gracieslatte

[gracieslatte]

i mean i already knew she was mommy anyway 🥱

[gracieslatte]

I didn’t take the time to look at that Ona video earlier but oh my she is out of this world Lucy so so lucky

i meannn

[gracieslatte]

You Hate Me

Hiiiii - so I thought I'd have a little break between requests and so I wrote this. It's angsty and I probably won't have a part 2 cos I like the way it ended and I'm not even sure where I would take it to be honest. Anyways, I hope you like it <3<3<3

Lucy Bronze x sister!Reader

Description: Lucy has always hated R and she just wants to know why

Word count: 7.2k

You felt like an outsider in your family your whole life. You were the youngest sibling by quite some way. Lucy was 12 when you were born. She didn’t really want another younger sister. She was happy with the way things were. She was the middle child - crazy and reckless with a passion for sport that would take her all over the globe.

Her parents already struggled with money. She and Jorge already had to do jobs around the neighbourhood to help out wherever possible. Sophie was thinking about what she could do when she moved up to secondary school. They couldn’t handle a baby. They couldn’t handle the extra costs you would bring. Would she have to give up football? She knew it was selfish to think of that, but football was her life. She couldn’t … wouldn’t … give it up without a fight.

For Lucy, football wasn't just a pastime; it was her escape, her freedom, and the one thing in her chaotic life that she had complete control over. On the field, she could be anyone she wanted – strong, fast, unstoppable. The thought of losing that terrified her. It wasn't just about the sport itself; it was about the future she had envisioned. Scouts had already begun to take notice of her, murmurs of potential scholarships floated in the air, and dreams of playing professionally, of leaving this small, suffocating town behind, had started to take shape.

But now, with a new baby on the way, everything seemed uncertain. The baby meant more bills, more attention diverted away from her, and likely, more sacrifices to be made. The prospect gnawed at her, a constant weight in the back of her mind. She didn’t want to be angry at you – after all, it wasn’t your fault – but the resentment was there, simmering beneath the surface. Every time she laced up her boots, the fear that it could be for the last time haunted her.

The pressure at home only seemed to increase. Her parents were stretched thin, their arguments about money becoming more frequent and more intense. The once-occasional requests for her and Jorge to contribute had now turned into expectations. It was no longer about just helping out; it was about survival. Lucy found herself picking up extra shifts at the local café, babysitting for the neighbours, and doing whatever odd jobs she could find, all while trying to keep up with her schoolwork and football practice. She was exhausted, but she refused to let it show.

At night, when the house was quiet and the weight of the day settled heavily on her shoulders, she would lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her mind racing. She couldn't stop thinking about what might happen if she was forced to give up football. It wasn’t just a game to her – it was her way out, her shot at something better. Without it, she feared she would be stuck in this life forever, trapped by the same financial struggles that had plagued her parents.

As your arrival grew closer, the tension in the house became palpable. Her parents tried to reassure her that things would be okay, that they would find a way to make it work, but their words felt hollow. Lucy could see the worry in their eyes, the strain in their voices. They were trying their best, but their best might not be enough. And that terrified her.

Lucy made a silent vow to herself: no matter what happened, she would find a way to keep playing. Even if it meant waking up before dawn to practice on her own, even if it meant working twice as hard to make up for the lost time, she wouldn't let go of her dream. Football was more than just a sport to her; it was her lifeline, her hope for a future that didn’t involve the same struggles her parents faced.

She knew it would be a battle, but Lucy had never been one to back down from a fight. If keeping her dream alive meant fighting harder than she ever had before, then so be it. She was ready for whatever came her way, even if that meant taking on the world with the weight of her family’s struggles on her shoulders.

There were complications. Mum had felt something was wrong. You were born too early. That’s what her dad had said one Thursday afternoon when they got home from school. Lucy could see the strain on her parents' faces as they tried to stay positive, but the cracks were beginning to show. The early birth meant more than just an unexpected arrival – it meant weeks, maybe even months, of additional stress. There would be doctors' appointments, hospital visits, and possibly medical bills that they wouldn't be able to afford. Mum and Dad would need to take more time off work, and that meant even less money coming into the house. They were already stretched thin, barely making ends meet, and this was another blow they couldn’t afford.

For Lucy, it felt like the family was being pulled even further apart. She knew what more time off work for her mum meant – less money for groceries, fewer new things, and more unpaid bills piling up on the kitchen table. The thought of how this would affect them all was overwhelming. Dad’s tired eyes and Mum’s forced smiles told her everything she needed to know – they were worried, really worried.

And as much as Lucy tried to focus on her own life – school, football, friends – she couldn’t shake the growing sense of responsibility she felt. She saw how hard her parents were working, how much they were sacrificing, and it made her want to do more, to somehow lessen the burden that had fallen on their shoulders. She picked up extra shifts at her part-time job and offered to help more around the house, even though she was already stretched thin. She stopped asking for new things, for trips, for anything that might add to the growing financial strain.

But no matter how much she tried to help, the reality was inescapable. The early birth meant more than just financial strain – it meant that your health would be a constant concern, at least for a while. The house became quieter, the usual buzz of activity replaced by a tension that Lucy couldn’t ignore. Conversations were hushed, and there was a heaviness in the air, a kind of unspoken worry that everyone carried with them.

She remembered how, before all this, her parents would talk about the future with cautious optimism – how they would make it work, how they would find a way to manage. But now, the future seemed uncertain, clouded by the reality of hospital visits and medical expenses. The joy that had once been associated with your arrival was overshadowed by the fear of what might come next.

You had turned out fine. You were discharged from the NICU six weeks later. You were a little small, a little underdeveloped, but you were fine. The doctors’ visits still happened regularly until you were about three years old, but then you were declared fit as a fiddle. A perfectly normal, healthy child.

Except you weren’t, or at least you didn’t feel like it. From an early age, you could sense that something was off. You couldn’t quite understand it back then, but you felt it in the way Lucy would close her bedroom door just as you toddled over, eager to join in whatever she was doing. You felt it in the way she would snatch things out of your hands, things you just wanted to look at, things she was showing Sophie and Jorge without a second thought. The sting of rejection was something you became all too familiar with, even before you could fully comprehend what it meant to be unwanted.

You didn’t understand why Lucy seemed to dislike you so much. You were just a child, desperate for her attention, for her approval. But no matter how hard you tried, you could never seem to break through the wall she had built between you. You remember watching her from a distance, her laughter and excitement as she talked about football with Sophie and Jorge. You wished you could be a part of that world, but it always felt like there was an invisible barrier keeping you out.

Your parents, older than those of your friends, were tired. You could see it in their eyes, in the way they moved through the day with a sort of weary determination. They did their best, you knew that. But their best often wasn’t enough. They were stretched thin – between work, bills, and keeping up with the demands of raising four children, there wasn’t much left over for you. The attention you craved, the affection you needed, was often redirected elsewhere – toward Lucy’s burgeoning football career, Jorge’s new hobbies, Sophie’s interests.

You lived in hand-me-downs – clothes that didn’t quite fit right, toys that had lost their newness long before they reached you. You quickly learned to ask for little, to keep your wants and needs to yourself. Birthdays became a delicate dance of low expectations. You remember the time you asked for that big Barbie dollhouse when you were five. You had seen it in a catalog and had imagined how much fun it would be, but when you shyly mentioned it, the reaction was swift and harsh. Lucy shouted at you, her voice filled with anger and frustration. “Are you kidding? We can’t afford that! Stop being so selfish!” The words hit you like a slap, and you learned that day to make your wishes smaller, quieter, more manageable.

It wasn’t just the material things, though. It was the sense that you were always in the way, that your presence was more of a burden than a joy. The more you tried to blend in, the more you felt invisible. Your parents were simply too tired, too overwhelmed to notice the small things – like the way your face lit up when you finally mastered riding your bike, or how proud you were when you brought home a picture you had drawn at school. There was no one to share those victories with, no one to tell you that you were doing well.

Lucy’s disdain only seemed to grow as you got older. She was focused, driven, her eyes set on her future in football. Every spare penny went toward her training, her gear, her travel expenses for matches. And you, you were just there, existing in the shadow of her ambition. It wasn’t that she went out of her way to be cruel; it was more that she simply didn’t have the space in her life for you. You were the uninvited guest, the afterthought.

You remember the looks – the ones she would give you when you tried to talk to her, or when you reached out for some connection. They were cold, distant, as if you were a stranger in your own home. It made you feel small, insignificant, like you didn’t belong. You tried to be helpful, to stay out of her way, but nothing you did seemed to change how she felt about you.

It was confusing, the way you were treated differently. Sophie and Jorge seemed to get along just fine with Lucy. They had their own interests, their own ways of bonding with her, and you were always the odd one out. It hurt, more than you could put into words. You wanted to be close to them, to be part of the sibling camaraderie you saw in other families, but it always felt just out of reach.

As the years went by, you withdrew into yourself. You learned to entertain yourself, to find comfort in solitude, because trying to fit into their world was too painful. The isolation was lonely, but it was safer than risking the rejection that had become all too familiar. You built your own little world, where you didn’t have to worry about whether or not you were wanted, where you could be yourself without fear of being turned away.

You were thirteen when you were gifted something that changed your life. It came at a time when the house had finally quieted down, the once chaotic energy of your siblings replaced by an unfamiliar stillness. All three of them – Lucy, Sophie, and Jorge – had moved out, each one carving out their own path, their own life away from the confines of your childhood home. Lucy was about to move to Lyon, Sophie had landed her dream job in a bustling city, and Jorge was travelling, always chasing the next big adventure. They were all living their best lives, while you were left behind, navigating the echoes of their absence.

With them gone, the purse strings had loosened a little. The financial pressures that had always weighed so heavily on your parents seemed to ease with each sibling's departure. There were fewer mouths to feed, fewer expenses to cover. For the first time, there was a little breathing room – a bit of space for something more than just the basics. And in that space, something unexpected happened.

On your thirteenth birthday, your parents handed you a small, neatly wrapped box. The excitement you had long suppressed bubbled up cautiously, a mix of anticipation and doubt. You had learned to keep your expectations low, to shield yourself from disappointment, but this time, something felt different. As you carefully peeled away the wrapping paper, your heart skipped a beat. Inside was a camera – an old, second-hand one, but to you, it was a treasure beyond measure.

Your parents had saved up for it, they explained, seeing how much time you spent doodling and drawing, how your eyes would light up whenever you saw something beautiful. They wanted to give you something that was just yours, something that could help you express yourself, to capture the world as you saw it.

The camera became your constant companion. You took it everywhere, eager to capture the beauty you saw in even the smallest things – the way the light filtered through the leaves of the trees in your backyard, the subtle smile on your mother’s face when she thought no one was looking, the old, weathered buildings in town that seemed to whisper stories of a time long past. Through the lens, you began to see the world differently, noticing details and moments that had always slipped by unnoticed.

But more than that, the camera gave you a voice. It allowed you to tell your own stories, to frame your own experiences in a way that was meaningful to you. It was your way of processing the complicated emotions that had built up over the years – the loneliness, the longing, the sense of not quite fitting in. With each click of the shutter, you were able to capture a piece of yourself, to express feelings that had always been too difficult to put into words.

And as you delved deeper into photography, something else began to happen. You started to see yourself differently. The shy, withdrawn girl who had always felt like an outsider was slowly transforming into someone with a purpose, with a passion. The camera gave you confidence, a sense of control over your own narrative that you had never felt before. It didn’t matter that you had grown up in the shadow of your siblings, or that you had often felt neglected and overlooked. With your camera, you were finally able to step out of that shadow and into your own light.

Your parents noticed the change in you. They saw how the camera brought you out of your shell, how it gave you something to look forward to, something to be proud of. They encouraged you, in their own quiet way, to keep going, to explore this new passion. For the first time, they seemed to truly see you – not just as their youngest child, but as an individual with your own dreams, your own talents.

At fifteen, you were asked to participate in the local exhibition. You had won a competition for the local paper, and this was the prize. ‘Alnwick by the Locals’ – it was to be put on display up at the castle. You had asked Lucy if she could make the trip over from France.

Lucy had been away for so long that you weren't sure if she'd even come. Her life in France was a whirlwind of training and matches, and the little requests you made felt insignificant against the backdrop of her bustling career. Still, you hoped – hoped that this time, she might see things differently.

When the day of the exhibition arrived, you could hardly contain your excitement. The castle was adorned with your photographs, each framed image capturing slices of life in your small town. You stood by your display, anxiously scanning the crowd for any sign of Lucy. Your heart raced with a blend of nerves and anticipation.

As the afternoon wore on, there was still no sign of her. You tried to push the disappointment aside, focusing instead on the visitors who stopped by to admire your work. They complimented your eye for detail and the way you had managed to capture the essence of Alnwick. Each positive comment felt like a small victory, a validation of the passion and effort you had poured into your photography.

You were losing hope fast. She wasn’t coming. Of course she wouldn’t come. She hadn’t responded to your text message asking her to come and giving her a date. She hadn’t responded to the email you had sent with her ticket attached. All she had to do was book the flights. It had been luck that it landed on a free weekend for her. You wouldn’t have asked otherwise.

As the afternoon stretched on, your excitement began to wane, replaced by a creeping sense of disappointment. Each passing minute seemed to amplify the absence of the one person you had hoped would be there to witness your moment of triumph. You forced yourself to stay positive, engaging with the visitors who complimented your work, but the empty space where Lucy should have been felt like a physical ache.

You wandered through the exhibition, making small talk with guests and answering their questions about your photographs. The praise for your work was a small comfort, but it couldn’t fully compensate for the gap left by Lucy’s absence. The castle, once a place of eager anticipation, now felt like a grand but empty stage, highlighting the solitude you felt.

By the time the exhibition was winding down, the weight of Lucy’s no-show had settled heavily on your shoulders. You packed up your things with a mix of resignation and sadness, feeling the sting of what could have been. Your parents, who had come to support you, tried to lift your spirits with kind words and encouragement, but their efforts fell short of erasing the feeling of emptiness. Your other siblings had turned up. Your sister-in-law had appeared, holding a bunch of flowers and looking around the space in wonder. Why couldn’t she have been your actual sister?

In the quiet of the car ride home, you tried to focus on the positive aspects of the day – the success of the exhibition, the connections you had made with people who appreciated your work. But it was hard not to remember that Lucy hadn’t turned up.

Back at home, you retreated to your room, muttering something about being tired and disappearing upstairs before anyone could stop you. Your room was covered in photographs. You didn’t have many of you as a child – a downside of being the youngest of four to very tired parents you supposed. There was one that you kept pinned above your bed. It was the day you were brought home from the hospital. You were in Jorge’s arms as Lucy and Sophie stood either side of him, all of them beaming brightly. You were fairly sure it was the only photo you had of Lucy smiling at you. The rest of the photographs were taken by you. Jorge and your father. Sophie and your mother. Your parents in the stands waiting for Lucy to play. Narla chasing a ball. Your grandparents looking out to sea.

You knew opening social media wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was the third picture you saw. Lucy, sitting next to Keira and Georgia – wide smiles and happy faces. She was in Manchester. She had made the trip over to England after all. Just not to see you. The image was a punch to the gut. Lucy, in a casual outfit, her hair pulled back, was surrounded by her friends, their joy on full display. You could almost hear their laughter through the screen, see the ease and comfort of their togetherness. The pain in your chest grew even more.

You hadn’t been told she was moving back to Manchester. Mum had mentioned it in passing, commenting that she was so excited to finally be able to see her daughter play with comparative ease. You had lied when she asked you why you looked confused – making up something about homework you had remembered you needed to complete. The pain was something you were so used to by now, that you were surprised it still hurt. The last time you saw her at home was Christmas. She had missed your birthday completely – again. But that was fine. You could play happy families for a few weeks whilst she was back. You had been to a few football matches for hers – only the big ones. The Champions League finals mainly. The rest of the time you made up excuses. Homework was a reliable one. You were just too busy. Exams were around the corner, you couldn’t afford to take the time off, even for just one weekend.

You had become adept at masking your feelings, but the truth was, each time you saw Lucy’s life in the media, each time you heard about her successes and adventures, it reinforced the distance between you. It was as if she existed in a different world, a world where you didn’t quite belong. Even when she was physically present, her mind seemed to be elsewhere, her focus entirely on her career and her own life.

You hadn’t been told that Lucy would be moving to Barcelona either. Another thing she failed to mention. You knew that Lucy and your parents met up in Manchester regularly – it was easier for them to make the trip to watch her games that it was for her to travel to you. But you would have thought she would’ve mentioned it at the Euros. The night after they won was the longest you had spent in her presence since you were about twelve. She had willingly drawn you into a side hug as your parents snapped a photo of all their children. Looking back, it was clearly the alcohol in her system, and the adrenaline high she was still running on.

You had been dragged over to Australia too. Not that you let your parents know about your distaste in going. You couldn’t do that to them. They knew that Lucy and you had a strained relationship, but not how deep the cuts ran. You would not be the one to tell them that either.  It would break their hearts to find out that their favourite daughter, and their youngest child barely co-existed together. No, you were more than happy to put up a front for them. They had given you everything, it was the least you could do.

“Hi, I’m Ona, it’s nice to meet you.” She smiled amicably, a bit nervous perhaps, but she seemed nice enough.

“Hola, Soy la hermana de Lucy … o la llamas Lucía?” She blinked, startled by your Spanish.

“Tú hablas español?” she asked impressed.

“Un poco, hice español A-level en la escuela. Pensé que sería una buena manera-” You joked, ignoring the strange looks from Lucy.

“Ona, c’mon, I think your parents want you.” Lucy’s voice cut through yours, effectively cutting you off.

You had been so hopeful, so eager to make a connection, but the moment had been abruptly cut short by Lucy’s interference. At the time, you had shrugged it off, thinking it was just Lucy’s usual impatience. Now, however, it seemed like yet another piece in the puzzle of Lucy’s world that you never fully understood.

The news of not-quite-breakup with Keira, and her new relationship with Ona reached you indirectly, through snippets of social media posts and the occasional mention by your parents. They were often caught up in their own busy lives, struggling to balance the constant demands of work and home. Conversations about Lucy's new life was interspersed with discussions about their own challenges, leaving little room for deeper insights or personal connection.

Ona, who you had briefly met in the whirlwind of the World Cup, was now a fixture in Lucy’s life. The contrast between their lives and yours felt even starker. While Lucy was jet-setting across Europe and building a new chapter in Barcelona, you were back in your small town, navigating the complexities of your own world through the lens of your camera.

It was the biggest day of your young life. You had been asked to put up ten photographs on display in London. Your photographs were going to be seen in London. By paying members of the public. The significance of the event was almost overwhelming. You had worked tirelessly to curate the best of your collection, selecting pieces that told a story, captured emotions, and showcased your unique perspective.

The morning of the exhibition, you arrived at the gallery with a mixture of nerves and excitement. The building was impressive – an elegant space with high ceilings and large windows that let in natural light, perfect for showcasing art. You were greeted by the curator, who showed you to your designated space and helped you set up your work. It was surreal to see your photographs hanging on the walls, each one carefully framed and lit to perfection.

You had only met Ona a few times, when she had been brought to England to meet your family. She was kind and sweet. Maybe it was because you were relatively close in age, but you couldn’t shift the familiar sting. Why couldn’t she have been your sister instead? It was the summer, the Olympics in full swing, so you knew it was too much to ask for her to be there. But you couldn’t help the small bubble of hope that Lucy would turn up.

You had it on good authority from Keira, Leah and Georgia that she had agreed to go. Ona’s game was due to finish at 4 pm the day before opening night. The journey would probably be tiring for Lucy, but she had promised her friends she would be their. If not for you then to see them before pre-season started up again.

The day of the exhibition arrived, and you were enveloped in the excitement of seeing your work displayed in such a prestigious venue. The gallery buzzed with activity as people streamed in, their voices a mix of appreciation and curiosity. The atmosphere was electric, and you tried to focus on enjoying the moment, even though the small, nagging hope that Lucy would show up lingered at the back of your mind.

Hours passed, and as the evening drew closer, you began to accept that she might not make it. The crowd was engaged and appreciative, and the positive feedback was reassuring, but the absence of your sister was a constant ache. You tried to push it away, concentrating instead on the connections you were making and the compliments you were receiving.

Your parents had come, and their pride was evident in their smiles and the way they spoke about your work. They marvelled at how far you had come and how talented you were. Their support and encouragement were the best comfort you could have asked for, and you felt a sense of accomplishment in sharing this achievement with them.

Just as the event was winding down, you were approached by Keira, Leah, and Georgia, who were all beaming with excitement. They had come to show their support and to catch up with you after the event. Why couldn’t Lucy do the same thing? Did she really hate you so much that she couldn’t even fake it for a few hours for the sake of her sister?

“We told Lucy about the exhibition,” Leah said, her eyes twinkling with excitement as she looked around the space.

“She said she would come back for it.” Keira added, her tone warm but carrying a hint of concern.

Keira had always been the one who was more in tune with the undercurrents of relationships, and she knew how complicated things were between you and Lucy. She was the only one who truly understood the depth of the tension that simmered beneath the surface. She had offered to take you and Lucy out for lunch – letting your parents rest after the long day of travel.

During that lunch, Lucy’s walls were visibly up, and her responses were curt and distant. The conversation often felt forced, with long pauses and polite but empty exchanges. It was strange Keira had watched with a mix of frustration and disbelief as Lucy struggled to engage, offering only grunts and monosyllabic words in response. She had never seen Lucy like that. She was usually great with kids. She usually revelled in making them laugh and enjoy their time with her. She had watched you sink further and further into yourself, until she was the only one speaking, a far cry from how dinners with Lucy’s family normally looked.

When the subject of family came up in conversation, Keira’s knowledge of the strained dynamics between you and your sister was never far from her mind. Keira’s attempt to mend the gaps had been a sincere effort, but it usually just ended in a fight between Lucy and her girlfriend. You often wondered why you couldn’t have had Keira as a sister instead.

“But … we haven’t heard anything from her today.” Georgia confessed; her voice tinged with concern.

Keira, ever the perceptive one, gave Georgia a sharp nudge, a silent reminder to tread carefully. She glanced over at you, who had been trying to mask your disappointment with a forced smile, though the tightness around your eyes betrayed your emotions.

“I’m sure she’s just caught up with something,” Keira said, trying to sound reassuring. “She’ll be here soon, I promise.” Her words were meant to comfort, but Keira couldn’t shake the worry that Lucy’s absence might be more than just an oversight. You knew otherwise, Lucy wouldn’t be coming.

Leah, sensing the shift in mood, quickly changed the subject. “Your photos are absolutely stunning,” she said, her enthusiasm genuine.

“Thanks, Le,” you smiled back at her. “Did you see the one of you guys?”

“What? I’m … we’re in here?” She clearly hadn’t made her way to the back of the room yet.

“Yeh, it was after the Euros.”

Leah and Keira were standing together on the makeshift dancefloor, a vibrant space that had been hastily set up for the occasion. Their laughter and the rhythm of the music filled the air as they danced with uninhibited joy. Wrapped around their shoulders were colourful flags, their bright hues fluttering with every movement. The flags added an extra splash of festivity to their energetic performance.

Amidst the swirl of movement, Georgia bounded up to them with infectious enthusiasm. She launched herself into the scene, her head playfully peeking out from between Leah and Keira. Her excitement was palpable, adding a new dimension of liveliness to the group. The trio's shared joy and friendship were evident in their spontaneous and carefree expressions.

“Wow,” Leah breathed. She was in genuine awe. She remembered that day like it was yesterday, she remembered the moment she saw the camera being aimed at her, a quiet but smiling you behind it.

Keira joined her, leaning in to get a closer look. “You really captured the energy of that moment. It’s like I can hear the music just looking at it.”

You smiled at their reactions, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. “I’m glad you like it. That was one of those moments where everything just felt perfect, you know? The music, the people, the atmosphere. It was one of those nights that you just want to hold on to forever.”

Georgia nodded, her smile widening. “And you’ve done just that. It’s not just a photograph; it’s a piece of that night.”

Keira looked around at the rest of the exhibition. “Seriously, all of your work is amazing. You’ve got such a unique perspective. It’s like each photo has its own story.”

“Thank you, Kei. Coming from you … that means a lot.” Keira was the closest thing you had to a sister that cared. Not that Sophie didn’t care, but she had a similar indifference that Lucy had. It wasn’t as bad, but you only really saw her on the holidays and if she ever came home for a weekend.  

