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ceesimz · 4 days

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Booked - Mapi x Ingrid

TW: Mentions of blood, Ingrid gets injured during a game but it's not too bad. Feliç Sant Jordi🫶🏼

For the most part, María Pilar León Cebrián thought of herself as a calm and level-headed person in almost all situations. She was only human, there were indeed a few cases where that wasn't the case and even if her friends would never deem her as a calm person overall, she was sure that when the time came she was the model person in emergency situations.

What those one off cases were, you're wondering?

Ingrid. Syrstad. Engen.

All sensibility and composure flew far out the window as soon as Ingrid was involved, and that's where she found herself today.

It was an easy game, some may call it a battering, and Mapi had been subbed out just before the 70 minute mark so that she had somewhat of a rest before the weekend for a Champion's League game. Her performance was good, if not a little boring and easy since the other team had barely stepped a foot in Barça's penalty box, and she had a big, cheesy smile on her face when she saw that Ingrid was being subbed on just as she was coming off. And if Ingrid was annoyed about the two light pats on her ass from Mapi later before the Norwegian sprinted onto the pitch, she would simply say it was just for luck.

However, luck didn't seem to be on Ingrid's side for her quick involvement in the game. All of a sudden, it seemed the scoreline of the match had gotten to the opposing team's heads and before any of the Barça girls could realise, the physicality of the game increased tenfold. There was brutal tackle after tackle, shirt tugs, arm pulls, and risky one-on-ones for headers that saw Ona land horrifyingly on her neck and the player at fault to receive only a yellow for what everyone knew was a malicious and purposeful act. Ona was fine, she stood up after taking a few minutes to come back to herself, before moving to defend another corner as Alexia and a few other players were shouting at the referee who had made countless questionable decisions already.

"We're lucky nobody has been stretchered off yet." Mapi exclaimed to Frido from her seat on the bench, arms tightly crossed across her chest over her puffer coat.

"It's not a surprise though, right." Frido sighed disapprovingly, referring to the situation everyone was frustrated at in terms of the Liga F referees.

"Es tonterías." The Spaniard grumbled, slumping back in her chair as the whistle blew for the corner to be taken.

Her sulk didn't last long, it couldn't, because perhaps the most frightful occurrence of her life carried out right in front of her eyes. The ball curled right into the box where Ingrid was marking the targeted player at the front post, and the Norwegian wasn't able get a clean jump as the player to her side stomped on her foot aggressively. But before she could fall to the ground as a result of the pain of studs being dug into the space just below her ankle, there was an agonising strike to her face.

An elbow smashed against the outward corner of her eye hard, a sharp and sudden pain that immediately caused her to feel sick to the pit of her stomach, overriding any pain in her foot. She fell to her knees with a loud, excruciating scream, one hand immediately coming up to her face as the other clutches desperately at the goalpost beside her that she slumped against. When her hand came into contact with her face, she let out another scream, this one somewhat quieter, as the pain increased due to a nasty gash that stretched up into her eyebrow which stung impossibly more when she touched it. That's when she realised her hand was covered in blood and the sight of it caused her body to weaken as she paled, absolutely not a fan of blood. Her hands fell out in front of her as she kneeled over, side still pressed against the post, and she tipped her head forward to prevent anymore from dripping down her face.

The opposition's counter attack had to be stopped by Jana before the referee eventually blew their whistle. Jana had been subbed on for Mapi earlier and was now fuelled with rage, leading to her delivering an outstanding slide tackle to the player rushing towards her on the halfway line. Everyone will give her her kudos after the game for such a perfect tackle, it really didn't get much better than that, but for now the focus was, rightfully so, on Ingrid.

Alexia, Salma, and a few others had called for the game to be stopped as they rushed over to Ingrid the second she went down, absolutely enraged that a player had suffered not only a possible concussion which should have stopped the game straight away, but also had a gushing cut which was even more reason, if at all needed, for the whistle to be blown. Lucy and Irene were already arguing with the referee as words were ushered to Ingrid, but they were lost on her due to the intense ringing in her ears.

Mapi watched every second of it from the bench. When she saw the initial stamp on Ingrid, she stood from her chair and clutched at the back of the one in front of her as she voiced her outrage at such a blatant act. However, that was nothing compared to the reaction she had when she saw the hit to her girlfriend's face, followed by the stream of red. It was almost the exact same scenario she had gone through a while back, but her fear was about a million times more intense this time around since it was Ingrid. Her Ingrid.

When Mapi went through the same injury, she had been relatively calm when it had happened, and it had stayed that way as the medics attended to her before she was able to go back out onto the pitch. This time? Her emotions ripped through her and swiftly took control of her mind.

Even as Frido tried to hold her back, Mapi raced out of the seating area and onto the sidelines. An endless amount of colourful expletives left her mouth, cussing out the referee and the other team and just about anyone she could think to blame for causing such an avoidable situation. Jona and a few of the other Barcelona staff tried to call her back and stop her from acting out, but it was futile. She needed an outlet for her worries and if disguising her anxiety with anger was the first alternative her panicked mind thought of, she was fine with that. Some rational part of her mind had prevented her from rushing onto the pitch towards Ingrid, but that's about as far as she got.

The match officials came over to her and gave her multiple warnings about her actions but that didn't stop her, nothing would stop her until she knew Ingrid was alright. By now, the medics had made it to Ingrid and were cleaning up her, but Mapi had tunnel vision that she only snapped out of when the referee showed her a yellow card. Not the player that had brutally stamped on Ingrid, not the player that elbowed her, neither of them, the referee chose Mapi instead. The Spaniard could only laugh, and she went to let loose on the figure in front of her again but was stopped by Alexia, who had noticed the situation playing out after she had stepped away from Ingrid.

"Hey! Hey! Step down, stop, Mapi!" Alexia pushed her back off the pitch by her shoulders, the shorter woman not even realising she had gone onto it. "I know you are upset but you will get suspended if you carry on. Cálmate, María, ahora."

"That puta, she h-"

"Oi! I know, I saw it. Ingrid is fine though, just a bit freaked out." Alexia squeezes her shoulders before letting go and pointing over to the Norwegian, who was now sat up with her head being held still by one of the medics whilst the other gently dabs at the wound on her face. "See? She is okay. You can speak to her when she comes off, but for now calm down. This is not something to get suspended over."

"She's okay?" Mapi mumbles quietly to her friend after a moment, a concerned frown on her face as her eyes don't drift from Ingrid's spot on the pitch.

"Yes. You can find out for yourself in a minute." Alexia tells her, hands on her hips as she stands beside her. Mapi nods solemnly, all the fight gone from her, watching on silently.

Ingrid stands up and is met with an applause as she does so, one of the medics carefully lifting the blood-soaked jersey over her head before guiding her to the sidelines. With one eye, she spots an antsy looking María waiting for her and it makes her smile, feeling significantly better than she did a few minutes ago. When she arrives in front of Mapi, the Spaniard hastily unzips her coat and takes it off before draping it over Ingrid's bare shoulders.

"Thank you." Ingrid mumbles to her, grateful for the act as she was a bit cold now that she wasn't running around anymore. Mapi can't get a word out so just nods vigorously at her, something that makes her laugh a little and it's a noise that fills Mapi with relief.

The staff urge Ingrid to sit down in a chair at the back of the dugout and the Norwegian pats the chair beside her for Mapi to sit in, to which the Spaniard does immediately.

"Are you okay?" Mapi asks her breathlessly. Before Ingrid can answer, the cut is shown to her when the medic moves the gauze away from her eyebrow. "Ouch!"

"Why are you saying that?" Ingrid laughs, wincing when the gash is cleaned again with an alcohol wipe.

"Sorry, princesa, it freaked me out." Mapi answers with another grimace, though she looks at the cut quite inquisitively for someone so 'freaked' out.

"What a kind thing to say to your injured girlfriend." Keira said from one of the chairs in front of her, Ingrid giggling as Mapi looked a bit sheepish.

"Eso es un poco repugnante." Vicky comments from beside Keira.

"Oi! That's my girlfriend, nena." Mapi scolds her before turning back to Ingrid and scoffing when the dark-haired woman rolls her eyes.

"Hush, María. You don't need to play the hero." Everyone around falls suspiciously silent around her when Ingrid says that. She squints her eyes at her friends as the medics begin to bandage her up, eyes flicking between each person. "What is going on?"

"Nada." Mapi shrugged, sending what she thought was a sneaky warning glance to her but Ingrid caught it of course. The Norwegian sends a stern look of her own to her teammates, a silent plea for them to tell her whatever she wasn't clued in on.

"Mapi got booked for running her mouth off to the ref when you went down." Keira reveals, Mapi gasping harshly and slapping her shoulder.

"Oi, chivato!" She shouts, before turning back to Ingrid with a grimaced smile. "Sorry?"

"María, why?" Ingrid fixes her with another stern look, but unfortunately for Mapi, ever the childish one, she can't really take her seriously when she's got a comical amount of bandages wrapped around her head, looking like Mr Bump from the Mr Men books. "That was silly, you didn't need to do that. You could have got suspended!"

"I was scared!" Mapi argues, shoulders stuck in a shrug as she held her hands up blamelessly. "I feel better now, now that you're..."

"I'm what?" Ingrid pushes her, knowing that the words about to come out of Mapi's mouth weren't anything along the lines of 'now that you're okay' or 'now that I'm with you'.

"Now that you look really cute with that big bandage." Mapi comments with a mischievous grin, hearing some of the girls and staff around her laugh as Ingrid makes an outraged noise.

"María! I didn't tease you when you had the same bandage!" Ingrid exclaims, nudging her arm.

"I'm kidding, princesa, I'm joking!" Mapi defends herself, placing a hand on her bare knee and the other on her forearm. "Sorry elskling, I am."

Ingrid can't stay annoyed at the older woman for too long, not when she looks equally as adorable when she's begging for forgiveness, not when she's calling her pet names in Norwegian, and not when Ingrid knows she's just trying to lighten the situation and make her feel better. It's why she loves her, after all.

"You are annoying." Ingrid murmurs lovingly, shrugging the coat off and handing it back to Mapi when she gets given a fresh jersey. "Am I good to go back on?"

The medics have cleared her for now and Jona gives her the nod, so she stands but is quickly pulled back by Mapi who grabs her hand.

"Be careful, princesa." Mapi tells her in a soft, pleading voice. Ingrid nods and smiles when Mapi kisses the back of her hand before giving her a shy wave and walking to the sidelines.

Thankfully, the rest of the game goes off without a hitch, no more nasty fouls and not quite so much fury running through the other team. At the end of the game, Mapi joins her team in going through all the post-match procedures like the huddle and handshakes and fan interactions, before following Ingrid to the physio room like a lost puppy.

Before they start to take the bandage off though, Mapi grabs her phone from her coat pocket and makes sure to take plenty of photos of Ingrid with her head wrapped up, something that the Norwegian complains about before swiping the phone out of her hand and sliding it underneath her back where she lay on one of the beds. Mapi pouts dramatically before moving to stand at the top of the bed so that she's out of the way of the medical team.

They go through the process of taking off the bandage before examining it more closely now that they're not stuck in a mid-game rush, deciding that it can be solved with some stitches. Surprisingly, it's not Ingrid whose face pales at that, it's Mapi. But she just gives Ingrid a weak smile when the Norwegian looks up at her, squeezing the taller woman's shoulder comfortingly. Then, Mapi further grimaces when one of the doctors gives Ingrid a tiny injection in her eyebrow to numb the area before they start stitching. The Spaniard has her eyes screwed shut at that point, hand still placed reasurringly on her girlfriend's shoulder, until the doctor says he's done.

He gives the couple space for a while to allow the injection to work, at which point Alexia decides to walk over from where she'd been watching the whole thing, mainly her long-time friend.

"Stitches, no?" Alexia says, wandering over still in her kit except she'd swapped her boots for a pair of sliders.

"Yeah, stitches." Ingrid frowns, not quite a fan of the idea of it.

"You scared?" Alexia wonders, quickly shooting a smug, knowing grin at Mapi.

"Mhm. Mapi wouldn't stop gagging when she was getting her stitches." Ingrid and Alexia share a laugh as Mapi pulls a face at them both.

"That's because Mapi is a gallina. You should have seen her face when they injected your eyebrow, I saw the whole thing." Alexia teases as she looks back at Mapi whose face was now quite red, Ingrid giggling and also gazing up at her embarrassed girlfriend.

"No es justo, Ale." Mapi murmurs, glaring at both women.

"Cheer up, cobarde." Alexia lightly pats Mapi's cheek twice before the doctor comes back in.

"Ingrid, try to raise your eyebrow for me." All three people in the room standing over Ingrid watch amusedly as she tries so very hard to do as she was asked, but to no avail. "Perfect. Let's get started."

Alexia moves to grab a chair and sits on it backwards with her arms crossed over the top edge of it, smirking at the slight fear present in Mapi's eyes. The pair of them stay silent as they watch the doctor stitch up her eyebrow, and when he gets to the last few, Alexia grasps Mapi's hand that was gripping the edge of the bed so firmly her hands hurt.

"Come on, Mapi, you're doing so well, amiga. Nearly done, you're doing so well." Alexia reasurres her friend dramatically, Ingrid bursting out into laughter at the ridiculousness of it. Mapi grunts in frustration and slaps Alexia's hand away, lightly shoving her out of the chair and taking her seat.

