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hcneymooners · 4 days ago

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✸ TRITWWISIYTSTICS ⤷ chapter iv. you cannot touch her without [not] touching me.

read on ao3.

masterlist: here.

cw: discussions of death, discussion of grief, paige "special operations" bueckers folding in the face of azzi's tears, sexual & romantic tension.

notes: hello, my doves. i hope you enjoy this .in the face of the current news, i'm trying to escape more than ever. despite how easy it is to slip into american individualism, the brunt most likely will not be felt by us. so, if any of my middle eastern followers need support or an ear at this time, please feel free to message me. besides this, i would love to know anything you would like to tell me about this chapter. my inbox is always open. i love you.

there was a sudden shift, as if paige had always known some things, but her body finally had obtained the permission to begin to understand them. she knew what it felt like to become attached, and every moment she spent swaddled in bed with azzi increased the drone of the emotion.

life was easy behind the canopy. when the curtains were closed, there was only darkness and the near body heat of the other woman. then the sun flooded in, and life was hard again, but it was made bearable by the swan curve of azzi’s neck as she slept opposite paige.

she had known azzi was beautiful, but something fully convinced her in the days following the incident with kit. paige would lie curled in a crescent moon, her long fingers raising to pull back the canopy so that the sun could spill onto the slackened part of azzi’s full lips. her curls, dark and usually tucked away behind a faded silk scarf, cascaded in pieces as the knot began to loosen.

paige sometimes gave in, letting her hand float over azzi like a phantom as she tucked the curls back in. she wondered if azzi knew that she touched her, if she felt paige’s fingertips brush across her forehead as she adjusted the smallest things to make her doubly comfortable. her brow would twitch, her brows thick and feathered, and paige would be cursed with shame.

was her desire leaking out of her? was it unappealing how lonely she was?

was it obvious how right azzi’s weight felt along her body when they forgot themselves and rolled together?

then one morning, it was different. paige had woken before the sun, as was her habit, and was carefully lifting a strand of hair that had fallen across azzi's cheek when azzi's eyes opened. not the slow flutter of gradual waking, but the immediate alertness of someone pulled from sleep by touch.

they stared at each other in the pre-dawn darkness, paige's fingers still suspended between them, the curl wound around her index finger like remnants of a crime—a heist maybe. an emotional draw. azzi’s eyes were almost golden, unnaturally seeing as the sky bled pink and lilac around them.

“good morning,” azzi whispered, her voice rough with sleep.

paige's hand dropped as if burned. “sorry. i was just��”

“you’re alright, paige,” azzi's eyes were soft, unaccusing. “it's okay.”

paige felt something give inside of her at the reassurance, her shoulders relaxing and her body falling further into the sheets. the silence stretched between them, heavy with things neither could name. then azzi shifted, trying to push herself up, and her face contorted with pain.

“oh,” she breathed, her hand flying to the back of her neck. paige thought that for a moment, she felt a twinge underneath her own skin. “i must have slept wrong.”

paige was upright immediately, the careful distance she'd been maintaining forgotten. “what hurts?”

“mmm. my neck, my shoulder.” azzi's voice was tight, her face shuttered into a chapel-worthy image of suffering. she tried to turn her head and winced. “i can barely move it.”

paige's hands hovered over her, wanting to help but afraid to touch without express permission. after weeks of phantom caresses, the idea of touching azzi with purpose, with her consent, felt entirely too much. it would undo her to have her hands upon her, to work the pain free and release her into something far more gentle.

“can i—” paige started, then stopped. azzi's eyes found hers in the dim light.

“i need to bathe,” azzi said quietly. “but i don't think i can reach my back like this. my arms won't—” she demonstrated, trying to lift her arm behind her head, and her breath hissed between her teeth.

the request hung in the air between them, simple and impossible.

“okay,” paige said, her voice steadier than she felt. “um, yeah. i can help."

they moved slowly in the dawn, paige's hand ghosting along azzi's lower back as she helped her sit up, then stand. azzi's nightgown clung to the curves of her body, and paige forced herself to look away, to focus on the mechanics of movement rather than the way the fabric revealed the line of azzi's spine.

the curve called to mind the mountains, the bend of them under snow and rain,

the bathroom was small, cramped, and paige found it an odd echo as she fit azzi into the same tub she’d been in on the night she arrived. paige turned on the taps, testing the temperature with her wrist while azzi stood behind her, silent and watchful.