As the night came to an end, you couldn’t shake off the lingering disappointment. The exhibition had been a success, but the empty space left by Lucy’s absence felt like a heavy shadow. Another milestone in your life had come and gone, and once again, you hadn’t been important enough for her to show up. You couldn’t fathom why she hated you so much. She showed up to Sophie’s things, and Jorge’s. Why not yours?

The weight of this realisation grew heavier with each passing moment. As you the taxi took you back to your hotel, the quiet of the car only seemed to amplify your sadness. By the time you arrived, you were in no mood to face the evening alone with your thoughts. Maybe ordering a bottle of the strongest thing they had from the hotel bar wasn’t your best idea. But you were alone and sad after what should’ve been the best day of your life.

The hotel room was big and expensive – your one treat to yourself in congratulations. A luxury suite in a five-star hotel in London. The alcohol burned your throat, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to sit with your emotions any longer. You wanted to stop feeling. Anything to numb the pain that had been a constant your whole life.

You weren’t sure when the idea came to you. One minute you were on the hotel balcony, wallowing in your sadness with the bottle in your hands, the next you were pulling out your phone. You weren’t expecting her to answer. You weren’t even sure she had your number saved.

When her voicemail finally picked up, the sound of her voice – a cheerful and upbeat recording informing you she couldn’t make it to the phone and to leave a message for her – felt like a final slap in the face.

“Luce … Lucy … Lucia Roberta. It’s me,” you giggled, the alcohol making you feel oddly detached from the situation. “By me, I mean your sister. Not Sophie, your other sister. Y/N … you’re probably not even going to listen to this, so I can probably say what I want to.”

You took a deep breath, struggling to keep your words coherent. “I don’t know why you couldn’t make it tonight. Actually, no that’s a lie. I do know why you didn’t come tonight. You hate me. That’s why.”

Your voice wavered, and you wiped a stray tear from your cheek. “Remember that time you said you’d come to my year 6 school play? You didn’t make it. And the Alnwick Castle exhibition thingy? And my GCSE results meal? And my A-level party? And my uni send-off? I know you didn’t want another sister. I don’t think I even appear on your Wikipedia page. I know ‘cos I use it to keep updated on your life. You never tell me anything so.” You took another shuddering breath and a swig from the bottle.

“What was it this time? Did Ona need you? I know you’re at the Olympics for her. I like Ona. She’s really nice. And funny. And pretty. I wish she was my sister instead of you. Or Keira… Keira was good… is good. She actually cares about me. She showed up today.” A bitter chuckle escaped your lips, and you shook your head, trying to push away the tears.

“I don’t know what I ever did to you, Lucy.” You stared at the dark hotel room around you. “I don’t know why I even bother sometimes. Maybe I should just stop pretending that you’re ever going to be there for me. Maybe I should just stop hoping for something that’s never going to happen.”

Your voice softened, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I’ve tried to be understanding, to see things from your side. I know you’re busy, and I get that life doesn’t always align. But it’s like I’m always on the outside of your world, never really part of it. It’s exhausting, waiting for something that never comes.”

A long silence followed as you struggled to gather your thoughts. “Anyway, I don’t expect you to call back. I don’t expect you to make any grand gestures or anything like that. I really need to stop expecting anything from you. I just needed to say it. I needed to get it off my chest, even if it’s to your voicemail.”

You let out a long sigh, feeling a strange mix of relief and sadness. “Take care, Lucy. I hope things are going well with you, even if I’m not a part of it and you hate me for the rest of your life. I really do.”

It was another hot day in France. The sun beat down on Lyon, the heatwaves fogging the horizon. The cobblestone streets shimmered in the intense light, and the usually bustling markets were quieter than usual, with vendors seeking refuge in the shade of their awnings. The air was thick with the scent of fresh baguettes and ripe fruit, but even these familiar aromas seemed to waver in the oppressive heat.

Outside, the rhythmic clatter of a bicycle's wheels on the pavement was one of the few sounds cutting through the heat. The cyclist, a young woman with a wide-brimmed hat, pedalled slowly, her face glistening with perspiration. She was on a mission to find a place where the heat was more bearable, perhaps a hidden garden or a cool courtyard where she could rest and escape the relentless sun.

Ona looked back towards Lucy, who was still in bed, her dark hair splayed out over the pillow like a cascade of midnight. The room was filled with a soft morning light that filtered through the thin curtains, casting a warm glow on the walls. Ona smiled, feeling a sense of contentment that she hadn’t experienced in weeks.

Last night had been exactly what they needed. The weight of the Olympics had finally lifted, if only temporarily. She had underestimated how exhausting the Games could be – Lucy had been right when she described it as a marathon. The endless competition and pressure to perform had taken their toll, and last night’s reprieve from it all felt like a much-needed breath of fresh air.

She leaned over and gently brushed a strand of hair from Lucy’s face. Lucy stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open. She gave Ona a sleepy, contented smile, her hand reaching out to rest on Ona’s.

“Morning,” Lucy murmured, her voice thick with sleep but warm with affection.

“Bon dia,” Ona replied softly, her heart swelling with the simple joy of being beside Lucy.

Ona let her fingers dance across Lucy's face, across her brow and down her nose before delicately tracing the outline of her lips. The soft morning light filtering through the curtains painted a serene glow across the room. Everything felt calm and intimate, a stark contrast to the intensity of the past weeks.

Just as Ona leaned in to place a tender kiss on Lucy’s forehead, the piercing ring of her phone shattered the quiet. Ona’s eyes fluttered open, and she sighed, glancing at the screen with a frown. The phone buzzed insistently on the bedside table.

“Mmmm, who, who is it?” Lucy grumbled sleepily.

“No n'estic segur,” Ona muttered back.

“Too early for Catalan,” the Brit groaned, twisting away to pick up the phone

“Oh,” her demeanour changed abruptly.

“Who is it?” Ona asked, her voice laced with curiosity and concern as she reached over to peek at the phone.

“Just a voicemail,” Lucy said, her voice distant and troubled. She rolled over in bed, clearly unsettled by the message.

“From who?” Ona persisted, her brow furrowing. She was trying to understand the sudden shift in Lucy’s mood.

“My sister,” Lucy replied, her voice flat and weary. The mention of her sister’s name seemed to weigh heavily on her.

Ona’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why would Sophie be phoning you now? It’s only 6 am in England.”

“It’s not Sophie,” Lucy clarified, her tone tinged with a mixture of frustration and resignation. She sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes as if trying to wake herself from a troubling dream. “It’s Y/N.”

Ona’s expression softened with empathy. She was aware of the strained relationship between you, though the reasons behind it had always eluded her. She had heard bits and pieces about their complicated dynamic but had never been given a full explanation. She wasn’t even sure Lucy had a definite answer for her.

“Maybe you should listen to it?” Ona suggested gently, her voice filled with concern. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on Lucy’s shoulder.

“No,” Lucy’s answer was abrupt and to the point. She seemed almost angry with herself for letting the voicemail disturb her morning. She threw the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her movements sharp and restless.

The movement managed to throw Lucy’s phone off the bed as well. She must not have locked it properly. Before they could react, your voice filled the room.

The voicemail had begun to play on speakerphone, and Lucy’s heart sank as your words echoed around them. “Luce … Lucy … Lucia Roberta. It’s me,” your voice slurred slightly, you were clearly drunk. “By me, I mean your sister. Not Sophie, your other sister. Y/N … you’re probably not even going to listen to this, so I can probably say what I want to.”

Ona’s eyes widened in surprise, and she looked at Lucy, whose face had gone pale. The voicemail continued, your words growing more emotional and raw. “I don’t know why you couldn’t make it tonight. Actually, no, that’s a lie. I do know why you didn’t come tonight. You hate me. That’s why.”

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3

[gracieslatte]

holy fuck why did i see this

To whoever took this photo, I want you to know that I will be sending you my therapy bills 😭

[gracieslatte]

Hello! Love your fics very, very much :) Loved your Sammy K fic heaps, not many people write for her :'( But I thought I'd shoot my shoot and send you a prompt for her.

Sammy K, "you're short Sam, deal with it."

Take it if you please, if it doesn't tickle your fancy, leave it be. Also not sure if I missed blurb night, it's late afternoon on the 21st for me where I am.

Love your stuff and very, very grateful that you share it here with us crazies

— above average

sam kerr x reader

blurb

you roll your eyes as your fiancée continues a dead argument. she holds her hand flat at the top of her head “babe, i’m serious. i’m at least 5’9”

you continue to fold the laundry — separating yours and sam’s clothes and then organising them by item — as she goes on and on about her height.

“isn’t emily 5’10? how can you be 5’9 if she’s so much taller than you”

sam drops her hands by her side “she is not that much taller than me. and when’s the last time we saw em? i think your memory is a little foggy”

you shake your head “honey” you say almost mockingly “my memory isn’t foggy”

she’s quick to step out of the kitchen and cross the room towards you, immediately putting the back of her hand to your forehead “bub you’re burning up!”

you smack her hand away “you’re short sam, deal with it”

“i’m above average!”

“as a footballer, maybe”

the striker’s jaw drops and she makes a noise that sounds like a mix of a squark and an outraged cry “maybe?! i’m one of the best in the world and i’m not even being cocky”

you kiss her cheek and go back to folding her t-shirts “i know baby, you’re the best”

she nods decisively once and crosses her arms over her chest “and i’m tall”

“no, sam, you aren’t”

[gracieslatte]

Spot the lesbians and the straight one

[gracieslatte]

1 - this made me so happy

2 - they both look so good im combusting

Sam & cait hanging out

https://www.instagram.com/p/C_X9wmbPF9r

optussport | Sam Kerr is joined by Matildas teammate Caitlin Foord at Stamford Bridge 🇦🇺 Just wait till Sam spots them on the big screen 🤣

[gracieslatte]

somebody to you

alexia putellas x reader

You’re not a footballer and knowing that your girlfriend is one of the best footballers in the world… you definitely think Alexia deserves better than you. Maybe someone like her ex—World Cup winner, Jenni Hermoso.

; angst, fluff

When you first met your girlfriend, Alexia, you had no idea who she was.

Football was the last thing you could ever be interested in. How were you supposed to know that the blonde in front of you was one of the best footballers in the world?

Whenever you recall back to that moment, you could still remember every single detail—her hair up in a messy ponytail, a pair of sunglasses resting on top of her head, and her faded grey sweatshirt paired with light blue jorts. (Who the hell wore jorts?) Not to mention the permanent scowl etched on her face. She made smiling seem like a chore.

When it was her turn to order and all she did was point to the menu to show you what she wanted, you frowned because, a) that was so rude—how hard was it to say that she wanted a hot chocolate? but b) she looked so damn hot and you were a sucker for pretty, bratty girls. 

She was perfect.

When you decided to shoot your shot and wrote your number on her cup (and a note that went: you should smile more often, I haven’t seen it, but I’d bet that it’s the most beautiful smile in the world x), you didn’t think she’d do anything about it. 

Imagine your surprise when you received a text from an unknown number later that night.

hola

I just wanted to tell you to do better with your pick-up line

That was a few months ago and now you could confidently say that Alexia’s smile was indeed the most beautiful smile in the world. 

It was tough to break down her walls at first, Alexia always exuded a nonchalant vibe, only smiled when she had to, and didn't look like she enjoyed whatever it was you two were doing. 

You were never a quitter though. So you kept on texting her, asking if she wanted to go for another date. 

She kept on saying yes and that was when you knew that underneath her indifferent mood, she enjoyed your little dates.

Her tough exterior was merely a front and your suspicions were confirmed when one night, she started laughing so hard mid-sentence, causing you to stop whatever it was you were doing because wow, you could listen to her laughter on repeat for the rest of your life.

“Y/N,” she grabbed your face in her hands, gently rubbing your cheeks, her laughter fading into a gentle, warm smile on her face. “You’ve been so patient with my grumpiness. That is a talent.”

“Ale, I really like you,” you chuckled. “That includes your grumpiness.”

“I’m not always like this,” she confessed. You only looked at her in confusion before she told you everything. Who she was, what Alexia Putellas meant to the world, and most importantly, her ACL—the injury that caused her to lose sight of the world for a bit.

“I was just so angry with the world, even now that I’ve healed, I still hated that it happened to me because I missed out for months, I missed out on so many moments. So the bitterness likes to reappear every now and then… That, and I don’t really trust people so easily; people usually want something from me. I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”

“Ale… I had no idea who you were,” you gave her a sheepish smile. “Which might be stupid of me, now that I think about it. I mean, I should know you, shouldn’t I? You’ve won that balloon football award or whatever and it’s ridiculous that I have no idea who—”

You were cut off by a pair of lips crashing into your own. Alexia silencing all your worries with the softest kiss, her strawberry chapstick was all you could taste. She pulled away to rest her forehead against yours, eyes staring at you intently, your favourite smile on display. “I don’t care that you don’t know who I am, Y/N. In fact, I love it. You treat me so normally. Eres mi favorita.”

You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “Am I? You wanna be my girlfriend then, Putellas?”

When all she did was flash you her signature smirk, her eyebrows raised, and an “ask me in a more romantic way, por favor” thrown your way—that was when you realized that you’d broken down her walls completely, and oh you were insufferable. Because the way she looked at you? The way her eyes lit up, her lips slowly curling into a stupidly perfect grin? People would go to war to have someone look at them like that.

You were so head over heels in love with Alexia.

—

Being Alexia’s girlfriend—or wag, as you learned of the term on the internet—was more than you could ever dream of.

You still worked part time at the caf�� where you two met while juggling your studies to finish your master degree. On weekends, you would support Alexia on her games. Cheering her on, not caring about anything else except when Alexia had the ball on her feet.

You were happy in the bubble you and Alexia created.

That was until one Saturday night, you were seated at your usual seat at the stadium among friends and families of the players, when someone plopped down on the seat next to you.

You still weren’t that familiar with football, having only been to ten games in total. You knew the rules, you knew a couple of Alexia’s teammates after stalking them online (you two were still keeping your relationship a secret from everyone else), but that was mostly it. 

So you didn’t know who the person next to you was until she offered a small smile, outstretching her hand for you to shake.

Jenni.

The name was a bit familiar, so was her face. You couldn’t quite place where you’ve seen her before though.

“Who do you know on the team?” her voice brought you out of your daydream, wracking your brain on why she looked familiar.

“Uhm,” you stuttered. Right. This was the friends and family section, you couldn’t sit here if you didn’t know anyone. “Alexia.”

Jenni was surprised, you could tell with the way her eyes widened for a split second, not expecting your answer. “Friend of Ale’s, huh?”

You didn’t like how she said your girlfriend’s name. With that hint of… fondness. You suddenly felt a possessive feeling growing in your chest and you just wanted to tell everyone that Alexia is yours.

Jenni stared at the field, her eyes fixating on Alexia. You could see an affectionate smile on her face and that was when it clicked. You’ve seen her on Alexia's Instagram before. Jenni used to be her teammate at Barcelona before she moved to Mexico.

You knew this because in the picture, Jenni was smiling at Alexia the same way. And even though your Spanish wasn’t spectacular, you remembered reading the paragraph Alexia wrote for Jenni and getting the hint at how close they were with how Alexia seemed to think so highly of Jenni.

“You’re her teammate, yeah?”

Jenni turned back to look at you, nodding. “I don’t play for Barça anymore, but we still play on the national team together.”

“Cool.” 

Jenni gave a small laugh. “You don’t know much about football, do you?”

You grimaced, “Is it that obvious?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she patted your arm in what was meant to be a comforting gesture, but it made you feel even more stupid and out of place in this whole stadium, where everyone knew what they were getting into when they bought tickets to the game. “It’s just that—not trying to sound arrogant or anything—but usually people know who I am because I used to play for this team. So you not recognizing me straight away gave me the clue that you’re probably not a Culer.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Culer?”

“Fans of the club.”

“Ah.” You were definitely not a Barcelona fan. You were a fan of your girlfriend though, and if that meant you had to be a Culer or whatever it was, then you would be.

So when you laid down in Alexia’s bed that night, you mentioned to her that starting from today, you were a Culer. She burst out laughing and you can feel her grip you tighter, having your face completely smashed against her neck—not that you minded, you had always felt so content being pressed up against Alexia.

“Mi amor,” she cooed, looking down to face you, her hand finding its way to its favourite resting place on your cheek. “When did you learn that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, starting to feel a bit insecure at this whole thing. “Well, we’ve been dating for three months now—next week it would be four—and I still don’t know shit about football, but, Ale… I’d be a Culer for you.”

Alexia giggled and pecked your lips, smiling your favourite smile of hers (the one that made her eyes sparkle and the small dimples on her cheek to come out).

“You’re perfect, did you know? I love you whether you’re a Culer or not.”

“Hm,” you pretended to be deep in thought. “Then what if I become a Real Madrid fan?”

Alexia gave you an unimpressed look. “Don’t push it.”

“I’m going to Madrid next week with a couple of my friends and maybe I could catch a game—”

And Alexia did what had become her favourite thing to do: interrupting your ramble with a kiss. You had a love-hate relationship with the gesture, because while you do love having her soft lips on yours, it was so annoying to be cut off mid-sentence.

You never complained though. You’d happily get interrupted if it meant having Alexia kiss you like you were the last person on earth.

That night, you buried your uneasiness as a result of your encounter with Jenni deep, deep inside.

(You didn��t know just how important Jenni was to Alexia.)

—

Jenni was in town for a couple of days, you’d later learn.

You would usually go to Alexia’s after you were done for the day, mostly spending the night at hers. That was why Alexia ended up giving you a spare key—so you would be able to come as you please.

It wasn’t unusual for you to have to use your spare key. What was unusual was the sight of Jenni sitting on your girlfriend’s couch, looking surprised at you barging into your girlfriend’s home.

“Hi…” you gave an awkward small wave at her, closing the door behind you as you slowly stepped inside the apartment.

“Oh! Y/N, right?” Jenni stood up to face you and you could tell that this was very much awkward for her as it was for you. “Nice to meet you again.”

You gave her your best smile, trying your hardest not to be rude as you scan the place for any sight of your favourite blonde. “Is… Alexia here?”

“I have no idea where she is honestly,” at that you couldn’t help the way your eyebrows rose to the top of your head. “I’m in Barcelona for a couple of days. I was supposed to meet her tomorrow morning for breakfast but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. So I figured I’d meet her tonight instead. I have an extra key so…”

You didn’t like what you were hearing at all, but you kept your cool. That was the jealousy inside of you, you knew this. Jenni’s a friend. You really should tone down your green-eyed monster.

“What are you doing here?” It was Jenni’s turn to ask you. 

“I, too, have a spare key,” you intended to joke about the situation, but your tone felt off and Jenni can sense it too. 

Jenni had a lot of questions, you could tell. It was easy to read the emotions on her face. 

You had to remind yourself that she didn’t know you were dating Alexia. She didn’t know that you basically spent more nights here than at your own place. It was natural to be curious as to why there was a random girl showing up at your best friend’s house at 10 pm, with her own sets of keys nonetheless.

Wanting to get out of the awkward situation, you excused yourself, saying you’d meet Alexia some other time, bidding Jenni goodbye.

You texted Alexia a simple good night once you settled in your bed. 

When Alexia responded back with a short text back, sweet dreams, mi amor, and not a phone call asking why you weren’t in her bed, you let that feeling of uneasiness return to the surface.

—

You didn’t get to overthink for too long because when you wake up, it was because you felt your bed dip and the familiar scent of your girlfriend engulfing you as she settled behind you.

“Bon dia,” Alexia whispered, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you to her. “I missed you last night.”

You turned around to burrow your face into her collarbones, letting out a content sigh. “Missed you too.”

“Jenni told me you visited my place but left immediately.”

At the mention of her name, you froze. What a way to ruin the moment. “Yeah,” was all you replied, which was weird to Alexia considering how talkative you were in the mornings.

“Why didn’t you wait for me, bebita? You always wait for me even when I’m not home.”

You shrugged, “Jenni was there already.”

Alexia went still for a moment, which you thought was odd.

You wanted so badly to keep quiet, but the 

nagging feelings that you couldn’t shake grew stronger. “She has a spare key too. Do you just go around giving keys to your apartment to everyone? I thought I was special,” you chuckled, meaning it to be a joke, waiting for Alexia to respond with her usual snarky retort.

When Alexia didn’t say anything, you pulled back from her, looking up to stare at her face. She was looking anywhere but you.

“Ale? I’m only kidding. I know she’s your friend.”

Alexia cleared her throat, “You see…” 

You sat up, something about her tone brought up that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Jenni’s my ex.”

Ah. That definitely burst the bubble you’d carefully created.

You gave a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “So your ex still has a key to your place,” you stated. You were about to swallow your sentence when you suddenly felt anger rising in your chest with how blindsided you were. “Did she spend the night?”

Alexia looked like a deer caught in the headlights. You felt sick.

“That’s a yes.”

“Amor…”

You shook of her touch and went to stand up. You looked at the blonde in your bed and you felt your heart crushed. You hated how Alexia looked like a kicked puppy, immediately scrambling to chase after you once she realized you were leaving the room.

“Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Your ex still has a key to your place and she stayed the night,” you were mostly repeating it to yourself, trying to wrap your head around the fact somehow.

“She slept on the couch!” Alexia interjected. “Nothing happened, amor, I swear.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to fight with Alexia. Besides, deep down you knew that Alexia wasn’t the type of person to be unfaithful.

“Okay,” you relented, opening your fridge with the aim of making breakfast, trying to busy yourself with something that wasn’t looking at your girlfriend.

Alexia didn’t seem convinced that you’d drop the subject just like that. “There's nothing going on between Jenni and I. She's a good friend.”

You grabbed an empty bowl. “Okay.” You scooped some yogurt out of its jar and placed a spoonful in your bowl. Jenni’s a good friend. Just a friend.

“Mi vida… I know it’s… weird? To still be friends with an ex, but…”

You poured some granola on top of your yogurt. Who the hell stayed friends with their ex? Alexia. Sweet, lovely Alexia. 

Looking down at your bowl and seeing a sad, miserable breakfast (just like how you were feeling), you pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a small headache coming through. You felt like crying but that seemed pathetic so you shoved the feeling away. Jenni was an ex, but she was a good friend. You had to live with that.

“I trust you, Ale,” you sighed. “If you say she’s a good friend, then I trust you.” 

She went up behind you and rested her chin on your shoulder, her arms encircling your waist. “I love you,” she whispered into your shoulder, placing a kiss on the exposed skin. “I really do. Jenni and I broke up ages ago.”

They broke up ages ago. That was grand. You were fine. People stayed friends with their ex and nothing happened. Right?

When you didn’t say anything else, just continuing to stare at your breakfast, Alexia poked your side. “Hey,” she placed a peck on your back. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, love.” More like jealous. Or fucking devastated that your girlfriend’s ex was a sexy footballer just like herself. How could you ever compete with that?

“Y/N,” Alexia’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Babygirl.”

At that you couldn’t help the laughter that escaped your lips. You turned around to face her, her arms stayed trapping you against the counter. “Please don't call me that ever again.”

“Why?” Alexia smirked, her face inching closer to yours. 

“I hate it, Ale, por favor,” you groaned. 

Alexia grinned at you, pecking your lips “Hm. I love when you speak Spanish.”

And when Alexia kissed you, any thoughts of your girlfriend’s ex escaped your brain completely. 

Alexia chose you. So what if she still hung out with her ex? Plenty of people do. Plus, you trust Alexia. You had nothing to worry about.

—

Apparently it wasn’t Alexia you had to worry about. It was yourself. You were your own worst enemy and all that.

You didn’t mean to let the thoughts run loose.

When Jenni left for Mexico, you were elated. No more running into your girlfriend’s ex and no more ex-girlfriend trying to steal your girlfriend’s time away from you.

You didn’t factor in the fact that Alexia and Jenni were national teammates. So when international break came and both Alexia and Jenni were called up to camp in Portugal… 

You felt like you were going crazy.

You knew you were being dumb, but you couldn’t help it. You didn't think that Alexia would cheat on you—that possibility never crossed your mind.

You just couldn’t help but feel incomparible to Jenni.

That was how you went into a rabbit hole of watching every Alexia and Jenni videos on the internet.

It was a mistake, really. A stupid, terrible mistake, because you could see how well they fit together.

Their chemistry on and off the field were something else, you kinda felt stupid to think that Jenni was the one ruining your relationship when it could very well be that you were the one preventing Alexia from being with someone who truly gets her.

Because you were sure that Jenni understood Alexia in ways that you may never do. They had been through thick and thin together—Alexia’s injury, the issue with the Spanish Federation—they won countless of football championships together, for god's sake.