The doctor quickly does a once over of his work before asking Ingrid a few questions where he decides she's all done for the night. With a quick thanks, he nods and smiles at the three, then leaves them to it.

"We will have matching scars, princesa." Mapi grins childishly at the thought, Alexia and Ingrid both rolling their eyes.

"Buena, I will leave you both. Make sure to look after her, yes Ingrid? She's a delicate little mariposa." Alexia pouts at Mapi like she's the injured one, pinching her cheek like a baby.

"Vete al diablo." Mapi slaps her thigh once more, then watches as Alexia squeezes Ingrid's hand quickly before bidding them both goodbye and leaving the room.

Mapi turns back to Ingrid who is already looking over at her, heads both at the same height now that Mapi was sat down, and Ingrid had a humoured but adorable look on her face.

"Not you too." Mapi grumbled.

"I did not know you were so squeamish, María. You can't even look at a tiny injection?" Ingrid grins at her, moving to sit up and swing her legs over the edge of the bed, her feet grazing Mapi's shins.

"I'm not so perfect after all, princesa, sorry I kept that a secret from you for so long." And just like that, her teasing nature was back.

"Ha ha, Mapi. Very funny." Ingrid rolls her eyes, now in a little bit of pain due to the dark bruising beginning to come out.

Mapi smiles a toothy grin up at her, leaning forward to rest her arms on Ingrid's thighs and rest her chin atop them. Ingrid huffs a breath of laughter and rests back on one hand, the other moving to tuck some of Mapi's hair behind her ear.

"How do you feel?" Mapi wonders, one of her fingers pushing Ingrid's shorts up ever so slightly so that she can stroke her thumb along the soft, tanned skin that's there.

"Tired. I have a bit of a headache." In Ingrid's terms, a bit of a headache meant quite an uncomfortable headache, that Mapi had learnt in the time they'd been together.

"Well, you do not have a concussion which is good. Good for me because then I don't have to tape my mouth shut like last time." They both laugh at the reminder, Mapi simply gazing up at Ingrid. "We will get you some medicine for your head and I will drive home. Are you showering before we go?"

"Mm, no. Can we have a bath at home?" Ingrid asks shyly, and Mapi swears she feels her heart double, triple in size at the sound of her voice.

"If you'd like. Anything for min kjære. Mi princesa."

Sure, maybe Mapi wasn't always a calm and collected woman, but who wouldn't panic when someone like Ingrid was in the face of danger? María Pilar León Cebrián would, that's for sure. She'd happily get booked every game she played if it was for defending Ingrid, even if it Alexia or Jona wouldn't exactly be too happy with that. Because when the sun is staring at you with such a beautiful face, it's hard not to get blinded by it.

#mapi leon #ingrid engen #mapi leon x ingrid engen #ingrid engen x mapi leon #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #mapi león #fcb femení #fcb femeni #alexia putellas

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ceesimz · 8 days

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The Mountain Is You

Part 2 of 'Our Sun Is Setting'

Barcelona. Once a place that felt like home to you, yet now as you clamber into the back of your taxi outside of the airport, it's the same but different.

Same sun, different warmth. Same air, different atmosphere. Same airport, different kind of departure.

Same person tying you down to this city, different dynamic.

If you thought a lot could change in two days, you had no idea what could happen in eighteen months. Turns out, a lot could change too, but thankfully for the sake of your sanity, the mental blows were not so big and not so frequent this time around. You doubt you would be in this situation now, back in the city you love, if it wasn't for your grandparents. They welcomed you with open arms and endless amounts of baked goods as soon as they caught wind of you coming home.

For the first month you stayed with them, most of that time was spent in the spare bedroom they made up for you, not quite holding the confidence or will power to do much else other than feel sorry for yourself. Some days you would walk their dog with them, other days you wouldn't leave the room. Some days you would do as many chores possible for them as a thank you, other days your Grandmother would sit beside you up against the headboard whilst you lay beside her as she read her book out loud, one hand gently running through your hair as she went. Some days you'd all laugh about shared memories of your Mother, other days you'd cry into each other's arms.

Something clicked inside you along the way though. One day you just woke up with a certain determination, and the look on your Grandfather's face as you wandered into the kitchen at 7am was enough to force a few giggles out of you before ushering him to join you on an early morning walk. That was when you voiced your new thoughts to him.

"I think I'm going to start applying for jobs again soon. You know, get out of your hair a little bit." You said to him, smiling when he tutted and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

"Don't be ridiculous. We're happier than we have been in a while now that you're with us, sunshine." He replied honestly, hugging you into his side.

"I know. I'm happy too, but I do want a job. What job, I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to start looking."

"You don't have to pressure yourself though, okay? If you change your mind at any point, that's perfectly fine. Just do it at your own pace. If you would like, you could print off your CV for me and Granny to hand in to places."

"That's fine, Grandad, you don't have to." You laughed lightly at his suggestion, bringing your hand up to cover his that rested on your shoulder. "Everything is online nowadays."

"Of course. That rules me and Gran out the question then, in terms of advice." He grumbled jokingly, though his classic, cheeky smile rests on his face. "Absolutely no help for you there, sweetheart."

"I didn't think there would be any anyway. I've seen Grandma use the microwave." The pair of you laugh at that, before it falls silent as you walk along the cliff-top coastline. The tone of the conversation shifts a bit when you speak again. "I think I'm also going to start seeing a therapist. You know, for everything that's happened."

"Okay, love. Whatever is best for you." And that's all the reassurance you needed.

The job hunt would forever be an aspect of life you despised. But, two months later, you had secured a job within the local area that you chose to walk to most days, a piece of advice from your new therapist that at first you hated but soon it was your favourite part of your daily routine. Apart from when it rained, obviously.

Things were going well though, surprisingly well, and it set in one evening as you sat in the back garden, watching your grandparents gardening, that the choice you made a few months prior was the right one.

You had managed to keep a certain Spaniard out of your mind for most of the time after that first month of being away from her, until one night you got a notification on your phone.

Spain win the FIFA World Cup after a 1-0 victory against England!

What was the right move now? Text her to congratulate her? Or is no contact best for the time being? Would texting her give her false hope? This was arguably the biggest achievement of her career, her whole life, but as a figure of the past, was it right to dredge everything back up again at such a joyful time?

Your hands faltered over your still cracked phone screen, unsure what to do in such an unusual situation. There was no handbook on what to do if your ex-girlfriend, who you're still in love with and who (hopefully) still loves you too, wins the biggest trophy of her career, nor could a google search be any assistance. And unfortunately, as perfect as they are, your grandparents that had been married for over fifty years now may not be any help either.

So, the only decision you could land on, no matter how much you didn't like it, was to leave it.

Until your finger slipped and liked her celebratory Instagram post later that night. You still followed each other on social media, too reluctant to get rid of that remaining bridge, but your Instagram had lain dormant ever since you had left. That meant you had some insight into Alexia's life post-breakup, guiltily indulging in a late night scroll every now and then which you found yourself in now, whilst she had no idea what you were up to or even if you were alive.

Well, at least she knew you were still here and you still cared for her. Could that be shown in one single social media interaction? You hoped so. Maybe that was a tad bit dramatic though. What else were you supposed to do?

You had the same reaction a year later as you watched Alexia captain her team to an unfortunate loss in the Olympics final. However, it was still a silver Olympic medal, and not many athletes could say they have one of those. A congratulatory text from you may have seemed like the start of a pity party though, so once again you opted out of it. Time and place and all that.

A year on and you were in a much better place, there were no two ways about it. Therapy was difficult, of course it was, but people were right when they say it's one of the best things to do for yourself. You don't think you'd ever been better. Subsequently, that led to an inevitable topic to come into discussion during one session.

"What do you think the... repercussions would be if I... went back to Barcelona?" You asked nervously, looking down at your hands as they fidgeted in your lap.

"It depends what you went to get out of it. Would you go for the city itself? Or for her?"

For some reason, in your sessions, your therapist hardly ever named Alexia. It was always 'her' or 'she', never her name. You figured it was so that you never shied away from the subject which was probably close to being the hardest to talk about, but you were too afraid to ask.

"Both." You answered initially. Your therapist stayed quiet of course, waiting for you to answer truthfully, something she again always did. "Her. Mostly."

"Do you think you're in the headspace for it? You've made so much progress since we first started, so you need to think if it'll aid the healing process or cause a regression."

"Well, she wasn't the problem in the first place. Everything she did for me was perfect, it was the relationship as a whole rather than her specifically. She was... she was perfect." You smiled sadly as you reminisced on your time with her. She really was perfect. "But I was the problem, I think. I was the one suppressing so much stuff and... when I was on my own compared to when I was with her, I was two completely different people. It was like light and day. She had a great effect on me, but I guess it's just figuring out if that was healthy or not. That difference in characters, in mindset."

"See? You've learnt so much from this already. Maybe you should just sit in front of a mirror and talk to yourself, you'd save a lot of money." Your therapist jokes, the pair of you laughing lightly. "So, let's get talking then. Let's figure this out."

And you did. You spent the rest of the session discussing whether it would be suitable for you to go back to Barcelona. The conclusion you came to was a very favourable one, one that made you nervously excited. But what would Alexia be like? Had she moved on? Would she still value you the same? Or would you be old news now? Only time could tell.

The only thing you knew was that it is so much darker after a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone, and that was the case with Alexia. Perhaps your life wouldn't have been so flipped upside down if you hadn't had met her; such a sweet and loving soul, the purest and brighest light shining onto every dark crevice you'd ever hidden. You'd had a taste of her, and you'd be damned if you didn't at least try for her again. Alexia Putellas wasn't one to lose, and you'd been fortunate to have her in the first place. If it was a one time thing, maybe you'd have to come to terms with that being the case. But for now, getting to Barcelona was just the first step.

Your grandparents definitely approved of you going back, no matter how long for, whether it be one day or one month or perhaps forever. At some point in the past year you had opened up to them about Alexia and they were heartbroken for you. Of course they would be. Your hearts were one and the same. They were the biggest advocates in getting you to go back and see Alexia, and even if Alexia didn't want to see you, you were still going to go to Barcelona. You had friends there, you'd lived a whole life there for just over a year, you'd fallen in love with it before you'd even met Alexia, so regardless of her opinion (even if it did sting like hell) you're still going.

When you booked your flight there, with no return ticket just yet, your grandparents had cheered and dragged you up from the armchair to dance with them along to the music from their old radio. It was a core memory, absolutely, and you'd be lying if you said a part of you wasn't hoping to share this memory one day with Alexia.

However, the day came where you had to do the thing you'd been most afraid of. Contacting Alexia. It was an occasion that definitely called for an emergency video call with your therapist who was very pleased to meet your grandparents for the first time, albeit over Zoom, and the three of them offered any and all advice you'd take until you had carefully curated a text message to send to her.

You:

Hey Alexia, I hope you're doing well. Feel free to ignore this, but I'm coming back to Barcelona soon and I was wondering if you wanted to catch up? If you don't want to, I completely understand. It's been a while and we've both lived our lives without each other in it, so no pressure at all. Let me know if you're open to it. Take care x

Almost immediately, the message was read by her. And just as quickly, the typing icon came up. Safe to say, your grandparents were freaking out just as much as you were.

Alexia:

Wow, it is so good to hear from you. I'm doing well and I really hope things are much better for you. I've been dreaming of hearing from you since the moment you left. I absolutely want to see you again, I don't care how long it's been, so let me know when you're coming and I'll see you as soon as I can. Espero verte pronto, cuídate x

Any longer and your jaw would have been lodged into its place hanging wide open. She wanted to see you just as much as you wanted to see her. The feeling of relief that washed over you upon reading it was gone as quick as it arrived; instead, you were now filled with nerves. No, not nerves, butterflies.

And that's where you found yourself now, your taxi driver navigating the streets of Barcelona towards your hotel in mid-October. It was reaching the evening, so your plan was to start off the trip calmly with a walk around the city to re-familiarise yourself before sunset, then just order some room service for dinner. Simple, but the right way to start what would probably be a bit of a challenging trip mentally.

Despite the low-key nature of the day, you could hardly sleep later that night. There was only one reason, it was obvious. You and Alexia had plans to meet for lunch the next day after her training session. You can't recall an event in your life you had ever felt so excited for, you felt like a kid on Christmas Eve again. A few doubts trickled into your mind every now and then, but you'd grafted for too long now for petty worries to tear down the confidence you had built.

Of course you were eager to see the woman you loved again for the first time in eighteen months, but there was a bigger part of you that was desperate for her to see the progress you'd made. You were proud, and it had taken a lot to get to this point. You wanted to share your pride with her and show her the person you always knew you could be all along. All of your efforts, your hard-work, and your sacrifices had been worth it. You were right to feel proud. And after all, sacrifices were given that name for a reason.

When you did eventually fall asleep, it was with images of Alexia circling in your mind, hoping she still had a place in her heart for you and that she'd love you again for who you are now and not who you were.

Finally, finally, the time came to see Alexia again. You weren't really sure what to expect; it was a unique situation with exceptional circumstances, and you were trying desperately not to put too much pressure on the day. Yet, you were a despairingly hopeful person and the anticipation was almost overwhelming as you were getting ready.

Contact between you both had been little but often, topics never delving too deep which you were so glad about as you wanted to talk to her properly face to face. You had to, it's the least she deserved. Over text, anything could be easily misinterpreted and you weren't about to ruin your chance with words getting lost in translation. Phone calls and FaceTimes were out of the question too, and you were grateful that your individual desperation wasn't getting in the way of going about this the correctly. By no means were you a perfectionist, but there were some things in life that were far too important to be ruined by a lack of patience and all-consuming desire.