“it'll take a few minutes to fill,” paige said, not turning around. she could feel azzi's presence like heat against her back.

“paige, could you look at me? please?”

she turned. azzi was looking at her with an expression she couldn't decipher, but wanted more than anything to understand. it was vulnerable and determined, a collision of conflict.

“this doesn't have to be strange,” azzi said softly. “we're adults. i'm hurt, and you're helping me. that's all.”

but even as she said it, they both knew it wasn't true. nothing between them had been simple since that first night when paige had appeared in her yard like an answer to a question azzi hadn't known she’d posed. they answered to one another, acting as solutions to the emptiness they both had felt.

“right,” paige said, her voice barely above a whisper. “just helping.”

the water continued to run, filling the silence between them with something that sounded near absolution. azzi smiled fondly, stepping forward and tugging idly at a blonde lock of hair before reaching down and dragging her shift up to her hips.

paige was unable to help her flush. there was something about a woman, about one having the same body as you, so full and tender. both reachable and unreachable, working in the same ways but also different. the soft dip of azzi’s hip was revealed, and paige thought of getting her teeth around the bone.

instead, she turned away and focused on rolling her hair into a bun, the circle loose and golden like a man-made halo.

after the bath, paige was anxious to provide further assistance. azzi allowed her to help with breakfast.

the world came into flaky gray, the dawn the only color it seemed they would see for the time being. still, the outlook was beautiful. azzi’s garden was flourishing, despite the cooler weather, and paige was surprised to see new sprouts. beyond the lush green and dark dirt were packs of deer, made wild by time and the return of the earth to how she used to be. gnarled antlers curled from the diamond skulls of some, while others only had the bushy ends of their ears and legs longer than what paige was used to.

she watched as azzi opened the front door, stepping out momentarily to toss a homemade mix to feed them. she had changed into a loose, white button-down over green cotton pants, and her hair was drawn into a soft loop at the apex of her head. once she was back inside, they began to focus on feeding themselves.

breakfast was nothing exceptional, but paige felt it was as you tended to when you made something with your hands. it ways it was luxurious: fans of smoked salmon, blushed and thin, and slightly charred slices of flatbread. next to it was a dollop of strawberry preserves—handmade, azzi told her, her eyes darkening with the grief of memory—and a small thimble of blueberries.

they worked mostly in silence, azzi occasionally providing guidance and course-correction to paige when she got too zealous. eventually, the space was filled, azzi interrupting it with the smooth slide of her voice. paige watched the tremble of her throat as she spoke, the line brown and strong and falling in as she took a breath.

“you want to ask me something. i can feel it.”

paige urged her skin not to transform into the peony pink of embarrassment, her head ducking as she focused on her task.

“sorry.”

“i didn’t say that it bothered me.” azzi set down her knife, turned, and placed her palm over the back of paige’s hand. she plucked a string of salmon skin from it. “ask.”

paige stopped then, turning so that she could gaze directly at azzi with an open curiosity.

“what happened to inês?”

the effect was immediate. azzi had picked up the knife in between the space where the question had been asked and her giving permission, and so the blade slipped, slashing her open and ugly, a ragged red line blooming across the extension of her finger. her mouth opened in a near soundless circle of anguish, but paige was the one who audibly cursed.

“shit. are you okay?”

“mmm,” azzi hummed, her finger now between her lips. she sucked until the bloodflow ceased, then released the flesh and reached for a towel to wrap around it. she spoke as she tended to herself, her voice already gone raw with aged grief.

“inês was my sister. not by blood, but she was the only person i had left. we’d been close before the collapse, brought together by living in the same gilded life. i had a terrible fear of losing her even before…this. i knew she was the only one who truly knew me; she was every single good thing. if she was gone, then i was left with something puckered and scabbed, a wound i could only find rot in.”

azzi set down the towel, let it fall open to reveal the split of her skin.

“everyone told me it was irrational to fear things like that. to have such avid anticipatory grief of losing your loved ones when they were living right beside you: breathing, drinking, eating. but then she did die, and the loss was enormous, just as i feared it would be. it felt like a bodily collapse to walk into this house and find her on the floor.

“and she’s everywhere. she’s inside me, inside of me, around me. even when every leaf around me is as dead as any corpse, i still smell jasmine. the thought of her is cloying. i can hardly breathe. that, i learned, is grief.”

paige felt helpless as she watched azzi go elsewhere, her eyes growing glassy in the weak light.

