistake you had made on the pitch, away from Alexia snapping at you, away from Patri and Kika's gentleness, away from the dangerous voice screaming in your head that Alexia detested you now.

And look where that logic had got you... Getting called out for letting Kika hug you, watching Alexia admit her jealousy with trembling lips before she kissed the top of your head and walked away, leaving you alone.

You wondered if she had done that to process everything that had happened.

"I do notice," her voice echoed in your brain. "When you're not there."

You closed your eyes, but instead of seeing Alexia, you saw the same image behind your eyelids for what felt like the sixteenth or seventeenth time since the final whistle.

The stupid (tiny!) gap you left right in front of the box. The Sevilla girl running. The goal that sealed the defeat.

Now, as you stood in the stadium car park watching a mechanic inspect the underside of the team bus, the scoreboard that no longer existed anywhere except the back of your mind still glowed one-nil. The old voice that you had spent months gradually learning to argue with had found its footing again after the match, and it showed no sign of leaving. 

You don't belong at a club like this. The voice was so calm and certain and fucking annoying. Today just reminded everyone.

You knew it wasn't true. You knew the voice in your head wasn't always right, that you shouldn't trust it, but it didn't matter. The thought had already dug its roots in deep, and it was going to require an exhausting amount of mental energy to pull it back out, perhaps days.

A loud and metallic sound snapped you back to the reality of the car park. You looked up just in time to see the mechanic lift an important-looking piece of metal that you were pretty sure wasn't meant to come out of the engine… but not that you were an expert in buses or anything.

The bus back to Barcelona had broken down right outside of the stadium after everyone had already climbed aboard. The plan had been to head back home right after the game; that was why everyone had packed their bags, but it seemed like a change of plans would be necessary. 

Marta, sitting near the front of the bus, had overheard the driver complaining about something and passed the news to Caro, who leaned across the aisle to tell Esmee. Within about thirty seconds, the information had spread through the entire bus in a broken-telephone manner. Which meant everyone had to haul their (heavy!) belongings back off the bus and out into the cool evening despite having spent ninety minutes running and fighting on the pitch. Unsurprisingly, everyone was tired and not particularly pleased with the situation.

"We broke down?" Ona asked, a childlike pout forming on her face. 

"We broke down," Marta confirmed.

"Yeah, of course we did,"  you muttered under your breath. This occurrence was so fitting for a day like today, almost poetic.

Pere appeared from the front of the bus, phone pressed to his ear, wearing the expression of a man who had already mentally checked out for the day hours ago and was operating on nothing but professional obligation. He held up a hand for quiet, finished his call, and looked over at the team.

"The bus is staying here tonight," he said. "And so are we. They can't fix it until tomorrow morning, so we have to go back to the hotel."

A beat of silence fell over the team.

"So… the hotel here in Sevilla," Vicky asked slowly, processing the news. "The one we just checked out of?"

"Yes."

"And we're staying another night…?" She continued 

"Yes."

"That's good, actually," Cata chimed in. "I forgot my good shoes in the hotel gym..."

"This whole trip is so horrible," Syd sighed. Her headphones were resting around her neck, spilling out a song far too melancholy for this situation.

"Maybe it's your fault," Clara said in a bored voice, her arms crossed over her chest. "Your horoscope was predicting all kinds of bad things, and we still agreed to let you come with us."

"Agree to let me come?!" Sydney shot back, exasperated. "It's not like I can just skip a match because my sun sign happens to be in a terrible position!"

"Yeah, yeah, but–"

"Enough," Alexia's voice cut through the air. "Both of you. Quiet."

They fell instantly quiet, and so did everyone else.

"Oh," Vicky said in a hushed whisper, nudging Kika's side. "Capi's mad.

And so… they waited. And waited.

The mechanic was still beneath the broken-down bus, poking and prodding while everyone waited for ubers. Needless to say, the whole squad was scattered in various forms of shared misery.

Cata was sitting on her travel bag with her headphones in, looking like she very much did not want to be bothered. The younger girls, meanwhile, had clustered around Alexia, the way they always did when something went wrong on a game day.

It was almost endearing from a distance. 

Alexia was visibly grumpy, yet as though drawn by some collective gravitational pull, the kids had gathered around her anyway. Aicha was perched on the low wall beside her, Vicky on her other side, Clara nearby, and Syd hovered just behind.

All of them were talking nonstop and overlapping each other, clearly discussing anything and everything unrelated to football just to distract themselves, or maybe distract Alexia. They didn't like it when she was in one of her so-called moods. 

At one point, Alexia muttered something short and dry, and the girls immediately laughed. Alexia looked faintly pained by how easily she had made them laugh when she was trying so hard to be unavailable and intimidating. 

You watched as she pressed her face briefly into her hands before looking up again. She was, you realised, trying very hard to project the image of a captain who was perfectly fine, the untouchable leader who certainly wasn't eating herself alive over the defeat.

Patri was right; Alexia was extremely competitive, far too hard on herself. 

A few meters away, Kika, Patri and Esmee were leaning against the side of the bus, sharing a bag of salty snacks.

"Look at her," Kika whispered, putting a chip into her mouth and motioning toward Alexia with her chin. "Ale looks like a stressed-out mother duck whose ducklings won't stop misbehaving."

"Do not let her hear you say that," Patri said teasingly. "She's five seconds away from making them run drills around the car park just to get some peace of mind."

Esmee shrugged. "That's totally on her, though. I bet she can't sleep until she's convinced every new blaugrana kid feels welcome… and then they grow attached to her."

"Like leeches," Kika said, watching Vicky shove a phone right in Alexia's face while Clara rested her head on Alexia's shoulder, eating a bag of biscuits and letting crumbs fall all over the captain's shirt.

"Like leeches," Patri agreed. "Very annoying leeches."

"She's miserable," Esmee added as Syd set up her phone to film a tiktok, making sure Alexia was unmistakably right in the middle of the frame. The catalan rolled her eyes, shushing Syd and shooing the phone away.

"Nah," Kika countered. "She's right where she wants to be."

Then their attention shifted to you instead.

Patri held up a hand to wave you over. Urgh, more socialisation, but you went over anyway. 

"Hi," you said drily, though you didn't hesitate to accept the chips Patri offered.

"Still upset?" Esmee asked nonchalantly.

"No," you lied.

Patri chuckled. "Yeah, right. You look like a puppy that's just been kicked out of its home, but of course you aren't upset."

"We'll recover from the loss, amiga!" Kika said cheerfully. "Don't worry about it–"

"I'm not upset about the game," you interrupted. It was a half-truth.

"What are you upset about, then?" Esmee pressed.

"Nothing," you said quickly, instantly regretting opening your mouth.

Patri and Kika shared a smirk "Let me guess," Patri began. "Problems in paradise?"

You glared at her. "There is no problem."

"Oh, but there is a paradise?" Patri teased back.

"This is exactly why I don't talk to you people," you grumbled, taking another chip.

"You are awfully private," Kika said dramatically, rolling her eyes. "That's soo rude! I literally tell people everything."

"That's kind of a problem on its own," Esmee murmured.

"Don't try to defend her," Kika shot back. "You two are way too alike. Why did we only find out you were dating on your three-month anniversary?!"

"Because I wasn't dating any of you," Esmee deadpanned.

Kika nudged Patri. "Can you help me out here?"

Patri chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Chica, you won't get any information out of Y/n or Esmee by asking. You have to observe."

You stood there stone-faced as they continued to analyse your supposed love life as if you weren't standing right in front of them. You took that as a clue to step back from their circle.

Your eyes drifted across the car park back to Alexia. You looked away before she could catch you staring, though deep down, a part of you wanted her to see you. You were used to hiding; it felt safe, but with Alexia, you wanted to be perceived. 

Yet she didn't look up; she turned to her phone instead. 

It is a joy to be hidden and a disaster not to be found.