Once again, your new and probably your healthiest habit came into play as you decided to walk under the bright October weather to the place Alexia had chosen for the occasion. Neutral ground of course; meeting at her apartment or your hotel room wasn't appropriate... yet.

You arrived at the quaint, little restaurant first, a coincidence you were more thankful for than you'd admit, and you chose to seat yourself at a table off to the side. A bit of privacy from strangers could go a long way for a day like today, you figured. You didn't really want a bunch of strangers to witness the influx of emotions you'd no doubt go through when Alexia arrived.

Soon though, that became a case of if Alexia would arrive, because ten minutes passed since you had arrived practically on time and there was still no sign of the woman. And, rather naïvely, you hadn't planned for her to stand you up. You and your therapist had almost fully mentally prepared you for every other outcome except that one. She did have training beforehand, perhaps that had ran late. Still, your mind was slowly spiralling into overdrive with each second that passed.

Until she did arrive.

The bell over the door rang faintly through the room as it opened hastily, a frantic looking Alexia entering the restaurant. She was really here. Here, basically racing over to you whilst weaving through the tables and chairs and the light scattering of people. Here, still as breathtakingly beautiful as ever. Still Alexia.

She came to a stop in front of you, both of you stuck in a trance as if the world had stopped spinning solely for this moment right here. An anticipatory and contemplative silence settled as your eyes' tracked over every feature of the other, a refresh for the memory of the face you'd so dearly missed.

Alexia was the first to speak - a breathless whisper of your name as if she was in disbelief that you were right in front of her. It triggered something in you, because before you had even realised, you had jumped up from your chair and wrapped your arms tightly around her; a hug you had been dying for for longer than you'd admit. It took a few seconds for her to react but soon, Alexia enveloped you just as emphatically.

The embrace was paired with a few more whispered chants of your name from Alexia - in this moment, for her, it felt like the past months without you she had just been floating through her life, waking up everyday as if it were a chore more than anything. But now, in your arms, she felt alive again. The time without you had been worth it for this single moment here.

"Hey." You mumbled quietly into her neck, smiling uncontrollably when the taller woman squeezed you impossibly more in response.

"Hi." Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she spoke. "Hi."

"You already said that." You teased her lightly, meeting her gaze when she moved back to look at you properly. One of her hands came up to delicately cradle your cheek as if she was scared you would disintegrate at her touch. "Don't be so worried. I'm not going anywhere right now."

"You better not." Alexia murmured, her eyes boring down at you so deeply that it caused your breath to hitch in your throat. "I can't believe you're here."

You blushed at the intensity of her look, gesturing a hand down your body jokingly.

"Live in the flesh." You grinned cheekily, gasping slightly when she pulled you back into herself. "Ale."

"Say that again." She said so quietly you almost missed it.

"Alexia. Ale." You repeated, along with a light kiss to her cheek. She physically deflated in your arms, all the tension you didn't even realise was there dissipating immediately. You saying her name was like the last confirmation she needed that yes, you were actually here.

"I..." She started, leaning back and shaking her head whilst letting out a shaky breath. "I missed you. So much."

You smile and... almost instinctively lean in to kiss her - what were you doing?

"I missed you too." You replied, willing yourself to not ruin it, not now, not when you've made it so far. "I really did."

She returned a smile and reluctantly lets go of you in favour of finally taking a seat at the table. You sit across from her and realise that most of the tables were quite small and intimate, and if you had any remaining functional thought processes left that weren't all occupied by Alexia, you would have thought she'd chosen this restaurant for that specific feature. Your knees grazed against each other under the table and Alexia couldn't stop herself from travelling the small distance with her hands to grasp one of yours with both of hers.

"How are you?"

"Well, that's quite a question. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?" You answer humorously, Alexia shrugging.

"Whatever you want. Say it all or say nothing, I'm just glad to be in your company again." You can't help but swoon a little at her words. "But... I would really like it if you were honest with me. And open. Though I understand if not."

"I'm happy to tell you it all. You best have your listening ears on though." You say, delighted to hear her laugh.

"I do, I swear."

At that, you explain everything from start to finish. From the days you spent in bed, to the first therapy session you had, to the moment you opened up to your grandparents, all the way to the point where you made the decision to come back to Barcelona. The only slightly annoying and poorly timed interruption was from the waiter who asked for your orders, the pair of you quickly apologising and taking one glance at the menu before ordering the first thing that caught your eye.

She listened intently to every word you had to say, not afraid to ask a question every now and then whilst also respecting the privacy you still had every right to. Alexia didn't really feel like you absolutely owed her anything, she just wanted a little context to it all, a little closure and an update on your current state of mind. She just wanted you to be well, she just wanted you.

The whole time you spoke, she simply gazed at you with such a soft and earnest look in her eyes. With her presence that, despite all that time, still had the greatest effect on you paired with your newfound self, you were at peace here.

"You promise that you're better now?" She raises her hand up to you, waiting for you to link fingers with her to secure your truth. And this time, you weren't lying when you answered her.

"I'm so much better." You stated with a shy smile, and that statement felt like the final nail in the coffin to the whole journey you'd been on the past two years.

"You don't know how happy I am to hear that." Alexia revealed with a disbelieving shake of her head. You lift your shoulders in a dismissive shrug, glancing down at your joined hands in the centre of the table.

"Are you... are you angry at me?" You ask. You weren't perfect still, you still had doubts and insecurities.

"What would I be angry about?" Her nose scrunched up in genuine confusion.

"Any of it. All of it."

"Hey." She said, nudging your hand to try and gain your attention. You look up at her and blush a little. "Do I seem angry?" You ponder that for a moment, eyes searching her face, before shaking your head no. "Good, because I'm not. Not at all. What person would I be to react like that?"

"An asshole." You mumble, the pair of you breaking out into laughter after a second.

"I'm proud of you and happy for you. You..." Alexia sighs and pauses, wondering if it's the right time to say what she wanted to say. It's her turn to focus her attention on your hands as she mindlessly traced random shapes on the back of your hand with her finger. "This new version of you, I can see that you're less... weighed down by things. There is a different look in your eyes and though I can't quite describe it yet, I know it's a sign that you feel better and more at peace with yourself. That is all I could wish for, for the person I love."

Sorry, what was that?

"Uh, you sti- you still love me?" You stuttered. You just had to know.

"Yes. I do." Alexia confirms, a sheepish smile on her face. "I was being truthful before you left when I said that I'll always love you. Maybe I shouldn't have said this now. You don't have to love me still. I would... I would understand."

"No, Ale, what?" You shook your head at her and squeezed her hands tightly. "I love you. I'll always love you too. Why do you think I wouldn't love you?"

"Why would you think I wouldn't love you?" She hits back, resulting in you both laughing shyly. "It would have to be really crazy situations for me to not love you, chiqui."

"Was this not a crazy situation? Me dramatically fleeing the country out of nowhere?"

"No, and don't say it like that. You had every reason to leave, okay? I told you that when you left and I'll still tell you that now. I don't resent you for choosing yourself." Alexia argues firmly, bringing your hand up to her mouth so that she could kiss the back of it reassuringly. She halts for a moment, wondering if it's appropriate to do so, but judging by the redness of your cheeks she decides to go through with it. "I... just had a few doubts about this all, but now that you're here my mind has calmed down now."

"Are you okay?" You blurt out.

At the mention of herself, your concern immediately turned to Alexia and how she coped through all this. If you knew her as well as you thought you did, you had a feeling you knew what her immediate reaction would be.

"What do you mean?"

Exactly what you guessed.

"I haven't checked up on you yet. I want to know how you've been doing." You answer, shifting forward slightly so that you were closer to her.

"Why check up on me?" Alexia chuckles nervously.

"Because your girlfriend walked out on you and went off the grid for a year and a half. Forget about me right now, Ale, I want to know how you are."

She pauses looking at you, an internal battle going on behind her eyes that you're all too familiar with, until she sighs once more and her demeanour drops.

"Well, I was worried about you, firstly. Everyday I woke up you were the first thing I thought about and the last thing in my mind before I slept. I don't think you ever left my mind, not for long anyway. I wanted the best for you. And then I guess... I had a few selfish thoughts too. But as I said, you're here, and I don't need to think about them anymore." Alexia told you, a tight-lipped smile on her face. "I don't want to say them now, today is about you."

"No, Alexia, it's not. It's a day for both of us." You urge her to understand that it's okay for her to open up, that it's been a hard time for her too, but part of you knows you most likely won't get that out of her today.

"Amor, please. Let's do this another time, for now just focus on the positive. We can talk about me any other time, just not now, please." She begs with a pleading look in her eyes. "I am okay, I swear. You being here has solved everything, it's the truth."

"Promise you'll open up at some point soon?" It's your turn to hold your hand up for her to make a promise.

"As long as you stay long enough." She jokes, but it's clear to see there is some fear and insecurity there. She does link her finger with yours though, a sentiment that's never lost on you. "How long are you staying for?"

"That's the thing. I don't really have a return date yet." You admit, and the flash of hope in Alexia's eyes ignites a feeling of longing inside of you.

Forget timings and socially standardised timelines of falling in love or healing or whatever it was you were doing, you didn't care anymore. Why delay the inevitable process? You were in love with her and she was in love with you. Taking it slow was overrated anyway.

"What does that mean?" Alexia asks, her heart palpitating at the prospect of your answer.

"It means... anything, Ale. What do you want it to mean?"

Perhaps answering questions with another question wasn't the best habit you'd picked up from your therapist.

"You want the truth?" You nod instantly, your emotions already bubbling and she hasn't even said anything yet. "As long as you are ready for it, and you must swear to me that you are because I don't want to h-"

"Oh my god, just say it, please." You beg, eyes wide in hopeful anticipation, waiting for her to admit the thing you had yearned for all these months.

"I want you back in my life, permanently. I want to be your girlfriend again. No matter how long it takes, no matter how slow you decide to take things, the thing I've wished for all this time is to just be yours again, to have you as mine. I'll do anything to make that happen, I swear by it. You want me to throw stones at your hotel window? I'll do it. You want me to sneak onto your balcony in the middle of the night? I'll do that. You want me to stand outside your door with a loudspeaker and signs? I already have the speaker and words prepared. I'll even stand in the centre of Montjuïc at the next game and sing for you if you really want."

You laugh at every ridiculous idea of devotion that comes out of her mouth, eyes glossy with unshed tears. Except, this time, the tears aren't ones of sorrow or longing, they're tears of exultation and relief. Alexia had waited for you, all this time. There had been no one else for her and no matter how selfish it was, it's the best revelation you've ever had.

"I don't think the culers would be too happy about you singing." You teased, rolling your eyes at the smug and nonchalant shrug she gave.

"I don't care, because it wouldn't be for them, it would be for you." She smirks, leaning in closer. Your foreheads were mere inches about now, a fact neither of you could ignore.

"You sure you want me back?" You mumbled shyly. It was Alexia's turn to roll her eyes now as she fought back the temptation to kiss the doubt off of your lips.

"I want nothing more than I want you." She responded, sounding so sure of herself that it was intoxicatingly enticing.

"Even if it's long distance for a little while?"

"Even then." Alexia smiles, resting her arms on her elbows as she brought your joined hands up together to rest in between you both. She pressed her lips to your hands once more, eyes closed as she does so, before looking back into your eyes. "We will figure out the logistics another time. For now, all I know is that I have the love of my life back and I want to spend every second I can with her before she leaves."

"Love of your life, hm?" You whisper with a shy grin, Alexia grunting at how you teased her for her softness. It was something you'd always done, and she was grateful that that part of you hadn't changed. "Well, what do we do now?"

"I'm hoping that you will let me kiss you, finally."

"In here? With all these people?" There really weren't that many people in there, and the few that were wouldn't even take notice of the sickeningly sweet moment occuring.

"Sí. Déjame besarte, por favor." The sound of Alexia speaking Spanish was something you could never get over, it did things to you everytime. How could you deny her when she spoke like she did?

"I guess." You rolled your eyes and sighed dramatically as if it was such an inconvenience.

Alexia simply grinned and planted both her hands on your cheeks before surging forward to kiss you. However, she pauses for a moment, just taking in your appearance and letting out a huff of disbelieved laughter, then she finally presses her lips against yours. A quiet, muffled moan leaves your throat before you can stop it, and the sound of it causes Alexia to smirk smugly. Frustratingly, the stupid but irresistible thing made it aggravatingly difficult to kiss the life out of her like you so wanted to. The smirk was wiped off of Alexia's face the second you broke the kiss much sooner than she wanted to.

"What's wro-"

"I can't kiss you how I want to when you're grinning like a maniac, pendeja!" You groan, butting your forehead against hers to further emphasise your annoyance.

"Pobrecita bebé." Alexia pouts sarcastically at you whilst gently grasping your chin with her thumb and forefinger. That idiotic, childish grin soon forced its way back where it belongs, and you can't help but smile at the sight of it. "I can't help it, amor! What do you want me to do?"

"Be normal and not do that stupid smirk!"

"Oh, perdónarme, I'm sorry I'm so happy that I have you back!" Alexia exclaims, arguing solely to rile you up. What people didn't know about this layered Catalan is that she loved bickering with you or just annoying you in general. You didn't realise quite how much you missed it until this moment now.