“after my parents died, it was only us. in some ways, i died first, and she kept hauling my body around, refusing to allow me to deteriorate. we found this cabin, fixed it up. she wanted to be an engineer, but she didn’t have the chance to finish. this was her restitution for her unfinished dreams.

“she made me garden, made me cook. she held me when i couldn’t repress the deaths of my family any longer and kept holding me after. she was younger than i was, so i fell into mothering her despite her self-sufficiency. she allowed it. most of our friendship was her allowing me different things, and me attempting to make up for my selfishness.”

“azzi—”

azzi held up a hand.

“i was different then. spoiled, but never rotten.” she paused, seemed to brace herself. “she got sick. i don’t know how she contracted it, but she was infected by something viral, and it ate away at her. i learned that it was possible for a viral infection to predispose you to a secondary fungal infection, leading to a coinfection. it occurs because viral infections can weaken the immune system, making the body more vulnerable to fungal pathogens. she was being destroyed cyclically.

“the commune wasn’t what it is now, and medically, i wasn’t either. there was a point where her skin was just…gone. i could see the bone, i could see the muscle. she was so open, and i wanted there to be a way for me to crawl into her and drag the disease all out.”

paige could feel her horror gathering at the base of her throat, mimicking the same slide that azzi’s tears were performing down the slant of her face. paige watched as her sadness slid down and straight off of her.

“i convinced her to let me go for a day, maximum, to try to find someone who could help. it ended up being two. there was a storm, and a branch fell, struck me. i was in the woods just beyond our property, knocked out cold. when i came to, i just knew. i could feel it. i was one less person than i was before.

“still, i ran. i ran so quickly that i thought my heart would burst. i found her halfway out of the cabin. she’d been trying to find me. her hand was outstretched. she’d crawled, blood and bone, to try to be where i was. and i was nowhere to be found.”

“azzi, that is in no way your fault.”

azzi turned then, her face flush with emotion. she was trembling bodily, her eyes wide with memory and self-loathing.

“yes, it was, paige. i never should’ve left. i never should’ve left her here. what did i think i would find? i could’ve—”

“could’ve what? stayed and watched her rot without trying to find another option?” paige had forgotten herself, had slid back into the pointed delivery she used when squad members were too grief-stricken to get back up.

she saw the blow land, azzi stumbling backward and catching herself on the counter’s edge. paige stepped toward her, stopped when she flinched.

“fuck. that’s not—fuck. azzi, ‘m sorry. i didn’t mean to say that.”

azzi’s face crumpled. paige was reminded that they truly didn’t know each other. “you did.”

“no,” paige refuted, pressing a hand over her mouth for a second. “no, i didn’t. i meant that you tried, azzi. someone you loved was dying, and you went out into the world and tried to find someone who could keep them alive.”

azzi gazed at her, eyes half-lidded with devastation. paige stepped closer.

“sweetheart, you could’ve done nothing. you could’ve—you could’ve sat there and watched her fade with a shrug. some people do that shit, and then still have the nerve to feel guilt. they deserve it. you don’t.”

“you don’t know me,” azzi said, her voice swelling with a sob.

“i know people just like you, azzi. i’ve seen it all, i promise. inês loved you so much, and i don’t have to know her to understand that. do you think she’d accept your version of the story?”

azzi had no answer, and paige watched her face flood with numerous emotions as she tried to think of one. eventually, she let her head fall as she wiped underneath her nose. “i’d like to finish.”

paige nodded. “okay.”

“i had to burn her. i tidied up her ashes, put some in her jewelry box after i emptied it. i’d spend days rolling around in her bed, the sheets unwashed, as i tried to catch whatever it was that had taken her from me. i wanted to go to her so badly; i would’ve licked off the same spoon if that meant i could’ve been diseased in the same way. i was so irrational in the initial aftermath. i couldn’t even bathe.”

azzi retreated into herself, shoulders curving as if ashamed.