Her uber notification must have come through, because she checked her phone and tapped the screen (rather aggressively) before looking around the car park. Her warm, honey-coloured eyes found yours.

She stepped away from her ducklings, who were practically breathing down her neck and walked the small distance between you.

"Hey," Alexia murmured, keeping her voice down so only you could hear as she held up her phone to show the app. "You're coming with me, right?"

You looked at the screen, then glanced past her. The kids were already lingering a few steps behind her, pretending they didn't care while obviously waiting for her to decide who was getting in her uber.

They were praying for a spot in the car. Cute. They really did admire Alexia like an older sister. 

"I don't think there's space," you said, gesturing to the situation with a tilt of your chin.

Alexia glanced over her shoulder quickly, assessed the kids, and turned back to you. 

"We'll meet at the hotel then," she said simply.

And that was it.

She turned, and without a single word, the girls simply followed, falling into step behind her in a loose cluster, their voices already rising in volume around her. Aicha said something that made two of them laugh, and even Alexia smiled a bit. She could pretend to be grumpy, but those girls were her ultimate weakness; she could never keep it up for long. 

You looked down at your own phone; your uber was four minutes away.

Another night in the hotel room, you thought. Another night with Alexia… maybe? 

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind. You shouldn't be thinking about this right now.

She seemed alright with you again – she had just told you she would meet you at the hotel, right? But what exactly does "meeting at the hotel" mean? Sharing a room again? Or going to separate rooms? Had the plumbing issue been fixed? Should you be asking to stay with Kika instead? No, better not; Alexia would have an aneurysm… So, maybe Esmee?

Patri couldn't fit in your uber ride, so she stayed behind to catch the next one with Cata and Pina. That left you sandwiched between Kika and Esmee in the backseat for the entire twenty-three-minute drive, during which Kika could not, for the life of her, shut the hell up.

By the time the car finally pulled up outside of the hotel, Kika had told so, soo many terrible jokes, and Esmee had rolled her eyes at every single one of them.

When you walked into the hotel, the first thing you noticed was how much quieter the lobby was compared to that morning. A few of your teammates were visible through the restaurant window: Clara and Aicha at a table near the back, Aitana sitting with Pajor right beside them, having an early dinner from the look of it. 

You continued to walk until you saw her.  

Alexia was sitting in one of the leather armchairs near the check-in desk; her travel bag was at her feet and her phone in her hand. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her pink lips were set in a pout. She looked composed, but tired. You wanted to cover her face in soft kisses, to smooth out the exhaustion on her brow.

Alexia looked up the moment you stepped through the doors. Without saying a word, she stood, picked up her bag, and crossed the lobby toward you.

"Vamos?" she said simply. [let's go]

"I have to check in again," you said, looking at the front desk.

"I've already done it for both of us," she said casually. "Come on."

"Oh, alright… yeah," you said, caught slightly off guard by how seamlessly she had handled it.  "Thank you."

You followed her to the lift, and neither of you acknowledged the fact that she had been sitting in the lobby waiting for you when she could have already been upstairs beneath a scalding shower.

She had waited for you, you thought. 

The lift was empty when it arrived at the lobby. You stepped inside, and Alexia pressed the button. You watched the doors close and stood beside her. The silence between you wasn't uncomfortable; it was just filled with exhaustion. The complete "emotional rollercoaster" of the day had drained you both. 

The floor numbers climbed and seemingly did not stop doing so. You were tired. You wanted to sleep, but your brain was already spiralling, waiting for the conversation about the room assignments to come.

Were you sharing again? Well, it was kind of obvious you were…. Unless she had only checked you both in because it was easier? Should you ask for a key to a separate room? Something in your gut told you Alexia would be upset if you did so. 

Before your thoughts could settle, her hand brushed against yours. She didn't take it; her fingertips simply rested against your knuckles for a second.

You loved her warmth, loved how soft her skin felt against you. An ache settled in your bones; it said you didn't deserve to touch her today; you didn't deserve her softness. Still, you didn't pull away.

When the doors opened on your floor. Alexia withdrew her hand and stepped out first. She walked down the hallway with familiarity, stopping in front of the exact same door from this morning. Alexia didn't make a big deal out of it; she just held the door open for you as if sharing space again was the most natural thing in the world.

You dropped your bag beside the bed and sat on the edge of the soft, queen-size mattress. And then, before your rational mind could even register the room, the walls, the mattress beneath you, or Alexia's proximity, the match began again.

It replayed behind your eyelids over and over. You saw every angle of it, every bad decision you made.

Alexia was standing in the middle of the room. She was never one to sit when she was thinking too much about something, so instead, she began moving around the room back and forth, moving from one wall to the other like a broken pendulum. 

"We were too passive after halftime," she said, her voice tight with frustration. "Don't you think?"

"I was out of position," you said to the floor.

"We just weren't pressing them enough in the second half… we weren't coordinated. Everyone was doing their own thing… I should have stepped up sooner and reorganised us."

"I read the run wrong," you muttered, ignoring her analysis to focus on your flaw. "I saw the forward making her move, and I waited a second too long… I never wait too long; I don't know what happened!"

Alexia kept pacing, making you dizzy. "We gave them too much space; they had their whole wings to themselves! What was I thinking when I told Esmee to focus on the centre?"

You ignored Alexia right back, locked in your own mind loop… Neither of you was listening to the other. Alexia kept pacing and pacing while you hadn't even taken your shoes off yet. 

"Honestly, it's all my fault," you said bitterly  "If I had been better positioned, a bit further to the left, that ball might never have reached Cata."

That finally made Alexia stop pacing. She turned to look down at you. "You can't blame yourself for–"

"I watched it back during the drive here," you said. "I was the only one between her and Cata–"

"Which means nine other players on that pitch – myself included – failed before she ever got that close to the goal." Alexia countered.

"But I am the full-back, Ale." Your voice came out flat. "If they score, that's on me. That's my job. That's what I'm here to do, you know? To defend, or well, try to. The game is on me."

Something softened in Alexia's expression, and suddenly she didn't look like a captain trying to comfort a teammate. She looked like… You weren't quite ready to name what she looked like.

"Tori, I was too hard on you," she said, her voice gentle. "I'm sorry."

"No, Ale, it was a fair point, okay?" you said, deflecting immediately. "You don't have to be sorry for–"

"Don't say I was just doing my job," she interrupted. "My job doesn't mean being rude to you."

You tilted your head, analysing her. "You correct other players too," you pointed out. "You don't tell them you are sorry."

She seemed almost confused by her own actions. "I-I, well, I always corrected them, yes, but I'm not half as harsh with them as I was with you…I'm not apologising for the note," she said slowly. "I'm apologising for how I said it. There's a difference."

You opened your mouth, but then closed it. The room felt awfully quiet. You wanted to scream into its void just to break the tension.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"I know," you muttered. "Me too."

She looked at the ceiling, then looked at the floor, rubbing her neck.

"I'm the defending midfielder," she said, beginning to vent, "If we don't score, if the press falls apart, if we can't hold possession… that's on me. The whole game is on me," she added, parroting your exact words back.

"Great," you deadpanned. "So we were both terrible at our job, huh?"

"Apparently."

"Wonderful," you said. "Really brilliant. Excellent day's work from both of us."

"Remarkable."

You got up from the mattress and walked past her, going to the window and pulling it open. You breathed in the evening air; it was such lovely weather for such a disaster of a day.  When you turned around a few moments later, Alexia still hadn't sat down. Her arms were crossed.

"I had it," she muttered, pacing again. "We could have the game under control; we knew their pattern… I knew their-"

"You can't track every run perfectly for ninety minutes-" you tried to reason.

"I almost always do," she rolled her eyes. 

"Almost is the word of the day," you said. "Honestly, we were all rubbish today. Stop putting it all on yourself."

"Stop being reasonable," she grumbled. "I just want to be annoyed."