"I swear to god, stop being so infuriating and just get o-"

And get on with it she did. You couldn't even finish your sentence before she silenced you in one of the best ways you could think of. And god bless the poor waiter who just wanted to do his job, because when he came to give you your meals, the sight he walked up to was somewhat less than PG. The young guy, who honestly looked no older than 18, cleared his throat louder than normal and the pair of you jumped a mile apart at the unexpected presence. Alexia had to grip the edge of the table to prevent her chair from tipping back, trying desperately to disguise her embarrassment with a tight-lipped smile and rambled thanks to the boy, all the whilst you had to stifle what would be a very loud belly laugh.

"Calláte, that was your fault." Alexia hushed out, her eyes scanning the room to figure out if anyone else had just witnessed that monstrosity. Meanwhile, your face was now bright red due to the laughter threatening to escape out from behind your palm that covered your mouth. It was Alexia's fault really, the shot burst of laughter that barrelled out of you, because she kicked you in the shin as she sipped from the water that had been dropped off at some point during the afternoon. "Dios mío, what is wrong with you!?"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry." You choked out. You took a page from Alexia's book and drank some of your water. As you did, you noticed that Alexia's face wasn't contorted to one of irritation, it was the face she did when she was trying to suppress the overwhelming amount of joy she felt. As someone who was so keen to convey a certain persona, it was one you'd seen a few times since you'd known her, and this was perhaps your favourite look of hers. "I think you'll find it was your awkwardness that was at fault, Ale."

"Yeah, yeah. Eat your food, idiota."

There were periods of peaceful silence as you ate, some conversation here and there, but despite all that has and hasn't been said so far, it felt like there wasn't anything that needed to be uttered. You were both content to enjoy each other's presence again, your eyes meeting every other moment as you ate which resulted in you both blushing and laughing like lovesick teenagers.

It really was tooth-rottingly sweet, and though the dynamic wasn't all too different than it was before, there was solace found in the knowledge that a lot of things had been changed for the better. The prospect of it all was exhilarating, a new path for you both to walk together, and for you there were no longer question marks looming over every part of your life.

The main thing that hadn't changed too much for you, a thing you were relieved about, was the way Alexia made you feel. It was the same as it used to be, except about a million times better. There wasn't so much guilt or gloom that was masked by Alexia, it was all genuine and you already knew that feeling would bleed into your everyday life with her around.

"You said you told your grandparents about me?" Alexia wondered, sitting back in her chair with her hands linked over her stomach.

"I did. They said if this goes well, I have to bring back Barça shirts for them." You revealed with a smile, Alexia chuckling.

"I can organise that for them. As well as tickets to a game if they'd like."

"Alright, Miss Marketing." You roll your eyes at her offer, pausing to take a sip from your half-full glass. "We get it, you love your club. You don't have to spread the message like a missionary."

"I have to win them over some way." Alexia laughs, before her face turns a little more serious and you have a feeling you know what she's about to bring up. "What about your... Dad?"

"Haven't spoken to him since the day I left." You answer, eyes focused on the tracks your finger left behind on the condensation of the glass as it ran around the curve of it. "No idea what he's doing or where he is. Just know that he's alive and that's all I have the energy to care about."

"That's good for you, amor. He doesn't deserve you."

"I know that." You smile genuinely at her, and that's another one of her worries she had for you erased. "I think, out of anyone, my therapist is the one you must give tickets to."

"Mm, yes. I must meet this magical woman one day, I owe my life to her." That charming smirk is back on her face, and you blush at that as well as the sentiment she holds in her words.

"I don't want this meal to end." You mumble in a disheartened voice, reaching your hand across the small gap between you both to grasp one of the hands on her stomach.

"It... it doesn't have to, amor." Alexia starts, catching your attention as you look up to meet her eyes. "You could come over to my apartment. It's been a while since you've been there. The indentation on my balcony chair has left, I think you need to reinstate it."

You roll your eyes at her humour, a soft smile on your face at the laugh she gives at her own jokes. You do think the offer over though - is it too soon? Maybe, but if this counted as a first date, milestones were out the window considering you'd already confessed your love for each other. Did time and patience count when it came to re-conciliating a relationship? Screw it, who cares.

"I'd be happy to come over, Ale. If you want that."

"Are you sure? Because I would love that, except I don't want to rush you or ruin anything if we move too fast."

"Fuck that. I know what I want now and that's you. Who cares what is too fast. I've delayed our relationship once already, I'm not doing that again."

She stares at you from across the table and if it was possible, you'd say her pupils were the shape of a heart with the look she fixed you with. Then she was standing out of nowhere, shrugging her jacket back on whilst you watched her, completely confused, until she held her hand out for you.

"Let's go, ay?" She hums, wiggling her fingers to urge you to move. "No wasting time, you said."

You jut your tongue into your cheek, heart fluttering at her forwardness, and gather your own coat before taking her hand. She presses a soft kiss to your cheek before guiding you towards the exit with a hand on your lower back, a notion she's always done and one you'll always adore.

Silently, she leads you to her car that's parked around the corner and watches with a shy but proud smile as you climb into the passenger side of the car. With every little thing you did, whether that was humming contently as you ate your food or smiling at her absentmindedly every time she spoke, or even just blinking and breathing, she realised she could never verbalise the love she held for you because she'd never experienced it before in her life, ever. Not with pets, not with friends, not with her family. It was otherworldly, unexplainable, and though she wasn't religious, her devotion to you was just as close to that.

Again, there is just light, scattered chatter as she drives you back to one of your favourite places in the world, and once more she guides you to the elevator with her palm pressed to your back. As you stand in the lift, shoulder to shoulder, there are modestly triumphant smiles on your faces, a wordless shared notion sitting between you that everything was worth it in the end. Even if it took a journey and a half to get there, the climb was always worth it for the view at the top.

"What would you like to do now?" Alexia asks as she unlocks her door and allows you to step in before her.

"Uh, can we chill on the balcony? You know it's my favourite spot." You reply with a grin, and Alexia somehow knew you were going to say that, almost as if she's heard those words leave your mouth maybe a few hundred times in the past.

"Of course. You go ahead, I'll get us some drinks."

You nod and walk through to her bedroom, one thing standing out to you; everything is exactly the same as it was before. That comforts you impossibly more than you yourself could ever understand. Future therapy topic?

However, there is one thing that jumps out at you. You walk over to where it stands on Alexia's dresser and pick it up, holding the object in your hand with a smile on your face.

"Ale, why do you have my favourite perfume here? I never once brought it to your apartment." You shout to where she was in the kitchen, no doubt her cheeks a bright pink colour at the fact she'd been caught out.

"Because I bought some, after you left." She replied, and you giggle to yourself at the ever so slightly embarrassed tone that creeps through.

"Liked the smell, did you?"

"Mm. Something like that." She grumbled.

You grin and place it down, heading over to the sliding door adjacent to her bed and opening it. The air that hits you and the sight that greets you causes a wave of familiarity to wash over you, one that you welcome straight away. You take a deep breath and bask in the feeling, leaning on the railing as your eyes raked over the view you adored.

A few minutes later and you hear Alexia walking out behind you, first placing the drinks on the small side table before joining you at the edge. She wraps an arm loosely around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, admiring the view of the city that was literally right on her doorstep.

"I missed this view." You break the silence first, voicing what Alexia already knew.

"I missed you." She murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your shoulder when she notices something. "Ah, I knew you never gave that back."

Delicately, she runs her index finger along the necklace that sat around your neck which she had gifted you way back when, quietly delighted to see you still wearing it. And it also aided her in not feeling so embarrassed about the earlier incident where you had found the perfume she bought in memory of you.

"Yeah, sorry about that." You mumble sheepishly, shivering when Alexia chuckles into your neck where her lips soon leave a kiss.

"No, I like that you still have it."

You hum in acknowledgement, content to stay here in the arms of your girlfriend as the locals carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life below you.

"This was my favourite thing about your apartment." You state a little while later, leaning your head against Alexia's.

"I remember." You feel her say it more than you hear it, before a thought clearly captures her attention as she stands up fully, still with her arm around you. "You could come here, uh... full time, you know?"

"You mean move in with you?" It's not the most surprising thing you'd heard from her in all honesty, but it was still a bit of a shock to the system.

"If you'd like. I know I would be happy with that."

"I would too, but... I think that maybe does cross the line of 'too soon' though." You reply with an apologetic smile, but Alexia understands instantly, of course she does.

"That's okay." She comments, one more kiss to your shoulder. "Do you think you'll ever come back to live here again? Barcelona, I mean."

With this city before you, this woman holding you and loving you so gently, and the sea and the sky merging into one in the far distance, you think that maybe life can be simple after all. That starts and ends with Alexia.

"I think it's only a matter of time."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso

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ceesimz · 12 days

Note

I love your latest fic 😭😭😭 part 2 please😭🤝🏼

Writing process of part 2 is underway :)

No date set, it's a case of when it's done it'll be posted. Hopefully this week but not 100% sure, we'll see what happens :)

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ceesimz · 14 days

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SORRY😭

the way you clarified the apple juice cup was half-empty instead of half-full😀

you are unbelievable

Ahhh you noticed! It's literally the tiniest little easter egg but couldn't resist putting it in. Thank you so much!

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ceesimz · 15 days

Text

Our Sun Is Setting

TW: mentions of homophobia and grief for a parent. It's quite a heavy fic, please keep that in mind.

"I told my Mami about you today."

You didn't think it was possible for a relatively normal, short sentence over the phone to make you feel sick to the pit of your stomach, but it did.

"Oh." That was all you managed.

Your mind was in overdrive as you stood in the middle of the grocery store, buying ingredients for the dinner you were preparing for later that evening when Alexia was going to come over. Any other person would have reacted better, wouldn't have been frozen to the tiles of the shop in the middle of the breakfast aisle, wouldn't have been on the brink of a panic attack from a simple statement.

"She was very happy. And she would like to meet you soon, whenever you like."

Another punch to the gut.

"She also teased me for talking about you so much. I couldn't stop myself." Alexia paired her words with a shy laugh.

The sound of it grounded you slightly as you moved out of the way of an old couple walking in your direction, but your head was still being insistently ruthless as you wandered mindlessly through the rest of the shop. Alexia was still talking over the line, seemingly not noticing your silence, but you couldn't work out what she was saying due to the unbearable ringing in your ears.

You were in shock.

"Are you still there?"

"Y-yeah, sorry. I think the signal went a bit weird, I didn't catch much of what you said." You reply in a shaking voice.

On the other side of the phone, Alexia frowns ever so slightly - she can almost sense something is wrong, but she can't quite figure out what or why. She hopes that when she sees you later, you are perhaps feeling better or if not, at least she's there for you.

"Okay cariño, would it be better if I left you to your shop?" She suggests, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel of her car where she was parked outside of the training complex before an afternoon training session.

"Yeah, probably. Sorry, I'll see you later."

And with that, you hung up.

As you went to slide your phone into your pocket with your shaking hands, you missed, causing it to clatter heavily against the tiles. It earned a few stares from the people around you, only intensifying the jittery dread that surged through you. Pins and needles encapsulated your body as you crouched down to pick up your now-smashed phone, but currently that was the last thing on your mind.

Alexia's statements circled relentlessly around your head - to literally anybody else in the world, hearing those words from someone they had were seeing would be enamouring and seen as a key, heart-warming milestone. But to you, it opened up a dark spot in your mind that you had shunned to the side for some amount of time. It seemed now was the right moment for that unidentifiable problem to break free from its shackles and make itself known, and you were terrified of what those repercussions would be.

You carried out the rest of your shop on autopilot, shoving a handful of notes into the cashier's hand before rushing out without a clue of how much you just gave them. For all you know, you could have massively overpaid them or robbed them in broad daylight. You were so out of touch with the world right now.

So much so, that you were unlocking the door to your apartment before you realised. How long did it take you to get home? Did your phone still work? What time is it? Did you walk, get a taxi, catch the bus, how did you get here? What did you even buy at the shop? Why won't this fucking door open-

A neighbour walked past hastily as you barged a shoulder against the door and almost crashed through it as it finally opened. You sent them an apologetic smile, though there was no doubt in your mind it was more of a manic and unnerving look than anything else, before slamming it shut behind you. The icing on the cake to this whole thing was the fact that the bottom of your shopping bag split open, scattering your groceries across the floor of the entryway. At least now you could see what you had bought.

Whether your legs failed you and buckled or you put yourself on the ground, you kneeled on the floor and gathered everything into your arms to transport it to the kitchen. It was a struggle, your trembling arms barely having the strength to hold themselves up, but you managed to dump your belongings on the kitchen side. Once you'd done that, you rested heavily against the counter, desperately trying to replenish the oxygen that had been stolen from your lungs some point along the way to this moment here.

What the fuck do you do now?

You turned to lean back against the counter and slowly slid down to the ground until you were sat on the floor, head back against the cupboard. There were too many conflicting thoughts and emotions rushing through you that all you could do was sit and stare. Feeling nothing but everything at the same time, thinking nothing but everything all at once.

Seeing Alexia tonight might tip you over the edge. You hope it doesn't end that way. You hope that her presence eases you. You hope she saves you from falling, sinking, spiralling into an irrevocable state of mind, whether she recognises that she's doing it or not. You hope, hope, hope.

Time seems to be a temporary concept for today, because before you've even had the chance to start preparing dinner for tonight, Alexia is at your door. Her voice calls out from behind it, asking if you're in there and if you're okay, because you've zoned out again. You're on the sofa, your cross-body purse still hanging off your shoulder, your jacket still zipped up to your chin, your shoes still on. Your groceries are still strewn on the kitchen counter, and the torn bag is still in the entry way.