And how exactly were you supposed to compete with that? Alexia lived and breathed football, you wouldn’t step foot inside a football match if your girlfriend wasn't on the team.

You didn’t get this world of hers and you knew that you never would. 

Unlike Jenni. This was her world already. 

They'd be perfect together—they were perfect together.

You hated how you were able to let your thoughts spiral as you stared at another video of Jenni looking at Alexia like she was the only person in the room.

You knew Alexia loved you, you had no doubt about that, and you loved her too. But maybe Jenni could love her better.

Jenni was perfect for Alexia in ways that you weren’t. With that thought replaying in your head, you turned off your phone and kept it locked inside your drawer.

You were never one to be obsessed with your phone, having gone days without it and being absolutely fine. So that was what you did. Mostly because you didn't want to talk to Alexia.

You couldn’t handle it if Alexia came to the same realization as you—that you were nothing compared to Jenni and she could very much just get back together with her ex.

Just imagining it crushed your heart into bits so you tried your best to push it away as you went through your day.

—

Alexia decided to leave camp a day earlier than she was supposed to. She said she had a family emergency to attend to, which was true, considering you had yet to respond to any of her calls or texts. She must’ve sounded so desperate to return back to Barcelona, causing them to reluctantly let her go.

She got on the first plane available and went straight home. Usually you would stay over at hers when she was out of town, claiming that you always missed her when she wasn’t around and having her scent engulf you was the next best thing.

However, when Alexia entered her apartment and there were no signs of you, she dropped her bag and hurriedly got into her car to drive to yours. She thanked god that your place was only five minutes away. 

Quickly putting her car into park, she tried to regulate her breathing and convinced herself that you were fine. 

You were fine. You had to be. You were fine when Alexia left for the airport just a week ago.

With the thought that you maybe broke your phone or lost it, Alexia inserted the spare key you gave her and unlocked the door.

You weren’t in the living room. Or the kitchen. So that left one more place. Knocking softly on your bedroom door, she called out your name. When she didn’t get a reply, she let herself in.

No one was there, or in the bathroom. Sighing to herself, she made her way back to the living room and laid down on the couch.

Alexia was never the one to cry easily but she really wanted to. She had no idea where you were, or if you were safe. Never had she felt so helpless before.

This was maybe her fault for wanting to keep you two a secret.

Now she couldn’t contact any of your friends because she didn’t know them.

She took a deep breath and willed herself to focus on where you could be. The café you work at, perhaps? But it was a Sunday and you didn’t work on Sundays because Alexia didn’t have anything to do either and Sundays were your lounging-around-in-bed-until-lunch-time type of days.

Maybe you were at the library. You were going to have your exams next week. Alexia already had your schedule memorized. But it was nearing midnight and you never—

“Ale?” you couldn’t help the surprise in your tone. “Aren’t you supposed to still be at camp?”

Alexia jumped a foot in the air, mostly because she didn’t hear you come in and was scared shitless but also because oh my god, she could finally breathe now that you were okay. 

Alexia immediately wrapped her arms around you, she felt like she never wanted to let you go. Ever. “And you’re supposed to reply to my calls, amor.”

Well. 

“My phone’s broken.”

Alexia pulled back and looked at you, her face telling you that she didn’t quite believe you. 

“My phone’s lost…?” you tried again, giving her a sheepish smile. You were starting to feel bad for ignoring her.

Alexia only sighed in response, dropping on the couch and pulling you to sit on her lap. “I’m just glad you’re okay, mi vida. I was really worried.”

You felt even guiltier now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be.”

You were taken aback at the look of pure disbelief on Alexia’s face at your words. You really didn’t think she’d worry about you—with having to go to training everyday, hanging out with her national teammates, having Jenni around.

“That’s…” Alexia shook her head, trying to get her words out. “That’s ridiculous, amor. Why would I not be worried about you?”

You shrugged. “You’re busy, love. I’d understand.”

Alexia quickly shook her head, you were afraid she'd get whiplash with how frantic her movements were. “I am always busy during camp, sí, but never too busy enough for you? Did I do something to make you feel like I would not have time for you? I didn’t realize—”

Now it was your turn to silence her with a kiss, which was a rare occurrence—cool, calm Alexia never rambled.

You felt her sigh against your mouth, her whispers of a soft “te amo mucho” made you go completely limp in her arms.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassured her. “It’s just me, don’t worry about it.”

“I will always have time for you and I will always worry about you. Because I love you.”

You smiled at her, despite having the worst feeling in the pit of your stomach you still believe her whenever she said it to you. “I love you too, Ale. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

She was still looking at you with worry etched on her face. “Anything else on your pretty mind?” 

You felt that if you voiced your thoughts out loud, you’d sound like a crazy, jealous girlfriend and you didn’t want that. So you simply said nothing and laid your head on her chest.

This was fine. You were in Alexia’s arms. Jenni was far away in Mexico. (Well, Portugal right now, but she’d eventually return to Mexico).

You promised yourself you wouldn't let your insane, full of jealousy thoughts ruin what you had with Alexia.

—

People found out about you and Alexia a month later. And by people, that meant the whole damn earth.

Since you never mentioned Alexia to your friends—just casually mentioning that you were seeing someone, but not necessarily specifying who exactly you were dating—the moment your pictures with alexia blew up on the internet, so did your phone.

They were candid pictures of you and Alexia at the beach. Private candid pictures.

You unlocked your phone and scrolled through the countless texts from your friends.

how did you manage to bag THE alexia putellas???

idiota text me back wtf!!!

did you blackmail her oh my god you genius

Which were definitely rude. And didn’t help at all the voices at the back of your head screaming that you weren't good enough for Alexia.

It was a hellish morning.

The only thing saving it was the sound of keys at the front door, and a moment later your girlfriend was stepping inside your apartment, humming happily as she placed a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. She most likely hadn’t seen the pictures yet.

“Ale,” you called out, giving her a weak smile as she turned her head towards you.

“Hola, mi amor,” Alexia instantly furrowing her brows at the sight of you sitting on the couch. “Whats wrong?”

You hated how she could read you so well. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

She flopped down on the couch next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and bringing you into her side. You left out the biggest sigh and just handed her your phone, where the pictures of the two of you were still open.

You felt Alexia stiffen up and you closed your eyes, willing that this wasn't the end for you two. You knew just how much Alexia valued her privacy. 

It was silent for a minute or so, alexia tapping away on your phone. 

“Lo siento,” Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I already restricted the comments on your Instagram, you shouldn’t be dealing with all that. People can be a bit… much sometimes.”

Oh. You hadn't even thought to check your Instagram page. You were glad though, you couldn't imagine what vile things people were saying about you. It must be bad enough that that was where Alexia immediately thought to go.

“Is it that bad?” you voiced out, pulling back so you could see Alexia’s face. She looked surprisingly calm. “Babe, how are you so calm about this?”

“The comments on your posts are a lot, but I didn’t read them,” Alexia said simply. “It can be overwhelming, that's why I wanted to shield you from all of that. When you're ready you can just turn it back on.”

You smiled at how thoughtful she was. You really loved her. “You don't have to shield me from anything, Ale. I can handle a few nasty comments. You also haven’t answered my question.”

Alexia looked questioningly at you, grabbing at your arms to pull you closer again.

You settled nicely in her arms, your back pressing against her front as she laid down on the couch. “What question?”

“How you’re so calm about all of this.”

“Ah,” you can feel Alexia's chuckle and you turn around. You were now facing her again (your favorite thing to do—who would ever be tired of staring at Alexia’s face). You placed both of your hands on her face and ran your fingers through her jaw. “I’m anything but calm, bebita. You should feel my heart.”

“I can feel it.”

“Then you know I’m not calm.”

“You are the epitome of calm right now, baby,” you laughed, the nerves still shimmering across your entire body, whereas Alexia looked like it was just a regular Saturday for her.

Alexia took a deep breath and placed her hand on top of yours. “I’m scared. That is the truth. I’m really, really scared. But I know we will get through this. Together. As long as I have you and you have me, I think everything will be alright.”

You smiled at her, truly feeling how she meant her words. You pecked her lips and went back to snuggle into her, your head resting perfectly in the crook of her neck.

“I love you, Ale. You have me. Always.”

—

The next few weeks passed by in a blur. You finally got introduced to Alexia’s friends—Alexia brought you to Lucy and Ona’s housewarming party for their new place. Everyone loved you and you felt like you fit right in. It was great. You felt happy.

(You didn't let the thoughts of why it took a media outlet leaking your pictures for Alexia to bring you around to meet the people in her life, but you cast it aside.)

You met up with your friends and finally told them about Alexia. They were all wary, thinking it was too good to be true. A couple of snide remarks were thrown around about how Alexia could do better, even though your friends said it in a joking way, it still hurt.

But you managed by.

The next thing you knew you were being introduced to Eli and Alba.

It went fine, the most important people in your girlfriend's life seemed to like you, asking you questions about all sorts of things.

It wasn't until Alba casually mentioned how she was going to Mexico with some of her friends and how she would be staying with Jenni the whole week that you realized how closely intertwined Jenni was with Alexia’s life.

Your girlfriend's little sister lighting up as she mentioned all the places Jenni was planning on taking her to. You realized that Alba grew up with Jenni and she most likely saw Jenni as her big sister too; how devastated was she when Alexia and Jenni broke up and Jenni would never officially be a part of their family?

Going home that night, your mind was filled with how Alba and Eli were most likely comparing you to Jenni. Once again you were met with the question that seemed to always bother you: how were you supposed to compete with Jenni Hermoso?

—

The next thing you knew it was time for the World Cup. A very big deal for your girlfriend.

Especially since this was her first big tournament after suffering her injury.

You flew to support her, occasionally meeting with Alba and Eli for lunch (you knew you wouldn’t live up to Jenni, but you could try to make them like you better).

They hadn't given an indication that they disliked you, but just to be safe, you were willing to go the extra mile to make your girlfriend's family like you. You didn't have a decade-long history with them, but you could meet up with them to eat sushi even though you hated eating raw fish.

A small price to pay. Alba was really craving salmon sashimi.

At night, Alexia called you, telling you about her day. Mostly, you let her stay in the zone, you knew how important this was for her; you never called her first, letting her take the lead. You didn't want to be a distraction.

You two have talked about this before. You, scared that you'd be a distraction and Alexia looking at you as if that was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Alexia reassured you that you'd never be a distraction and nothing had to change.

You were nervous. You didn't know what being a wag entailed during a big tournament.

It went fine though and your best friends did told you that you were worrying for nothing.

(You still couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that Alexia was spending basically every waking moment with Jenni. But it was fine. Jenni was her teammate. They support each other in different ways.)

Alexia called you every night, some nights Alexia fell asleep with the call still connected and you were left to longingly stare at her, longing to be there next to your girlfriend.

Despite her reassurance that she wanted you to bother her, you didn’t want to seem like a needy girlfriend.

So you toned down your texts, looking at updates of your girlfriend through Instagram (it was a bit pathetic). When you tapped on the next Instagram story and it was a video of Alexia giggling with Jenni, you almost lost it. Almost.

They were friends. Best friends. Exes, yes, but their relationship went beyond that. You knew this. You’ve spent hours down the rabbit hole of reading their history on some blog. 

And once again you were left to wonder why Alexia chose you when she can be with her soulmate.

It was an endless cycle and you knew you couldn't go on like this. You had to talk to your girlfriend about your insecurities and just hope that she wasn’t going to think you were silly. 

For now though, you were ready to cheer her on as she took the biggest stage in her career.

All the best teams in the world were great, but Spain was better. Alexia was a superstar, like always.

So of course Spain won the World Cup, you had no doubt about it.

What you didn't expect was Alexia exchanging jerseys with Jenni out of all people. You bit your tongue, the cheers all around you didn't do much to drown the thumping of your heartbeat in your ears.

You loved your girlfriend, you were so proud of her. 

But as your sweet girlfriend celebrated on the pitch with her ex’s name on her chest, you never knew pain like this.

They were World Champions together. How could you even compete with that? It wasn't your name that Alexia was proudly showing off to the world. 

You and Alexia’s family were then escorted backstage. You waited, and waited, swallowing the bitter feeling in your chest. You were happy for Alexia, you really were. But was it necessary to trade jerseys with Jenni? 

Before you knew it, Alexia came barrelling towards you. J. HERMOSO visible across her chest.

You hugged her, whispered how proud of her you were, and when Alexia was whisked off for media duties, you prayed that she wouldn’t come to the same conclusion as you.

Alexia and Jenni had years of memories, years of going through the ups and downs of football together. Them winning the World Cup together just added another notable piece to their already intricate history.

Jenni Hermoso was a million times better than you, her winning the World Cup just sealed it even more.

—

You let Alexia celebrate with her teammates, desperately trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you waited for her in your hotel room.

She insisted you come along, but you declined, not wanting to rain on her parade.

When Alexia stumbled into your hotel room later into the night, you traded sweet nothings into each other’s ears as you let Alexia do whatever she wanted to you.

You felt loved, but you still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest that Alexia could love Jenni better.

—

Being back in Barcelona felt nice.

You were a million miles away from Jenni but still the feeling of insecurity lingered. You knew you had to talk to Alexia soon before it ate you alive.

You just didn't think that it’d blow up to an argument.

You went out with your friends for lunch, promising Alexia that you’d be back in time for your weekly movie nights.

When you entered your shared home you were met with Alexia lying horizontally on your couch.

She was laughing at the TV, too engrossed in whatever she was watching that she hadn’t noticed you coming in.

You went straight to the kitchen, rummaging around your fridge to look for something to do. You weren’t hungry after the lunch you had, but you just wanted to do something. Your hands were full of nerves, mostly due to the annoyance radiating off you.

You were annoyed at your friends and how they kept on making comments about you and Alexia. They didn’t mean any harm, but it got too much.

Before your thoughts wandered further, you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist.

“I didn’t hear you get in.”

You hummed, looking at the ingredients in front of you. Guess you were making some banana bread.

You could feel Alexia’s gaze on you as you basically ignored her. Alexia always knew when something was up with you.

“Is everything okay? Why are you baking?”

You shrugged, getting the necessary equipment from the cupboard.

“Y/N?”

“I just feel like baking,” you didn’t mean to sound curt. Alexia immediately loosened her grip on you, leaning against the counter as she searched for your eyes. 

“Okay… Well, do you want me to help?”

“Not really.” You knew you weren’t being fair—Alexia didn’t do anything wrong—but you had your reasons.

Your reasons were the comments your friends made that reinforced the thoughts you had been carrying around for months. You were insecure, disgruntled, and dejected all at once. 

You paused for a second before blurting out, “Why didn't you want anyone to know about us?”

Alexia froze. The conversation thrown around during lunch earlier kept echoing in your head.

“Was keeping it a secret Alexia’s idea?”

“Why though? Is she ashamed of you or something?”

“Is it true that she used to date Jenni Hermoso?”

“If I used to date Jenni Hermoso then I would never—well, I wouldn’t say downgrade, but…”

“Hey, that’s just mean! Alexia didn’t downgrade with Y/N!”

“You’re seriously picking Y/N over Jenni Hermoso? Y/N, you know I love you, but let’s be serious for a second.”

“Ale, are you embarrassed of me?”

“What?” Alexia was taken aback at your question, a bewildered look settling on her face. “I am not embarrassed of you. Where is this coming from?”

You scoffed. “Then why didn’t you want people to know about us? About me?”

Alexia was speechless for a second, not expecting that this was where the conversation was going. “Because my world can be harsh and I just want to protect you from it. I told you this, amor. We’ve had this conversation before.”

While that used to sound sweet, now it just irritated you.

“Yeah, but I can handle it.”

Alexia gave you a look that said she didn't believe you. You felt offended. Sure, you were an overly emotional person, but you were sure you could handle it. You were handling it. There were people who spewed out nasty comments about you on the internet everyday but you brushed them off—none of their opinions matter to you. 

Your girlfriend’s opinions matter to you.

“Glad to know you think so highly of me,” you sarcastically said, angrily slamming the bananas on the counter. This conversation was really getting on your nerves. You almost wished you didn't bring it up in the first place.

Alexia let out a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t have any faith in you. I just want to protect you. The last time I was in a relationship, it was with someone in the football field,” you hoped she didn’t notice how you immediately stiffen. “I didn’t have to worry so much because she knew how it was—”

You suddenly were so irritated at the reminder of Jenni that you snapped. “I know I’m not Jenni!”

Alexia was surprised at your sudden outburst.

“Qué? I know you are not her—”

“But you wish I was.” 

Alexia looked so taken aback at your accusation that you immediately felt guilty for ever saying it.

“…What?”

But it seems that despite the guilt you felt, the pent up anger inside you was overflowing, desperate to let itself out.

“Jenni is perfect, Jenni plays football, Jenni can handle the media, Jenni knows all your friends and family. Everyone likes Jenni better than me!”

“Amor, no! That’s— Where is this coming from?”

You almost wished you didn’t mention any of this in the first place with the way Alexia was looking at you like a blindsided, kicked puppy. 

You wanted to try to explain your side of things to her. You felt like your feelings about this whole thing were valid, albeit you could definitely handle it differently. Like, not bottling things up until they eventually blew up.

“You’re still good friends with your ex, Ale,” was all you could come up with.

“…Yes? We went through a lot together; she was a big part of my life.” At that you rolled your eyes. Obviously she was a big part of Alexia’s life. Weren’t all exes a big part of our lives at some point?

When you didn't say anything else and continued to prepare for your banana bread, Alexia continued, “It wasn't a bad breakup... We just decided that we were better off as friends.”

Honestly, you’ve had enough of hearing about Jenni.

“That’s exactly it, isn't it? You two went through a lot together, Ale. You won the freaking World Cup together and you went around parading her name on your chest while I was at the stands cheering you on despite having to see you with your ex’s name on all the fucking pictures of you and the trophy. And yeah she lives all the way in Mexico but you have international camps together while I'm at home, watching Instagram stories of you two, wondering why you're still giving me the time of the day when you could be with someone like her? For god’s sake Ale, she's hot! I get it! I do! And she’s 5’9 and I’m not—”

“Amor, stop,” Alexia interrupted your rambling, stepping closer to you but you didn't let her, shaking your head and taking a step away. “Y/N, I had no idea you felt that way—”

“It’s stupid. Forget it.” Embarrassment filled your cheeks.

“No, no, it’s not. It’s not stupid if you feel that way, my love. I’m so, so sorry that I didn't realize how this was making you feel.”

You sighed. It wasn’t Alexia’s fault, you knew that. You should've told her. It wasn't her fault because she didn't know.

You were now even more embarrassed that you let it turn into such a big deal.

So you took one last look at your girlfriend and ran out the door.

—

An hour into your aimless walk, you realized that you didn’t bring your phone with you, which meant you couldn’t Uber your way back home.

You realized that this meant you couldn’t call anyone to pick you up.

To make it worse, the sky started to rumble, signaling that the possibility of a heavy rain was coming sooner than you think.

Everything felt like a disaster.

You slumped down on a nearby bench. You knew where you were, you had no trouble getting home without Google maps. But it was an hour walk here, which meant it would be another hour walk home.

You groaned, thinking of the best way out of this predicament you put yourself in.

It was nearing midnight, but Barcelona had always been a lively place, so there were still plenty of passersby. You could ask to borrow someone’s phone, call Alexia, and wait until she picked you up.

But that would mean a random stranger would have Alexia’s number on their phone. You didn’t know if people would recognize you and put two and two together on who you were calling. You didn’t want to take that risk.

You could call one of your friends, but you didn’t remember any of their numbers.

The only number you knew by heart was Alexia’s. 

Placing your hands over your face, you took a deep breath and pushed back the stinging feeling behind your eyes. You couldn’t cry. You really wanted to because of how pathetic you were, but you couldn’t. You’d just feel even worse.

With every minute that passed by, you started to feel even more guilty at the thought of how worried Alexia must be.

Standing up, you decided you could just borrow someone’s Uber app, or even hail a taxi from somewhere. You decided that you had to go home right now. Alexia must be driving herself crazy when she realized you weren’t one call away.

Just when you were about to step into the direction of two friendly-looking strangers, the first droplet fell on top of your head.

“Fuck.”

Soon enough, the rain went down heavily. Everyone started running in all directions, trying to shield themselves from the pouring rain and you were left standing there, feeling sorry for yourself because great now you were stranded and drenched.

You sat back down and let the rain wash over you, finally letting out the sobs you were withholding.

You had a lot of thoughts in your head, but mostly, you just wanted Alexia. You wanted her right now. If you weren’t such a jealous girlfriend, you wouldn’t be in this situation. You wouldn’t be questioning her decade-long friendship with one of her best friends.

You wouldn’t—

“Amor!”

You whipped your head up and despite the water blocking your eyesight, you could always tell that it was your girlfriend’s figure running towards you.

You were a sobbing mess, sitting all alone in the rain in the middle of Barcelona, but still Alexia managed to find you. Alexia was drenched all over too, no umbrella in sight, as she kneeled down on the pavement and brought your crying face into her neck. 

Alexia pulled back and you could tell that she had been crying too. Great. You felt a million times worse now.

“What the hell are you doing?! You didn’t have your phone with you, I didn’t know where you were!” 

“I’m sorry,” you cried out, your voice barely audible due to the heavy patter of the rain. “I walked for a long time and I ended up here and it was an hour away and I didn’t have my phone, I couldn’t get back home without walking another hour and my feet are killing me and I feel so bad because you must be so worried and it’s all my fault! And now you’re here, I don’t know how you managed to find me but I’m so glad you’re here and oh my god—we’re both probably gonna be sick. I’m sorry! I love you, Ale, I’m so sorry!”

“Hey, hey,” Alexia cooed, placing her forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re okay. I love you too, please stop crying, mi amorcita. It’s okay.”

You took a deep breath, which didn’t end up helping because having water fall over your head made breathing a bit harder. 

Alexia placed a kiss on your forehead, standing up and pulling you against her.

You felt yourself sag against her, Alexia holding you upright. “Can we go home? I’m really cold.”

“Of course, mi vida. Let’s go home.”

—

Once you got into Alexia’s car, you started to cry again.

Mostly because it was warm and you were so relieved, but also because you felt bad that you were flooding her car with your wet clothes.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, wiping away your tears.

“I’m ruining your leather seats. Your car is ruined.”

Alexia let out a laugh. You looked at her like she was crazy. “Stop laughing at me,” you cried out. “Ale.”

“Oh, bebé,” Alexia tugged you across the console, wanting to pull you close once more. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

“Then?”

“You’re too cute, you know? This will all dry up, amor. Besides, you’re not the only one whose clothes are wet. Look at me.”

You knew Alexia was trying to cheer you up, but at the reminder that the reason Alexia was soaked in the first place was because of you, you felt your bottom lip start to wobble.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Now we’re both gonna freeze to death.”

Alexia simply placed a kiss on your cheek, putting the car in gear. “I won’t let you freeze to death.”

Looking out the window and seeing the familiar route home, you felt at peace even though you were still trembling from your wet clothing.

You didn’t know what state you would be in had Alexia not found you. 

“Ale.” 

She looked at you for a split second before redirecting her gaze on the road. “Hm?”

“How did you even find me?”

You saw the smirk before she could answer. “It’s called telepathy, amor.”

“Ale. I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too,” Alexia shrugged, a coy smile on her lips. “It’s our connection, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes at her antics. “Whatever. Idiota.”

Alexia laughed, her hand blindly searching for yours. You let her take your hand, the touch causing warmth to settle deep in your chest.

You didn’t let go of her hand all the way home.

—

After taking a warm shower, you laid on your side of the bed, waiting for Alexia to finish with hers.

(Alexia decided to shower in the guest bathroom, not wanting to invade your privacy in case you were still mad at her.)

(You quickly rebutted her statement and said that you weren’t ‘mad’ at her, just ‘annoyed’.)

Just when you were about to call out her name because Alexia was taking too long when she could shower in under five minutes, your girlfriend appeared, leaning against the doorway of your shared bedroom, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Can I still sleep with you or should I stay in the guest bedroom?”

You gestured for her to join you on the bed, relief falling on Alexia’s face as she approached you. 

Once you were both under the covers, Alexia immediately resumed her position as the big spoon. You placed your hand over hers that was draped across your stomach, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you.

“Can we talk about it?” Alexia whispered.

You didn’t want to. You were embarrassed. But you knew you had to. So you took a deep breath and let out everything you had been feeling for months—how you knew Alexia loved you, but oftentimes your thoughts took over and convinced you that Alexia couldn’t love you fully, not really. Especially knowing that she could have someone as perfect as Jenni.