"Then be annoyed."

"I am."

She let herself fall to the bed with a sigh. You wandered over and dropped down beside her, both of you staring up at the cream ceiling. 

"So, we both played badly, we're stuck in this hotel for another night because the bus decided to break down, and it has been a genuinely horrible day."

"Yes," you said simply.

"Good," she said, her side pressing slightly against yours. "So glad we agree on one thing."

"...Were we really just arguing about who failed more?" she continued.

"Yes."

Alexia was about to respond when a knock interrupted her.

Before either of you could even process it, the latch clicked, and the door swung open. In mere seconds, the two of you scrambled up, and by the time the door swung open, you were standing very stiffly near the foot of the bed while Alexia had somehow ended up leaning against the small wooden desk as if she had been there all along doing God knows what.

Vicky stood in the doorway, taking in the room with her sharp, brown eyes. 

"Irene sent me," Vicky announced, completely unfazed by the sudden intrusion she just made, "She said if you don't come down to get something to eat now, Capi, the dining room is going to close,e and you'll have to survive on the vending machine–"

Vicky cut herself off as her eyes shifted from Alexia over to you. She blinked once, her face shining with mischief. 

"--and apparently you too, Y/n," Vicky added, her tone dripping with amusement. "I didn't realise you two were sharing a room again. I thought the plumbing issue got fixed?"

You could feel your face burning under her gaze, your defensive instinct coming up all at once. 

Alexia stared at her, her captain's face locked in place. "Does Irene sending you mean you can just walk into people's rooms, Vicky?"

"Well… I knocked," she said innocently. "So that's not on me."

"Oh, you knocked," Alexia said sarcastically. "Does that mean you can just open the door unannounced?" 

"It wasn't locked!" Vicky argued, as if not really understanding what she did was wrong.

"Next time it will be. You can't just walk in."

Vicky's eyes moved around the room again with (very exaggerated) innocence. She took everything in more slowly this time.

She noticed the slightly rumpled duvet and the way both your bags were scattered around. Vicky looked at you, then Alexia, before locking eyes with you, her absolute favourite target. 

"Right," Vicky said, "Sorry. Well, I'm also here because I'm genuinely upset about the match. I need emotional support. I need my captain… por favor…? Or are you too busy with Y/n? Am I interrupting something crucial? Oh! Maybe Y/n need emotional support as well?"

"Go find Patri," Alexia cut in, pointing a finger toward the corridor before you could snap at Vicky. Now."

"Patri's not–"

"Patri is exactly as much a captain as I am right now. I'm off duty," Alexia interrupted. "Go down to have some dinner. Eat real food. Talk to Patri. Close the door behind you."

"What about your dinner?" Vicky pressed, taking one last look between the two of you. "Aren't you guys coming down?"

Alexia held the bridge of her nose. "Go."

Vicky lingered, just long enough to make it clear she was leaving on her own terms before pulling the door shut behind her. Her footsteps retreated down the corridor. 

Then, a moment later, her voice came bright and happy, echoing through the corridor. "Hey Serra, guess who Capi's in her room with–"

You sat very still, already dreading tomorrow morning's breakfast, when the kids would (undoubtedly) ask whether Vicky had really caught the two of you sharing a room again.

"Vicky knows," you said flatly.

"She doesn't know anything," Alexia replied.

You looked at her. "Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you are trying to make me feel better?"

"I want to make you feel better," Alexia deadpanned. 

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Ugh."

"It's okay," Alexia said, trying to offer you a smile. "She won't tell anyone."

You gave her a side eye. "She literally just shouted down the hallway about us to Clara."

"Yeah, but Clara won't say anything."

You groaned again. "Honestly… whatever. Patri knows. Esmee knows. Kika knows. Now Vicky and Serra know…"

"It's not that bad," Alexia countered.

"Do you want them to know about us? Knowing how they are going to tease us?"

Alexia shrugged. "You just have to glare at them, and then they stop. Problem solved."

"I can't glare at people! I get flustered and embarrassed! I'm not half as intimidating as you are." 

"I'll intimidate them for you," she smiled as if life was all unicorns and rainbows.

"Oh, you're so kind," you said, rolling your eyes. 

When Alexia spoke again, her voice had dropped all of its captain's authority.

"You know what… we should cuddle," she said seriously, which did not match her proposition. "It's been way too long of a day for us."

You studied her up and down. She looked soft and tired, and you needed her to want to touch you.

"Mhmm… okay," you agreed. "Come here."

Alexia shifted a little closer until her shoulder brushed yours. She was testing the waters, seeing if it was really okay. Physical intimacy between you was a rare currency when sex wasn't involved, after all.

After a brief moment, Alexia finally curled into your side, tucking her face against your collarbone as though she had been wanting to do it all day. You stayed very still, adjusting to her weight and her warmth. 

"I really didn't mean to snap at you," she said, her voice muffled

"I know," you said, "I'm serious, Ale. You can stop apologising; it's alright."

"It's not, though," she propped herself up on one elbow so she could look at you. "I won't do it again, vale?"

You chuckled. She was cute. "I hope you don't… you sounded a bit intimidating."

Alexia blushed, which was not the response you had expected from a two-time Ballon d'Or winner. You looked up at her, your mind slipping back into its familiar habit of picking every little thing apart. 

You found yourself thinking about the part of you that had been waiting, somewhere deep and private, for her to finally see you fail.

About how the correction on the pitch had landed like something you had been half-expecting ever since you had arrived in Barcelona, ever since you met Alexia. Somewhere in a tired, masochistic corner of your brain, there had almost been a sense of relief. 

Finally, there it is. Here is the flaw that was always bound to surface.

There was something oddly bittersweet when people were mad or upset at you.  Something strangely comforting about disappointing people. How fucked up have you chilhood been for you to feel comfort in that?

It felt safe to know you had made a mistake, because it meant people would stop expecting things from you. They would know you were incompetent, bad and imperfect... except Alexia wasn't looking at you as if you were any of those things right now. She wasn't looking at you like that at all. 

Weird. 

You didn't want to talk to her about it, though.

You kept those messy thoughts to yourself.  Instead, you let yourself stay with her, cuddling, sharing very sweet, absent-minded kisses that barely lasted longer than half a second. But right as you were beginning to melt into her body, to relax, Alexia made a strange face and pulled away.

"Hey, what–" Before you could ask what was wrong, she disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door, murmuring about how she was going to be right back.

You frowned and sat on the bed, listening to the sound of running water. Should you go up and knock on the door? What had happened? You chose to stay put and let Alexia do her thing.

While you waited, your thoughts drifted back to the book you had been reading earlier that week – Madonna in a fur coat – when the water stopped, and the bathroom door opened.

Alexia stepped out, looking, somehow, even more grumpy than when she had gone in. She stood in the doorway and looked at you miserably.

"I got my period," she announced flatly. "I wasn't due for three days. This day needs to end. I'm serious."

You blinked up at her, sitting up a little as you abandoned Sabahattin Ali's universe. "Oh… your peri–"

"I think you're messing with my hormones," she added, crossing her arms. "I haven't been this early in years!"

You pressed your lips together.

"...I'm sorry? I didn't mean to mess with your menstrual cycle."

She pouted at you. "You don't sound sincere at all."

"I'm sorry I don't sound sincere," you said. You couldn't help but think she was rather adorable like this, all pouty. "Do you need anything? Want me to get your bag or–"

"I don't have anything with me, tori. Nada " She gestured helplessly at herself, as if to illustrate the full extent of the situation. "I don't have pads, tampons, nothing! We were supposed to be back in Barcelona by now. I didn't plan for this to happen!"

"Okay, baby, hold on," you said, walking to your own bag. "I'm supposed to have stuff here somewhere, just–" You unzipped your bag and started rummaging through it, searching for a pad, and while on it, you found medicine, one of your little notebooks, the good pen you had been looking for ages, and then, finally, you pulled out the pad. It was a bit creased, but it would do its job.