“then one day…i don’t know. i just got up. i left her in that box on the dresser in her room and took off the sheets. i burned them too. then i came back, locked her door, and never looked back. i left her in there because i was unable to see any part of her without wanting to slit my own throat.”

she looked at paige then. “i found that life had moved on. i didn’t, but i kept myself alive just enough because i knew it would’ve mattered to her. it was november, winter was coming, and i kept thinking of my mother. i wasn’t chasing death, but i wouldn’t mind if she and i found ourselves in the same place. it was easier to continue when there was no goal, no threshold to cross. just the truth of it.”

paige couldn't stand it anymore. the careful distance she'd been maintaining, the way azzi held herself like a criminal, shame twisting her limbs into limp flesh. it all crumbled as she stepped forward and pulled azzi against her chest. azzi went rigid for a heartbeat, as if she'd forgotten what it felt like to be held, and then she collapsed.

the sob that tore from her throat was guttural, years of carefully contained misery finally finding its exit. paige felt it reverberate through her own ribs, a small earthquake, as azzi's hands clutched at the fabric of her shirt, holding on as if paige might disappear too. her tears soaked through the cotton, warm and endless, and paige found herself rocking them both slightly, the way you might comfort a child waking from the throes of a nightmare.

“i’ve got you,” paige murmured into the crown of azzi's head, her voice thick and almost unfamiliar. “i've got you, sweetheart.”

azzi cried until she had nothing left, her body shaking with the force of it, and paige held her through all of it. she thought of drew, of lauren, of all the people she'd never been able to hold as they left her. but azzi was here, solid and breathing in her arms, and that had to be enough.

when the storm finally passed, azzi pulled back slowly, her face blotchy and swollen but somehow lighter. she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, looking almost embarrassed by the display.

“i'm sorry,” she whispered.

“don't,” paige said firmly, cupping azzi's face with gentle hands. “you don't have to apologize for this.”

they stood there for a moment longer, breathing each other in, before the ordinary world called them back. they were almost nose to nose. this close, paige could see every smile line beginning to rise along azzi’s face. she wanted to emphasize them, to make her happy again. the thought almost felled her.

azzi's stomach gave a soft rumble, and they both looked toward the abandoned breakfast preparations with something like relief.

“we should finish,” azzi said, her voice hoarse but steadier now.

“yeah,” paige agreed, reluctantly letting her hands fall away. they hovered above azzi’s hips, unsure of their purpose.“we should.”

they moved around each other carefully in the kitchen, the air between them changed, but not uncomfortable. azzi wrapped her cut finger properly while paige salvaged what they could of the salmon and bread.

“you mentioned you kept thinking of your mother. like her…?”

“death?” azzi provided. “no, it was something else. something she used to say.”

paige hummed in acknowledgement, but didn’t push. azzi conceded anyway.

“winter always trembles into spring. that’s what my mother would tell me,” azzi said quietly. “transition was her favorite. everything begins to melt, and the world is filled with weeping. everything weeps and trembles and bleeds. the world weeps and trembles itself straight into joy.”

“we’re going into winter, aren’t we?”

“yes,” azzi said, “but the reminder is kind.”

paige was silent beside her, hands methodically tucking sachets of spices into the slit body of the other salmon they’d pulled from the freezer. then she spoke, sudden and breathless by her standards, as if she was afraid the words would flee her.

“i would like to see you tremble,” she told azzi, “in the same way. straight into joy.”

azzi didn’t look at her, but her hands shook. she could hear the promise in paige's voice. she knew paige would be just as precise in preparing her body as she was in preparing their meal.

i will not weep, azzi thought to herself, because i will not melt.

her desire was never frozen. regularly, it threatened to strangle her.

paige turned to her, took her chin with a hand smelling of the sea, and tipped her face upward as she used her other hand to wipe something from the undercarriage of azzi’s lip. there had still been a drop of blood from where she’d sucked at her cut.

azzi watched, pupils widening as if underneath the thumb of a drug, as paige seemed to consider the streak of red, almost as if to swallow it.

she found herself disappointed when she washed it off.

#mine ; 🐎.#pazzi dystopia au.#pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #dallas wings #uconn wbb #uconn huskies

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hcneymooners · 5 days ago

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i love you so much!

https://www.tumblr.com/averyisnotpresent/786915626493034496/shaking-hands-still-when-held-pazzi-au

this reminds me a lot of @hcneymooners post-collapse au :)

a lot of my inspiration for this fic comes from hers! she's such a gorgeous writer.

#cutie patootie #i love my moots

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hcneymooners · 5 days ago

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just so you guys know I will not be able to talk or think about anything other than this phone case for the next 3-576 business days

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hcneymooners · 6 days ago

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i love food imagery in works so much. this is so so stunning and warm.

SLOW SIMMER - THREE

dallas!paige x privatechef!azzi

note: i love tlou2 sm like i can’t stop playing lol

anyways here you go!