“Y/N, I don’t want Jenni. I’m not in love with her anymore. You have to believe me.”

“But she’s… she’s perfect for you.”

“You’re perfect for me. It’s you I’m in love with. It’s you I love, Y/N.”

You turned around at the way Alexia’s voice was shaking, which was usually the tell-tale signs that she was about to cry.

And sure enough, Alexia had tears welling up in her eyes and that broke you. Your girlfriend was never one to cry often so the sight made you crumble and realize just how much she was telling the truth.

You reached out and wiped away her tears that managed to escape, placing a soft kiss on her nose. “Please don’t cry, Ale. I’m sorry—“

“Don’t apologize,” Alexia interjected. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just sad because you can’t see how amazing you are. It pains me that you don’t see yourself the way I see you.”

“I guess I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you can have someone like Jenni, yet you’re choosing to be with someone like me.”

“Hey, don't be mean to my girlfriend,” Alexia turned serious, staring right into your eyes as she speak. “She’s perfect to me. She’s the only one I’ll ever want. Ever.”

You stayed quiet, taking in her words. You still didn't know what Alexia saw in you, but with the fierce stare full of determination she was wearing, you were starting to believe her. Believe that there were amazing qualities about you that made Alexia fall head over heels in love with you.

“You promise that you’ll love me even though I’m nowhere near as good as Jenni at football and I’m not as famous as her—Ale, I don’t have a World Cup trophy…”

“Y/N, my love, of course I do. I promise. I love you. I do, with all my heart.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m still going to have my insecurities. They’re not going away just like that.”

“I understand, amor,” Alexia placed her hands on your cheeks, caressing them gently, you could feel her love for you seeping from her fingers. “I’ll tell you everyday that you're all I’ll ever need until you believe me.”

You didn't have to be a footballer and you didn't have to go and win a World Cup, Alexia would still love you for who you were.

—

The opening game of the season fell on your birthday. You were seated at your usual seat with Alba and Eli. Eli had organized a small party after the game, she had baked you a birthday cake and wanted you to blow out the candles before your birthday dinner with Alexia.

When your girlfriend went out to the pitch, your jaw dropped. Instead of wearing her usual 11, she was wearing your birthdate on her back.

She easily spotted you in the stands, pointing at her back then pointing at you. This is for you, you could hear her message loud and clear.

You could cry right there and then. (You did cry).

Later Alexia uploaded her usual post-match Instagram post. The pictures of her wearing the jersey with your number made it extra special, especially the video she included of herself running over to you, lifting you up in her arms, and spinning you around—the happiness radiating from the two of you clearly visible.

The cherry on top was the caption underneath:

special numbers today in honour of my girl’s birthday. te amo mucho, amor @y/n 🥰❤️

All those fears of being not good enough, all those fears of Jenni replacing you, you now thought it was all so silly.

Because you knew without a doubt how much Alexia loved you.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, a cheeky smile on your face. “Just thinking about how dumb you look with that birthday hat on.”

“Hey! This is all for you, amor!”

You laughed at her pout, the pointy birthday hat still sitting on top of her head. 

You were at one of the fanciest restaurants in Barcelona. Everyone was wearing a fancy dress—you were wearing one too, Alexia on the other hand was wearing a dapper three-piece suit.

You had a birthday hat in your clutch from Alba earlier and once you both had ordered, you took it out and gave it to your girlfriend. You jokingly asked her to wear it, not expecting her to do so.

But when she took it with a roll of her eyes, “anything to make you smile” falling off her lips and she ended up wearing the thing throughout your dinner, you had no more doubt that it was you Alexia wanted.

You didn't have any football silks, you weren’t a World Champion, you weren’t Jenni Hermoso.

But with every waking moment you spent with Alexia, you could feel how much she loved you despite it all.

Especially when Alexia got down on one knee and especially when you had a mini-you running around. You knew that there was nothing in this world that could change what you had with her.

(Not even Jenni Hermoso, who is now someone you call a best friend and the godmother to your daughter).

—

thanks for reading, let me know your thoughts!!🫶🏼

[gracieslatte]

from nearly getting into a punch up with mini this time last year to becoming aunty katie on harper duty and sitting with the foords, she’s winning all the wag awards

[gracieslatte]

oh I know sammy was YELLING at the screen that whole match

[gracieslatte]

HARDEST LAUNCH OF ALL HARD LAUNCHES

[gracieslatte]

the reason

alexia putellas x reader

When you showed up to your first training session of the season, you weren’t expecting to see your ex-something standing in the middle of the locker room.

; some angst, happy ending though, just a bunch of miscommunication 

“Y/N! You’re here, perfect,” Jonas gave you a huge smile as he directed you towards the woman you hadn’t seen in months. “Meet our new signing!”

You swore you’d never seen Jonas smile that big during your time at Arsenal, which was understandable if he managed to sign Alexia Putellas to this damn club.

You looked at her outstretched hand, acting as if this was the first time you two met—acting as if she didn’t break your heart just a few months ago. 

At once, the memories came rushing in and you looked up to meet her eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart started to pick up its pace. For a second you were shocked at how familiar it was, to have her staring at you like you were interesting to her, but you quickly shook it off. You knew it was all a lie, a façade. Alexia was good at making people think they matter to her when she couldn't care less about anybody but herself. 

You ignored her and you ignored Jonas’ yelp of surprise when you didn’t kiss the ground Alexia walked on. You went straight to your cubby and did your usual routine.

Training gear checked.

Boots checked.

Hair tie checked.

Alexia standing next to you—

“What?” you hadn’t meant to sound harsh, or maybe you did. You didn’t really care.

Out of all the things you expected to come out of her mouth, an apology for breaking your heart, or a simple ‘how are you’ or whatever, you hadn't expected her to say, “I missed you.”

You were indifferent to her being here before (that was what you convinced yourself anyway), but now you were livid. 

“Seriously?” your voice apparently was louder than you intended because you could feel a couple of eyes on you.

“Y/N…” maybe it was hearing her say your name again after all this time. Maybe it was the way she said your name with a hint of longing when she had no right to do so after what she did to you. Maybe it was the way she was standing there within your reach after you thought that you were never going to see her again.

You think it was all of it combined that made the ache in your heart, which you’ve managed to seal tight all this time, to seep through the seams and inject itself back into your veins.

Taking a deep breath, you will yourself to stare into her eyes. “Go fuck yourself, Alexia.”

You heard everyone inhale a sharp breath all at once as you exited the room. You definitely were getting an earful from Jonas but you didn’t care.

Alexia could really go fuck herself for all you care.

—

It was Leah that Jonas assigned to talk to you.

You hated it because aside from the fact that she was your captain in the Lionesses, she also had known you since you were barely in diapers, seeing as your mothers were best friends. 

You were hiding in your usual spot, the old storage room that no one used anymore. 

“Want to talk about why you were so rude to one of the best footballers on this planet?”

You scoffed. Great. Even your best friend was kissing Alexia’s ass. “She’s overrated.”

Leah sat down on the floor next to you, grabbing the back of your shirt when you went to stand up. “You’re not going anywhere, mate.”

“You can't make me talk,” you scowled at her. “I just hate her. Don’t really care if I was rude to Jonas’ newest favourite.”

Leah laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Chill out will you! You’re acting so tense.”

“I’m not tense! It’s just been a shitty morning, with her being here and all.”

“I feel like there’s something I’m missing,” Leah looked at you questioningly. “You’re jealous of her or something?

You barked out a laugh at that. That was good. “Hell no. Why would I be jealous of her? Like I said, she’s overrated.”

“Then?”

“Then nothing,” you rolled your eyes. God, why was it so hard to be moody about your ex in peace?

“If it’s nothing then you wouldn't mind going back there and being nice to her, yeah?”

“No.” 

There was no way in hell you would be nice to Alexia. No. fucking. way.

“Y/N. Jonas is counting on me to talk some sense into you, he's scared Alexia is going to resign on the first day here if her teammate is rude to her.”

That sounded like a great idea, you thought. Just as you smiled at Leah, she was frowning at you.

“Y/N. Be nice. Please. For me?”

You always did have a soft spot for Leah.

“Fine.”

—

Everyone was already at the field when you returned with Leah.

You weren't sure who witnessed your little interaction with Alexia earlier so you kept to yourself for a bit, not wanting anyone to ask anymore questions.

You got through the training smoothly and it was over before you knew it. You kept on avoiding Alexia’s gazes, trying your best to pretend that she wasn't there at all. In your mind, Alexia was still in Barcelona, right where she should be.

Not in London Colney here with you. Definitely not.

“Hola.”

Damn it.

You were putting your stuff into your duffle bag aggressively, lifting your head just for a second to glare at her. 

Alexia seemed unperturbed at your cold gaze, sitting down on the cubby next to yours so she could look up at you and catch your eyes.

You were always a sucker for her stupid puppy dog eyes.

But you were stronger now. You were.

“Y/N,” she tried again, her voice a whisper. “Can we talk? ”

You replied with a simple “No.”

“We are going to be teammates, we should at least be civil to one another, no?

“No,” you rolled your eyes, who did she think she was? “I’ll pretend you don't exist and you can do the same.”

Alexia scoffed at you. “Why are you being so difficult?”

That got your attention. “Me?” you raise your voice and Leah suddenly stepped in between you two, probably fearing that things might escalate.

“Hey,” Leah gave you a pointed look. “People are watching.”

You glanced back and people were watching, most had a curious look on their faces. No one knew you and Alexia knew each other, but everyone knew you and they knew you were anything but hostile. So this attitude might be slightly disconcerting for them.

You took a deep breath and willed yourself to calm down. You need time to process the events that happened today.

“I’m just gonna go,” you told Leah. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Not sparing Alexia another glance, you grabbed your bag and took off.

Tomorrow. You’ll face her again tomorrow and maybe you can try to be civil with her. Only for the sake of your teammates.

—

“You know… if you keep on staring at me like that, one might think you’re in love with me.”

You thought you were being discreet with your gazes towards the brunette who was sitting a few seats apart from you, acting as if you were staring at the ocean instead.

But apparently that wasn’t the case and as soon as you heard those words come out of her mouth, you choked on your ice tea and patted your chest repeatedly to stop the coughing fit. 

The brunette beside you laughed and you halted your movements to stare again because wow, the pictures really didn’t do Alexia Putellas justice.

She turned towards you and held out a hand for you to shake. “I’m Alexia.”

You accepted her hand with a bashful smile. “I know.”

She raises her eyebrows at you.

You could feel the blush rising to your cheeks, trying to play it cool with a simple shrug of your shoulders. “Who doesn't know Alexia Putellas at this point? It would be weird if I didn’t.” you paused. “And I wasn’t staring at you, by the way.”

“Oh, you weren’t?” Alexia smirked. She slid into the empty seat between you and you could feel your heartbeat racing once she caught a whiff of Alexia’s perfume. A strong flowering scent. Huh. You've never thought about what Alexia Putellas would smell like, but it probably wasn’t this. It somehow made you even more attracted to her.

You nodded, playing with the straw of your drink. “I totally wasn’t.”

“Then what were you staring at?” 

“The… sea.”

Alexia laughed once more and you couldn’t help but laugh with her. Her laugh was infectious.

“Okay, sure,” Alexia took a sip of her drink. “Just so you know though, I wouldn’t mind if you were staring at me.”

You hummed, pretending to be in thought. “I’d rather not.”

“No?” Alexia raised her eyebrows. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “Then you’d think I’m into you, or something.”

“Well aren’t you?”

You clicked your tongue. Her ego was through the roof. You get it though, if you looked like that, you’d think everyone was into you too. “No.”

“Your stare suggests otherwise.” Alexia smiled smugly.

You stepped down from your stool and put your hand out. “Why don’t you take a stroll around the beach with me?”

When Alexia was still staring at your outstretched hand, you motioned for her to take it. Alexia complied and let you drag her away to the shore. 

“It was getting kinda boring, wasn't it? Just sitting by yourself at the bar,” you explained, swaying your hands back and forth as you walked along the coast. “I don't know if you know me, but I play football professionally too. For Arsenal and England. I’m here on holiday with my family but they can get kind of crazy sometimes so I want to have some alone time for a bit.”

“I know the feeling. I'm here with my sister but she drives me crazy most of the time.” you laughed along with her. 

“So you’re free then,” you halted your steps. “Spend the day with me?”

Alexia gave you a huge smile and you wanted the waves to swallow you whole, because how can someone be so gorgeous?

“I thought the answer was obvious the moment I let you drag me away from my unfinished cocktail.”

“Sorry,” you laughed. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“That’s okay,” Alexia leaned forward and whispered in your ear. “As long as you admit that you’re attracted to me at the end of the day.”

You gulped, the close proximity was making your head spin. “Never,” you stuck your tongue out at her.

“We’ll see.” Alexia leaned back and grinned. “For now, can we go see some dolphins?”

You had already seen the dolphins the previous day. You hated it because the dolphins thought it was a good idea to splash water all over your brand new Dior bag and you swore you would never come back. 

But Alexia was looking at you with wide, excited eyes and a smile so bright that you didn’t have the heart to say no to her. So you went to see the dolphins and you did everything Alexia wanted.

The entire day, Alexia didn’t let go of your hand and you swore you had never been happier.

—

You and Alexia ended up talking to each other everyday ever since the Ibiza trip. She didn't exactly tell you that she felt the same way you did, but you figured that her constant flirting was supposed to clue you in. 

It went on for months and before you knew it, you were hopelessly in love with Alexia. 

Alexia was kind, thoughtful, she was so passionate about the sport that you both loved so dearly and you were just a goner. 

Who wouldn’t be, honestly?

It was certainly a bonus point that she was super attractive too. 

In the morning when Alexia would call you on facetime, and you were greeted with her face still full of sleep, blanket engulfing her as she recounts to you her plans for the day, you couldn't do anything but stare helplessly at how good she looked and how extra raspy her voice was. 

You and Alexia never put a label on things but you figured you were sort of… dating? Or it was a… situationship? Whatever it was, you knew it was beyond the level of friendship.

You loved your friends and you called them on the daily, but you couldn't imagine doing it to this extent. Alexia would call you in the mornings and at night. You’d call her when you got off training, you’d call her when you heard a funny joke Kyra said and you wanted to tell Alexia about it. She would call you when she got anxious because she was starting her match and her doubts of still being not good enough post ACL still haunted her.

You loved Leah, your bestest friend in the whole world, but you couldn't imagine telling her the things you told Alexia in the early hours of the morning. There were some things that you didn’t think you'd share with anyone, but with Alexia, it was… simple. It was easy. It felt right.

But maybe it was all in your head.

It went on for so long that you didn’t even think labeling it was important anymore. You were Alexia’s and she was yours.

She told you she loved you, for fuck’s sake.

She told you she loved you and one day when you were at camp, Lucy mentioned how Alexia was seeing someone.

Someone who you thought was you, but how could that be if Lucy was talking about having a double date at the best paella place in Barcelona with Alexia and her girlfriend when you were all the way in London. 

Apparently Alexia’s girlfriend was someone named Olga and they'd been dating for a few months and your blood pressure went through the roof.

A few months.

You thought you were dating Alexia for a few months (one year actually, but you didn’t give a fuck anymore).

You ignored Alexia’s call that night because, what the fuck? She had a girlfriend in Spain and you were what? Her side piece? That thought made you sick.

You didn't reply to Alexia’s messages anymore. Too hurt, too embarrassed at everything.

don’t text me again, Alexia 

I mean it

You declined all her calls and never bothered replying to her texts that were pleading to tell her what was wrong.

Eventually when weeks passed by and you still gave no response, she stopped trying.

You didn't know if you were relieved or disappointed.

—

It seemed like the universe had something against you because as soon as you got out of your car, Alexia was also getting out of her car across from you.

If you weren't so pissed off at the reminder that she was actually a part of Arsenal now, you would laugh at how comical this sight was—you scowling at her and Alexia scowling back at you.

“Bon día,” Alexia had the decency to greet you.

“Morning,” you grumpily greeted back.

You walked side by side into the building. you didn't know why, you could have walked faster, or slower, or turned in the other direction so you wouldn't have to walk by her side, but you did it anyway.

Despite only having hung out with her in person a few times during your time together/not together, you kinda missed her.

“Is this you finally being civil with me?” 

“I still hate you.”

“Okay ouch,” Alexia placed a hand over her heart, pouting at you. You continued to scowl at her, trying to hide how your heart had betrayed you and skipped a beat.

Before you had the chance to respond, you two arrived at the locker rooms. Only Leah was there, who immediately came over and sling an arm around your shoulder and grinned cheekily at you. “Best mates already, are we?”

You flicked Leah’s forehead, causing her to yelp and do the same to you. “Leave me alone, Leah,” you grumbled.

“Someone’s moody this morning,” Leah whispered to Alexia, to which the latter hummed in agreement.

“Have I mentioned how much I hate you both?”

Leah chuckled, whispering something to Alexia that you didn't quite catch. Nor did you care enough to find out. 

How funny was your life right now? Your best friend and your… something were friends. Ugh. Your ex-something, now your teammate. Ugh.

You were too caught up in unpacking your things that you didn't notice Leah calling your name.

“Y/N!” 

You turned around and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“I’ve been calling you twice! Alexia distracting you that much?” Leah said teasingly.

You looked towards Alexia who was changing her clothes, leaving her in a Nike sports bra and her abs on full display. Fuck. Bad idea.

“Oh fuck off,” you quickly turned back around, feeling the heat rushed to your cheeks.

“Stop being so moody,” Leah shook her head in amusement. “You’re terrible when you’re moody.”

“Not moody.”

Leah chuckled like she couldnt believe you but she let it go. “We’re planning a welcome party for Alexia this weekend at my place. You’ll be there, yeah?”

Your reply was immediate. “No.”

“Oh I’m hurt,” speak of the devil. Alexia joined in on your conversation with Leah, now all dressed in her Arsenal training kit. Your eyes raked up and down her body. You didn’t have time to admire her in her Arsenal kit yesterday. (You wouldn't admit that it looked good on her.) “You won’t attend your own teammate’s welcoming party? Dios mío. So much for being a team.”

“Not if the teammate is you,” you retorted.

Alexia pouted at you. Leah looked like she was having the time of her life watching your interaction. “Do not be like that, darling,” Alexia teased. You badly wanted to smack her in the face. “You did say you have always wanted us to play together. Now we are on the same team and you are acting like you hate me?” 

At that your eyes bulged out of its sockets. Leah looked mostly confused. “I never said that!”

Alexia only smirked at you as she passed by, blowing you a kiss before she went off to the pitch. 

“She’s so bloody annoying,” you grumbled after her. “I never said anything like that!”

—

The first time you argued with Alexia on the pitch, it was entirely your fault. You could admit this. 

Alexia was dribbling the ball—looking so good doing it, like everything was so effortless for her, that you sort of got annoyed and went in to tackle her. It could’ve ended badly if it weren’t for Alexia’s quick reflexes.

“Oh come on! That’s a yellow!” Alexia looked genuinely pissed off, she quickly stood up, throwing her hands in the air. 

“Oops,” you shrugged, mockingly patting her cheeks. “Good reflexes though.”

All your teammates looked away as Jonas scolded you in front of everyone—not that you care, you weren’t hearing a word he said. You were too busy sending a smirk Alexia’s way. You didn’t look guilty in the slightest and that was probably what made Alexia’s blood boil.

She took her water bottle and she didn’t just spray water on you, she turned the cap and poured the whole thing on top of your head.

“Oops,” Alexia mocked your earlier words. 

Oh you were livid. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!” 

Alexia leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You should work on your reflexes, babe,” before walking away. She didn’t get to walk very far before you ran after her and jumped on her back, tackling her to the ground.

You didn’t know what you wanted to do but you were so annoyed at Alexia—annoyed that she was able to get under your skin, annoyed that she was so attractive and you were still so attracted to her even though she broke your heart! It was ridiculous.

You were tackling each other on the field, and you could hear Alexia start to laugh and you realized it was because you were tickling her and Alexia was ticklish.

“Y/N! Stop! What the hell!” You sure as hell weren’t stopping now.

(It was definitely not because of how addictive the sound of Alexia’s laughter was.)

“Say sorry!” You shouted back, you were straddling her at this point, your hands still poking at her sides.

“No!”

“Alexia! Say sorry!”

“No! Get off!”

“I’m not getting off until you say sorry!”

All your teammates were watching the scene with bewilderment on their faces. Earlier, when you tackled Alexia, everyone was holding their breath, anticipating the bomb that was due to explode anytime (the bomb here being the tension created by you and Alexia being in each other’s vicinity). 

Now, everyone was just amused. You two were still taking turns straddling each other, trying to outpower the other, a scowl ever present on your face (although if one were to look closely, you did let a smile slip). Everyone thought you hated each other. Jonas was making himself go crazy trying to find the history between you, needing to find a solution to make you like each other as one of you leaving was not an option.

Now, everyone could see that you two were fine. Some unresolved tension, for sure. Full on hatred? Not so much.

—

The days passed by pretty quickly and the next thing you knew you were standing in front of Leah’s door, about to enter Alexia’s welcoming party, the one you were adamant to not show up to.

Leah then threatened to take away your PlayStation for a month to which you finally caved in with the biggest sigh and “Remember Lee, it’s not about me wanting to be friends with Alexia, okay? I literally cannot live if you revoke my PlayStation privileges!”

You entered Leah’s place with an even more sour mood than you were at training this week.

Training was fine, as always. Having Alexia there to train with you in London Colney was not fine.

(Although you couldn’t help but notice how well you and Alexia played with each other, managing to have some sort of telepathy that let you two find one another on the pitch. 

Just your damn luck.)

You made your rounds and spoke with everyone. You were less tense now, somehow having adjusted to Alexia being around.

You could see the relief in Leah and Kim’s face when they saw you weren’t trying to start fights with the new signing anymore.

So much so that they decided it was you and Alexia that had to be the one to get more beers in Leah’s pantry. You took the instructions with a scowl, Alexia trailing behind you like a lost puppy.

You entered Leah’s pantry (if one could even call it that, it was spacious, Leah had more space than one living alone would need), and you were about to tell Alexia to hold the door open and not let it shut because the handle was broken and Leah still haven’t gotten it fixed when Alexia shut the door closed.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“Guess we’re stuck here.”

—

After both of you had tried your luck by pulling the door handle and nothing seemed to work, you two settled on the floor, sitting on opposite ends of the room.

You were scowling at the blonde, who was looking everywhere but you, a guilty expression on her face.

“This is all your fault,” you were sulking. You both stupidly didn’t bring your phones and you couldn’t call anyone for help. “This is all your fault,” you repeated.

“I told you, I’m sorry,” Alexia mumbled, bringing her knees to her chest. You hated that she looked like a kicked puppy.

You sighed. Maybe you were being too harsh on her. “I’m surprised there hasn't been an uproar online with you leaving Barcelona,” you changed the subject.

Alexia raised an eyebrow at you, not expecting you to start another conversation apart from telling her that being stuck here was Alexia’s fault. “It hasn't been announced yet,” she clarified.

“Well, goodluck,” you felt bad for her. Just a bit. “They’re going to rip you apart for that. Unloyal, how you downgraded, and all that.”

Alexia let out a big sigh. “I know. I have prepared myself for it. The goodbye video is a good one though, it was so emotional, I even cried. I just hope people understand.”

You looked at her, you still couldn’t understand her. “I thought you loved Barça? You are quite literally a carbon copy of Leah with Arsenal.”

“I did. I do. I love the club with all my heart, you know that.”

When you didn't reply Alexia continued.

“There were a lot of factors, to put it simply. Financials, is one. I didn’t like that in order for me to receive more, someone has to get less. We won the Quadruple, we won a lot of fucking things for the club, there should be enough money going around. Anyway, I won’t go into detail because it is a lot more complicated than that. Then there was going to be changes, with Jona leaving and all. I didn’t like where it was headed.”

Alexia took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t want to leave everyone behind, but I felt that it was for the best. They still have Marta and Patri so I’m leaving them in good hands.”

“Sorry to hear that,” you murmured, now feeling guilty for your behaviour towards her ever since she got here.

Alexia turned to look at you and gone were the wistful look in her eyes. She looked serene—if that was even possible after leaving the club of your life.

“Then you were also a factor, definitely,” Alexia said so softly that you might have missed it. “I didn't know why you were suddenly ignoring me, I feel like I definitely did something wrong because we were fine one day and not the next. I want to apologize for whatever it was. I really do miss you.”