You walked over and held it out to her.

"I've got a few more if you need them," you said. "They are in the internal left pocket of my bag… and sorry, I don't have any tampons. I can go out for them if you want?"

"No, this is good enough, thank you," she muttered, the pout still holding strong.  "I'm just frustrated! I'm literally thirty-two, I should know by now to always carry tampons with me wherever I go…"

"Ah, come on, don't do that, Ale", you said gently. "It came three days early; you are allowed to be caught off guard, don't stress over it, yeah? Just get whatever you need from my bag. I'm sure the girls can help you out, too."

She nodded. "Thank you, torito." Then she walked back into the bathroom. 

When she came back out, you closed the distance between you without thinking. Your hands settled on her waist, and you felt her go less rigid beneath your touch, the tension in her shoulders releasing one layer at a time. She pressed herself back into you, her head on your shoulder. 

"Feeling a little better?" you asked.

"No, I'm devastated," She pouted into your neck. "And it's all your fault, tori."

"Devastated?" You teased her "That's a big word."

"You are not helping."

"Sorry… let me try again. How is it my fault you got your period?" you said, your voice sweet. "That doesn't make sense, sweetheart."

"You make my body go all wrong," she said.

"I do?"

"Uhum."

Your thumb traced slow circles against her waist as you gently guided the two of you back onto the bed. "You make my mind go all wrong. Guess we're even, then?"

Alexia was quiet for a moment, but then she spoke.  "So… I forgive you, and you forgive me?" she murmured. "For messing each other up?"

"Yes, bebé," you whispered, kissing her cheek.  "I forgive you, and you forgive me. You are such a good martyr," you said fondly. "Has anyone told you that?"

"Only when I'm on my period," she mumbled.

"Hm," you chuckled.

Alexia's breathing had slowed against your shoulder. You were waiting for the request, almost certain she was about to send you out for an emergency trip to buy her whatever she might need. 

"...I'm waiting," you said finally.

"Mhmm… for what?" she murmured.

"For you to send me out for a heat pad. Or ibuprofen. Chocolate. That's usually how this goes. Isn't it?"

She lifted her head enough to look at you; she was a bit tired, her eyelids were heavy. "I don't eat chocolate on weekdays. And I don't usually need heating pads."

You looked at her. "Ah, you don't get cramps?"

"I do sometimes, but they are very, very mild," she said. "I barely feel anything most of the time."

"Oh. That's great."

"Yeah, but I do get light headaches sometimes," she continued. "Barça's doctor told me it's because of low iron, so sometimes I have to take some tablets."

"Poor baby," you murmured, pressing another kiss to her temple.

"I'm waiting too," Alexia said after a moment, nosing at your skin. 

"For what?"

"For you to tell me about your period." She said, then she moved like a clingy cat and pressed her cheek against yours. "I just told you about mine; it's only fair, sí?"

"You think it's that easy to get information out of me, capi?" You smirked, teasingly. 

"No," she said, her hand drifting lazily up and down your side before coming to rest against your hipbone, and then she tucked her face against your chest. "That's why I'm asking nicely. Please. Be nice to me. I'm bleeding. I'm in pain."

"You just told me you're barely cramping."

"Yes," she said with great dignity, "but you said I was a good martyr. So this is me being a good martyr… Por favor? Tell me?"

You exhaled and looked at the ceiling, giving what she wanted. "Fine, Putellas. I get bad periods.

… Crickets. 

"Okay, and…? That's all you're giving me?" 

"Well, yes. That's it. I bleed a lot and have bad cramps. The absolute worst mood you've ever seen, too… I'm not exactly a joy to be around."

"Hmm," she sounded a bit suspicious. "Really? I've never noticed any of it, and we've known each other for what? A year?"

"I think I'm just very good at hiding it," you said proudly, but alexia didn't match your energy. 

Alexia looked up at you and didn't smile. "You say that like it's a good thing."

You blushed. "I thought it was."

"I don't think it is."

"Oh." You didn't really expect that answer.

Was there one thing you did in life right?

"I mean… I've never noticed you getting more sensitive around that time, or more emotional." She tilted her head slightly against your shoulder. 

"I would have thought I'd notice. I should've, shouldn't I?" She furrowed. "I pay attention to you… I even know when Vicky is on hers because she cries at literally everything, and she doesn't even have to tell me."

"Well, I don't get sensitive," you explained. "So that must be the reason why you never noticed. I don't really cry much."

"No?"

"No, I just get a bit angry, impatient. That kind of stuff."

"Angry how?" She asked.

Alexia had apparently decided that tonight was the night she was going to ask every single question she had been collecting for months. 

"Just… well, just angry." You said with a small shrug, searching for the right scientific term and coming up with nothing. "Everything irritates me, and tiny things suddenly feel much more urgent than they actually are. That kind of anger."

Alexia didn't say anything immediately, which meant she was thinking about it properly, turning it over in her head.

"So right now," she said slowly. "With the game, and the broken bus, and all of it… You aren't–"

"I'm not on my period," you clarified with a smile. "Unfortunately, this is just me on my good day."

She hummed. "So if you were on your period–"

"Today would have been exponentially worse," you confirmed. "Yes."

"Hmmm… " She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I'll make a note."

"Please don't."

"I'm your captain," she said teasingly. "I have to know these things for scheduling purposes."

"You don't schedule anything. Ever. That is literally not your job."

"As captain, I have a great deal of influence when it comes to scheduling," she replied proudly.

"Oh," you said flatly. "What do you do? Glare at people until they move training?"

"Do you always have to be this sarcastic?"

"Sorry."

"Anyway… tell me next time when you are due," she said matter-of-factly. "Actually… I have a better idea! We should share a period tracking app!"

"Absolutely not." You shook your head immediately. "Nope."

"But-"

"I will leave this bed right now," you threatened. "At once."

In response, she tightened her arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her. Alexia's breathing was even out against your shoulder again, before her voice cut through the silence. 

"You know what? Since we're in a talking mood…"

"You're in a talking mood," you interrupted her. "I'm definitely not."

"...you haven't talked about your ex since that night," she continued, ignoring you. 

Your stomach turned at that. "You're awfully curious tonight."

"I like getting to know people."

"Funny of you to say that," you said. "I'm pretty sure everyone on the team would tell me they don't remember the last time you played personal quiz with them."

"Okay," she said, without missing a beat. "Maybe I like getting to know you."

You smiled despite yourself, which she definitely felt against your shoulder.

"Oh, are you into me or something?" You teased. "That's so gay of you."

"You're changing the subject," she rolled her eyes, blushing. "Again."

"I'm trying to," you admitted. 

"Don't try." She moved, settling more firmly against your body, as if to make clear she wasn't going anywhere. "Let me propose an exercise, torito. One where you don't overthink every single word before it leaves your mouth."

You pouted. "I don't think my brain works like that."

"You can try."

You sighed in defeat. "I'll tell you about my ex if you tell me about yours."

Alexia chuckled. "That's not how it works. I always talk to you about myself, sí? I've already done my part. You're the one who drops a bomb in my lap every two weeks and then goes completely silent."

You rolled your eyes.

She won.

A/n: Hiii!! I hope you guys liked this chapter! I had lots of fun writing it hehehe; they are just so endearing and fucked up in the head!! I personally love how Ale goes all captain with the kids, and then she melts with Tori.

Come talk with me about it!! Talking about fic really helps me with motivation and ideas, hehe

But then came the soreness, the ibuprofen, and that rather cryptic phrase she had said in the hotel room, the one you still hadn't quite worked out what to do with.

"You have to decide, torito. Your rules. If they still apply or not."

You sighed, shifting against the brick wall of the stadium park. You hadn't known how to process her words then, and you certainly didn't now. Instead, you had done what you always did and disappeared into your own head. 