"Amor, are you in there? Let me in." Alexia calls out, her voice tainted with concern.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm coming!" You jump up, kick your shoes off, throw your bag onto the small dining table, and open the door. She visibly deflates at the sight of you, her tense shoulders dropping, but her face contorts at your attire.

"Why do you have your chaqueta on?" She asks, and you're beyond grateful to hear it's said in an amused tone.

"Bit cold s'all. Come in." You're not cold. You live in Barcelona, and it's the middle of the spring.

You step to the side and she walks in with a tiny smile on her face. She's glad to be here, you realise. She seems to be in a light and happy mood, carrying no extra stress or other burdens, and, rather selfishly, you're glad.

"How was training?"

You plaster a smile on your face as she takes her shoes off and drops her bag beside them, turning to you and opening her arms. You walk into them with no hesitation, but the feeling isn't as relieving as you desired it to be.

"It was good. I did a amazing free-kick, I will show you the video." Alexia beams, and that does warm your heart somewhat. Her passion for her work, her career, her life, was forever an invigorating thing to witness. It's a shame you weren't in the right mood to appreciate it.

"That's great, Ale." You smile genuinely up at her, more than happy to return the soft kiss she offers.

It momentarily calms and heals a small part of you you'd been hoping she would subconsciously fix, but it wasn't enough and you recognised that straight away. You'd get on your knees, beg, and pray to any higher power that would listen to you just so you'd feel okay for one more day. Except, who do you pray to when you don't believe in God?

"What's that?" She points to the white plastic bag from earlier.

"Oh, the bag for the groceries ripped as soon as I walked in. Must have forgotten to pick it up." You shrug it off, wishing for her attention to be elsewhere for the time being. "I haven't started dinner yet, sorry."

"That's okay." She smiles, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly and kissing your cheek. "How was your day?"

Tough question.

"It was alright, haven't done much." You brush it off, taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen... where the whole area was still a state.

"Oh, what happened here?" Alexia frowns.

If it was just a few items, she wouldn't be so puzzled, but when a good portion of the food left out was fridge and freezer food? Strange.

"I... I, when the bag ripped before, a jar smashed by the door and, uh... I took a while cleaning it and forgot to put the rest of the stuff away." You ramble unusually quickly. It was a blatant lie, but she didn't need to know that.

Except, Alexia was an incredibly attentive person, and she knew straight away that something was amiss. The first sign was that, in her intelligent mind, she knew that theoretically if a jar filled were to smash by the front door, the white bag from earlier would have been covered in its contents - but that wasn't the case. The second sign: whenever you cleaned your apartment, you used a very strong smelling citrus scented spray - she often complained about it and nagged you to get one that smelt nicer. Your apartment didn't smell uncomfortably citrusy right now. Funny observation, sure, but these two pieces of seemingly inconspicuous evidence gave away the fact you weren't right. Oh, and your strange behaviour showcased on the phone earlier and a few moments ago didn't help your case either.

But, she chose not to pressure you about it yet. She wanted to wait until you perhaps opened up to her some point this evening. However, that didn't entirely stop her from speaking up.

"Ven aquí, amor." Alexia demands calmly, reaching a hand out to you. Suppressing a sigh, you take it, and she looks down at you with a pressing stare. "Answer me honestly. Are you okay?"

No.

"Yes, I'm okay. I'm fine, Ale, I am." You try to reassure her, squeezing her hand and smiling up at her.

"You promise?" Alexia raises her eyebrows and offers her pinky for you to seal your, rather untruthful, truth. "It's okay if something isn't right."

Pinky promises, as childish as they may come across to some, were never to be broken. Since the start of your relationship, they had been a thing that had been utilised by the both of you to ensure you are telling the truth. Alexia had broken one of her promises she had made to you before in the past, so why couldn't you do one in return? It's only fair, right? Relationships were meant to be equal after all.

"Promise." You smile again and raise your other hand to lock fingers with her. She smiles, though you can see she's not convinced, but nevertheless she kisses your knuckle.

"Can I help you cook?"

"I'm meant to be cooking for you. And you are a bit of a control freak in the kitchen." You tease, desperately trying to steer the night away from the morose direction it could go down, and instead towards the light-hearted, content way you so needed.

"I think I am just a control freak in general." She smirks at you before turning to put away the disregarded shopping. You would also happily accept that direction too, you supposed. "Venga, I am so hungry, I skipped lunch at training for a meeting and now I regret it."

To your relief, you both make peaceful conversation once you've told her what you planned on cooking, and it's so peacefully domestic as you do your individual tasks beside each other. Every so often, Alexia will joke and bump her hip into yours as you giggle, and this version of your girlfriend is exactly what you needed. For a moment, you feel the cloud over your head slither away, until the topic you wanted to avoid came up.

"So, what do you think of me telling my Mami about us? You never gave me a response on call earlier."

You freeze momentarily, Alexia thankfully not noticing from the corner of her eye. With a subtle clearing of your throat, you continue cutting up the chilli peppers on the board in front of you, but your now shaking hands pose as a slight kitchen hazard considering the sharp knife you were wielding.

"I, yeah, it's nice. Nice that you, um... did that." You stutter out anxiously, nausea settling cruelly in the pit of your stomach. Alexia takes in your reaction and laughs under her breath, turning briefly to leave a kiss on your forehead.

"No need to be nervous, amor. We have been together for many months now, it was due to happen soon. And M-"

"Ow- fuck!" You gasp sharply, dropping the knife immediately and cradling your hand as blood began dripping from the middle joint of your index finger.

"Woah, amor, what happened?" Alexia winces at the sight, grabbing a few squares of kitchen paper and pressing it against your cut.

"I- my hand slipped and I obviously cut myself." You grimace, eyes tightly shut to rid yourself of the sight. "It burns too, fuck."

Alexia knew you didn't handle blood too well, so she turned you away from the scene and wrapped one arm around your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly whilst she still applied pressure to the cut.

"It's okay, it's okay, it hurts more because of the chilli. Take some breaths, vale?" You nod hastily, not really realising your cheeks had puffed out as you held your breath. Alexia watches your face closely, eyes still closed as you took deep breaths to calm yourself. "You're doing good, bebita. Keep doing that, so good. Let's relax a bit, hm? We should sit down in case you get lightheaded."

The last sentence is her thinking out loud as she started guiding you towards one of the chairs at the dining table. Resting one elbow on the table whilst Alexia continued to hold your wounded hand, you lay your forehead against your uninjured hand as Alexia crouched beside you. Your joined hands lay in your lap as you calmed down, or at least tried to.

To Alexia, it would appear that you were just mentally recovering from the shock of the incident. But actually, you were trying to dispel the unsuspected horror that filled you to the brim at Alexia's earlier reminder.

I told my Mami about you today. She wants to meet you.

That line inevitably meant you had to tell your family too. Except, you couldn't. There was no way you would, no way you could, not without facing realities you had pressed down far into unreachable and forgettable depths of your mind. It was all too much, it was simply not a possibility for you. You knew what it would lead to, and you weren't ready for that.

For the past months you'd been with Alexia and the time you spent getting to know her before that, you had mostly lived in a bubble that dissociated you from the broken, cracked, ruined, utterly destroyed parts of your brain. It had been perfect so far, and you'd be fucking damned to leave that bubble now. But perhaps it was too late and the damage had been done long before Alexia said what she said earlier, maybe that darkness just needed a catalyst before it submerged you in its wake.

"Amor? Hey, come back." One of Alexia's hands lightly patted your cheek to bring you back into the room. "You scared me there. Your breathing got really bad and you were in a... a weird daze. I was talking but you weren't reacting or anything. Are you back now?"

You nodded wordlessly at her, still not entirely taking in what she was saying.

"The blood... freaked me out." You rasp breathlessly, shaking your head a little to rid the glaze over your vision.

"That's okay. Do you feel a little dizzy? I can get you something to help that. Clear your head maybe." You nod again, and she gently lets go of your hand. Cold shivers immediately burst through at the lost contact, but you had to get over yourself and get used to it.

Cautiously, you take the tissue off of your hand and inspect the damage. It doesn't seem deep enough for stitches, which instantly fills you with relief. If you weren't already in a state of intense dismay already, a trip to the hospital would cause a hurricane of emotions that left a lasting imprint on everything and everyone around.

"Here, some apple juice. To get your blood sugar back." Alexia places a mug of apple juice in front of you and notices your now bare hand. "Oof, amor, that looks painful. I'm not sure if that may need a doct-"

"No! No doctors, no hospital. It doesn't need stitches, it's fine." You rush out, eyes wide in what Alexia guesses is fear as you look down at where she's crouched again. "Please, no hospital. It just needs to be cleaned and wrapped up."

"Okay, if you are sure." Alexia replies, nudging the cup closer to you. "Drink that and I will get the first aid kit."

You do as she says, drinking the half-empty cup of apple juice whilst she searches through the kitchen for the green box of medical supplies. Her eyes hardly leave your slumped form at the table, filled with worry for you. Things weren't adding up now, it was obvious, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could ignore it.

A part of her feels afraid to push you; emotionally she wants the best for you and if subtly, or not so subtly, urging you to do that works then she'll do it, but intellectually she senses a deep, internalised issue that could rip through you if handled incorrectly. It's not up to her to cause that. So she asks a question that's so layered it flattens all remaining atmosphere in the room.

"Cariño, how do you feel now?" She pretends to busy herself with organising the already packed box of medical necessities you kept.

"Better." Phyiscally true, but mentally wrong.

"Why don't we order something for dinner instead?"

As if you weren't filled with disconcertion already, that suggestion signs, seals, and stamps the envelope set to be sent to the fucking psyche ward for your admission. Were you so inadequate now that you couldn't even cook a simple meal? Apparently so.

"O-Okay."

Alexia frowns and comes back over with alcohol wipes, antiseptic cream, and a box of plasters, placing her items on the table and gently tapping your chin to get you to look up at her.

"I love you, you know that?"

The words fell from her lips before she could stop them. Alexia maybe wasn't the most emotionally helpful person ever but she sure did try. She thought her saying that would comfort at least a small part of you, but she couldn't be more wrong. It planted the seed of an unforgivable idea in your head.

The realisation of what you had to do poured over you like cold water, washing away every ounce of the little remaining hope and positivity you had. A feeling akin to mourning settled in your heart, accompanied by the debilitating weight of this twisted entity in your mind seeping into your bones. Your body strained under the heaviness of it all, unable to capacitate for the burden of living life like this, only confirming that the thing you must do was your only solution. Your lower lip quivered as the thought consumed you, the devil in your head chanting it over and over and over and o-

"I do know." Your lips tug into a smile but your throat bobs to conceal the sobs bubbling at the surface. "I know that. I love you too."

For the remaining time you had with her, you would make sure she knew that too.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

It's silent between you both as she delicately cleans the wound before applying cream and wrapping it up in bandages. It's silent as she leads you to the sofa, silent as she ordered your meal for you from one of the common takeaways you always got together. It's silent as you wait for it to come. It's less silent when Alexia turns on Netflix and opts for a new TV show for you both to watch together. It's still fairly silent even as you sit beside her, back stiff and straight beside the woman whose heart you were soon to break.

Alexia has never loathed quietness more than she does right now. It was an occurrence she valued at any other point in her life; watching football, reading, studying a game, relaxing in a post-match bath, going on a solitary walk to gain some peace of mind. But here, in this moment beside you, her skin crawls at the unbearable stillness of the room. Sure, she did enjoy silence with you too, but it felt like the unavoidable elephant in the room was stomping on her heart with every beat of her heart. There was a hidden agenda in the belly of the beast attacking her, and for some reason it felt like she was running out of time to put out the fire.

Her spiralling was interrupted when the buzzer of your apartment rang through the room, letting you know there was someone outside of the apartment complex without a fob to enter the building. Alexia reluctantly gets up from the sofa to let them in and hovers by the door to wait for the delivery driver to find your flat. She keeps her eyes on you, subtly watching you attentively, but even if she stood face-to-face with you, noses touching and breaths mingling, you wouldn't have a clue she was there. Your senses were incredibly warped and you were so far detached from reality, it felt like you and Alexia were two worlds apart.

What's at stake right now is something that's much bigger than the both of you. The dynamic around you may as well have a 'fragile: handle with care' sticker slapped on it, except, even that wouldn't have stopped the hands of the puppets controlling the world from acting so cruelly. You'd taken constant blows for quite some time now with no respite. Just as you started to recover from one punch, another would come to hit you square in the face.

"Hey." Alexia lightly knocks on your forehead with her knuckle. Every concerned glance from the woman in front of you felt like a jab at your body, slowly working you down until you gave in. "You are here, but you are not here."

You blink gormlessly up at her, your shoulders lifting in a careless shrug before you took back control of your mind.

"Food's here?" You force a smile, taking the paper bag from her hand and walking on shaking legs to the kitchen. You get plates and cutlery out, dishing up your meals before joining Alexia back on the couch, the taller woman now the one seemingly stuck in her head. "Ale, your meal."

"Ah, thank you." She leans in to quickly kiss your cheek when you sit beside her again.

The blonde woman has one more trick up her sleeve to try and bring you out of your shell, and it's one she hardly ever played.