You could only look at her as you processed her words. Your loud laugh broke the silence “Me? You moved to shitty Arsenal because of me? Please be serious.”

Alexia laughed at that. “Don’t call your club shitty. I think it’s quite a good club. With an interesting league.”

“If you're comparing it to Barcelona—“

“I like it here so far,” Alexia interjected. “You should be proud of your club.”

“Of course I am—”

“And you’re here so it’s definitely a bonus point.”

“No, no, wait, just pause,” you ran your hand through your hair as you took a deep breath. What the fuck was going on. You stood up and started pacing the floor, Alexia looking at you expectantly. “You,” you pointed at her. “Moved to Arsenal, to bloody London,” you waved your hand around, “because of me?” you pointed at yourself in disbelief.

“One of the reasons, yes.”

“No!”

Alexia looked taken aback at your outburst, her face showing that she was amused at you. “What do you mean no?”

“No as in you're lying.”

“I’m not lying,” she rolled her eyes at you. 

“Yes, you are.”

Alexia mumbled some Catalan you didn't understand and stood up, inching closer to you. When she was about to take your hand, you immediately pulled away, “Stop,” you warned her, “you have a girlfriend.”

“What?” Now it was you who was taken aback by her outburst.

“I know all about your Spanish girlfriend,” you crossed your arms over your chest. “So cut it out.”

“I don’t have a Spanish girlfriend?” Alexia was confused and you were too, but you know she has a hot, Spanish girlfriend somewhere in Barcelona and it was igniting the rage in the pit of your stomach.

“Lucy told me that you went on a double date with her and Ona. While we were together,” you scoffed. “So not only do you have a girlfriend but you cheated.”

“What!” Alexia looked at you like you were crazy. “Cheated? Sí, I was in love with you, but we were never together?!”

Your jaw went slack at that, how could she?

“Never together- all the daily calls and texts and the I love you? Jesus, Alexia. What was all that?”

Realization seemed to dawn on her face at the same time as yours. There was a chance that… Alexia didn’t think you were together when you thought otherwise…?

“I didn’t—” Alexia sighed, shaking her head. “I thought we were friends!”

You groaned, palming your face. Oh my god. This must singlehandedly be the most humiliating point in your life. You were heartbroken over someone who didn't think you were together? “What kind of friends—”

“Okay, okay,” Alexia stepped closer to you, her hands reaching out in an attempt to touch yours. “Lo siento. I really am.” You let her touch you, Alexia immediately holding your hands and running soothing circles with her thumb.

“I didn't know you felt that way towards me, honestly,” Alexia continued. “I was trying to forget you, so I went out with someone for a bit but it was nothing serious. I—wait, was that why you stopped talking to me?”

Still feeling the embarrassment, you pulled your hands from her grip and began walking towards the door. Before you remembered that you were locked in. Great.

Alexia caught up to you, essentially blocking your path. Not that you could go anywhere anyway. 

“Y/N,” Alexia gave a small laugh and you frowned at her. What was so funny about this? “You thought we were together?”

Your frown deepend even further, hearing her say it out loud was so, so embarrassing. “Yeah, whatever, go ahead and laugh at me.”

Alexia turned serious at your tone. “I am not laughing at you. I promise,” she took your hands in hers. “I think it is… cute. We both suck at communication. I’m sorry.” Alexia brought your hands up to her lips, pressing the softest kiss to your knuckles. 

You wanted to die, in a good way. But you were still so embarrassed about this whole thing, so you remained quiet.

“I was in love with you,” Alexia clarified. “Still am. But I did not know that you feel the same—“

You groaned. “I don’t call my friends 24/7 or end everything with an ‘I love you’. Of course I was in love with you!”

“I am oblivious, I know!” Alexia laughed. “Sorry! But you never clarified things.”

“I thought it was obvious,” you pushed her shoulder halfheartedly. “If we were to date and you do those things with someone else, I would be concerned.”

“Never,” Alexia placed her hands around your waist, having you essentially pressed against her. “Sorry again about everything.”

“You should be,” you whispered, the close proximity making your heart beat wildly against your chest. “You broke my heart without knowing it.”

“Won’t ever do it again, te prometo,” Alexia rested her forehead against yours. Alexia filled all your senses and you were overcome with a wave of contentment. “Just so we are clear… you like me in a romantic sense and you want to date me, romantically, yes?”

You could only roll your eyes, grabbing her by the neck to pull her in for a kiss.

Suddenly the door flew open, causing you two to break apart. It was Leah, a bewildered look on her face with a screwdriver in hand. You didn’t even realize she was trying to open the door.

“I thought you two hated each other?!”

You opened your mouth to reply but you didn't get the chance to, not when Alexia grabbed your jaw to turn you towards her and placed her lips back on yours.

“Seriously?!”

You heard Leah muttering curse words as she slammed the door shut and Alexia giggling against your lips at the same time. You were the most content you had ever been.

—

bonus:

When you and Alexia weren’t throwing snide remarks at one another, people started to look at you weirdly, apart from Leah, obviously, who was sporting the biggest scowl on her face.

You didn't get a chance to talk to her after she caught you, your best friend prying the door open once more then left without a word, trying to act like a good host and preparing unnecessary foods and drinks for everyone. Basically, she was ignoring you.

You've known Leah all your life and you knew she was pissed that she was kept in the dark about your… developments with Alexia. To be fair, the developments did happen a few minutes before Leah got the door to open, so you didn't really have time to tell her.

Plus, you hadn't told her about how you and Alexia were sort of together but not really for a year and you knew Leah would be even more pissed that you decided to omit this from her. You loved Leah for it though. You knew she meant well. She was very protective over you.

You knew better than to approach Leah when she was like this, opting to leave her to brood in peace for a few days.

You would tell her about Alexia eventually, never really one to keep secrets from her. 

At the thought of Alexia, you instantly had a smile on your face.

You two were back to the way it was before—regular calls and texts, only this time you could meet each other for coffee in between the time you weren’t calling or texting each other.

This time, you two were on the same page. You were in love with each other. No one else. And you were dating each other—no one else.

Training became… eventful. 

Not only were you and Alexia civil, you two were making jokes with each other. At one point, you even managed to hug her discreetly, when no one was around—or so you thought anyway.

“Whoa.”

You instantly pulled back at the voice, it turned out to be Mariona, Alexia’s Spain teammate.

“Since when is La Reina a hugger?”

“Shut up, Mario,” Alexia glared at her, although you could see the small smile on her lips. “We are dating. Of course we hug. Just be thankful we were not in the middle of making out or doing something worse.”

What?

You could only stare at Alexia in shock, mouth hanging open. Mariona was the same, she was catatonic.

Whatever you were expecting to come out of Alexia’s mouth, it wasn't that.

“I think you broke poor Mario,” a voice chimed in from the doorway. “I was the one who walked in on their making out session,” Leah continued, stepping into the room. “That was pretty traumatizing.”

Leah was looking at you with that glint in her eyes, one that told you all was well. “You still mad at me Williamson?”

Leah scoffed. “Oh please. Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I didn’t tell you Ale and I were a thing, and because you had to walk in on me being all over her- in my defense, have you seen her? How could you not want to jump her bones—”

“Okay, nope!” Leah closed her eyes with a grimace, trying to burn the memory away. “Please, please keep it in your pants.”

You shook your head fondly at her, moving forward to engulf her in a hug. “Dinner at my place tonight?”

Leah pulled back and placed the sloppiest kiss on your cheek. “Sure, darling. I know you’ve missed me!”

“Lee! What the fuck!” Leah was giggling and you were shooting daggers at her. Alexia was looking at the both of you with amusement on her face. 

Mariona suddenly burst into laughter, taking everyone by surprise. “This is gold,” Mariona said in between her laughs. “So I am not the only one who moved countries for a girl?”

Alexia looked genuinely offended at the accusation. “I did not move here because of a girl!”

You wrapped your arms around her waist, “Oh you so did, babe. That’s okay, no one is holding it against you. I am pretty hot.”

Alexia was about to counter your statement when Mariona chimed in, an ear-splitting grin on her face, “I am going to go tell everyone about this.”

“What- no! Mario!” Alexia went to chase after the brunette who had made her exit. You could hear their voices echoing throughout the hall. “I moved here because of a lot of reasons, you know this!”

“So,” Leah kicked your shoe to get your attention. “Alexia, huh? Didn't you say she was overrated?”

“Shut up.”

[gracieslatte]

casual || alexia putellas x reader ||

alexia reminds you that you don't have a relationship.

alexia pauses when she walks back into her bedroom to see you sitting up in her bed. a flurry of feelings bubble up inside of her that she shoves down as she moves towards you. you're usually gone by now, alexia can't remember the last time she had to actively kick you out. you've been sleeping together for almost three years now. alexia assumed that you had the routine down already.

"what are you still doing here? are you hurt or something?" you don't like the way that alexia is asking you these questions. it feels like an obligation, when all you wanted to do was rest. alexia had put you through the ringer, pushing you further than you had been pushed in a while. on top of that, you had just started your new exercise routine for the upcoming season.

"no, just tired."

"well, you aren't sleeping over," alexia told you. you narrowed your eyes at her tone, but didn't say anything. alexia rarely spoke to you like that outside of games or practice, so it definitely took you aback a bit.

"alexia, it's almost 2 in the morning," you whined. she didn't seem to budge an inch. she just stood there watching you gather your clothes up and get dressed. "i always let you stay when it's late. i know that i'd feel awful if something happened to you on your way home."

"that's nice, you're such a saint. wait, let me see if the pope will canonize you for your generous heart." alexia had never been so sassy with you before. it wasn't the most mature thing that you could have done, but you found yourself shoving her as you moved past her.

"that's not what i'm asking for. maybe i just want you not to act like such a dick when we're alone. we've been doing this for too long, alexia. i know that you care about me," you told her. alexia scoffed at this before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

"that's funny, really. i like your joke," alexia said as she continued to laugh. the sound usually brought a smile to your face, but now, it was vicious and cut deep.

"it's not a joke," you grumbled.

"don't you get it? you were always just entertainment for me. this isn't love, we aren't going to get married. i wouldn't even date you, not when i know all of the filthy things you'll let someone do to you for a bit of attention." you had never seen alexia get this mean before. there had been close calls, usually made up to you with a weekend getaway and special attention, but this felt different. "did you think i loved you or something?"

"fuck this," you muttered under your breath. you tried to turn away from alexia before she could see you cry, but it was too late.

"this is your own fault, babe. how could you be so foolish to think i ever loved you? like, really?" at this, you began to run out of alexia's as fast as you could. you didn't even bother to stop and get your keys, instead just walking as fast as you could towards the first person you could think to.

…

"nena, i wish that you would just tell me what happened," mapi said as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders. it had been nearly a week since you had stormed out of alexia's, and she hadn't once tried to contact you. in that time, you had spent every single night at your older sister maria's apartment.

it was difficult not letting her know what happened. alexia was mapi's best friend, and the fact that you had been sleeping together was a secret. you couldn't ruin your sister's strongest friendship by telling her that alexia was the one who had broken your heart like this, even if you wanted to watch alexia suffer.

"the girl i was seeing, we weren't on the same page. she didn't want the same things i did, so we went our separate ways," you told her. mapi sighed in disappointment, but continued to hold you close. "i just want to move on, that's all."

"i get that, but do you have to move on so far away?" mapi asked you. the loan offer to play in the nwsl was not a new one, but this time, it wasn't just a loan. they wanted you to play for the washington spirit when the next nwsl season started up. "your english isn't even that good."

"maria, i'm going. barcelona isn't the right place for me anymore, even though i love it here. i'm going to miss you and everybody, but i need to leave," you told her. mapi cleared her throat in an attempt to fight the lump forming in her throat, but she let you stick with your decision. you were just as stubborn as she could be, and if this was what you thought was right, you'd stick to your guns until the very end.

"you'd better visit as often as you can."

…

telling the team was hard. avoiding alexia's gaze during the announcement was harder. alexia was good at masking her emotions when it came to you, but this time, she slipped up. it was the tiniest deflation, but you noticed it. even worse, ingrid, and by proxy, mapi also noticed.

"(y/n), we need to talk." you hadn't expected alexia to approach you as the team cleared out. tensions had been kind of high between you over the past few weeks. everybody had noticed, but chalked it down to transfer rumors. barcelona was losing a lot of good players, ones that everybody knew helped with the chemistry and flow of things.

"actually, i think we all need to talk," mapi said, spooking the both of you. she grabbed onto the back of your neck, as well as alexia's. ingrid stood by the door to make sure nobody came in, but also stuck around to keep mapi from murdering alexia on the spot. "when were either of you planning on telling me that you were seeing each other?"

"we weren't seeing each other," you told your sister.

"bullshit, try again," mapi said. she glanced over at alexia, giving her the chance to fess up. "alexia, how long have you been dating my sister?"

"we were never dating, i swear. it was a casual hookup, that's all," alexia said. that may have been the truth, but it wasn't what mapi wanted to hear at all. the defender slammed her hands down on the table and grabbed onto the edges of it, knuckles white from the strength of her grip. "mapi, it didn't feel like anything to tell you."

"i asked you to look out for my baby sister when she made the choice to play here. was it some kind of sick revenge? if i had doen this to alba, what would you have done?" mapi asked. alexia paled as the thoughts ran wild inside of her brain. you had expected mapi to be pissed, but not calm about it.

"maria, i'm sorry," alexia apologized. mapi shoved the table forward as she jumped away from it. ingrid moved forward at this to offer some comfort for her girlfriend.

"i'm not who you need to apologize to! you broke (y/n)'s heart and now she's moving all the way to america! she's leaving, and i can't talk her out of it. i can't talk her out of it and ask her to stay here with you for another season. she's leaving, and i hate you for it." mapi fell into ingrid's grasp and broke down in tears.

"i think you should leave," ingrid said to alexia. your soon to be former captain practically sprinted out of the room. you sat there awkwardly as ingrid comforted mapi. you wanted to apologize for upsetting your sister, but you knew that it would only make mapi feel more guilt. both of you needed to feel your feelings, and as much as you wanted to be there for each other, it would have to be distanced.

[gracieslatte]

broke your heart, I’ll put it back together

alexia putellas x reader

In which Alexia is an excellent footballer yet a terrible, terrible girlfriend. You still love her nonetheless.

Alexia never had much experience with the love that she saw in movies: all the hugs and the “I love you”s and the heart-to-heart conversations. Alexia thought they were too cliché anyway. Especially the “I love you”s. Some people give proclamations of love too easily and not mean a single thing. 

Her sister loved to laugh every time people misjudged Alexia to be someone emotionless and cold, when in reality she was just “an awkward introvert who’s terrible at anything related to love and romance and all that jazz,” (Alba’s words). 

Although Alexia would say that that was false. Just because she turned awkward whenever someone showed a bit of affection didn’t mean that Alexia sucked at romance. Alexia had watched enough Nicholas Sparks movies to understand what she had to do when the time came. Flowers. Chocolates. Kissing in the rain. Simple.

(“Simple. Yup, definitely. That’s obviously why you’re still single at the age of thirty.”

“Excuse me! Puta.”

“Should I set you up with someone? Yeah. I’m gonna set you up with someone.”

“Alba, fuck off.”)

So maybe Alexia was thirty and still single. So what? Alexia just never thought of relationships to be that big of a deal. And it definitely wasn’t because of how she was as a person “distant and reserved”—or so how Alba described her to be. Her job was already taking too much of her time as it is.

Alexia was the best footballer in the world, and aside from trainings and matches to play, it also required back-to-back meetings and her full attention and wow, Alexia really was going to die alone as a cat lady which was so much worse because she was allergic to cats.

“Your turn, Ale.”

Alexia turned her gaze towards Mapi. It was media day at the Estadi Johan Cruyff. Alexia always had loathed doing interviews but it was part of the job. “How was it?”

“Fine as usual,” Mapi shrugged, flopping on the empty bench next to Alexia. “Have a feeling you will enjoy this one though.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows, moving to stand up. “Why?”

Mapi had a cheeky look on her face. “The interviewer is definitely your type.”

Alexia threw her jacket at Mapi’s face, causing the latter to laugh. “I will gladly say I told you so later! Just you wait!”

Alexia entered one of the rooms that was designated for her interview. It was going to be a fun and lighthearted video. Alexia couldn’t really remember the name of the media that she was assigned to, she had a lot on her mind lately. 

Especially since her family was throwing a get-together over the weekend and now both her mother and Alba were pestering her over bringing someone. Alba putting ideas into Eli’s head that Alexia should be seeing someone at this age and Eli quickly agreeing that she was spending too much time on football—

“Miss Putellas? Hi, nice to meet you.”

Alexia’s mouth went agape.

“I’m y/n and this is my team, Robert and Camila. Thank you for having us.”

On second thought, maybe Alba was right. Maybe Alexia really was destined to be the typical career woman who focused too much on work and never had time for love, especially since she was cold and distant and was really, really downright terrible at romance, because there was no way that her heart was doing somersaults when she should be working. This was awful timing. She was so unprofessional.

Her heart was definitely not skipping a beat because of an interviewer who looked to be in her twenties—oh god, Alexia was definitely not crushing on someone who looked like she was still in university.

But the moment you smiled, Alexia knew she was screwed

—

“Fuck you, Alba.”

“Well, Alexia Putellas, just so you know I do have hundreds of girls lining up wanting to fuck me.”

Alexia groaned into her phone. “First of all, ew! Not funny. I hate you.”

Alba laughed. “What did I do this time?”

“You planted these stupid, stupid thoughts into my head! I was thinking about being single so much that you made me have a crush on someone who’s supposed to interview me—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. How is this my fault?”

“I don’t know!” Alexia exclaimed. “I went into the room and she was there with her stupid cute vest and little notebook in hand and her hair was brown and wavy but not too wavy, it was just perfect the way it falls perfectly down her shoulders and her stupid smile. She was smiling at me, Alba. At me. Smiling.”

“Oookay,” Alba dragged out. “When I said you should find someone I didn’t mean a sugar baby.”

“Alba!”

“What? An interviewer? Journalist? I doubt she’s making a lot per year—”

Alexia groaned even more. “Please don’t go around saying shit like this to anyone else.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Whatever, you’re no help,” Alexia stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, making sure that she looked fine. Not that she wanted to impress you—she just wanted to look fine to someone who was going to interview her. Yeah, that was it. “I'll talk to you later.”

“Going back to your new lover?”

“Shut up,” Alexia unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom. “I ran to the bathroom because I freaked out.”

Alba’s laugh was so loud that people in the hallways glanced at Alexia as she passed by. “Real smooth. You're totally good at romance. An expert. The real life Romeo—”

Alexia hung up and plopped her phone in the pocket of her tracksuit. She could get through this. She had played in front of thousands, she went through people criticizing her every move as if they were better than her. She wasn’t nervous then, why should she be nervous now?

“Sorry, where were we?” Alexia said as soon as she reentered the room. She took her seat, you on the other side of the camera, still with that damn smile on your face.

“I was just about to tell you that I have always wanted to interview you,” you replied.

“Me?” Alexia squeaked, immediately clearing her throat nervously. 

—No, not nervously. Alexia didn’t get nervous. Fuck.

“Yes. You’re a very interesting person,” you fidgeted with the notepad and pen in your hands, your shoes tapping on the floor slightly. Alexia realized that you were nervous, and somehow the thought placed a smile on her face.

“How long have you been working for …Dazn? You could pass as someone who hasn’t graduated university—not that I’m saying you’re not qualified to do your job or anything, you just look really young- not that it’s a bad thing! Lo siento. I’ll just stop talking.��

Real smooth, Alexia. Real smooth.

“Well,” you chuckled. “To answer your question, one: just for a little while and two: you’re kind of right.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled bashfully. “I’m twenty-five years old, still in university, but for my masters.”

“I see,” Realization dawned on Alexia’s face and she had to look to the side to hide away her smile. A five year age gap. Not bad at all. 

…Not that it was important, though. Definitely not important. “What are you majoring in?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Isn’t this supposed to be me interviewing you?”

Alexia laughed. “I suppose so.”

“Should we jump into it then?”

“Fire away.”

—

As soon as you left, Alexia couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the day. She didn’t know whether it was because of how stupidly charming you were or because of your addictive smile—okay, no. It was probably not because of you at all. You, who she barely knew. You, with the stars in your eyes, staring at Alexia as if you adored her to bits and wanted to know every single detail about her, including Alexia’s favourite food.

“She asked the question out of nowhere, Albs. We were talking about the upcoming season the second before.” Alexia recalled.

“That does seem pretty random.” Alba replied in between bites of her food.

“Right?! It was like she was done with all her questions, but she wanted to get to know me further—”

Alexia’s sentence was cut off by Alba’s laughter. “Don’t get too cocky now, Ale. Just because you have a crush on her doesn’t mean she’s into you too.”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “I don’t have a crush on her. I can admit she’s attractive. And funny. And smart. Does not mean I have a crush on her.”

“Seems like you do,” Alba said, a smirk forming on her lips. “Which is great! Haven’t I been telling you to find someone? This is super great.”

“I’m not gonna date someone years younger than me, Alba,” Alexia cut into her steak and took a bite. Yup. She wasn’t going to date someone who was five years younger than her.

“She’s twenty-five, that’s nothing.”

Alexia narrowed her eyes at the brunette in front of her. “…How do you know her age? I never told you her age.”

“Google exists,” Alba said simply. “And remember the girl I’m sort-of-seeing-but-not-really?”

“Marta,” Alexia nodded.

“Maria,” Alba corrected. “She’s your girl’s best friend.”

Alexia paused her fork mid-air. “What?”

Alba hummed. “They're on the way here as we speak.”

“What?!” Alexia repeated, a clang echoing throughout her dining room as her fork fell to her plate.

“I invited them over for drinks.”

Alexia palmed her face and groaned. “I think I missed the part where you invited them over to my place without my acknowledgement.”

“Oh whatever, hermana,” Alba waved her off. “Stop acting as if I don’t live here.”

“You don’t,” Alexia reminded.

“Your place is my place and all that,” Alba teased.

“Alba,” Alexia felt like strangling Alba. Or anything to wipe that grin off her face—

The doorbell interrupted them.

Alba squeaked and jumped out of her chair. “That’s them!”

Alexia opened her mouth to say something but Alba was already out of the room before she could utter a word. Damn it.

Alexia forced herself to stay cool, following after Alba and sighing when she neared the front door and saw a girl she’d seen in Alba’s pictures and you.

“Hello,” Alexia greeted. 

“Amor, this is my grumpy and very single sister, Alexia,” Alba pointed at Alexia and Alexia slapped Alba’s hand away.

“I’m Alexia,” Alexia put her hand out, her smile widening when she caught your eyes. Okay, so maybe she didn’t hate Alba that much.

“I know, wow, it’s an honor,” your best friend shook Alexia’s hands. “You’re a legend.”

Alexia laughs, her cheeks turning red. “Thank you.” She turned to you and gave a little wave. “I don’t think introductions are necessary, is it?”

“Hi, Miss Putellas,” you said. Alexia hated how addicted she was to your voice despite having just met you today.

“Oh no. Alexia is fine, please.”

“Okay then,” you grinned and Alexia swore she could die on the spot. “Alexia it is.”

—

“So, Alexia,” you started. You were seated on one couch, Alba and Maria occupying the smaller seater to your left. No one seemed to be paying attention to the movie anymore. Alexia couldn’t even remember what the damn plot of the movie was. You, as it turned out, smelled really good and it was very addicting—and Alexia was insane. Insane for developing a tiny crush on you when you two had just met today. 

You looked like you didn’t know what to say, settling with, “Nice place.”

Alexia gave a soft laugh. “Thank you? There’s more that I haven’t shown you actually.”

“Yeah?” you sounded like you wanted to have Alexia show you around.

Alexia darted her eyes towards her sister and her ‘not-so-date’ to see that they had both fallen asleep. Alexia contemplated whether being alone with you would be something she should be doing or not, and after a moment she decided that there wasn’t any reason for her to not want to be alone with you. 

So Alexia stood up and offered a hand out for you to take. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

—

Five minutes into being alone with you and walking around Alexia’s house—or mansion, as you called it—Alexia discovered five things about you.

You had two dogs, Salt and Pepper, and Alexia could tell how much you loved them with the way you excitedly told the story about how you got them.

You were an only child and your parents spoiled you to bits and they supported you in everything you did, all the way from the United States.

You were American.

You were taking your masters in sports science and Alexia made a mental note to talk to the physios at Barça on whether they have a vacant spot for you. Not because Alexia wanted to see you everyday, but because she was sure you were a certified genius.