The air was cold around you, while the setting sun washed the Sevilla sky in shades of pink and orange. You took a deep breath, but Alexia filled your thoughts the same way the ocean filled the lungs of unsuspecting swimmers – burning from the inside out, starving every cell of oxygen before leaving them to die an agonising death. 

The asphyxiating overthinking was precisely why you had needed thirty minutes to change after the final whistle. You had needed space away from the mistake you had made on the pitch, away from Alexia snapping at you, away from Patri and Kika's gentleness, away from the dangerous voice screaming in your head that Alexia detested you now.

And look where that logic had got you... Getting called out for letting Kika hug you, watching Alexia admit her jealousy with trembling lips before she kissed the top of your head and walked away, leaving you alone.

You wondered if she had done that to process everything that had happened.

"I do notice," her voice echoed in your brain. "When you're not there."

You closed your eyes, but instead of seeing Alexia, you saw the same image behind your eyelids for what felt like the sixteenth or seventeenth time since the final whistle.

The stupid (tiny!) gap you left right in front of the box. The Sevilla girl running. The goal that sealed the defeat.

Now, as you stood in the stadium car park watching a mechanic inspect the underside of the team bus, the scoreboard that no longer existed anywhere except the back of your mind still glowed one-nil. The old voice that you had spent months gradually learning to argue with had found its footing again after the match, and it showed no sign of leaving. 

You don't belong at a club like this. The voice was so calm and certain and fucking annoying. Today just reminded everyone.

You knew it wasn't true. You knew the voice in your head wasn't always right, that you shouldn't trust it, but it didn't matter. The thought had already dug its roots in deep, and it was going to require an exhausting amount of mental energy to pull it back out, perhaps days.

A loud and metallic sound snapped you back to the reality of the car park. You looked up just in time to see the mechanic lift an important-looking piece of metal that you were pretty sure wasn't meant to come out of the engine… but not that you were an expert in buses or anything.

The bus back to Barcelona had broken down right outside of the stadium after everyone had already climbed aboard. The plan had been to head back home right after the game; that was why everyone had packed their bags, but it seemed like a change of plans would be necessary. 

Marta, sitting near the front of the bus, had overheard the driver complaining about something and passed the news to Caro, who leaned across the aisle to tell Esmee. Within about thirty seconds, the information had spread through the entire bus in a broken-telephone manner. Which meant everyone had to haul their (heavy!) belongings back off the bus and out into the cool evening despite having spent ninety minutes running and fighting on the pitch. Unsurprisingly, everyone was tired and not particularly pleased with the situation.

"We broke down?" Ona asked, a childlike pout forming on her face. 

"We broke down," Marta confirmed.

"Yeah, of course we did,"  you muttered under your breath. This occurrence was so fitting for a day like today, almost poetic.

Pere appeared from the front of the bus, phone pressed to his ear, wearing the expression of a man who had already mentally checked out for the day hours ago and was operating on nothing but professional obligation. He held up a hand for quiet, finished his call, and looked over at the team.

"The bus is staying here tonight," he said. "And so are we. They can't fix it until tomorrow morning, so we have to go back to the hotel."

A beat of silence fell over the team.

"So… the hotel here in Sevilla," Vicky asked slowly, processing the news. "The one we just checked out of?"

"Yes."

"And we're staying another night…?" She continued 

"Yes."

"That's good, actually," Cata chimed in. "I forgot my good shoes in the hotel gym..."

"This whole trip is so horrible," Syd sighed. Her headphones were resting around her neck, spilling out a song far too melancholy for this situation.

"Maybe it's your fault," Clara said in a bored voice, her arms crossed over her chest. "Your horoscope was predicting all kinds of bad things, and we still agreed to let you come with us."

"Agree to let me come?!" Sydney shot back, exasperated. "It's not like I can just skip a match because my sun sign happens to be in a terrible position!"

"Yeah, yeah, but–"

"Enough," Alexia's voice cut through the air. "Both of you. Quiet."

They fell instantly quiet, and so did everyone else.

"Oh," Vicky said in a hushed whisper, nudging Kika's side. "Capi's mad.

And so… they waited. And waited.

The mechanic was still beneath the broken-down bus, poking and prodding while everyone waited for ubers. Needless to say, the whole squad was scattered in various forms of shared misery.

Cata was sitting on her travel bag with her headphones in, looking like she very much did not want to be bothered. The younger girls, meanwhile, had clustered around Alexia, the way they always did when something went wrong on a game day.

It was almost endearing from a distance. 

Alexia was visibly grumpy, yet as though drawn by some collective gravitational pull, the kids had gathered around her anyway. Aicha was perched on the low wall beside her, Vicky on her other side, Clara nearby, and Syd hovered just behind.

All of them were talking nonstop and overlapping each other, clearly discussing anything and everything unrelated to football just to distract themselves, or maybe distract Alexia. They didn't like it when she was in one of her so-called moods. 

At one point, Alexia muttered something short and dry, and the girls immediately laughed. Alexia looked faintly pained by how easily she had made them laugh when she was trying so hard to be unavailable and intimidating. 

You watched as she pressed her face briefly into her hands before looking up again. She was, you realised, trying very hard to project the image of a captain who was perfectly fine, the untouchable leader who certainly wasn't eating herself alive over the defeat.

Patri was right; Alexia was extremely competitive, far too hard on herself. 

A few meters away, Kika, Patri and Esmee were leaning against the side of the bus, sharing a bag of salty snacks.

"Look at her," Kika whispered, putting a chip into her mouth and motioning toward Alexia with her chin. "Ale looks like a stressed-out mother duck whose ducklings won't stop misbehaving."

"Do not let her hear you say that," Patri said teasingly. "She's five seconds away from making them run drills around the car park just to get some peace of mind."

Esmee shrugged. "That's totally on her, though. I bet she can't sleep until she's convinced every new blaugrana kid feels welcome… and then they grow attached to her."

"Like leeches," Kika said, watching Vicky shove a phone right in Alexia's face while Clara rested her head on Alexia's shoulder, eating a bag of biscuits and letting crumbs fall all over the captain's shirt.

"Like leeches," Patri agreed. "Very annoying leeches."

"She's miserable," Esmee added as Syd set up her phone to film a tiktok, making sure Alexia was unmistakably right in the middle of the frame. The catalan rolled her eyes, shushing Syd and shooing the phone away.

"Nah," Kika countered. "She's right where she wants to be."

Then their attention shifted to you instead.

Patri held up a hand to wave you over. Urgh, more socialisation, but you went over anyway. 

"Hi," you said drily, though you didn't hesitate to accept the chips Patri offered.

"Still upset?" Esmee asked nonchalantly.

"No," you lied.

Patri chuckled. "Yeah, right. You look like a puppy that's just been kicked out of its home, but of course you aren't upset."

"We'll recover from the loss, amiga!" Kika said cheerfully. "Don't worry about it–"

"I'm not upset about the game," you interrupted. It was a half-truth.

"What are you upset about, then?" Esmee pressed.

"Nothing," you said quickly, instantly regretting opening your mouth.

Patri and Kika shared a smirk "Let me guess," Patri began. "Problems in paradise?"

You glared at her. "There is no problem."

"Oh, but there is a paradise?" Patri teased back.

"This is exactly why I don't talk to you people," you grumbled, taking another chip.

"You are awfully private," Kika said dramatically, rolling her eyes. "That's soo rude! I literally tell people everything."

"That's kind of a problem on its own," Esmee murmured.

"Don't try to defend her," Kika shot back. "You two are way too alike. Why did we only find out you were dating on your three-month anniversary?!"

"Because I wasn't dating any of you," Esmee deadpanned.

Kika nudged Patri. "Can you help me out here?"

Patri chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Chica, you won't get any information out of Y/n or Esmee by asking. You have to observe."

You stood there stone-faced as they continued to analyse your supposed love life as if you weren't standing right in front of them. You took that as a clue to step back from their circle.