Immediately, she begins to babble on about her day and her teammates and her family and whatever new antics Mapi and the youngsters had got up to, going abnormally overboard with the amount of anecdotes she was spewing out. Everybody knew Alexia was not a talkative person, and she only ever acted like this when she was in a rare giddy mood. And that really was rare.

The Alexia on display so far tonight was not in a giddy mood. She was happy, of course she was, but factor in the concern she'd shown for you tonight and the giddiness she had not portrayed at all even recently, something was off. It threw you completely off-kilter, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why she was doing this.

"I'll tell my Dad about us tomorrow." You blurted out, interrupting another of her rambles. It's kind of the truth, not all of it, and it's not the biggest decision you've made for yourself tonight, but you owed her something at least for putting up with you.

"Que?" She frowns. Out of all things she'd expected you to say tonight, that wasn't one of them.

"You're talking a lot because you want to know why I'm acting weird. It's because I'm thinking about telling my Dad about us, I'm scared to do it but you told Eli so I'll tell my Dad." You explained, pushing your food around your plate as Alexia processes your words for a moment.

"You don't have to do that if you don't want to. I don't mind, I know things haven't been... haven't been great between you both since your Mu-"

"Okay, but he's still my Dad." You cut her off again. You're not in the mood to discuss what she was about to bring up.

"You don't owe him anything, amor. Sure, he's your Dad, but you said it yourself only a few weeks ago; he's an idiot. No one should treat their child the way he's treated you after they've just lost their Mami."

There. She said it anyway.

"Alexia, I know you're just trying to stick up for me, but please don't go there. This has nothing to do with my Mum." Another partial lie.

The subconscious, realistic part of you knows every issue you've had in the last two years has everything to do with... her. But right now, the impulsive side that has been at the forefront of your mind ever since it happened wants to blame everything on the world around you and not your flaws that you've ignored all this time. Anyone could see that your refusal to sit with your grief and just feel was your Achilles' heel.

"Okay. I'm sorry for mentioning it. But I am absolutely on your side, amor, I'm always on your side. So if you want to tell your Dad, tell him. If you want me there next to you or if you want me out of the country whilst you do it, then I'll do it. I will do whatever you want me to." Alexia tells you, her voice pleading as earnest swirled around the eyes that bore down into you.

Well, you thought, that's good to know.

"Thank you." You smile ever so slightly, dropping your fork and placing a hand on her leg. You squeeze her knee three times, one more chance for her to understand the love you held for her.

"De nada, amor. Now eat up, please."

The pair of you spent the rest of the evening delicately dancing around the untamed elephant from earlier whose patience was wearing thin at the prospect of going entirely avoided for the night. Conversation topics were kept light, finally giving you a brief reprieve from the onslaught of your mind, and Alexia kept her arms tight as they wrapped around you. It was as if with each breath you let out or with each twitch of your body, she held on tighter and tighter, every hint of movement from you a reminder of your presence and how much she ineffably adored you.

Yet, the sun began to set, indicating that it was almost time for Alexia to leave for the night. She had to get up early tomorrow whilst you had the day off, and initially Alexia always agreed that when this was the case, you should sleep separately so that you could rest. However, as she collected her bag and slipped on her shoes, she kept her movements purposely slow to delay her departure. The last thing she wanted to do was leave you alone.

"Are you sure you will be okay tonight?" Alexia sighs, a reluctant hand on the door handle.

"I'll be okay." You answer simply, hesitating for a moment to decide on your goodbye gesture, before settling for a lone kiss on the cheek.

"Call me, immediately, if that changes. If you wake up in the night and need me, I will be straight here. If you call me in the middle of training, I will be straight here. Please. Don't suffer on your own."

Oh Alexia. If only you weren't so late.

"Everything will be okay, Ale." You tell her, desperately trying to disguise the emotion threatening to break through. "Te veo pronto, sí?"

"Sí. I love you." Alexia smiles, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, then opening the door.

"I know." Is all you can say now to that declaration. And fuck, if Alexia hadn't felt so uneasy in her life after that.

Somehow, you managed to sleep that night. Maybe it was your body allowing you to build up all the strength you need for the day ahead, because your life was about to be irreversibly changed. And the worst was yet to come.

"Hi Dad." You murmur quietly from your place in the corner of your sofa, legs tucked underneath you as you pitifully hold onto a cushion for comfort.

"Well, it's been a while since I've heard from you." The man on the other side of the phone chuckles spitefully. "Remembered who I was again?"

"Hm. How have you been?" The best way to deal with such a man was to ignore his behaviour, in the hopes he dropped the act when you didn't give a reaction. Perhaps you underestimated him.

"That's a loaded question, you know that. It's all everyone asks nowadays and I'm fucking sick of it." He grumbled, and for the first time in a while it sounded like his anger wasn't directed at you.

"I do know that." You stated.

"So why ask then? Still as dense as ever, I see."

Okay, well, clearly you judged him too soon.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing." You mumble insecurely, a frown settling on your face as you try to hold back the emotions you knew would spill out sooner rather than later.

"Don't lie to me." He snapped through gritted teeth. "You couldn't give a shit about me if your life depended on it. Be honest and tell me what you want, I have better things to do than talk to you."

"I... I have a girlfriend, Dad. Here in Barcelona, I've met someone." You reveal with a hint of a smile on your face.

All morning, you'd been in over your head on whether to tell him about Alexia. Part of you thought it was futile since you had already decided on your future with her, or rather, the lack thereof. But the naïve and childish part of you painfully thought he could be happy. That wasn't a concept this man had understood as of late, so it was a wonder why you'd thought he'd be happy for you. Especially given his latest behaviour, and his long-standing opinion on your sexuality. If only your Mother was here.

"Wow. Because I couldn't give you the life you want after your Mum left-" he could never say the true reason for her absence out loud, "-you look for it elsewhere? What did I tell you about doing that? A home can't be a person, kiddo, you need to stop looking for that. Your Mother wasn't home, I'm not home, this new 'girlfriend' isn't home, a person cannot be a fucking home! You're just desperate to fill in the love that's absent in the death of your Mother. Get a fucking grip of yourself and get over it, this 'girlfriend' business. You know your Mum would never have stood for this."

Silence.

Of all the words in the world, across all languages and cultures, over all periods of time, there was only one description to be used of how you felt right now. In your little flat in the heart of Barcelona, cowering in the corner of the couch, you felt suffocated. Any semblance of clarity, peace, hope, love - suffocated, by the words of your father, by the events that had changed you for the worse throughout your life, by the burden of simply just living.

Except, the words 'living' and 'simply' could never be used in the same sentence, because that wasn't a possibility. Every aspect of human nature wasn't simple, that's the beauty in it. The thousands of tiny mechanical functions in your body that allow you to breathe, the hundreds of muscles exerting themselves daily for one small step, the twitches and spasms of nerve endings to feel just a little alive. And despite it only requiring thirteen miniscule muscles to smile compared to forty-seven to frown, the latter felt so much easier. The weight of a smile had never seemed so damning, so suffocating.

The promise of life was a unique one, that's common knowledge and yes, life is beautiful, but any glorification of the struggle of living was inefficacious, nothing could extinguish the flame of the fire inside of your mind that was already uncontrollably burning through your self-preservation. No promise of light one day shining in your world again was worth it; you were merely a shadow of the people you loved.

"Okay Dad." You choke out. Even uttering one word was such a fucking exhausting challenge. "I... I planned on breaking up with her anyway. I think I want to come home."

You expected the feeling of verbalising your plans to be freeing, but the gravity of what you were going to do grounded you so humbly it almost almost stopped your heart entirely.

"Wow, I mean, if I had known that you would listen to my opinion and follow my advice so quick, I would have given it more often." He laughed maliciously, his way of celebrating your fall from grace.

"Can I come home?" You can't stop yourself in time from asking that question in such a begging tone. Another victory for him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetheart. If you're that desperate, maybe stay with your grandparents. Perhaps they'll want you." He sighed as he said it as if he was in a rush, acting like speaking to his daughter was such a chore. "Listen kiddo, you done now? I've gotta go."

"Yep, I'm done. Can I see you if I come home?" The question was paired with a hasty swipe away of tears as if the man hundreds of miles away could see them.

"Oh honey. You fascinate me. You're at danger of almost being interesting now, you know that?" He laughed once more at his own words before hanging up.

Silence again. Such a plaguing thing.

The weight of the conversation you just had collapsed down on you, a whirlwind of emotions surging through you as a result of it. Each beat of your heart served as a reminder of every word spat at you from the man you once thought held all the love you had to give, the thump against your chest echoing his disappointment and distaste for you. A daughter's love for their father was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous things to themselves, proving that point yourself as you mentally scrambled to find a way to mend the fractured bond, yet each time coming up empty, feeling powerless and minute in the face of your father's disappointment. Every response from that man carved deep wounds of guilt and regret into every crevice of your mind.

Behind a facade of stoicism, a torrent of emotions fulminated throughout your body - a spiteful mix of every insecurity, every doubt, every shattered dream, it all coming together to form the final piece of the puzzle that was needed to make the decision to break out of your life. There was no other choice.

Outwardly, there wasn't a hint of such breakage shown anywhere on your body. And that's how it had to be, that's how you had to be. Completely numb to it all until you had escaped this turmoil.

By 2pm, everything was different.

Flight booked. Every suitcase you owned bursting at the seams, waiting by the door. Apartment tenancy ripped up. Your resignation handed in to your work. Every bit of furniture, every little trinket, all of it ready to be left behind. Despite it all, the most heartbreaking symbol of your new start, was the cardboard box of Alexia's belongings sat in the passenger seat of your car as you drove, waiting to be dropped off discreetly outside her door.

Your life was the perfect image to sum up how quick things can change. Twenty-four hours ago, you were walking to the local supermarket to pick up the stuff to make a perfect meal for you and your girlfriend to eat and have a quiet, relaxed evening together. Now? You were driving to said girlfriend's apartment, equipped with the words to tear your lives apart.

Oh, how things change.

In the blink of an eye, you were parked up outside her apartment building. You had the key to her apartment in your hand and the code to enter the complex memorised for one more use. You failed to notice her car parked in her usual space as you walked through the car park. The heaviness of the box was nothing compared to the heaviness in your chest of what you were about to do.

Ears ringing, eyes blurred with unshed tears, throat burning and constricted, your bones aching under the weight of purely just existing, all of it immensely overwhelming. But you were numb still. Numb and out of tune with your feelings, because you had to be. Otherwise, all of this couldn't happen. There was no way any of this would be possible if you just listened to what your heart wanted. No, that devil on your shoulder had gotten its way once again.

"Oh, what are you doing here?"

Fuck.

You had truly done it this time, because here Alexia was, standing in the doorway of her apartment as you froze at the sight of her.

"What are you doing here?" You ask frantically, desperately praying for her attention to be anywhere but the box of her stuff in your arms.

"Well, this is my apartment, amor. I just got back from training but I left my phone in my car." Alexia answers, an eyebrow raised down at you. Of course she'd catch on that something was wrong. She always did. It was one of the things you loved her for. "What's this? Are you a delivery driver now?"

She laughs to herself as she says it, taking the box from your arms and placing it on the floor. You're still stuck to the spot, eyes wide in fear at what she was about to find, and your heart thumps angrily against your chest in protest, trying to get you to react in some way. But it's too late. Alexia has already opened the box and began to read the letter in there before you could stop her.

The smile on her face immediately dissipates at the first line.

"To Ale, I'm sorry... what do you mean?" She asks, glancing up at you briefly before continuing to read it.

That's when your body finally decides to react. You slowly back away from the woman in front of you, but Alexia grabs your wrist tightly to stop you from running away.

"No, you will not leave my sight right now. Explain this fucking letter, what is going on?" Alexia attempts to sound commanding, but there's a certain glisten to her eyes and a lump in her throat. "What is going on? Tell me, now, please."

"I... I'm sorry, Alexia." You croak out, rushing to wipe the tears already falling with the sleeve of your sweater. "I am sorry, you have to know that."

"Sorry about what!?" Alexia shouts, then takes a deep breath to compose herself momentarily. "Come inside, sit down, and please can we talk?"

"Everything I have to say is in the letter, Alexia, I-"

"No, no it is not. This letter is hardly a whole page. You've come to my apartment with a box of my stuff and a letter that starts with the words 'I'm sorry', I'm not letting you leave." Alexia says, and you have no choice but to listen to her. However, she softens for a moment, and the lost look on her face tugs on every one of your heart strings. She takes one of your hands and squeezes it three times, resulting in another stream of tears from yourself. "Please. Whatever is going on, give us a chance to solve it. I need you to explain what's happened so I can help you, amor. Please."

You relent easily, forever at her mercy, and follow her into her apartment. She leaves the stacked box by the front door, completely unbothered by it - in fact, she doesn't ever want to look inside it if this conversation goes the way she thinks it'll go. She's kicking herself mentally, her mind already skimming over every interaction she's had with you recently, desperately trying to plot a point in time where your attitude had changed. It's easy for her to do so, the moment jumps out almost immediately. If only she hadn't been so scared, so cautious, maybe she could have solved this before it was too late.

"What do you want me to say, Ale?" You sigh exasperatedly as you sit on the edge of her sofa, eyes fixated on your fidgeting hands.

"What do I want you to say? Amor, I want you to be honest and explain why you're sorry, why you've come over with all my stuff, why you've written me this letter. It's all come out of nowhere, I have no idea what's going on and I just want you to clue me in. Yesterday we were laughing together and having a nice evening, and now you're... I don't even want to say it." Alexia laughs nervously as she speaks, her shoulder stuck up in a shrug as her hands gesture eratically.