You were hilarious and made Alexia laugh a lot. Alexia wanted more of you.

You were in the middle of retelling how your day went and Alexia somehow really wanted to kiss you, which was dumb and stupid, considering how she barely knew you. 

You got excited over the littlest things, you talked animatedly about how you saw a dog on your way to Alexia’s place that looked a lot like your own and you gushed about how the dog barked excitedly at you. Alexia found it adorable, despite being confused on how a dog can bark ‘excitedly’.

“I’m sorry I talk a lot,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ears. 

“Don’t be,” Alexia bumped your shoulders lightly as you two continued your walk around her house. “It’s cute.”

You playfully rolled your eyes. Alexia could see the red on the tips of your ears. Adorable. “Can we go outside?” you asked, changing the subject.

“Sure,” Alexia led you towards the nearest door that leads to her backyard. “The pool is on the other side, this is my flower garden.”

“You have a flower garden,” you stated. 

Alexia hummed in reply. “I love looking at flowers. They are pretty.”

Once you stepped outside, Alexia felt her teeth chatter, cursing herself for not wearing anything more appropriate for the cold night air. When she was about to ask you if you wanted to head back inside, a jacket was draped around her shoulders and Alexia was surrounded with the scent of your vanilla perfume.

“y/n, you don’t have to—”

“Take it,” you insisted. “You’re freezing.”

“You’re gonna freeze.” 

Alexia shook off the black jacket and was about to place it around your shoulders but you walked ahead. “I won’t,” you walked backwards, smiling reassuringly. “I’m still wearing long-sleeves, see? I can handle it. Don’t worry.”

Alexia hesitated for a second before putting on the jacket. Alexia hugged herself tighter, it was still cold but also because the jacket smelled really nice. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you replied. You stopped walking and Alexia would know this if she wasn’t so busy looking elsewhere but you. 

The moment Alexia bumped into you, your hands immediately went to steady her, resting on Alexia’s forearms. Alexia could feel herself flush, her cheeks getting warm, profusely apologizing because she was usually never this clumsy.

You giggled, your hands were still sending fire to Alexia’s skin, your faces inches apart. “That’s okay.”

“I should’ve watched where I was going,” Alexia’s face was apologetic. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Really,” you were smiling at her. “A lot on your mind today?”

Alexia studied your face and nodded. Definitely a lot. She noticed that you had a mole under your left eyebrow. 

“Mind sharing?” you asked.

Alexia immediately stood up straighter and cleared her throat. You dropped your hands, but made no move to step away. “Just- work. Media day has never been my favourite.”

Yup. Work. Definitely not because Alexia couldn’t get your pretty eyes off her mind.

You narrowed your eyes at her and Alexia held her breath. You were really close. It was getting harder to breathe. All Alexia could think about was that vanilla was about to become her favourite scent.

“You’re very interesting.”

Alexia raised her eyebrows at that. “I am?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I saw you at training yesterday, you know. We had a briefing to prepare for today. You were… I wouldn’t say scary, but I was pretty sure your teammates were about to pee their pants.”

Alexia broke into a laugh. “What?”

“You had that furrow between your brows,” you elaborated, raising your hand and hesitantly running a finger across Alexia’s forehead. “And I could hear your stern captain voice,” you chuckled, dropping your hand. “But despite that you were still as charismatic and graceful as ever. I could see why people would be so intimidated by you.”

“And that’s interesting to you?” Alexia said, her voice barely a whisper. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest.

“Yeah,” you answered, your voice matching Alexia’s whisper. “Because while I was interviewing you earlier today and this whole night, you’ve been acting the opposite and I couldn’t figure it out.”

“The opposite?”

“You’re… awkward,” you laughed. “You take charge on the field, your chin held high, you look people straight in the eye when conversing with them. But you’re so awkward—you bump into me, you stutter, you can’t look me in the eye for more than five seconds.”

Damn it. You were smart. Well, Alexia knew you were smart, but this was… this was you being able to read Alexia’s thoughts and damn. it.

Alexia couldn’t even defend herself because it was true. All the things you observed were true and what could Alexia exactly say to that? That Alexia acted that way because she was nervous? That being around you made her nervous? Which was baffling because Alexia had done speeches in front of thousands of people without tripping over her words once, yet one night with you and Alexia‘s vocabulary went out the window.

“Uh I’m sorry if that was overstepping,” you said, finally stepping backwards. “I was just stating what I saw.”

You looked really beautiful under the moonlight. Your eyes casted downwards, your hands fidgety, as if you were doubting yourself about why you said all that. You looked nervous, perhaps about what Alexia would say next. 

But despite everything, you looked really beautiful under the moonlight and Alexia figured that there was no harm in telling you that.

“You’re right,” Alexia laughed. “You’re absolutely right.” A pause. “You’re beautiful.”

You whipped your head up and looked at Alexia with wide eyes. “What?”

“I think you look really beautiful right now,” Alexia exhaled and stepped forward. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “That is why I’m so awkward around you. I just don’t know how to act. I get nervous around pretty girls.”

You laughed and Alexia took it as an opportunity to pull you in for a kiss, swallowing all your laughter.

Alexia became addicted to the scent of vanilla.

—

Turns out Alexia did suck at romance. She missed dates, forgot to call you back and was a bad texter. The first week Alexia didn’t think her thing with you was going to last. She really was terrible.

But weeks turned into months and despite the missed dinners, you stayed patient. You were there in her kitchen with takeout at 10 p.m., waiting for Alexia’s meeting to end. You were there at 7 in the morning before Alexia left for training, a bag of pastries in hand. Alexia would happily munch on her guilty pleasures on the way to training, quickly getting rid of any traces of crime from her nutritionists.

You didn’t get tired of her even though Alexia stupidly didn’t move an inch the first time you initiated a kiss. You only laughed when you first stayed the night at Alexia’s place and Alexia offered her bed while she slept in one of her spare bedrooms. You didn’t mind that you sent paragraphs of text only for Alexia to reply with one or two words—you didn’t get mad, instead you would call Alexia to get her reply because you knew Alexia preferred talking instead of texting.

And Alexia was never the one to show affection. Pats on the back between teammates were appropriate. Hugs were awkward. She kissed each of her exes once or twice. 

You were different and you were persistent. You liked hugs. You hugged Alexia any chance you could get. You preferred to cuddle during movie nights and you liked to hug Alexia from behind when she was cooking dinner. The fact that Alexia tensed whenever you hugged her just made you hug her even tighter.

Strangely, Alexia didn’t find it uncomfortable. If she did, she would've said something. But Alexia actually liked your hugs. 

(“Are all hugs like this?”

“What do you mean ‘are all hugs like this’?

“I don’t know, Alba. Like- you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” 

“God, you’re nauseating.”

“I’m asking a genuine question!”

“You are in love that's what it is.”)

Five months into your relationship, Alexia started to be the one initiating the hugs. She was more affectionate; intertwining your hand with hers when you walk side-by-side and kissing you goodbye in front of your friends, not caring about the whistles thrown at you.

Alexia still missed dates and phone calls, but strangely enough you still didn’t seem to mind. Alexia was left dumbfounded because how were you perfectly fine with all of this? There was a reason why Alexia’s past relationships never lasted.

“I know you’re busy, baby. And I know you’re trying your best too.” you once said. Alexia almost shed a tear because how were you so. damn. perfect?

After eight months of being together, Alexia was juggling her relationship and football much better. She canceled an important meeting for the first time ever because she promised that she would pick you and your parents up from the airport.

Alba called her crazy, and her past self definitely would agree with Alba. Alexia didn’t care though. The smile on your face when Alexia showed up with flowers in hand was priceless.

“What are you daydreaming about?”

“Hm?” Alexia looked to the side and found you staring at her. “Nothing.”

You laughed, setting your book aside and rested your head on Alexia’s chest. Alexia wrapped her arms around your smaller frame and kissed the top of your head.

“If you say so,” you lazily drew circles on Alexia’s stomach. “What should we get for dinner?”

“What do you want?”

“You always ask me what I want,” you giggled. “Can you choose for tonight?”

Alexia hummed in thought and after a moment she added, “Pizza it is.”

You immediately sat upright, a huge grin on your face. “You really are a mind reader, you know?”

Alexia shrugged, a smile at the corner of her lips. “I told you.”

You shook your head fondly, laughing as you laid back down to your previous position.

“I love you, Ale.”

I love you. Right. Alexia should probably say it back at some point.

But should she even say it back? Wasn’t that too soon? Alexia didn’t know when the appropriate time of reciprocating your girlfriend’s confession of love would be.

When she asked Alba about it, Alba questioned her back asking if the reason she hadn’t said it back was because she didn’t feel the same way you did—which was stupid. Alexia made sure to throw her popcorn across the couch, all the way to Alba’s face, because what kind of stupid question was that?

The first time you said those three words to Alexia, Alexia accidentally sliced her finger instead of the tomato on her chopping board. It was three months after you became official and Alexia wasn’t expecting it. Not that soon, at least. But you did and Alexia was so caught off guard that you two had to halt your cooking session and order sushi for dinner instead. Alexia didn’t bring up the topic again all night and you didn’t either.

Just because Alexia didn’t say it back didn’t mean she didn’t love you. 

Or… maybe Alba was right. Did she love you? 

You, who were the most understanding and loving person Alexia had ever met. You, who made her laugh in the mornings and made her laugh before she went to sleep. You, who were never mad at Alexia when she forgot to call despite promising that she would.

“Being in love with someone and just enjoying their company are completely different things, you know that right?”

“What?” Alexia looked at her sister in disbelief. “Of course I do.”

“Cool. So which one is it with you?”

“Which one?”

Alba rolled her eyes. “Are you in love with her or do you just like having her around?”

In Alexia’s defense, she didn’t have much experience of being in love. How was she supposed to know whatever that feeling was like? The only relationship she had was with Jenni and that didn't work out because they were both too busy to have a relationship. Was she ever in love with Jenni? Maybe not. A crush, sure. Jenni was an attractive woman.

Was it the same with you? Alexia liked you a lot, that was for sure. Was it so much to the point that it was love?

Alexia figured if this was Jenni, she wouldn’t have to think about this so much. Jenni didn’t care about love and all the cliché things. Alexia didn’t either. 

And Alexia wouldn’t have cared so much if it weren’t for the fact that you told Alexia you loved her every chance you got. (Alexia felt like the world’s biggest asshole every time you got silence instead of her saying it back).

When it rained and Alexia always held the umbrella for the two of you, making sure not a single droplet of rain fell on top of your head but ended up soaking wet herself, you would laugh and “I love you, Alexia Putellas.” 

When you had to move out of your apartment and Alexia told you that you could stay with her until you found a place because she did have some spare rooms (even though you ended up sleeping in Alexia’s bed every night), “Really? Alexia Putellas, my saviour, thank you, I love you,” as you peppered her face with kisses.

When Alexia found out that Maria, your best friend, was also your first love, you reassured her that all your feelings for Maria were now strictly platonic. “She was my first love, but that was years ago. I love you. You’re my present and my future, Alexia Putellas.”

When you came home with Alexia for Christmas and some of her family members kept on sending wary glances towards you, you held Alexia’s hand on top of the dinner table and proclaimed your love for her for everyone to hear, your chin up and your tone proud. “I love Alexia. I’ll take care of her the best way I can.”

When Alexia would pick you up from classes, leaning against her grey Cupra, you would sprint towards her, a big smile on your face and a “You didn’t have to pick me up, I know you’re a busy woman. Love you.”

Every single time Alexia would return a smile or a kiss, never saying it back when she knew you were expecting it every single time. Alexia realized romance wasn’t as easy as she thought and this whole thing with you was bound to blow up if she didn’t get her shit together.

—

Turns out, it did blow up sooner than Alexia expected. She wished this point never came—she knew it would, she had been dreading it ever since—but Alexia cursed the stars for actually making it happen. She just wanted to at least hold you for another night.

You two were getting ready for bed, Alexia changing into her pyjamas while you were already tucked in bed and you two were fine. 

Alexia was talking about her day, how her mom scolded her because she was five minutes late to breakfast (which was insane because it was only five minutes), about the meeting she had for a possible new brand deal, and how she missed you the entire day. And maybe Alexia should’ve noticed how quiet you were or how your body tensed the moment Alexia slid her arms under the cover and wrapped them around your waist.

When Alexia thought you had fallen asleep, you spoke, just barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

It was silent—so silent that Alexia could hear a hair pin drop. She didn’t know why this night felt different. Alexia didn’t know why there was an edge to your voice and why there was something else she couldn’t quite place.

You turned around to face your girlfriend. Alexia could make out the faint outlines of your face in the dark—she had memorized every single inch of you.

“I love you, Alexia,” you stated once more. This time Alexia could clearly hear the challenge in your tone.

Alexia stared back at you, a sinking feeling started to settle in the pit of her stomach.

Seconds passed by, Alexia saw the mixture of emotions all over your face. You were hurt, Alexia could tell. You looked angry too, this Alexia wasn’t expecting. 

“Do you love me?”

Alexia was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. “What?”

“Do. you. love. me?” your tone turned impatient.

Alexia was wide-eyed. This wasn’t where she was expecting this night to go. “y/n—”

You got up from the bed and Alexia followed suit. You two were standing in front of each other on the foot of the bed, you with your arms across your chest and a scowl on your face. 

“Hey, what’s going on?

“‘What’s going on’?” you scoffed. “Do you love me or not? I asked you a simple question, Alexia.”

“I—” Alexia‘s voice got stuck in her throat. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t like that she was being put on the spot like this either.

You stayed silent, an expectant look on your face. When Alexia didn’t say anything else, you let out a big sigh.

“y/n…” Alexia croaked out. She was afraid where this conversation would go.

You groaned, taking a fistful of your hair before exploding at Alexia. “It’s a simple fucking question, Alexia!”

Alexia was taken aback by your outburst. “I—”

You stepped forward, a fiery look in your eyes. “I. Love. You.” you punctured each word with a jab to Alexia’s chest. 

Alexia stared into your eyes, seeing the mixture of rage, sadness and disappointment swimming around in them. Alexia knew she should say something—she should say the one thing she knew you wanted to hear. But why was it so hard for her to utter those words? Was it because she didn’t feel it? Or was it because she was scared? Alexia didn’t know, she needed to think, but you weren't letting her.

“You don’t love me, do you?” your tone was full of defeat. Alexia knew that it was now or never. She was going to lose you—really lose you—if she didn’t say something. “All this time you never said it. I tried to make sense of it, I tried to make sense of you. You got me flowers every week—sometimes even twice a week. You listen when I ramble about useless things, you accompany me to my lame university events, let people talk to you about politics and you never talk back to them even though I know you have opposite views on things. You just want my friends to like you. You remember all the dumb little things, remember when we first met and what I was wearing at that time. You tell me I look good even though I stayed up all night doing my assignments, you tell me I’m beautiful at five in the morning, at midnight, in the middle of the day. You look at me like you’re in love with me. Like you love me.” 

You paused and took a deep breath. You gave a bitter laugh before looking straight into Alexia’s eyes. “You do all these things but you never told me that you love me. Not even once, Ale. And once upon a time, I believed you loved me. But I just—I don’t know anymore.”

Alexia stayed silent. 

“You’re not even gonna say anything?”

Alexia stayed silent because she didn’t know how to say anything without hurting you even more.

“So it’s true, then?” your tone was full of defeat, your eyes shining with unshed tears. Alexia hated herself for being the cause of it.

“y/n,” Alexia whispered, her hands reaching out to touch you but you moved away. “I—”

“No,” you ran a hand through your hair and gave a humourless laugh. “Just, save it, Alexia. I think I heard you loud and clear.”

When you slammed the door shut, Alexia felt the sobs at the back of her throat but she swallowed them. To cry meant she regretted everything that led you to walk out. 

Alexia did this to herself. She was the reason you left, Alexia didn’t deserve to cry. So Alexia stared out her window all night, wondering whether the reason her heart hurt so much was because the feeling she had for you was love all along and she was just too dumb to realize.

—

When Alexia didn’t get a single ‘I love you, beautiful’ in the middle of a meeting and when no one was there to kiss her goodnight and whispers of ‘I love you’, Alexia wondered how dumb she was to let everything slip from her fingers.

—

Maria came by her house a few days after you left, saying that you had asked her to pack your stuff up. Alexia couldn’t do anything else but let her in and watched as your things that were scattered around her house were shoved into boxes.

Alexia didn't say anything, she couldn’t ask Maria where you were staying now or if you were okay. Alexia figured she didn't deserve an answer. 

“Is this y/n’s?” Maria was holding a stuffed teddy bear, one of its eyes missing and an embroidery of your initials seen on its left chest.

“No,” Alexia lied, taking the teddy and sending your best friend a small smile hoping that she was convincing enough. “It's mine. I know I’m too old to own one of these… it has… sentimental values.”

Maria nodded and Alexia had a feeling that Maria knew she was lying, that she knew exactly that it was your favourite teddy bear and that Alexia lied because she wanted to keep a part of you to herself. 

“Okay then, I’ll get going,” Maria lifted the last of the boxes and gave Alexia an awkward smile. 

Alexia nodded and gestured towards the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

Once the back of Maria’s car was filled with your things, it dawned on Alexia that you were really gone.

You weren't talking to her anymore and there weren't any of your things left in Alexia’s house. There was no more reason for you to come back and Alexia had to force a smile on her face, not wanting to cry, especially not in front of Maria.

“Actually, uhm,” Maria cleared her throat. “y/n has something for you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Maria gave an awkward laugh before reaching into her car and pulling out an envelope. “She told me to give you this.”

Alexia took the envelope with shaky hands, once again forcing a smile onto her face. “Thanks.”

Maria was looking at her with so much pity in her eyes and a part of Alexia was angry at her, because just like Maria, she pitied herself too. How could she ruin such a good relationship? She felt pathetic and she understood why Maria was looking at her that way.

“Alexia, look,” Maria stepped forward and placed a hand on the captain’s arm. “I honestly think you two will get through this.”

Alexia gave a bitter laugh at that. Was Maria mocking her now? “She packed all of her things. Well, you did, but it doesn’t matter. What part of all of this still makes you think that she’ll come back? Because I don’t think she will. I screwed up. She is not coming back. It’s fine, I’ll live.” Alexia hated how despite trying to act unaffected, anyone could hear the shakiness in her voice.

Maria squeezed her arm lightly. “She loves you. And right now she doesn’t think that you love her back, which I know isn’t the case.”

“How? You don’t know what I’m feeling,” Alexia felt her defensiveness kick in. “What if she’s right and I don’t love her, not even a little bit?”

Maria shook her head and gave a soft smile. “You seem to forget that I’ve been in your place before. I know what it looks like to love y/n—to be in love with her. You can’t lie to me.”

Alexia crossed her arms. She didn’t know why she was getting annoyed at where the conversation was going. “Then why don’t you go be with her?”

Maria laughed at that. “Because she loves you, not me, silly. Plus, I’m in love with your sister.”

Alexia didn’t say anything in reply and Maria took that as a cue to leave. Before getting in her car, she looked at Alexia one last time. “Contrary to what you think, you haven’t really lost her—not for good anyway.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” Alexia replied, her voice lacking any enthusiasm.

“I know that if you show up in front of her right now and tell her how you really feel, she’ll take you back in a heartbeat. She loves you.”

“Then why did she ask you to pack her things?” Alexia challenged back. “If she still loves me like you claimed, wouldn’t she be fine with seeing my face and not having to avoid me? And she wouldn’t just- just leave.”

“Ale, you two broke up over something so stupid. I can’t for the love of me figure out why- how something so simple can—” Maria palmed her forehead, letting out a sigh. “Just tell her you love her. What’s so hard about that?”

“Because I don’t know if I do!” Alexia shouted frustratedly. “Okay?”

Maria softened at that and gave Alexia a reassuring smile. “I have a feeling that you already know the answer,” she shrugged. “Think it through. Don’t take too long.” 

And with that Maria left, leaving Alexia standing with your envelope in her hands. She took a deep breath and opened it. Alexia expected a long letter—maybe of you ranting about how much you hated her for breaking your heart, or pages filled with curses and how you never wanted to see her again. But all she got was a small piece of paper with one sentence and a bracelet that Alexia gave you on your one month anniversary.

it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way I do, don't beat yourself up

-y/n

—

When days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and Alexia still hadn’t heard from you, Alexia realized she finally lost you for good. Alexia realized that maybe she should’ve taken Maria’s advice, but she had put it off so much that now it had been months and who was to say that you hadn’t already found someone new? Someone who actually loved you.

The thought caused Alexia to finally bawl her eyes out, exactly three months after you left. Alexia let herself feel all the pain and hurt, savoring every little twinge in her heart because she deserved it all. She hurt you, she didn’t deserve anything good anymore.

Alba pulled her out of bed, telling her to get her shit together and usually Alexia was never the one to dwell on things—once you fall, you get back up. 

But this time it was different. Alexia felt that this was it. How could she recover from all this hurt when all she wanted was your smile back? Alexia thought that if she was given a choice, she would rather lose the Ballon d’Or than to lose you—that was how important you were to her. Alexia knew she was dumb to not realize it sooner.

Despite Alexia’s complete despair about the whole thing, Alba was adamant that Alexia could do something about it. Alba was the one who told her to woman up and chase after her girl and “Seriously, hermana? I know I said you’re terrible at romance but don’t let that define you?! Do something!”

One night, Alexia discovered a pub not far from her place. No one was there except for her and one bartender. It was nice, Alexia could drink as much as she wanted without any judgment from anyone, and most importantly, she could think.

Alexia had a list and it went something like this:

Do I love y/n? 

Can I get y/n back

Do I even deserve y/n back

Am I in love with y/n

Does y/n still love me

How can y/n be so perfect

Do. I. Love. Her

Alexia was brooding and drowning in her sorrows, everything seemed so wrong. It all seemed so difficult and it took hours of being alone, surrounded by alcohol, for Alexia to finally realize that it was actually simple.

Well, the drink definitely helped, but a song was playing on the speakers and Alexia would think that it was odd for a Taylor Swift song to be playing there if it weren’t for the fact that she was the only customer that night and the bartender probably just didn’t care about his song choices.

“Let me get this straight,” Alba said slowly, sipping on her coffee. It was the morning after and a Saturday, Alba was always at Alexia’s at 7 a.m.  “You had an epiphany… because of a song you heard?”

“Yes,” Alexia nodded. “It’s actually very simple.”

“Very simple…?”

“This whole thing. I’m in love with y/n.” Alba choked on her coffee and Alexia patted her back. “A shocker,” Alexia grimaced at Alba’s coughs. “I know.”

“What kind of song led you to this conclusion?” 

“Taylor Swift.”

“No fucking way.”

“What?” Alexia shrugged. “Kissing on sidewalks, light-hearted jokes, coffees at midnight… they’re all simple things but it’s who you’re with that makes it all so special. And I had all the things that the song mentioned with y/n, and they meant a lot to me—even though these things seem trivial, I cherish them a lot because I felt happy and- and in love. I get it now.”

Alba was stunned, Alexia could see with the way her eyes were widened and mouth agape.

“So this is definitely months overdue. Maybe I should’ve looked for y/n right after Maria took her things away, but it is what it is. I want to make things right. Help me, please.”

“Finally,” Alba sighed, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “I know where she lives now. Will you promise me not to break her heart anymore, because she's my girlfriend’s best friend and I really can’t have you breaking her heart again.”

Alexia grinned as Alba told her your address.

—

To get you back, Alexia had a plan (courtesy of Miss Taylor Swift):

Stand there like a ghost shaking from the rain

Say “It’s been a long three months and I was too afraid to tell you what I want”

Say “I want you for worse or for better. I would wait forever and ever. Broke your heart, I'll put it back together”

Remind her how it used to be

—

“Hi.”

Your eyes immediately widened once you saw Alexia. 

You stared at the girl in front of you for a good minute. Alexia had to hug herself tighter, her teeth chattering from the cold. “Are you going to let me in? Besides it being so cold, I don’t want your neighbour to see me in these.” Alexia gestured towards the baby pink sweatshirt with tiny puppies she was wearing. 

“You’re—”

“Insane?” Alexia grinned. Exactly like what the Taylor Swift song said. This was going as planned.

“No- well that too,” you said, looking at Alexia in disbelief. “What I meant to say is that you’re drenched.”

“Yes,” Alexia agreed. “It is raining.”

“Exactly! Why are you out in the rain?”