Your eyes drifted across the car park back to Alexia. You looked away before she could catch you staring, though deep down, a part of you wanted her to see you. You were used to hiding; it felt safe, but with Alexia, you wanted to be perceived. 

Yet she didn't look up; she turned to her phone instead. 

It is a joy to be hidden and a disaster not to be found.

Her uber notification must have come through, because she checked her phone and tapped the screen (rather aggressively) before looking around the car park. Her warm, honey-coloured eyes found yours.

She stepped away from her ducklings, who were practically breathing down her neck and walked the small distance between you.

"Hey," Alexia murmured, keeping her voice down so only you could hear as she held up her phone to show the app. "You're coming with me, right?"

You looked at the screen, then glanced past her. The kids were already lingering a few steps behind her, pretending they didn't care while obviously waiting for her to decide who was getting in her uber.

They were praying for a spot in the car. Cute. They really did admire Alexia like an older sister. 

"I don't think there's space," you said, gesturing to the situation with a tilt of your chin.

Alexia glanced over her shoulder quickly, assessed the kids, and turned back to you. 

"We'll meet at the hotel then," she said simply.

And that was it.

She turned, and without a single word, the girls simply followed, falling into step behind her in a loose cluster, their voices already rising in volume around her. Aicha said something that made two of them laugh, and even Alexia smiled a bit. She could pretend to be grumpy, but those girls were her ultimate weakness; she could never keep it up for long. 

You looked down at your own phone; your uber was four minutes away.

Another night in the hotel room, you thought. Another night with Alexia… maybe? 

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind. You shouldn't be thinking about this right now.

She seemed alright with you again – she had just told you she would meet you at the hotel, right? But what exactly does "meeting at the hotel" mean? Sharing a room again? Or going to separate rooms? Had the plumbing issue been fixed? Should you be asking to stay with Kika instead? No, better not; Alexia would have an aneurysm… So, maybe Esmee?

Patri couldn't fit in your uber ride, so she stayed behind to catch the next one with Cata and Pina. That left you sandwiched between Kika and Esmee in the backseat for the entire twenty-three-minute drive, during which Kika could not, for the life of her, shut the hell up.

By the time the car finally pulled up outside of the hotel, Kika had told so, soo many terrible jokes, and Esmee had rolled her eyes at every single one of them.

When you walked into the hotel, the first thing you noticed was how much quieter the lobby was compared to that morning. A few of your teammates were visible through the restaurant window: Clara and Aicha at a table near the back, Aitana sitting with Pajor right beside them, having an early dinner from the look of it. 

You continued to walk until you saw her.  

Alexia was sitting in one of the leather armchairs near the check-in desk; her travel bag was at her feet and her phone in her hand. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and her pink lips were set in a pout. She looked composed, but tired. You wanted to cover her face in soft kisses, to smooth out the exhaustion on her brow.

Alexia looked up the moment you stepped through the doors. Without saying a word, she stood, picked up her bag, and crossed the lobby toward you.

"Vamos?" she said simply. [let's go]

"I have to check in again," you said, looking at the front desk.

"I've already done it for both of us," she said casually. "Come on."

"Oh, alright… yeah," you said, caught slightly off guard by how seamlessly she had handled it.  "Thank you."

You followed her to the lift, and neither of you acknowledged the fact that she had been sitting in the lobby waiting for you when she could have already been upstairs beneath a scalding shower.

She had waited for you, you thought. 

The lift was empty when it arrived at the lobby. You stepped inside, and Alexia pressed the button. You watched the doors close and stood beside her. The silence between you wasn't uncomfortable; it was just filled with exhaustion. The complete "emotional rollercoaster" of the day had drained you both. 

The floor numbers climbed and seemingly did not stop doing so. You were tired. You wanted to sleep, but your brain was already spiralling, waiting for the conversation about the room assignments to come.

Were you sharing again? Well, it was kind of obvious you were…. Unless she had only checked you both in because it was easier? Should you ask for a key to a separate room? Something in your gut told you Alexia would be upset if you did so. 

Before your thoughts could settle, her hand brushed against yours. She didn't take it; her fingertips simply rested against your knuckles for a second.

You loved her warmth, loved how soft her skin felt against you. An ache settled in your bones; it said you didn't deserve to touch her today; you didn't deserve her softness. Still, you didn't pull away.

When the doors opened on your floor. Alexia withdrew her hand and stepped out first. She walked down the hallway with familiarity, stopping in front of the exact same door from this morning. Alexia didn't make a big deal out of it; she just held the door open for you as if sharing space again was the most natural thing in the world.

You dropped your bag beside the bed and sat on the edge of the soft, queen-size mattress. And then, before your rational mind could even register the room, the walls, the mattress beneath you, or Alexia's proximity, the match began again.

It replayed behind your eyelids over and over. You saw every angle of it, every bad decision you made.

Alexia was standing in the middle of the room. She was never one to sit when she was thinking too much about something, so instead, she began moving around the room back and forth, moving from one wall to the other like a broken pendulum. 

"We were too passive after halftime," she said, her voice tight with frustration. "Don't you think?"

"I was out of position," you said to the floor.

"We just weren't pressing them enough in the second half… we weren't coordinated. Everyone was doing their own thing… I should have stepped up sooner and reorganised us."

"I read the run wrong," you muttered, ignoring her analysis to focus on your flaw. "I saw the forward making her move, and I waited a second too long… I never wait too long; I don't know what happened!"

Alexia kept pacing, making you dizzy. "We gave them too much space; they had their whole wings to themselves! What was I thinking when I told Esmee to focus on the centre?"

You ignored Alexia right back, locked in your own mind loop… Neither of you was listening to the other. Alexia kept pacing and pacing while you hadn't even taken your shoes off yet. 

"Honestly, it's all my fault," you said bitterly  "If I had been better positioned, a bit further to the left, that ball might never have reached Cata."

That finally made Alexia stop pacing. She turned to look down at you. "You can't blame yourself for–"

"I watched it back during the drive here," you said. "I was the only one between her and Cata–"

"Which means nine other players on that pitch – myself included – failed before she ever got that close to the goal." Alexia countered.

"But I am the full-back, Ale." Your voice came out flat. "If they score, that's on me. That's my job. That's what I'm here to do, you know? To defend, or well, try to. The game is on me."

Something softened in Alexia's expression, and suddenly she didn't look like a captain trying to comfort a teammate. She looked like… You weren't quite ready to name what she looked like.

"Tori, I was too hard on you," she said, her voice gentle. "I'm sorry."

"No, Ale, it was a fair point, okay?" you said, deflecting immediately. "You don't have to be sorry for–"

"Don't say I was just doing my job," she interrupted. "My job doesn't mean being rude to you."

You tilted your head, analysing her. "You correct other players too," you pointed out. "You don't tell them you are sorry."

She seemed almost confused by her own actions. "I-I, well, I always corrected them, yes, but I'm not half as harsh with them as I was with you…I'm not apologising for the note," she said slowly. "I'm apologising for how I said it. There's a difference."

You opened your mouth, but then closed it. The room felt awfully quiet. You wanted to scream into its void just to break the tension.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"I know," you muttered. "Me too."

She looked at the ceiling, then looked at the floor, rubbing her neck.

"I'm the defending midfielder," she said, beginning to vent, "If we don't score, if the press falls apart, if we can't hold possession… that's on me. The whole game is on me," she added, parroting your exact words back.

"Great," you deadpanned. "So we were both terrible at our job, huh?"

"Apparently."

"Wonderful," you said. "Really brilliant. Excellent day's work from both of us."

"Remarkable."

You got up from the mattress and walked past her, going to the window and pulling it open. You breathed in the evening air; it was such lovely weather for such a disaster of a day.  When you turned around a few moments later, Alexia still hadn't sat down. Her arms were crossed.