"It's okay, I'll say it for you." Your false facade takes over, body armoured with a hard exterior. "I'm leaving, Ale. I'm leaving Barcelona, leaving Spain."

To hear you say those words were perhaps the greatest pain Alexia has ever felt in her life.

"Leaving... leaving me?" She whispers quietly, the question punctuated with a gulp as she swallows her emotions.

She sounds eerily similar to a young, innocent child who's just lost all they've ever known. It makes you wonder for a brief second if you're a sick individual for causing such pain, but you shun those thoughts away for a later date, because right now you need all the feigned courage you can muster up.

"Yes." The ease with which you say it sends shivers down her spine. It's the hardest sentence you've ever had to say, and it's just one word - once more an example of how life can never be conformed to simplicity.

"Why are you being so cold? This is not the woman I know." Alexia practically pleads, inching closer to you on the sofa. Her hands land on your knees, but you're too far in to back out now.

"I don't know who I am anymore, Alexia. I need time and space to figure my shit out, that's what is best for me right now and that's why I have to go." She scoffs in your face once you've finished, and that's the moment this conversation goes far more downhill you could have expected.

"What about me? What about what's best for me? You're leaving me behind!"

"Leaving you behind? You're acting like a sad dog that I've just abandoned in the middle of nowhere! You were perfectly fine in your life, your very successful and established life might I add, before I came along and you'll be better off without me!" You snap back. This is not the direction you thought this would go. "Why can't you accept the fact I need to leave?"

"Because I fucking love you! I love you and I don't want to live a life that doesn't have you in it! But maybe I should grow out of that opinion since it seems so easy for you to turn off your feelings for me, so easy for you to be so selfish at the flick of a switch."

"Selfish? I'm being selfish?" You repeat her words back to her with an outraged laughter that sounds all too familiar to you. Is this who you've turned into? "I'm being selfish for choosing what's best for me? I'm being selfish for wanting to take time on my own to figure my life out? I'm being selfish for wanting to take time to grieve my own, dead Mother?"

Alexia's face falls as soon as those words come out of your mouth. Never in her life had a sentence caused such a visceral reaction from her because it feels like someone's just plunged a dagger right into her heart. She'd been too panicked, too focused, on her own feelings to even wonder why you had made this decision. She had been the selfish one for jumping to conclusions and now her lethal arguments had completely tanked the conversation. The possibility that there was no coming back from her vicious assumptions instilled a deeper, darker fear in her than she had ever felt in her life.

"No, no, I didn't-" She begins to dig herself out of the hole she finds herself in, but you're in no mood to entertain her begging.

"Good one. Really funny, that." You stand up and go to walk away, but not without one last attempt from Alexia to stop you.

"I didn't mean that, I swear, I am just so confused and scared and-"

"Do you not think I'm scared too? This will be the second time I've uprooted my life and regretted everything I have ever done. I'm terrified to leave, terrified to find out what's waiting for me at home, terrified to figure maybe this is all I am and that there's no better side of myself to find." Your voice trembles with a mix of fear and fury. "I've realised that throughout our whole relationship, from the moment I stepped into this country, I've been someone that I'm not. Losing my Mum was losing the biggest part of myself, and everything I've done from then 'til now has just been a poor attempt at filling in the hole in my heart-"

"S-so, what, you're saying our relationship was fake?" Alexia splutters out. You pause at her words, completely caught off-guard by her utterly stupid and inept fight back.

"That's what you caught from all that?" You ask, dumbfounded. "Right. Because it's always about you, Alexia, isn't it? This whole conversation has just been you talking about yourself. Have you even properly heard what I've said? Have you read more than the first line of my letter?" The guilty look on her face says it all. "That's what I thought."

"But I... I know what it's like to lose a parent, amor, I can help you!"

"Wow. For the sake of us both, don't go there, Alexia. Don't." You fix her a warning glare, shaking your arm out of the grasp of her hand.

"You can't leave. You can't, I won't let you. It's not right." She speaks sternly again now, a final plea for your relationship.

"Oh, fuck off Alexia. You have the emotional maturity of a teenage boy. I'm done with this now. Good luck at the World Cup this summer."

You walk out and slam her door shut without looking back.

Alexia's life had just taken a nosedive, because a breakup was absolutely not on her agenda for the day. The hand that had grabbed your arm earlier tingled with the stain of your touch and certain areas of the room were tainted by the lingering scent of your perfume. One conversation and you had vanished from her life - an excruciating result caused by her own incompetency to act like a decent human being.

For some time after you had left, she had been stuck rooted to her sofa, her mental temporarily ruined by the events of the day. A traumatic event had occurred, this was a natural reaction, to go into shock. To be so damaged by something that all she could do was sit and be consciously unconscious to the world around her until her body and mind could recover.

There was one phrase that ran circles around her mind. It isn't fair. What that defiance was directed at, she wasn't so sure yet. At first it had been you, but as the clouds cleared a little, it was obvious that it wasn't. Despite her words earlier and how accusing they came out, she didn't blame you. Not one bit. No, her anger was aimed at the so called 'fate' bullshit that everyone championed so often. How can people praise such a phenomenon when it had brought so much evil into people's lives? It felt like everything came at the price of something, and that's not fair.

For Alexia? It felt like her career came with the price of her Father. Everything she had done was because of him, and he couldn't even be here to see it. No, because fate or destiny or whatever other nickname it had, had taken that opportunity away from her. It isn't fair. For you? If anyone asked you, in the future when you're in your rocking chair, a knitted blanket draped over you and the waves of the ocean lapping away in front of your eyes, you'd say that in this period of time you had gained the world for the price of your soul. This dichotomy of good and evil sometimes felt like it wasn't worth the fight because in cases like this, it just wasn't fair.

The realisation of it all left a sour taste in Alexia's mouth. But something seemed to snap in her, some higher power finally giving her a backbone, and she sprung into action. You didn't deserve any of the stuff that had happened to you, and she sure as hell wasn't going to be another name on that list. One of her worst fears, a view shared by all of humanity, was to remember someone she loved in such a gut-wrenchingly awful way that it tarnished her entire memory of them. That's something she couldn't do with you. If you were to end this, it had to be on good terms.

So, she grabbed her keys and headed down to her car, where her phone still was. Alexia was a determined woman; when she put her mind to something, she got it done. This would be no different.

Call after call, after call, after call, came through on your phone from the one woman you probably least expected. There was only so long you could hold her off because, after all, you were once in a relationship with the woman, meaning you got a front row seat to her persistance.

"Hi, uh, Alexia. What do you want?" You say when you answer, finally.

"We have to talk more." Alexia rushes out quickly, for lack of better words and composure.

"I don't know if I want that after what happened earlier." You state in a defensive tone. But secretly, you craved nothing more.

"I know, and I am so so sorry for all that. It was so selfish and awful of me, I regretted every word that came out of my mouth the second I said it. I just... can we talk again? Please?" She begs, her hand fidgeting against the steering wheel of her car as tears silently rolled down her cheeks. "I would hate myself if I didn't at least try for this, amor, let me try."

"The decision is final, Ale, you can't change it. I'm sorry. You said yesterday that you would do whatever I wanted you to do. Well, this is what I need you to do, Alexia. I need you to let me go."

"Okay." Alexia squeezes her eyes shut, tears spilling out the corners, and her clenched fist comes to rest against her forehead. "Can I see you one more time? So I can properly apologise? I have no other intentions than that, I promise. I just... I can't remember you that way. I can't remember us in the way we left it. It doesn't give us as people any respect and it does not do justice to the beauty of our relationship."

That was the tipping point for you. There's the woman you love.

"Okay." You smile and sit up in your bed where you previously lay in a cocoon of your own pity. "How about we meet on neutral grounds this time?"

"Let's do that." Alexia responds, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

Some time later, you found yourself walking along the promenade of the beach, looking for where Alexia said she was seated on one of the benches. It was a chilly evening with no help from the sea, so you had your hands tucked into your coat pockets and your chin hidden under the zip of your coat. Alexia had spotted you long ago, a content smile on her face at the all too familiar sight of you and your distaste for the cold. You recognise her soon after, taking a deep breath before approaching her.

"Hi." You mumble, muffled by your jacket and the wind whipping around you. Alexia hears it of course.

"Hi. Sit down, please?" Alexia taps her hand on the wooden slats of the bench beside her, and you quickly follow suit. "I, uh... got you this."

She hands over a takeaway cup of hot chocolate. Your favourite.

"Thank you. Something to keep my hands warm." You say, happy to see her laugh quietly and nod.

"Exactly why I got it."

The pair of you sit in silence for a while, encapsulated by the serenity of the sky and the elegance of the ocean. Strangely, you realise, the two things resemble you and Alexia. Two things of beauty that never quite meet, never quite mend, just a parallel that reflects each other. You can't tell if that's a horrifying allusion or a calming one.

"So, what's this then, a... a post-mortem of our relationship?" You joke, giggling when Alexia scrunches her nose at the suggestion.

"I mean... you could say that." She shudders as she says it, not quite at peace with the new revelation. She's not sure she ever will be.

"I have to go, Alexia. I... it's so hard leaving you behind. It's the hardest decision I've ever made, but it's one I have to make. I hope you know that."

"I do. I do know that. I want you to know I understand. I'll never be... content with it, but... it's a necessary evil." Alexia has her eyes cast down on her coffee cup, fiddling with the lid. You notice and take hold of one of her hands, intertwining your fingers perhaps for one final time.

"It is. I've got no energy to fight anymore. I need to sit with my emotions and all that shit," You pause as you sigh dramatically, making her laugh once more. "So that I can figure out who I am after all this. Doing that whilst in a relationship isn't fair on either of us. It'll only lead to something more soul destroying, no matter how hard this conversation is."

"I know." Alexia purses her lips and nods, finding the strength to look at you. A genuine smile breaks out onto her face. "I had a feeling something was wrong a little while ago. I guess I'm just... angry. That I can't solve it."

"I'm angry that I can't solve it." You repeat, a sad smile on your face. "There's just a lot wrong with me, I think. And I can't burden you with it all. I have a lot of baggage I drag along and there's an awful lot of cracks in my mind-"

"There's cracks in everything, amor, that's how the light shines in."

You had half a mind to berate her for interrupting you again, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Why were you leaving this woman again?

"I'll value you forever, Ale. Nothing could make me change that, even if we left things at what happened before. You're the most astounding person I've ever met, and even when I'm breaking your heart, you still treat me better than anyone else. If we forget what happened at your apartment." You tease, the both of you chuckling lightly.

"It's hard to hate you when you're breaking my heart so gently." Alexia states. "I'll always love you. It's probably not the right thing to say but it's the truth."

"No, I... I'll always love you too." You respond, absolutely certain. Despite the predicament you both find yourselves in, Alexia finds every bit of relief and closure she could ever need in that one simple sentence.

"When do you... when do you leave?" She asks with a sniffle.

"I fly out later tonight." You answer quietly.

"Will you come back one day?" It's the one thing she knows she probably shouldn't say, but she can't resist. She has to know.

"I don't know, to be honest." She turns away and nods slowly. You squeeze her hands three times.

"If you do, will you let me know?"

You can't promise her that, and she knows it.

"I will." You smile softly up at her.

You both fall into silence once more. This one feels a little less suffocating than those of the past. There's still so much more to say, but as your head falls to rest on Alexia's shoulder and you both look out at the view that had been the background of your relationship, neither of you can name a reason to interrupt the peace that's settled. It's perhaps more peace than either of you had felt in a long time.

The thing is, about the ocean and the sky, is that they do meet. They're one and the same in their own essence, and in the distance, they do eventually meet. And the sun will rise again. Two inevitable occurrences that form at the hands of a little thing called fate. Or destiny. Or whatever it is.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso community #woso imagine

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ceesimz · 23 days

Note

that leah fic was fantastic I just can't help but to laugh about the title a little bit cus panna means 'to fuck someone' in finnish

Oh💀

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ceesimz · 24 days

Text

Panna!

Not my best work, but it was fun to write nonetheless. FYI: panna means nutmeg, but it's also a playground/street football game where it is either a 1v1 or basically a huge free-for-all and you had to get as many nutmegs/pannas as possible - great memories :)

Living with Leah was a much different experience than you thought it would be.

The first time you met her she was a little shy but the more you got to know her, the more enamouring she was and before long you had completely fallen for her, as had she for you. Each date, you peeled back another layer of each other's personality and you saw a side to her that was inexplicably softer than the sometimes rather grumpy, stoic demeanor she had for her career. It was easy to like her, adore her, and eventually love her, and you made sure to offer her a safe space for her to let go in when she was away from the view of the public. She did the same for you, allowing you to switch off when you needed to in her presence. Ultimately, the relationship was so rewarding and comforting, it seemed almost too good to be true. In moments of self-doubt and insecurity, you felt like you were just waiting for the shoe to drop.

And when you moved into your new house together, that shoe did indeed drop, but in a way you didn't expect.

As time went on of you sharing the same space, an extremely irritating side of Leah came out in full force. You had seen glimpses of it so far of course, and it never failed to make you laugh, but living with her? It was next level.

Leah seemed to embody the nature of that of an annoying younger sibling or a tiresome teenager who had a maddening addiction to just being absolutely infuriating. When she was in a certain type of giddy mood, this habit seemed to reach new heights. You loved it, but sometimes it felt like you were going to explode with the aggravation you felt towards her.