“Because- because I’m supposed to stand here like a ghost, shaking from the rain.” Alexia had a smile on her lips, hoping that you would smile back at her because that would mean that you didn’t hate her.

So when you laughed in disbelief and shook your head, ushering her inside, Alexia breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Do you want some tea?” you offered.

“No, thank you.”

“Right, my bad,” you opened your fridge, taking something out. “What I meant to offer is milk,” you placed the tiny sized milk carton on the kitchen counter and sat across Alexia. “I still can’t believe you drink this.“

“You don’t drink milk,” Alexia stated.

You shrugged, your cheeks showing a hint of pink. “This has been a permanent thing on my grocery list. It’s second nature. I guess.”

Alexia stayed silent. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but she wasn’t expecting this. Maybe she was expecting you to hate her. For you to slam the door in her face and never talk to her again. 

With how your last interaction turned out, Alexia was expecting you to be more angry, or to be anything other than to welcome Alexia into your new apartment and provide her with her favourite drink that you still bought even though you two broke up months ago.

It wasn’t making any sense to her. 

“How are you so civil towards me?” Alexia blurted out.

“I’m sorry?”

“You didn’t slam the door in my face.”

You looked confused. “Was I supposed to do that?”

“No!” Alexia quickly said. “I mean- it’s nice that you didn’t slam the door in my face. I think I would’ve, if I were you.”

“Oh. Well. I don’t think I’m the type to slam the door in my ex’s face.”

Alexia laughed softly. “Thanks.”

“Welcome,” you grinned. A warm feeling settled in Alexia’s chest because she really missed that smile.

The silence that followed was nice. Alexia’s eyes darted around your apartment as she sipped on her strawberry milk. You poured yourself a cup of tea and it was still funny how your choice of drink was more mature than Alexia’s despite being five years younger than her. 

“So what brings you here?” you broke the silence.

“Oh,” Alexia rubbed the back of her neck. “Why I came here…” Alexia trailed off.

“Why you came here…” you copied.

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. She had a whole speech planned out, but now you were staring at her and Alexia was surprised that your eyes that used to look at Alexia with so much love were still looking at her the exact same way. 

That, and combined with the fact that Alexia couldn’t spot a single trace of anger in your face despite what Alexia did, made her burst into tears.

Here was the thing: Alexia disliked crying. That was obvious with the way Alexia cried for you months after you left and not the days that followed. Alexia was convinced that crying was a sign of weakness, so whenever she felt hot tears at the back of her eyes, she would always squeeze her eyes shut and push them away.

It was surprising to her that she was openly letting her tears fall in the middle of her ex’s kitchen, her chest shaking as her cries became harder.

Alexia felt you next to her and the next thing she knew, she was being pulled into your arms. She could hear the pounding of your heart and she could feel your gentle kisses on the top of her head. It felt good and it made Alexia realize that letting her emotions show wasn’t so bad.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hm?”

“I’m really sorry for being so oblivious about things,” Alexia croaked out. “Sorry for hurting you. I never meant to.”

“Alexia—”

“Let me finish,” Alexia interrupted, turning in her chair to face you. She looked up into your warm eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this. Just like what she practiced. “Uhm- it’s been a long three months. I was too afraid to tell you what I want—”

“You are not quoting Taylor Swift,” you were holding in your laughter. “Are you?”

“y/n,” Alexia groaned. “I don’t know how to do this, okay? But Taylor Swift said—”

You laughed so hard and Alexia felt the warmness back in her chest. “Sorry it’s just,” you sighed fondly. “You hate Taylor Swift, Ale.”

“I don’t! I just don’t know her well enough to like her,” Alexia corrected. “There’s a difference.” 

“Mhmm, sure.”

“I listened to a couple of her songs and they weren’t that bad. Plus, the lyrics really resonated with me.”

“So all this speech is just you telling me you like Taylor Swift now?”

Alexia rolled her eyes, ignoring your remark. “No. There was one song about being in love, and it was so-” Alexia’s voice grew smaller, her cheeks reddening before she could finish her sentence. “It describes how I feel about you. It helped me… understand my feelings.”

You had an amused look on your face, almost smug. Alexia’s face kept on flushing under your gaze. “Hm. How so?”

“Oh you know,” Alexia started fidgeting with her hands on top of the kitchen counter, looking everywhere but you. “Just… That I understand why they lost their minds and fought the wars.”

You were quiet before you burst out laughing. Alexia had an offended look on her face yet she was smiling nonetheless. “Excuse me,” Alexia chastised. “I’m trying to confess something here.”

You immediately pursed your lips but not a second later the laughters were back. “Sorry,” you said once your laughter died down. “You’ve been quoting Taylor Swift the entire night. Who are you, Alexia Putellas?”

“Can you not?” Alexia pouted. “I’m not good at this, you know that.”

Alexia could feel your hands cupping her cheeks, causing them to burn under your touch. All this felt awfully familiar and Alexia had to remind herself that you were broken up.

Taking a deep breath while still having you so near, Alexia continued. “I can’t remember what to say next. Maybe because you’re too close,” Alexia bluntly said. When a hint of hurt and confusion flashed across your face, Alexia was quick to clarify. “You’re making me nervous, y/n. It’s- I’m just so nervous. You know I always get nervous around you. Can you please stand at least five feet away?”

You shook her head in amusement and moved away, sitting on your previous spot across from Alexia. “You’re ridiculous.”

Alexia smiled sheepishly. “I think what’s ridiculous is how we’re broken up yet it doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It does, doesn’t it,” you had your eyes casted downwards, a wistful smile on your lips. ‘Remind her how it used to be’, checked.

“I’m sorry I screwed things up. You know how dumb I can be sometimes.”

“Yeah,” you scrunched up her nose. “You can be pretty dumb sometimes.”

“Hey!”

“But I still love you nonetheless.” And there it was again, the challenge in your tone. Alexia was transported back to that night three months ago when you left.

“Okay…” Alexia dragged on. “I know what you’re expecting and honestly I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it but—” Alexia took a deep breath. 

“I don’t have much experience with love and believe it or not, I’ve never been in love before. I just don’t find it important. What was important to me was football and being the best in the world, making sure my legacy lives on and how my dad would be proud of me, wherever he is. So if you’d ask me what love was a year ago, my paper would turn out blank, because I just don’t care. Alba kept on making jokes about how I’m going to end up alone and—” Alexia laughed. “Frankly, it wasn’t even a joke because I was pretty sure it would come true. But then I met you, and I was so determined to prove Alba wrong because I can care about someone other than football, but then you left, and I was back to the sinking feeling that maybe I’m just not meant for anyone. And before you say anything, y/n, I know I can overthink sometimes—or maybe a lot. But uhm- you being gone, it forced me to think and I realized that it’s actually a lot simpler than what I imagined.”

“Alexia, breathe,” you interrupted, a fond look on your face. 

Alexia took a deep breath, she didn’t realize how much she was rambling. “Sorry,” Alexia smiled sheepishly, scratching at the back of her neck nervously. “What I meant to say is—“

You caught Alexia’s hands that were waving around crazily in front of her. “I think,” you laughed, you intertwined your fingers and Alexia had to take another deep breath because she forgot what a sight it was to see your hands locked. “I really think you should breathe first.”

Alexia gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know why I’m so all over the place with you. I can win championships, but with you… I had to practice my speech in front of a stupid mirror, because I know this will happen. This, as in me throwing up words- God, I’m such a mess.”

“You practiced in front of a mirror?” 

“Huh? Yeah,” Alexia’s cheeks grew red. “Of course I did…”

You let go of Alexia’s hands and leaned back. “Well then, go on.”

“Huh?” Alexia squeaked.

“Yes, your speech. We wouldn’t want your practice to go to waste now, do we?” you were smiling and Alexia really wanted to kiss that smile away. 

“Fine. Yes. My speech.” Alexia took a deep breath. “y/n. Love is… Love is mornings with you and how your smile is the first thing I see when I wake up. Love is the sound of your laughter echoing throughout the supermarket aisle when I did a stupid dance after getting the last box of mac and cheese. Love is the nights spent together, feeling the rise and fall of your chest and how you talk in your sleep. Love is the silence on the way home, when we’re both too tired to talk, but it’s nice and I don’t mind it. Love is the way your hands instantly find mine every single time. And I know that love isn’t perfect because love is me breaking your heart and unknowingly breaking mine too. Love is scary because love is lowering your guards down and putting your heart on a damn silver platter and giving your person the chance to ruin you. But I’d let you, y/n. I’d give you a million chances to ruin me because I love you.” 

Your stare was intense and Alexia had to look away. “Te amo. I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, and I know it has been months and a lot has changed… but I’m here, if you want me. I am all yours. Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you ever since the first night, I think.”

Alexia forced herself to look back at you, her eyes locking with her favourite pair of orbs. “I want you for worse or for better, mi amor, and I would wait forever for you. I know I broke your heart, but I promise I'll put it back together.”

You had a smile on your lips and your eyebrow raised after Alexia’s last sentence and Alexia wanted to celebrate internally because maybe Taylor Swift was a genius after all.

But when you didn’t say anything else, Alexia’s smile dropped and she had to accept that you could very well reject her. It had been months. A lot could happen in three months.

Alexia could feel the start of pain in her chest but then you laughed and Alexia’s eyes widened because why would you be laughing if you were going to reject her?

“You love me,” you stated.

Alexia was still staring at you. “I do…”

You went closer to her until your hands were back cupping Alexia’s face and that was when Alexia realized that you weren't rejecting her. Holy shit.

“You dummy,” your tone was light but Alexia turned serious.

“I know,” Alexia sucked in a deep breath. “I was a terrible girlfriend, amor. I don’t know how you loved me when all I did was mess up, but I promise that I’ll be better if you—”

“We all mess up,” you interjected. “We’re not perfect, baby. And you’re gonna mess up again in the future and I will too, but we’ll get through it together.”

Alexia was silent, taking in your words. “So uhm,” Alexia had to contain herself from grinning from ear-to-ear. “You still want to be with me?”

Instead of answering, you leaned down and kissed her. Alexia let herself grin into the kiss and she swore that she would do whatever it takes to never lose you again.

—

Ale: I got the girl *insert smiling face with sunglasses emoji*

Albs: what

Albs: just use the emoji wtf weirdo

Ale: Thank you, Taylor Swift

Albs: you’re seriously so weird

Albs: how are we related?

Albs: but anyway congratulations 

Albs: you won’t end up as a cat lady after all :D

Ale: Fuck off, Alba. You know I’m allergic to cats

—

** INTERVIEW NOTES:

ALEXIA PUTELLAS

SHE SMELLS NICE Y/N !!! FOCUS

VERY SERIOUS, ONLY LAUGHED ONCE

JUST TOLD HER TO SMILE MORE BECAUSE SHE HAS A PRETTY SMILE WILL SHE KICK ME OUT

SHE LIKES TACOS ??? IS THIS EVEN IMPORTANT 

SMART, INTELLIGENT, VERY ELOQUENT WITH WORDS !!! JUST TAKE MY HEART ALREADY ALEXIA PUTELLAS 

HER EYES CRINKLE WHEN SHE LAUGHS OMFG ADORABLE

I THINK I’M IN LOVE

SHE JUST ASKED ME WHAT I’M WRITING DOWN

BYE

—

a/n: this was a looong one hope you enjoyed it, loves !!! please let me know your thoughts :) :) :)

[gracieslatte]

Everything about this video is perfect:

The 6 seconds pause before speaking (she is so millennial)

The look away and back to the camera

The noise her mouth made when she smiled

Looking down then back up

The lip leaking

The sound of the ocean

Masterpiece

[gracieslatte]

Beneath the Surface: The Third Piece

Beneath the Surface is for 18+ only.

Angst & if you squint your eyes: Smut, is included in this Third Piece.

Note: a little bit earlier as expected. Work is heavy and I feel like tomorrow I'll be sleeping a lot 😅

-

Other parts of: Beneath the Surface: The Broken Heart Pieces

-

You find yourself in the bustling back of the restaurant, surrounded by the clatter of dishes and the rush of water as you diligently tackle the never-ending pile of plates. Despite the chaos, there's a sense of familiarity and comfort in the routine of it all. This small breakfast and lunch spot has been your second home for over three years now, a cozy haven where you've honed your skills as a waitress.

But lately, things have felt different.

Ever since that fateful day when you discovered the letter on your kitchen counter, everything has been tinged with a sense of unease. The possibility of encountering her hangs over you like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over your once-beloved job.

You've made the difficult decision to retreat to the kitchen, away from the front-of-house hustle and bustle, in a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the pain of potential encounters. It's a bittersweet compromise, trading the joy of serving customers for the safety of anonymity.

As you scrub at a stubborn stain on a plate, your thoughts drift to Alexia. You wonder if she'll ever walk through those doors again, if she'll ever reach out to you. A part of you longs for the chance to talk, to seek closure, to understand why she left without a word.

But another part of you recoils at the thought, wary of reopening old wounds and risking further heartache.

You've confided in a sympathetic colleague, asking them to alert you if Alexia ever stops by. It's a small comfort, a glimmer of hope in an otherwise tumultuous sea of emotions.

Yet, deep down, you know that even if she does come, you may not have the courage to face her. The pain is still too raw, the wounds too fresh.

In the midst of your internal turmoil, a sudden clatter shatters the silence, drawing your attention to the floor where a plate lies shattered, broken into jagged pieces.

You can't help but see a reflection of your own broken heart in those shards, scattered and fragmented, waiting to be carefully pieced back together.

As you crouch down to begin the painstaking task of gathering the shattered fragments, you're acutely aware of the parallel between the broken plate and the broken pieces of your heart.

There are still too many pieces scattered on the floor.

There are still too many pieces that you need to pick back up again.

There are still too many unresolved emotions that need to be addressed before you can muster the courage to speak to her again.

To see her again.

As you gaze at the shattered pieces on the floor, a wave of emotion washes over you, threatening to overwhelm your fragile composure.

The memories and pain of your broken heart bubble to the surface once more, tugging at the frayed edges of your resolve.

But you're determined not to let them consume you again, not now.

With a deep breath, you push aside the tumultuous thoughts and focus on the task at hand. The rhythmic clinking of dishes and the steady flow of water provide a comforting backdrop, offering a brief respite from the storm raging within.

As you stand there, lost in your thoughts, you're suddenly startled by a familiar voice breaking through the silence. It's Elena, your kind colleague, gently nudging you out of your reverie.

"Come on, rush hour is over now. We have 5 minutes for a quick cigarette," Elena says, her tone laced with concern.

Though you don't smoke, you find yourself following Elena outside, grateful for the distraction from your swirling emotions. As she lights up her cigarette and takes a drag, you let the cool air wash over you, trying to calm the storm raging within.

After a while, Elena speaks up again, her voice gentle yet hesitant. "She stopped by this morning," she confesses, her words hanging heavy in the air.

Your eyes widen at the unexpected revelation, your heart skipping a beat at the mention of her.

"Lo siento, it was very busy so I couldn’t come to you right away," Elena apologizes, her hand finding its way to your shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

You offer her a small, appreciative smile, though there's a tremor of emotion in your voice as you respond. "It's okay," you murmur softly, trying to mask the turmoil brewing within.

Elena continues, her hand finding its way to your shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "She asked for you, and when I told her that you weren't here, she panicked and asked if you still work here."

"What did you say?" you ask quietly, your fingers fidgeting nervously.

"That you are working in the back now," Elena replies, her words causing a swirl of conflicting emotions to rise within you. "She looked relieved by the mention of you still working here."

Her words hit you like a wave, stirring up a maelstrom of conflicting emotions within you. Memories of Alexia flood your mind, her unwavering support and encouragement echoing in your ears.

You remember how she always admired your passion for your job, how she found joy in witnessing your dedication and determination. It was her unwavering belief in you that fueled your own confidence and drive.

"She didn’t leave right away. I think that she hoped to still get to see you, but after two hours she had to leave room for the people who had a reservation," Elena reveals softly, her words carrying a weight of understanding.

You absorb her words with a mixture of surprise and longing, the image of Alexia lingering in your mind like a ghost.

Two hours.

Two hours she spent waiting, perhaps hoping for a chance encounter, a fleeting moment of connection amidst the chaos of this busy restaurant.

You can't help but feel a pang of regret at the thought of her lingering presence, her silent plea for reconciliation hanging heavy in the air.

Despite the ache in your chest, you can't deny the flicker of hope that ignites within you at the realization that she still yearns for you, even in the wake of your fractured relationship.

But along with hope comes a wave of uncertainty, a gnawing fear that lingers at the edges of your consciousness.

Will you ever find the courage to face her again, to bridge the chasm that separates you?

As you stand there, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions swirling within, you can't help but wonder what lies ahead.

Will you continue to retreat into the safety of solitude, shielding yourself from the pain of potential encounters?

Or will you muster the strength to confront the ghosts of your past, to seek the closure and healing you so desperately crave?

You don’t have a moment to process all your thoughts and emotions as your 5-minute break comes to an end, and you re-enter the bustling restaurant. With a grateful smile, you thank Elena for her support and the valuable information she shared, before diving back into the rhythm of your work.

A little while later, you find yourself trudging back towards your apartment, the chilly winter rain adding to the somber mood that has enveloped you lately. All you long for is the comforting warmth of a long, hot shower and the soothing routine of cooking a home-cooked meal to momentarily escape the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

Finally reaching your apartment door, you step inside and flick on the lights, only to be met with silence and darkness. With a heavy sigh, you realize that your lights have once again decided to call it quits, adding another item to your ever-growing to-do list.

Undeterred by the lack of illumination, you navigate your way through the dimly lit apartment, shedding your coat and shoes with a sense of resignation. All you want now is a hot shower and a comforting meal to soothe your troubled mind.

However, fate seems to have other plans for you tonight. As you try to switch on the electric plate to cook some rice, you're met with yet another setback. No electricity. With a frustrated groan, you realize that your plans for a home-cooked meal may have to be postponed.

Deciding to prioritize a hot shower to wash away the stresses of the day, you make your way to the bathroom, shedding your clothes as you go. But to your dismay, the water remains stubbornly cold, refusing to provide the warmth and comfort you so desperately crave.

Despite the lack of electricity and hot water, you push through, forcing yourself to endure the chilly shower in an attempt to at least feel somewhat refreshed.

Afterward, feeling slightly defeated, you seek out your neighbor for any insight or assistance, but his response offers little comfort, leaving you feeling even more disheartened.

Returning to your apartment, you settle for a meager meal of crackers, the taste of frustration lingering on your tongue. But amidst the frustration and disappointment, a faint chuckle escapes your lips as you recall a similar situation from the past.

-

Alexia stormed into your apartment, looking utterly drenched from head to toe. The sight of her, soaked to the bone, took you by surprise. You had been cooking, the sound of the heavy rain outside barely registering as you assumed she was safely in her car.

"Did you walk all the way from the training ground?" you ask, bewildered by her appearance. Despite her obvious discomfort, Alexia bursts into laughter at your incredulous expression.

"Why would I walk for 30 minutes when I have a sponsored car, bebé?" she replies with a mischievous grin, shrugging off her oversized coat and kicking off her waterlogged shoes. Despite being drenched, there's an undeniable allure to her appearance, and you can't help but admire her.

As she stood before you, her clothes clinging to her frame in a way that you couldn't help but find appealing, a playful glint danced in her eyes.

"It's just that you don’t have any parking space here, so to me, it felt like a 30-minute trek if I'm being honest," she explained, her words accompanied by an exaggerated sigh as she dramatically approached you.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her theatrics, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite your attempt to maintain a stern facade. "Don't be dramatic," you chided gently, pointing an accusing finger in her direction with the cooking spatula still in hand. "Put on a raincoat next time, or maybe bring an umbrella."

"Bring an umbrella, bebé? I thought you would've come to my car with an umbrella to pick me up and keep me dry," Alexia retorted, her grin growing even wider as she teased you.

With a mock-serious expression, you countered, "Do you want to sleep on the balcony?" but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips.

"You wouldn't dare do that to me. How else would you get any sleep?" Alexia shot back, her playful banter bringing a lightness to the air between you.

"Alright, let's drop this and finally give me a hello kiss," you playfully insisted, a warm smile gracing your lips as you met Alexia's eyes.

Without hesitation, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, drawing you close as your arms found their way around her neck. With a gentle touch, your lips met in a soft, tender kiss, the world around you fading away in that moment of sweet connection.

As she pulled away, a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Hello, bebé," she greeted you cheekily.

You playfully pushed her away, a chuckle escaping your lips. "You should have a shower while I finish up dinner," you suggested, gesturing towards the bathroom.

A hint of disappointment flashed across Alexia's features as she pouted, "Are you not joining me?"

With a gentle smile, you planted a quick apology kiss on her cheek before gently pushing her towards the bathroom. "And let this dinner burn down the apartment? I don't think so, amor," you quipped, the warmth of your love filling the room as you continued to banter back and forth.

She finally gives in and heads off to have her shower while you busy yourself with finishing up dinner. The sound of running water from the shower fills the apartment, its rhythmic patter bringing a sense of calm to the air. You move about the kitchen, chopping vegetables and stirring pots, trying to focus on the task at hand despite the looming darkness.

But then, without warning, the electricity cuts out, plunging the apartment into darkness. All of your lights flicker off, leaving you standing in the dim glow of the candles you had just lit. You let out a frustrated sigh, hoping it's just a temporary glitch that will be resolved soon.

Quickly, you make your way around the apartment, lighting up candles in every room. Their soft, flickering light casts dancing shadows on the walls, creating a cozy ambiance that contrasts sharply with the earlier chaos.

As you finish lighting the last candle, you're startled by a sudden squeak and a squeal coming from the bathroom. Your heart skips a beat as you hurry towards the source of the noise, your mind racing with worry.

"¿Bebita, estás bien?" you inquire as you step into the bathroom with a rather big flashlight, which you put on the bathroom sink, concern etched across your features. "You're not playing a prank on me, are you?" you add, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Your girlfriend turns to look at you, her expression more annoyed than amused, in the midst of washing her hair.

Despite her irritated figure, you can't help but be distracted by the sight of her naked body, water droplets cascading down her gorgeous form.

Your eyes linger on her breasts, noticing the way her nipples stand erect against the chill of the water. You're tempted to reach out and play with them, but before you can, she grabs both of your wrists.

"No, bebita, my face is up here," she says, pulling your hands towards her cheeks and planting a playful smack on them. Despite her irritation, there's a hint of amusement in her eyes at your flustered reaction.

"Did you turn off the boiler to make my shower ice-cold? And where is the light?" she asks, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion.

"No, amor, I would never," you protest, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I know how much you love your hot showers."

"Then why is the water still freezing?" she questions, her grip on your wrist tightening slightly as she pointed with her head towards the tap.

"I think there might be an electricity and hot water failure in my apartment," you admit apologetically, your cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment.

"Well, that's just perfect," she grumbles, pouting slightly before her expression brightens with mischief.

"Looks like we'll have to find another way to warm up."

You watch in surprise as she tugs you into the cold shower with her, your clothes clinging to your skin as icy water cascades over you both.

"Alexia!" you exclaim, a mixture of shock and laughter in your voice as you brace yourself against the ice-cold water.

-

As the days passed, the recurring electricity and hot water failures in your apartment weighed heavily on your mind. Each morning, you woke up feeling drained and disheartened, the constant discomfort of cold showers and cold meals taking its toll on your well-being. Despite your best efforts to adapt to the situation, you couldn't shake the lingering sense of frustration and longing for something better.

Night after night, you tossed and turned in bed, unable to find solace in sleep. You were feeling cold and the memories of your breakup with her still haunted your thoughts, replaying over and over like a broken record. With your friends away on holiday, you found yourself feeling more isolated than ever, longing for the comfort and support they usually provided.

In the midst of your turmoil, you couldn't help but think of Alexia's mother, Eli. She had always been a source of warmth and understanding, besides Alexia, her keen intuition often sensing when something was amiss. You remembered the countless times she had offered you a sympathetic ear and a comforting embrace, her unwavering support helping you navigate the challenges life threw your way.

This is why you found yourself trudging down the familiar path towards Eli's house, a small duffle bag slung over your shoulder. It was already 10 pm, and exhaustion weighed heavy on your shoulders, your weary steps echoing in the quiet night. You hoped fervently that Eli wasn't hosting one of her infamous family dinners tonight, where Alexia and Alba would undoubtedly be in attendance.

You were still in the midst of your self-imposed phase of avoiding Alexia, determined to keep your distance for a little while longer. The thought of facing her, of confronting the tangled web of emotions that still lingered between you, filled you with a sense of apprehension and unease.