"I had it," she muttered, pacing again. "We could have the game under control; we knew their pattern… I knew their-"

"You can't track every run perfectly for ninety minutes-" you tried to reason.

"I almost always do," she rolled her eyes. 

"Almost is the word of the day," you said. "Honestly, we were all rubbish today. Stop putting it all on yourself."

"Stop being reasonable," she grumbled. "I just want to be annoyed."

"Then be annoyed."

"I am."

She let herself fall to the bed with a sigh. You wandered over and dropped down beside her, both of you staring up at the cream ceiling. 

"So, we both played badly, we're stuck in this hotel for another night because the bus decided to break down, and it has been a genuinely horrible day."

"Yes," you said simply.

"Good," she said, her side pressing slightly against yours. "So glad we agree on one thing."

"...Were we really just arguing about who failed more?" she continued.

"Yes."

Alexia was about to respond when a knock interrupted her.

Before either of you could even process it, the latch clicked, and the door swung open. In mere seconds, the two of you scrambled up, and by the time the door swung open, you were standing very stiffly near the foot of the bed while Alexia had somehow ended up leaning against the small wooden desk as if she had been there all along doing God knows what.

Vicky stood in the doorway, taking in the room with her sharp, brown eyes. 

"Irene sent me," Vicky announced, completely unfazed by the sudden intrusion she just made, "She said if you don't come down to get something to eat now, Capi, the dining room is going to close,e and you'll have to survive on the vending machine–"

Vicky cut herself off as her eyes shifted from Alexia over to you. She blinked once, her face shining with mischief. 

"--and apparently you too, Y/n," Vicky added, her tone dripping with amusement. "I didn't realise you two were sharing a room again. I thought the plumbing issue got fixed?"

You could feel your face burning under her gaze, your defensive instinct coming up all at once. 

Alexia stared at her, her captain's face locked in place. "Does Irene sending you mean you can just walk into people's rooms, Vicky?"

"Well… I knocked," she said innocently. "So that's not on me."

"Oh, you knocked," Alexia said sarcastically. "Does that mean you can just open the door unannounced?" 

"It wasn't locked!" Vicky argued, as if not really understanding what she did was wrong.

"Next time it will be. You can't just walk in."

Vicky's eyes moved around the room again with (very exaggerated) innocence. She took everything in more slowly this time.

She noticed the slightly rumpled duvet and the way both your bags were scattered around. Vicky looked at you, then Alexia, before locking eyes with you, her absolute favourite target. 

"Right," Vicky said, "Sorry. Well, I'm also here because I'm genuinely upset about the match. I need emotional support. I need my captain… por favor…? Or are you too busy with Y/n? Am I interrupting something crucial? Oh! Maybe Y/n need emotional support as well?"

"Go find Patri," Alexia cut in, pointing a finger toward the corridor before you could snap at Vicky. Now."

"Patri's not–"

"Patri is exactly as much a captain as I am right now. I'm off duty," Alexia interrupted. "Go down to have some dinner. Eat real food. Talk to Patri. Close the door behind you."

"What about your dinner?" Vicky pressed, taking one last look between the two of you. "Aren't you guys coming down?"

Alexia held the bridge of her nose. "Go."

Vicky lingered, just long enough to make it clear she was leaving on her own terms before pulling the door shut behind her. Her footsteps retreated down the corridor. 

Then, a moment later, her voice came bright and happy, echoing through the corridor. "Hey Serra, guess who Capi's in her room with–"

You sat very still, already dreading tomorrow morning's breakfast, when the kids would (undoubtedly) ask whether Vicky had really caught the two of you sharing a room again.

"Vicky knows," you said flatly.

"She doesn't know anything," Alexia replied.

You looked at her. "Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you are trying to make me feel better?"

"I want to make you feel better," Alexia deadpanned. 

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Ugh."

"It's okay," Alexia said, trying to offer you a smile. "She won't tell anyone."

You gave her a side eye. "She literally just shouted down the hallway about us to Clara."

"Yeah, but Clara won't say anything."

You groaned again. "Honestly… whatever. Patri knows. Esmee knows. Kika knows. Now Vicky and Serra know…"

"It's not that bad," Alexia countered.

"Do you want them to know about us? Knowing how they are going to tease us?"

Alexia shrugged. "You just have to glare at them, and then they stop. Problem solved."

"I can't glare at people! I get flustered and embarrassed! I'm not half as intimidating as you are." 

"I'll intimidate them for you," she smiled as if life was all unicorns and rainbows.

"Oh, you're so kind," you said, rolling your eyes. 

When Alexia spoke again, her voice had dropped all of its captain's authority.

"You know what… we should cuddle," she said seriously, which did not match her proposition. "It's been way too long of a day for us."

You studied her up and down. She looked soft and tired, and you needed her to want to touch you.

"Mhmm… okay," you agreed. "Come here."

Alexia shifted a little closer until her shoulder brushed yours. She was testing the waters, seeing if it was really okay. Physical intimacy between you was a rare currency when sex wasn't involved, after all.

After a brief moment, Alexia finally curled into your side, tucking her face against your collarbone as though she had been wanting to do it all day. You stayed very still, adjusting to her weight and her warmth. 

"I really didn't mean to snap at you," she said, her voice muffled

"I know," you said, "I'm serious, Ale. You can stop apologising; it's alright."

"It's not, though," she propped herself up on one elbow so she could look at you. "I won't do it again, vale?"

You chuckled. She was cute. "I hope you don't… you sounded a bit intimidating."

Alexia blushed, which was not the response you had expected from a two-time Ballon d'Or winner. You looked up at her, your mind slipping back into its familiar habit of picking every little thing apart. 

You found yourself thinking about the part of you that had been waiting, somewhere deep and private, for her to finally see you fail.

About how the correction on the pitch had landed like something you had been half-expecting ever since you had arrived in Barcelona, ever since you met Alexia. Somewhere in a tired, masochistic corner of your brain, there had almost been a sense of relief. 

Finally, there it is. Here is the flaw that was always bound to surface.

There was something oddly bittersweet when people were mad or upset at you.  Something strangely comforting about disappointing people. How fucked up have you chilhood been for you to feel comfort in that?

It felt safe to know you had made a mistake, because it meant people would stop expecting things from you. They would know you were incompetent, bad and imperfect... except Alexia wasn't looking at you as if you were any of those things right now. She wasn't looking at you like that at all. 

Weird. 

You didn't want to talk to her about it, though.

You kept those messy thoughts to yourself.  Instead, you let yourself stay with her, cuddling, sharing very sweet, absent-minded kisses that barely lasted longer than half a second. But right as you were beginning to melt into her body, to relax, Alexia made a strange face and pulled away.

"Hey, what–" Before you could ask what was wrong, she disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door, murmuring about how she was going to be right back.

You frowned and sat on the bed, listening to the sound of running water. Should you go up and knock on the door? What had happened? You chose to stay put and let Alexia do her thing.

While you waited, your thoughts drifted back to the book you had been reading earlier that week – Madonna in a fur coat – when the water stopped, and the bathroom door opened.

Alexia stepped out, looking, somehow, even more grumpy than when she had gone in. She stood in the doorway and looked at you miserably.

"I got my period," she announced flatly. "I wasn't due for three days. This day needs to end. I'm serious."

You blinked up at her, sitting up a little as you abandoned Sabahattin Ali's universe. "Oh… your peri–"

"I think you're messing with my hormones," she added, crossing her arms. "I haven't been this early in years!"

You pressed your lips together.

"...I'm sorry? I didn't mean to mess with your menstrual cycle."

She pouted at you. "You don't sound sincere at all."

"I'm sorry I don't sound sincere," you said. You couldn't help but think she was rather adorable like this, all pouty. "Do you need anything? Want me to get your bag or–"

"I don't have anything with me, tori. Nada " She gestured helplessly at herself, as if to illustrate the full extent of the situation. "I don't have pads, tampons, nothing! We were supposed to be back in Barcelona by now. I didn't plan for this to happen!"