———

paige was still getting used to azzi living in her home. it wasn’t the worst thing ever—obviously, because paige had been tearing up every meal since azzi got there—but it still felt… different having someone else in her space. not a bad different. just… different.

azzi wasn’t loud. something paige would forever be grateful for. the chef mostly kept to herself unless she wanted to socialize, and paige respected that.

which is exactly why, when dijonai, maddy, lyss, and arike said they wanted to meet “the chef,” paige hesitated. her teammates weren’t exactly… subtle. she didn’t want to overwhelm azzi or scare her off before she really got comfortable.

so yeah, she was definitely gonna talk to azzi about it first.

azzi was currently getting ready to go to the store, wanting to restock before anything got too empty. she had on something simple—black baggy jeans with a white top. the weather was nice today.

her goddess braids were pulled back into a low ponytail, a few soft curls framing her face. she looked cute.

she slipped on her crocs, grabbed her keys, and made her way to the door. when she stepped out, she saw paige on the couch, eyes glued to the tv—probably watching the white lotus again.

paige turned her head at the sound of azzi’s footsteps and smiled softly when she saw her. “heading to the store?”

azzi gave a nod. “yeah, gonna restock early. you doing anything later?”

paige shook her head. they had an early practice this morning, so the rest of her day was wide open. “nah, i’m free.”

“i don’t know how long i’ll be, but i’ll text you when i’m on my way back,” azzi said, letting out a small laugh as she scratched at her neck. “might need help though.”

paige sat up a little straighter. “no, yeah—of course. just let me know when.”

azzi nodded once more, hand on the doorknob. “see you later.”

“bye, fudd,” paige said, her voice soft.

the door clicked shut behind her.

paige leaned her head back against the couch, letting out a soft breath through her nose. the apartment was quiet again, but not in a bad way. she actually liked the new routine—waking up to the smell of something good in the kitchen, running into azzi in passing, sharing random little conversations between meals and naps.

it was weird. but it was also kinda… nice.

meanwhile, azzi made her way through the store with practiced ease. she was focused, going aisle by aisle, checking her notes app and glancing at prices. she wasn’t just cooking for herself anymore—this was paige bueckers, and azzi wasn’t about to mess anything up.

as she turned into the produce section, reaching for a bunch of cilantro, she heard a small gasp behind her.

“oh my god. allie.”

“no way. is that—?”

azzi turned slightly, already catching the familiar glimmer of recognition in both of their eyes.

“you’re azzi fudd, right?” one of the girls asked, her voice a little too loud for how quiet the store was. azzi smiled softly, nodding.

“yeah, that’s me.”

“we love your cooking account. like, seriously. that chicken parmesan you posted a while back? we tried to make it and failed miserably,” the other girl—caroline—gushed. allie just nodded beside her, clearly starstruck.

azzi laughed, “thank you, that’s sweet. and hey, cooking’s like hooping. takes practice.”

the two fans exchanged glances. “can we get a picture?”azzi didn’t like saying no to people who showed her support so she immediately nodded her head. “Of course, come on,”

they took the pictures and looked at the girl. “i’m guessing we’re gonna be seeing you a lot more?” the brunette asked. azzi chuckled before nodding her head. “yeah, maybe.”

they offered to bag her groceries when she checked out, which made her chuckle. “you don’t have to do that,” she said, but they insisted.

“it was a pleasure to meet you, azzi. we’ll see you soon?” they asked hopefully. azzi laughed softly before turning to her car. “see you ladies soon!” she called over her shoulder.

she could hear them giggling when she reached her car, making her heart warm.

by the time she made it, her phone buzzed.

paige

you good?

azzi smiled, brushing a curl from her forehead.

azzi

yeah, almost done

headed back now

paige

cool

i’m up if you need help

azzi stared at the screen for a second longer, heart doing a little flip. she didn’t expect her to check in like that, but it felt… sweet.

azzi

i’ll be home in 10

have those arms ready

paige

lol bet

azzi slid into the driver’s seat, still feeling the leftover warmth from the fan interaction. she pulled out of the parking lot and glanced up at the sky, soft blue and cloudless.

she still couldn’t believe it sometimes.

living in paige bueckers’ house.

cooking for her.

getting texted by her.

yeah… she really was starting to like it here.

azzi pulled into the driveway with the music low, humming along to the track playing through the speakers. the bags in her trunk weren’t too heavy, but she still appreciated the idea of help—especially when it came from someone who actually offered, not out of obligation.

as she opened the front door with her hip, balancing one bag on her forearm and another in her hand, she was met with the familiar smell of a candle paige must’ve lit. sandalwood and something warm.