As you finally reached Eli's doorstep, you paused for a moment to gather your thoughts, taking a deep breath in and then exhaling slowly. With a flicker of nervous anticipation, you reached out and rang the doorbell, the sound echoing through the quiet night air.

You hear the soft patter of footsteps approaching, and moments later, the front door swings open, revealing Eli standing there in her comfortable sweats. A bright smile lights up her face as she takes in your presence.

"Oh, hi, dear! I've missed you! Come in!" Her initial excitement quickly gives way to concern as she notices your tired demeanor. "Did you walk all the way? You could've called me," she frets, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive.

Her genuine concern washes over you like a soothing balm, easing the tension that had been building within you. With a grateful nod, you step into the warmth of her familiar home, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you. "Do you want some tea?" she offers, her voice filled with warmth and kindness.

You return her warm smile with one of your own, appreciating her thoughtfulness. "Yes, please," you reply softly, the weariness evident in your voice.

As you peel off your coat and shoes, you're grateful for Eli's unspoken understanding, knowing that she'll be there to lend a listening ear when you're ready to talk. For now, the simple act of being in her presence brings you a sense of solace and reassurance.

"Lo siento for coming here so late and unannounced," you confess softly, your voice tinged with a hint of embarrassment. You sink into the plush cushions of the couch, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you. "My apartment has been experiencing this electricity and hot water failure for a couple of days now, and I've reached my breaking point. I didn't know where else to go."

Eli's gentle smile reassures you as she enters the room, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of tea. "It's really no problem, dear. I'm glad you came to me," she says warmly, setting the tray down on the coffee table before taking a seat beside you.

"I know Alexia is away at that event, so it's good that you came here. You can sleep in the spare room and have a nice shower if you want."

Her words offer a lifeline of comfort in the midst of your turmoil, but beneath the surface, questions gnaw at your mind. You force yourself to push them aside, not wanting to burden Eli with your inner struggles. Instead, you focus on the warmth of her presence and the soothing aroma of the tea.

As you glance around the room, your gaze lands on the framed photos of you and Alexia displayed prominently on the walls. Despite the bittersweet memories they evoke, you can't help but feel a pang of confusion at the sight. Eli has always supported your relationship with Alexia, but seeing the photos still hanging up feels like a contradiction in the wake of your breakup.

Eli noticed your gaze drifting towards the framed photos adorning the walls of her cozy living room. "Oh, I need new ones, those are so old," she remarked casually, her tone tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

Her words caught you off guard, stirring a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within you. It was a simple comment, but it left you feeling unsettled and confused.

Did Alexia not talk to her mother about the breakup?

Why were the photos still displayed so prominently, as if frozen in time?

The pain of the breakup resurfaced with renewed intensity, threatening to overwhelm you. You blinked back tears, struggling to maintain your composure in the face of Eli's well-meaning words.

Despite the flood of emotions threatening to consume you, you forced a tight smile and nodded in response. "Yeah, maybe it's time for some new memories," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Eli's gentle gaze softened, a flicker of concern crossing her features as she reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay, dear?" she asked softly, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You nodded again, though the gesture felt hollow, your heart heavy with the weight of unresolved emotions. "I'll be fine," you assured her, your voice trembling slightly.

"It must've been tough," Eli continued, her tone gentle yet resolute. "Alexia told me the two of you had a bit of a break. But not in a negative way, in a positive way. Sometimes we all need a small little break, right? To find each other again."

Her words echoed in your mind, stirring up a whirlwind of doubt and uncertainty.

Had Alexia truly confided in her mother about the break, painting it in such a positive light?

Or was this just another layer of deception, another mask hiding the truth?

The question hung heavy in the air as you mustered the courage to voice your own concerns.

"Do you think she will talk to me any time soon?" you asked, the words tumbling out with a boldness that surprised even you.

Eli's response was measured, her expression thoughtful as she considered your question. "Qué quieres decir?" she replied, her voice tinged with confusion.

"Alexia told me that the two of you are doing more than fine and that therapy helped a while ago. You both had just been a bit busy, which is why I didn't get to see the two of you much."

The revelation hit you like a blow to the chest, leaving you reeling with a mixture of anger, betrayal, and a glimmer of hope.

How could Alexia lie to her own mother about what had transpired between you?

Did she truly believe that everything would magically fall back into place, that lying about therapy would somehow mend the chasm that had formed between you?

Your eyes welled up with tears, a tumultuous mix of emotions threatening to spill over. In that moment, you couldn't distinguish between the tangled mess of feelings swirling within you—sadness, anger, confusion, hope—all blending together into a single overwhelming wave of emotion.

Eli, ever perceptive, noticed your distress, her expression softening with empathy and concern. "Lo siento, no quise ponerte triste," she said gently, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

Without hesitation, she pulled you into her comforting embrace, enveloping you in warmth and safety. In that moment, all the pent-up emotions that had been swirling inside you came pouring out, released in a torrent of tears and sobs.

As you calm down from the overwhelming flood of emotions, your head still resting on the comforting crook of Eli’s neck, you muster up the energy to speak. You feel a deep-seated need to unburden yourself, to share the weight of your feelings with someone you trust implicitly.

The urge to confide in Eli grows stronger with each passing moment.

After all, doesn't she deserve to know the truth?

What if she holds the key to helping her own daughter navigate through the complexities of her emotions?

Perhaps Eli possesses insights and wisdom that you couldn't offer Alexia, despite your best intentions.

Regrets and what-ifs swirl in your mind, each thought a testament to the depth of your emotions and the complexity of your situation. You can't help but wonder if things might have turned out differently if you had only reached out to Eli sooner, if you had allowed her to be a part of your journey from the start.

Before you could second-guess yourself, the words spilled out in a quiet whisper and between sobs.

"She needed space.’’

''I didn't know.''

''I don't understand.''

‘’She left me.’’

‘’She left me and told me through a letter’’.

‘’She left me with a letter."

The admission hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your emotions, yet strangely liberating at the same time.

With each word spoken, it felt as though you were delicately piecing together one of the many shattered fragments of your broken heart.

Holding that small piece closely, you made a silent vow to yourself to safeguard it, ensuring it wouldn't slip from your grasp again.

It was a tender moment of reclaiming your truth, a step towards healing and self-discovery in the midst of emotional turmoil.

-

Note: as we dive deeper into the story, I'm considering switching up the perspective for the next piece. Should I continue with Reader's perspective, or would you be interested in exploring The Fourth Piece from Alexia's perspective?

Your opinion is valued and appreciated, so feel free to share your thoughts openly but remember to always express yourself kindly and respectfully.

[gracieslatte]

so high school | alexia putellas x reader

You know two things about Alexia Putellas.

Alexia Putellas is the school’s football captain and troublemaker. From showing up late to most of her classes, to getting caught smoking under the bleachers—usually when the name Alexia Putellas is mentioned, it’s not anything good.

That’s why the second thing you know about Alexia Putellas is that you have to stay far, far away from her.

You are the picture perfect high school student. Straight A’s, president of the student council, president of the debate team, all the teachers love you, and all the students envy you. That’s why you promised yourself that you’ll never associate yourself with someone like Alexia Putellas.

It worked out well for years. You’ve been in the same school ever since you were kids but you have never said as much as a ‘hello’ to the brunette.

You’re happy about that.

Staying as far away as possible from Alexia Putellas means you will never get in trouble.

So with the years of experience of avoiding Alexia Putellas, you don't know how you get to this point. Maybe the universe wants to teach you a lesson, maybe the universe just doesn't like you, or maybe you have simply run out of luck. Because one moment you're taking down notes and the next, your history teacher has paired you up with the person you swear you’ll never interact with.

When class is over and everyone rushes out, you go up to the teacher because this is unfair, Alexia Putellas isn’t even in class today. And when he answers your complaints with a shrug and a tone so final that you know he won’t change his mind, you know you’re screwed.

-

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me neither,” your best friend sighs, unwrapping her lunch. “Can’t believe Ona is sick today and I have to put up with your ass alone.”

You roll your eyes. You’re sitting at your usual table at the cafeteria, the spot where Ona usually sits empty. “You would be nicer to me if you knew what just happened to me.”

“Did you get detention?”

“As if,” you scoff. “Now that I think about it, this is worse.”

Aitana turns to look at you, eyebrow raising in question. “What could be worse than that in your standards?”

“This stupid history project.”

“You calling an assignment stupid? That’s a first.”

You let out a sigh, placing your head on the table. “It’s because I got paired up with Alexia Putellas.”

“No way.”

You don't have to look at Aitana to know that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You grunt in reply, your friends always seem to make fun of you every time you’re miserable about something.

“You know, y/n,” Aitana nudges you, causing you to lift your head. “She’s actually not that bad.”

You furrow your brows. “You’ve talked to her?”

“Obviously,” Aitana looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “She’s captain of the football team. I’m on the football team. Or did you forget?”

“Right,” you grimace as you remember that Alexia Putellas is Aitana’s captain. “Wait, but you’re actually friends with her outside of the field?” You shudder at the thought.

Aitana rolls her eyes. “You sound so dramatic right now.”

“I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that you’re friends with Alexia Putellas.”

“Stop saying her name like that,” Aitana laughs. “Sure, she brings trouble wherever she goes, but she’s not as bad as people made her out to be. And she’s a fantastic footballer.”

“She’s bad news,” you cross your arms. “Do you remember that time when she showed up to school one morning with her face so bruised up, all we could see were bandages?”

“Yeah,” Aitana says casually, taking a bite out of her lunch. “She got into a fight with someone from the men’s team.”

“Exactly!” you slap Aitana’s arm repeatedly. “She started a fight with the captain of the football team. She’s insane.”

“Men’s football team,” Aitana corrects your statement. “And was it the captain? I swore I remember it being that good-for-nothing defender. Anyway, I’m sure she had her reasons.”

You shrug. “She’s still bad news.”

“And she’s also your history project partner,” Aitana grins at you. “I have her number if you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” you sigh, once again placing your head on the table. “I’ll go look for her after school.”

“Cheer up, grumpy. I have a feeling you’ll like her.”

You scoff. “I think you’re way off, but sure.”

-

tana: oni, first day without you here and y/n is a grumpy mess

y/n: I’m in pain. Stfu.

oni: what’d I miss

tana: y/n’s on her way to talk to alexia

oni: ????

y/n: It’s not what you think.

y/n: I have to talk to her about our history project.

oni: ...goodluck?

y/n: Thanks, I need it.

tana: vry dramatic

-

You have never imagined yourself to be where you are right now. Everyone knows that under the bleachers is the spot where people go when they want to do things that they don’t want the teachers to see—like smoking, or maybe making out with someone. Or other things, you don't really know, because you have never been here.

And you won’t ever step foot in here if it’s not because of Alexia Putellas.

The second you step under the bleachers, the faint smell of smoke wafts up your nose and you have to blink back a couple of times because it’s not as bright as you expected. You figure it’s probably because it’s going to rain soon.

As you takes more steps forward, you realize that no one was there and that maybe you should’ve accepted Aitana’s offer of Alexia Putellas’ number.

You sigh and pull out your phone from the pocket of your jeans. You’re about to press the call button on Aitana’s contact when a voice startles you.

“Looking for me?”

You turn around and standing in front of you is the person you’ve been looking for.

(And you don't know why but the sight of Alexia Putellas in her leather jacket and messy brown hair is making your heart beat faster than it should.)

“I am.” you reply, walking towards her.

“The y/n l/n is looking for me? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

(You hate the way Alexia Putellas’ smirk doesn’t do anything to calm your racing heart.)

“You weren’t in history class today,” you cross your arms. “Why?”

“So you’re worried about me.”

“Why would I be?” you narrow your eyes at the brunette. “We’re partners for a project.”

“Cool.”

You want to scream at how frustrated you are at this whole thing. Alexia Putellas doesn’t care about her grades, she has proven that many times when teachers have always used her as an example of having multiple failing grades. You wonder if they’d expel her if she isn’t the superstar captain of the women’s football team.

“Look,” you rub your temple. “I’m not thrilled about this either—”

“Who says I’m not thrilled?”

“You’re Alexia Putellas, I highly doubt you’d be thrilled about an assignment.”

“Maybe for once I’m thrilled because I have you as a partner.”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “As I was saying, you probably don’t want to do this, right? Which is fine, because what I’ll do is that I’ll get it done and I’ll still put in your name.”

Alexia gives you a confused look. “So you’ll do all the work?”

“Exactly. We don’t have to interact at all, problem solved.”

“You don’t want to hang with me?” Alexia pouts. “I’m sad, y/n.”

And you’re starting to feel the heat rising to your cheeks—no, it's not because of the pout on Alexia Putellas’ face showing just how plump her lips are and it's definitely not because of the sudden thought that flashes in your mind about how those lips would feel on your own. No, you will argue that it's not because of all that. It’s because it has started raining and it’s making it even stuffier under the bleachers.

“I’m going to leave now,” you announce. “It was good to talk to you.”

When you walk past her, you don’t expect her to grab you by the wrist (and you don’t expect Alexia Putellas’ touch to be so gentle).

“Wait,” Alexia starts. “We’re partners, right? I should at least contribute to something.”

You look down at your wrist, still seeing Alexia’s hand around it. “Uhm, I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Alexia lets go of her hold (and you would be lying if you say you don't feel the slight disappointment creeping in). “It’s not because of that,” Alexia clarifies. “I just want to do it.”

You still look unconvinced and Alexia must’ve noticed too, because she rolls her eyes and murmurs, “Is my reputation really that bad that me wanting to participate in my own assignment is such a surprise?”

“Yes? It’s a two-month long project. Even I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”

Alexia ignores your answer and proceeds to pull out her phone. She unlocks it and hands it to you.

You look at her questioningly and Alexia sighs. “Put your number in.”

“My number?”

“How should we contact each other about the project?”

You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Alexia’s face. She looks determined and it’s weird to you because you figure she would just accept your offer of doing all the work for her. “You’re serious about this.”

“Just put your number and we’ll figure a schedule out.”

You’re still looking at Alexia skeptically but slowly reaches out to take the phone and put your number in nonetheless.

And when you see that her phone wallpaper is a picture of her smiling (adorably) at the camera next to her dog, you don’t think that’s how a troublemaker should look like. You wonder just how much you know about Alexia Putellas.

-

Their first meeting doesn’t go well—you expected this.

You agreed to meet at the library after school the next day and you have been sitting there, waiting for an hour until you decide to give up because stupid Alexia Putellas is nowhere to be found. You are so pissed.

You get up and slings your backpack over your shoulder. You make it to the parking lot and are about to unlock your car when you hear a voice call out to you.

“y/n!”

You don't have to turn around to know who the voice belongs to. It’s the same voice you heard yesterday under the bleachers (and the voice that somehow made it to your dream last night, but you will never admit this).

You ignore the calls and keep on walking. You’re a few steps away from your car when suddenly Alexia catches up to you and jumps in front of you, making you jump slightly and halting your steps.

“Hey.” Alexia says, trying to catch her breath.

You cross your arms, scowling at her. “What do you want?”

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Ten minutes is late, an hour just means you never wanted to come in the first place.”

Alexia winces. “I do want to come, I swear. I overslept.”

You look unamused. “It’s 3 p.m.”

“I know,” Alexia flashes a sheepish smile. “I decided to take a nap while I wait for your debate thing to end, but I overslept.”

And you would have never believed that excuse if it’s not for the groggy voice and the pillow face she’s wearing. So you just sigh and motion for her to follow you as you walk towards the bleachers because that’s the only place you could think of going since the library is closing soon.

-

“I really am sorry for making you wait.”

You’re sitting at the top of the bleachers, you at the tallest step with your laptop on your lap and Alexia looking up at you from one step below.

“It’s fine,” your replies were short. You’re still a little bit annoyed at the whole situation. If you could’ve picked a partner for history class, it would be Ona. Ona will never be late and Ona will never annoy you this much.

But the way that Alexia keeps on apologizing every few minutes and looking away with a pout on her face when you don't respond, you’re also sure that Ona will never make your heart flutter the way it does around Alexia Putellas—and you don’t want to think of what this could mean.

-

After an hour of sitting uncomfortably under the hot sun, you figure out another thing about Alexia Putellas.

Alexia Putellas is incredibly smart and you’re surprised at how eloquent she is when she lists down everything she knows about the history of Catalonia.

“You fail almost all your classes.” you speak up.

“Yes,” Alexia nods. “What does that have to do with anything I just said?”

“I just wasn’t expecting you to say all that.”

Alexia grins at her. “Do you like surprises, y/n?”

“Uhm, I guess.” you stare back at her confused.

Alexia hums. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep on surprising you.”

You don't respond because you don’t know how to. So you focus your attention back to your laptop and try your best to type something down in order to take your mind off how Alexia Putellas is doing something to you and you’re not sure if it's a good thing or not.

-

Your next meeting starts off well. Alexia is early, you walk into the library to find the brunette already there, her usual leather jacket folded on the chair next to her.

It’s a week after your first meeting and you will never admit it, but you have been looking forward to this day for the whole week.

(It’s because you just want to get this project done, you would convince yourself.)

(Not because in the classes you have with Alexia, she always sits at the back when you sit at the front, so you never really get to see her.)

(No, it’s not because of this.)

“Hi, boss,” Alexia smiles at you. “I didn’t oversleep today.”

“That’s good to hear,” you say, sitting down and opening your bag to take out your laptop.

“I know you’re proud of me.”

You roll your eyes, a small smile on your lips. “Where do you even take your naps?”

“Under the bleachers.”

“Seriously?” you raise your eyebrows. “That must be uncomfortable.”

Alexia shrugs. “There’s a bed.”

“I’m sorry—what?”

“There’s this small mattress. I don’t know who it belongs to or why it’s there, but it’s there.”

You nod, a confused expression still on your face. “I see.”

“I can take you there sometime.”

You don't know if Alexia meant it in a flirty way, but judging by the smirk on her face, she did. So you just roll your eyes and type in the password to your laptop. “You should take me out to dinner first.”

“Okay, I will.” Alexia says it so nonchalantly and you wonder if Alexia’s stomach is filling up with butterflies too.

-

It’s not until the third meeting that you start to text each other with stuff unrelated to the project.

ale: did u know that chipmunks have 4 toes on their back paws but 5 toes on their front ones

y/n: No?

ale: well now u do :-)

y/n: Did you know that you look like you’re part of the chipmunk family?

ale: ???

ale: heeey

y/n: What’s up?

ale: nothin, just thinking about u

y/n: Why

ale: just because

y/n: Are you expecting me to say that I’m thinking about you too?

ale: you are? :D

y/n: No.

ale: whatever ;(

y/n: Why was the chipmunk late for work?

ale: did I miss a conversation somewhere

y/n: Because traffic was nuts.

ale: …

ale: I love it

And it’s not until the fifth meeting that you realize another thing about Alexia Putellas, and that is: Alexia Putellas makes you smile a lot.

You wonder what people think about when the stupid smile on your face appears every time you receive a text from her. Even Ona and Aitana have been pestering you non-stop about it and you’re running out of excuses as to why with every notification you receive, your lips seem to curve upwards automatically.

ale: u look beautiful

y/n: ?

ale: just stating what I see

y/n: Smooth talker. You’re not even here.

ale: I am, on ur right

y/n: Oh wow.

y/n: Aren’t you always out smoking under the bleachers during lunch?

ale: you pay attention :D

You stop once you read Alexia’s text because you do pay attention.

Suddenly, you can’t count on your fingers anymore about how many things you know about Alexia Putellas.

Alexia has a ‘resting bitch face’, that's one of the reasons why people are scared of her. She never smiles when she walks down the hallway, her face barely shows any emotion.

Alexia likes to intimidate people, she does that when people stare at her too long and she glares at them in return. And when they scurry away, she would smile in amusement.

Alexia likes to get into trouble, it’s like she purposely wants to get into trouble with how she picks a fight with someone every week and how she always talks back to the teacher.

Alexia Putellas is exactly how people paint her out to be—a reckless troublemaker who doesn’t care about anything and is always angry at the world about something.

But at the same time, you know that's not everything about her.

You know that Alexia is ridiculously talented at football. You’ve come to their matches enough to figure out that every time she touches the ball, it’s magic. You were there in support of Aitana and Ona, obviously. Not Alexia. (But your YouTube history being full of Alexia’s games may be because you were interested in staring at her. Not that you would admit it).

You know that Alexia is warm and gentle and she has different types of smiles. Alexia has a small smile every time she locks eyes with you in the hallways. Alexia has that smile that reaches her eyes when she laughs at something you say even though you’re pretty sure it’s not even that funny. Alexia has a wistful smile every time the day ends and you leave in your car and she leaves in hers.

You know that Alexia taps her foot repeatedly when she’s focusing on doing something. You know that Alexia has the attention span of a five year old because every five minutes, she would whine about how she’s hungry or how she’s getting tired of the library.

You know that Alexia is funny and she makes you laugh so much that you have lost track on how many times the librarian has told you to keep it down.

You know that Alexia is sweet and charming and she says things that make you want to run home and hide because your cheeks would always redden up.

You know that you like seeing a smile on Alexia’s face a thousand times more than the scowl she’s known to have.

ale: hey? why are u spacing out

And even though you feel that you now know everything about Alexia, you realize that you still don't know one thing about her.

You don’t know why Alexia is so different when she’s around you.

-

You are a problem-solver. That is one of the reasons why you’re such a good student—once you encounter a problem, you immediately think of ways to figure it out and most of the time, it’ll only take you a couple of hours to do so.

And so, you are baffled at how you still can’t figure out the mystery of Alexia Putellas.

You’ve spent most of your time together wondering why Alexia seems to smile more when you’re there or why no one but you sees the sparkle in Alexia’s eyes that is brighter than any stars out there, but the answer seems to never come to you.

So when your project has finally ended and you would no longer have your weekly meetings at the library, you should’ve noticed the dejected look on Alexia’s face and that should’ve given you a clue to the answer you have been so desperately searching for.

But apparently you’re not that smart after all, because once your last meeting ends, you bid Alexia goodbye and go home to spend the rest of your day watching Netflix.

And when Alexia doesn’t text you at night like she usually would, you don't think much of it and let yourself sleep instead.

-

You don't see Alexia the following week. She’s not in the cafeteria, or in the hallways, or even in the classes you share once you look to the back of the classroom where she usually sits.

Alexia doesn’t text you either and you know you should’ve text her first, but you figure Alexia is just busy so you don’t reach out.

And when you don't see Alexia in school for another week but Aitana and Ona see her at practice, you realize that Alexia has been avoiding you.

-

You have never been good with feelings. Especially if it involves someone who you have swore you would stay far, far away from.

So you have been ignoring all these feelings inside of you, ignoring the way your heart speeds up at the mention of Alexia, ignoring how your dreams are now filled with Alexia’s sweet face.

But it’s reached a point where you can’t ignore it anymore because the ache in your heart after not having heard from Alexia in weeks was getting bigger and bigger.

It’s that yearning in your chest that causes you to walk to Alexia’s spot under the bleachers in hopes that she’s there. And when you see her leaning against a pole, one hand in the pocket of her leather jacket and the other holding a cigarette, you finally admit that you might be in love with Alexia Putellas.

“Hi.”

You could see Alexia slightly jump in surprise at your voice. She turns around and her eyes widen when they lock with yours.

“y/n.” Alexia says, her tone clearly showing that she’s not expecting to see you.

“Are you avoiding me?” you jump straight to the point.

“What? No. No?” Alexia stammers, throwing her cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. “What makes you think so?”

You simply scoff and step closer to her. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

“I know, you have straight A’s.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you glare at her. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks.”

When Alexia doesn’t reply, you add in a whisper, “I miss you.”

Alexia still isn’t replying, she just keeps on staring at you with a look that you can’t comprehend.

A second later, when Alexia reaches forward and pulls your face towards her and you can taste the smoke on Alexia’s lips, you realize that the answer you’ve been searching for seems to be simpler than you anticipated.

-

Now you don’t remember why you promised yourself to stay as far away as possible from Alexia. And you don't know how you could be happy about never having spoken to Alexia before.

Because with the way Alexia picks you up in the classes you don’t have together just to walk you to your next class and the way Alexia always waits up for your debate club to end before driving you home, you can list down a hundred more reasons why you should always stay near to Alexia.

Because Alexia feels like sunshine and Alexia makes you feel like you’re always walking on clouds.

Now when the name Alexia Putellas is mentioned, you knows it’s everything good in the world all at once.