"Okay, baby, hold on," you said, walking to your own bag. "I'm supposed to have stuff here somewhere, just–" You unzipped your bag and started rummaging through it, searching for a pad, and while on it, you found medicine, one of your little notebooks, the good pen you had been looking for ages, and then, finally, you pulled out the pad. It was a bit creased, but it would do its job.

You walked over and held it out to her.

"I've got a few more if you need them," you said. "They are in the internal left pocket of my bag… and sorry, I don't have any tampons. I can go out for them if you want?"

"No, this is good enough, thank you," she muttered, the pout still holding strong.  "I'm just frustrated! I'm literally thirty-two, I should know by now to always carry tampons with me wherever I go…"

"Ah, come on, don't do that, Ale", you said gently. "It came three days early; you are allowed to be caught off guard, don't stress over it, yeah? Just get whatever you need from my bag. I'm sure the girls can help you out, too."

She nodded. "Thank you, torito." Then she walked back into the bathroom. 

When she came back out, you closed the distance between you without thinking. Your hands settled on her waist, and you felt her go less rigid beneath your touch, the tension in her shoulders releasing one layer at a time. She pressed herself back into you, her head on your shoulder. 

"Feeling a little better?" you asked.

"No, I'm devastated," She pouted into your neck. "And it's all your fault, tori."

"Devastated?" You teased her "That's a big word."

"You are not helping."

"Sorry… let me try again. How is it my fault you got your period?" you said, your voice sweet. "That doesn't make sense, sweetheart."

"You make my body go all wrong," she said.

"I do?"

"Uhum."

Your thumb traced slow circles against her waist as you gently guided the two of you back onto the bed. "You make my mind go all wrong. Guess we're even, then?"

Alexia was quiet for a moment, but then she spoke.  "So… I forgive you, and you forgive me?" she murmured. "For messing each other up?"

"Yes, bebé," you whispered, kissing her cheek.  "I forgive you, and you forgive me. You are such a good martyr," you said fondly. "Has anyone told you that?"

"Only when I'm on my period," she mumbled.

"Hm," you chuckled.

Alexia's breathing had slowed against your shoulder. You were waiting for the request, almost certain she was about to send you out for an emergency trip to buy her whatever she might need. 

"...I'm waiting," you said finally.

"Mhmm… for what?" she murmured.

"For you to send me out for a heat pad. Or ibuprofen. Chocolate. That's usually how this goes. Isn't it?"

She lifted her head enough to look at you; she was a bit tired, her eyelids were heavy. "I don't eat chocolate on weekdays. And I don't usually need heating pads."

You looked at her. "Ah, you don't get cramps?"

"I do sometimes, but they are very, very mild," she said. "I barely feel anything most of the time."

"Oh. That's great."

"Yeah, but I do get light headaches sometimes," she continued. "Barça's doctor told me it's because of low iron, so sometimes I have to take some tablets."

"Poor baby," you murmured, pressing another kiss to her temple.

"I'm waiting too," Alexia said after a moment, nosing at your skin. 

"For what?"

"For you to tell me about your period." She said, then she moved like a clingy cat and pressed her cheek against yours. "I just told you about mine; it's only fair, sí?"

"You think it's that easy to get information out of me, capi?" You smirked, teasingly. 

"No," she said, her hand drifting lazily up and down your side before coming to rest against your hipbone, and then she tucked her face against your chest. "That's why I'm asking nicely. Please. Be nice to me. I'm bleeding. I'm in pain."

"You just told me you're barely cramping."

"Yes," she said with great dignity, "but you said I was a good martyr. So this is me being a good martyr… Por favor? Tell me?"

You exhaled and looked at the ceiling, giving what she wanted. "Fine, Putellas. I get bad periods.

… Crickets. 

"Okay, and…? That's all you're giving me?" 

"Well, yes. That's it. I bleed a lot and have bad cramps. The absolute worst mood you've ever seen, too… I'm not exactly a joy to be around."

"Hmm," she sounded a bit suspicious. "Really? I've never noticed any of it, and we've known each other for what? A year?"

"I think I'm just very good at hiding it," you said proudly, but alexia didn't match your energy. 

Alexia looked up at you and didn't smile. "You say that like it's a good thing."

You blushed. "I thought it was."

"I don't think it is."

"Oh." You didn't really expect that answer.

Was there one thing you did in life right?

"I mean… I've never noticed you getting more sensitive around that time, or more emotional." She tilted her head slightly against your shoulder. 

"I would have thought I'd notice. I should've, shouldn't I?" She furrowed. "I pay attention to you… I even know when Vicky is on hers because she cries at literally everything, and she doesn't even have to tell me."

"Well, I don't get sensitive," you explained. "So that must be the reason why you never noticed. I don't really cry much."

"No?"

"No, I just get a bit angry, impatient. That kind of stuff."

"Angry how?" She asked.

Alexia had apparently decided that tonight was the night she was going to ask every single question she had been collecting for months. 

"Just… well, just angry." You said with a small shrug, searching for the right scientific term and coming up with nothing. "Everything irritates me, and tiny things suddenly feel much more urgent than they actually are. That kind of anger."

Alexia didn't say anything immediately, which meant she was thinking about it properly, turning it over in her head.

"So right now," she said slowly. "With the game, and the broken bus, and all of it… You aren't–"

"I'm not on my period," you clarified with a smile. "Unfortunately, this is just me on my good day."

She hummed. "So if you were on your period–"

"Today would have been exponentially worse," you confirmed. "Yes."

"Hmmm… " She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I'll make a note."

"Please don't."

"I'm your captain," she said teasingly. "I have to know these things for scheduling purposes."

"You don't schedule anything. Ever. That is literally not your job."

"As captain, I have a great deal of influence when it comes to scheduling," she replied proudly.

"Oh," you said flatly. "What do you do? Glare at people until they move training?"

"Do you always have to be this sarcastic?"

"Sorry."

"Anyway… tell me next time when you are due," she said matter-of-factly. "Actually… I have a better idea! We should share a period tracking app!"

"Absolutely not." You shook your head immediately. "Nope."

"But-"

"I will leave this bed right now," you threatened. "At once."

In response, she tightened her arm around your waist, pulling you closer to her. Alexia's breathing was even out against your shoulder again, before her voice cut through the silence. 

"You know what? Since we're in a talking mood…"

"You're in a talking mood," you interrupted her. "I'm definitely not."

"...you haven't talked about your ex since that night," she continued, ignoring you. 

Your stomach turned at that. "You're awfully curious tonight."

"I like getting to know people."

"Funny of you to say that," you said. "I'm pretty sure everyone on the team would tell me they don't remember the last time you played personal quiz with them."

"Okay," she said, without missing a beat. "Maybe I like getting to know you."

You smiled despite yourself, which she definitely felt against your shoulder.

"Oh, are you into me or something?" You teased. "That's so gay of you."

"You're changing the subject," she rolled her eyes, blushing. "Again."

"I'm trying to," you admitted. 

"Don't try." She moved, settling more firmly against your body, as if to make clear she wasn't going anywhere. "Let me propose an exercise, torito. One where you don't overthink every single word before it leaves your mouth."

You pouted. "I don't think my brain works like that."

"You can try."

You sighed in defeat. "I'll tell you about my ex if you tell me about yours."

Alexia chuckled. "That's not how it works. I always talk to you about myself, sí? I've already done my part. You're the one who drops a bomb in my lap every two weeks and then goes completely silent."

You rolled your eyes.

She won.

A/n: Hiii!! I hope you guys liked this chapter! I had lots of fun writing it hehehe; they are just so endearing and fucked up in the head!! I personally love how Ale goes all captain with the kids, and then she melts with Tori.

Come talk with me about it!! Talking about fic really helps me with motivation and ideas, hehe