You know that saying of if you don't react, they'll get bored and stop? Yeah, that didn't apply to Leah.

"Leah, I'm trying to cook dinner, put the football away please." You started out by asking her politely as you manned the pasta in the pot on the hob, your girlfriend doing kick-ups by the fridge.

"I'm alright here, babe. I won't get in your way, swear. Just wanna be with you, and I am bored." That's kind of sweet, you guess.

Deciding that the pasta can survive without constant surveillance, you step away from it to unload the dishwasher but clearly Leah doesn't agree with that.

"Nah, forget that, I'll do it later. Come here, one versus one." She grins, quickly flicking the ball between each foot.

"And why would I do that as someone who doesn't even know which foot to use?" You raise an eyebrow and stand across from her with your hands on your hips.

"Bit of fun, babe, lighten up. Let's do a game of panna." She teases, passing the ball to you. "You first."

"What is panna?" You frown, confused.

"Just try to nutmeg me." Leah rolls her eyes, though she knows your knowledge of football lacks compared to her as someone who lives and breathes the sport and has done all her life.

You squint your eyes sceptically at her, before slowly inching towards her and attempting to dribble the ball the way you've seen her do it probably a million times. However, as soon as you get close, she removes any gap between her feet and instead stands like a penguin.

"How am I supposed to nutmeg you when you stand like that?" You scoff, but she just smirks smugly at you and shrugs.

"No one likes a quitter."

"No one likes a stubborn girlfriend that forces her girlfriend to play a game that's impossible to win." You hit back, and a smile tugs at your lips as you see Leah suppress a laugh.

"Fine, let me go against you." She steals the ball from your feet in the blink of an eye, and now the cards are stacked impossibly against you.

"Right, 'cause this is totally fair."

You roll your eyes but nevertheless prepare to defend your pride against the decorated footballer that stands before you. This little stand off lasts all of two minutes as Leah performs as many standing tricks as she can - it's hard not to laugh because, despite the talent she's portraying, it just looks like the result of a button-spamming FIFA player.

Finally though, you gain the confidence to lunge at her to get the ball back, but Leah of course spots this immediately, and flip-flaps the ball straight between your legs.

"Panna! You just got your shit rocked, baby." She celebrates as if her performance wasn't as easy as stealing candy from a baby. You watch as she cheers quietly to herself under her breath and dances like a fool. If the world could see her now, you think.

Feeling slightly humbled, you go back to your place at the stove, finding comfort in your cooking skills at least.

...This oddly felt like you were playing into some kind of stereotype.

"Put the ball away now, please." You tell her once more, but as ever her ego takes no prisoners.

"Aw, is someone's ego hurt?" Leah pouts pitifully at you, her hands falling to your waist when she stands behind you. You weren't having it though, not when she had humiliated you purely for her own ego.

"No, I just have many dangerous weapons in my arsenal here and I wouldn't want the leader of England to come to any harm." You return the patronising pout on her face, swatting away her hands and wagging the pasta ladle you had just pulled from the boiling pan in her face.

"Alright, message heard." She walks away with her hands surrendered.

For the next five minutes that the spaghetti spends boiling, you both exist civilly in the same area whilst doing different things. You're preparing for dinner as Leah is of course dilly-dallying with the football again. Each punt against the ball as she does kick-ups or ridiculous little tricks slowly grinds your gears, until she eventually begins occupying floor space in the kitchen that she obviously knows you'll use.

"Move, please, I need to drain this pasta." You say initially, a bit of bite to it but not as much as you easily could reach. However, she doesn't move, and instead gets in the way even more. "I have a pot full of boiling water here, move!"

You shoved past her where she was messing around with the ball near the sink, a shit-eating grin on her face which its only purpose is to infuriate you more. She does move out the way though, lifting the ball up into her arms with the foot, but she only steps so far away.

"What are we having?" She asked in an all too innocent voice, watching as you drained the pasta - the aggression you did this simple task with probably should have been a warning sign to her. But that had never stopped her before.

"Spaghetti, what does it look like?" You shake your head at her. "And you will eat it this time."

You were yet another unfortunate victim to Leah's limited and fussy palate.

"Not my fault you used a rank sauce last time. You better have gotten a new one." She grumbled like a picky toddler, starting her kick-ups again right in front of the next cupboard you need to get into.

"Put that fucking ball away before I stab a knife into it." You snap, pushing her out of the way with one hand and getting out the aforementioned new sauce. "See? Is this better for you, princess?"

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that, sweetheart." Leah smirks, referencing the sassy tone and mocking pet name you used for her as you shoved the jar into her face to prove a point.

"I'd like to see you try." You scoff, heading back over to the stove.

She falls suspiciously silent as you put the spaghetti and sauce into the pan. You try to pay no notice, watching out of your peripheral vision as she slowly makes her way back over with her hands behind her back.

"What are y-"

You're disrupted by her kicking the ball in between your legs, it clunking scarily loud against the glass door of the oven.

"Another one! Call me Ronal-fucking-dhino!" Leah laughs giddily, scampering away like a naughty child.

You took a deep breath, composing yourself so that you didn't chase after her with one of the multiple weapons within reach around you.

However, sticking true to your threat, you grabbed a knife from the draining board beside the sink and sunk it into the ball that had been the bane of your existence for the past however long it's been in Leah's possession. It wasn't a sentimental object, you wouldn't do that to her, thankfully it was just a ball she had picked up from the supermarket one day she had been determined to tag along as you did the grocery shop. The poor thing let out its final breath as the air puffed out of it, a sign you had won the battle. With a slightly manic grin, you went on making the rest of the meal as if nothing had happened.

Luckily you were able to cook the dinner without any further childish interruptions, though you did have half a mind to pour the whole shaker of salt onto her portion. But no, you can rise above this kind of behaviour. A household prank war against this woman-child could lead to an unfortunate break-up. Though you did just get an adrenaline rush from murdering a harmless football, so maybe it was already on.

"Leah, come here and sort your cheese out." You shout into the apartment, not a clue where she had gone off too.

Although, you forgot the scene she would walk into, only realising when a sharp gasp sounds through the room.

"What... the hell did you do?" Leah whispers in a dramatically heartbroken voice, kneeling to the ground and delicately picking up the punctured ball. You turned and rolled your eyes at the sight that met you, forever astonished at the theatrics this girl pulls off.

"Better a ball than your head." You mutter under your breath. "Sort your dinner out, I'm not being blamed for ruining it this time."

You took your bowl and walked past where she was still on the ground, nudging her shoulder with your knee as you went by to push her over. Okay, maybe you did have tendencies similar to hers.

Leah joins you on the couch a few moments later, an embarrassingly scarce amount of parmesan in her bowl as she slumps down next to you with a groan.

"I'm not watching this right now, I don't want to participate in a fucking reading lesson whilst I'm eating!" Leah complains at the choice of TV show you'd picked for this evening: Narcos.

"Tough, I cooked so I choose." You shrugged and pressed play, the characters immediately talking in thick and fast Spanish that, despite the English subtitles, is too much for your poor girlfriend to deal with right now.

"That's not fair, you always cook." She grumbles, stabbing her fork aggressively into her food. You pause the show at that statement, turning to look at her with a face that conveyed pure and unfiltered rage.

"Did you seriously just complain that I always cook?" You question in a frighteningly passive tone. Leah glances at you from the corner of her eye, not daring to turn away from her bowl. "Really, Leah?

She grimaces at the use of her name when you probe her for an answer. All day, she had been toeing a fine line, pressing all the wrong buttons, and pushing her luck with you. This time though, she'd really done it.

"Watch whatever you want, I'm not eating with you." You stand up from your seat on the sofa and storm away to the bedroom, leaving a glum and regretful Leah in the lounge who does in fact change the show on TV.

Was it an overreaction? In an hour, you'll probably think so. But right now you couldn't bear to look at the woman downstairs. You both eat, sad and alone, in your separate rooms to think over your actions.

In fact, no, you didn't overreact. You were entirely in your right to get angry over a throw-away statement that Leah had made just to win one back against you. Her immature attitude and competitive nature took over and she made an unnecessary comment about an action you not only enjoyed doing anyway, but enjoyed doing for her. So, whilst Leah thought back on how she should have behaved better, verbalised herself better, you were satisfied with your actions.

When there was a quiet knock at the bedroom door twenty minutes later as you lay in bed on your phone, bowl on the floor and meal happily consumed, you gave no answer. Leah came in anyway, a sheepish and guilty look on her face.

"May I come in?" She asks shyly, only her head in view.

"As long as you promise to not be a complete arsehole to me anymore." You grumble, not looking at her.

"I promise, love. I am sorry. I have things to make up for my utterly stupid behaviour." She says, and that does pique your interest.

You grunt in affirmation, and the door opens to reveal her holding a few items: your favourite candle from the lounge, a hot chocolate, your favourite cookies, and the oil you often used to massage Leah whenever her muscles were giving her some discomfort.

"Maybe I could give you a massage, babe? I am sorry. I appreciate all you do for me, I was just being an idiot before who didn't know when to stop. I love that you cook for me, and eating dinner with you at the end of a long day is one of my favourite things, genuinely. I'm really sorry for making that stupid comment, I am." Leah tells you softly, an air of desperation to her voice. Through all the times she loves to piss you off, nothing made her feel worse than when you truly got angry at her.

"You must really be sorry if you're letting me eat in bed." You comment quietly, referring to the pack of cookies in her arms. She smiles and nods, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

"I am sorry. Get crumbs everywhere if you want, get your revenge." She replies and a weight lifts off her chest when you giggle slightly. "I love you, truly, madly, deeply. I'm so grateful for you and everything you do."

You reluctantly smile up at her from where you lay, then roll your eyes and hold your arms out for her.

"Come here, you massive idiot." You mutter, watching amused as she rushes to put her things on the bedside table before diving on top of you. "You're a wanker, number six."

Leah laughs into the pillow at the reference, nodding her head in agreement. She turns her face into your neck and places a few light, apologetic kisses there.

"I am." She murmurs, sighing a little and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. "I wouldn't appreciate it if you started shouting that at my football games though."

"I don't appreciate you reciting a ninety's song in your apology though. Get some original material next time." You hit back, a smug grin on your face as she laughs again.

"I'll sing it for you if you want." Leah offers, voice slightly muffled by your neck as your body shakes with laughter.

"I think that would reverse all your efforts." You say, her humming in agreement. "Now, did you say something about a massage?"

The next morning, Leah believes all is forgiven from the previous night. But just to be sure, she hops out of bed since she's the first to wake up and decides to bring you a coffee in bed before you both were due to go out for breakfast with friends. It's a delight you welcome immediately, sighing contently when the hot mug is placed into your hands as you sit up against the headboard. Leah joins you in bed again, copying your position, and wraps an arm around you as well as kissing your forehead. She mumbles a few more words of apology into your ear as you drink, ensuring that you know how grateful she is for everything you do. You also welcome that with open arms, happy to hear her feelings towards you when she's not being an irritating little pest.

She watches you the whole time you get dressed for the day, and there's a soft smile on her face as she stood in the bathroom doorway whilst you put your earrings in, the finishing touch of your outfit. You mirror the smile she wears when she steps forward and wraps her arms around your waist, murmuring endless compliments into your ear that send shivers down your spine. It's a sickeningly sweet moment, it would rot any witnesses' teeth had they been there to see it, but it's perfect and it's the couple that you recognise rather than the bickering one from the previous night.

You exit the bathroom together, your fingers intertwined as Leah leads you down the stairs. Though, just as you're about to leave, you spot a smudge mark on your cheek from your mascara in the mirror by the door, so you stop to fix it. Leah, with the patience of a toddler, somehow finds yet another ball and it's one you can't stab this time since it's a Euros 2022 ball. Even though she has just done her hair, begging you to straighten it for her, she starts doing headers. And that's where the morning takes a turn for the worst.

When you'd finished fixing your makeup, you head to the downstairs bathroom to quickly wash your hands. Then you hear a panicked shout, followed by a loud bang, and lastly the sound of glass smashing. Instinctively, you rush out the room to see if Leah's okay, thinking the worst, but it seems that the only damage she has is to her ego. And, subsequently, to her relationship.

The sight that greets you fills you with more fury than you'd ever felt in your life. Your mirror, the antique one you had been adamant at buying when decorating the house, lay broken on the ground. The frame was cracked, it was surrounded by glass, and the ball laying next to it was very clearly the offending weapon. The culprit cowered in the corner of the hallway, looking at you and waiting for a reaction.

And boy did it come.

The walls of the house shook with the scale of your voice as Leah flinched like she was physically impacted by each punch that your words delivered. Nothing offensive or harmful was said of course, but your language was certainly colourful and impactful. Each word was spat with a lethal amount of venom, and Leah wasn't sure she would ever see the light of day again; living a life banished to her house, individually glueing each piece of the mirror back together as you endlessly lecture her. Eventually though, you did have to take a breath. Leah took one at the same time, though she was a shell of herself as you glared at her.

Composing yourself, you stepped over the mess and opened the front door before turning to Leah with an unnerving smile. She smiled anxiously back at you, and it took everything in you not to laugh at the nervous, apologetic look on her face. At least she knew she had messed up.

The next time you speak, it's like nothing had happened, and that fills Leah with more fear than she'd ever felt in her life. She knows she's in for it when you get back later.

"Come on, my love, we have a breakfast date to attend."

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