“i’m back,” she called out, her voice carrying through the quiet apartment.

paige emerged from around the corner, hair pulled up in a bun now, wearing a black compression shirt and shorts. her feet were bare with slides and her energy was relaxed.

“perfect timing.” she walked over and immediately took the heavier bags from azzi’s arm, brushing past her gently. “you didn’t even text me,” she added, glancing over her shoulder.

“i was about to,” azzi smirked. “but then i figured i’d just surprise you.”

“you really out here trusting me to not be napping.”

“yeah well… if you were, i would’ve woke you up,” she said with a playful shrug.

they moved together in quiet rhythm, unloading bags and putting things away. azzi pointed out a couple new ingredients she picked up to experiment with, paige nodded along, eyes half-focused but still listening.

azzi sighed, the two of them finished stocking up the kitchen. “okay, go do something while i figure out what we’re gonna eat.” she told the woman.

paige just smiled before heading towards her room. “what would i do without you, fudd?”

“you’d probably still be eating take out.”

paige laughed.

after a couple hours, she found azzi in the kitchen, barefoot, hair pulled back, quietly focused on chopping up something that smelled incredible. garlic, maybe butter, a little spice—paige wasn’t sure, but it was working. her mouth watered on instinct.

“hey,” paige said casually as she leaned against the counter.

azzi looked up, giving her a soft smile. “hey.”

paige rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly realizing this was the first time she was actually nervous to talk to someone in her own house. “so… my teammates kind of want to meet you.”

azzi paused her chopping. “oh?”

“yeah,” paige exhaled, watching her reaction. “they’ve been bugging me since the first day i mentioned you were a chef. they’re curious.”

azzi tilted her head, lips twitching with a barely-there grin. “and by curious you mean hungry.”

“basically.” paige laughed. “but also nosy. they’ll want to ask a million questions. get all up in your space. it’s not… quiet.”

azzi leaned back on her heels, wiping her hands on a towel. “you worried i’ll run?”

paige shrugged, smirking a little. “i’m not saying i wouldn’t be sad if you did.”

azzi chuckled. “i’m not going anywhere, bueckers.”

paige tried not to look too pleased at that. “so… is it cool if they come over tomorrow night?”

“sure,” azzi said with a nod, turning back to the cutting board. “but if they’re gonna be that loud, they better eat every last bite.”

paige grinned. “deal.”

paige made her way to her room. she immediately texted the group chat back.

fly 🪽 fly

dijonai

so… what’d she say?

paige

she said she’d love to meet y’all.

i’m begging—please don’t scare her away.

maddy

tell that to nai and lyss.

you know they be doing too much sometimes.

lyss

oh please.

i’m a really chill person.

paige

try again.

lyss

whatever.

arike

i know what and what not to do when i’m first meeting someone.

trust me.

paige

whatever y’all say.

just be here

and please dress nice

arike

damn p.

safe to say you want us to impress your girl.

paige

she’s not my girl.

dijonai

not yet, that is.

it’s okay, you’ll realize it soon.

paige

bro.

i promise i’ll tell her y’all bailed.

maddy

ALRIGHT chill 💀

paige was chuckling at her phone, fingers still scrolling through the chaos in the groupchat. she sometimes hated her teammates—but mostly, she loved them. they were ridiculous, sure, but they were hers.

she reread arike’s message about “impressing her girl” and rolled her eyes, even though her lips tugged into a smile. azzi wasn’t her girl. not in the way they were all hinting at. and yet… there was something there, something warm and quiet that settled in her chest when she thought about her.

the way azzi hummed while she cooked. how she always asked if paige had eaten before thinking of herself. how she smelled like she belonged—like vanilla and coconut and the soft comfort of home.

paige set her phone down, leaning back into the couch with a soft sigh. her team was relentless. but maybe, just maybe, they weren’t that far off.

“paige! food’s ready!”

the call pulled her from her thoughts like a tether. she sat up quickly, glancing once at her phone before tossing it onto the cushion beside her. as much as her team liked to tease, they weren’t wrong about one thing—azzi’s food was something to look forward to. every time.

she stood, stretching briefly before heading toward the kitchen. the closer she got, the stronger the scent hit her—something savory, warm, and laced with herbs she couldn’t name but already craved.

“what’d you make this time?” she asked as she rounded the corner.

azzi was standing by the stove, apron tied around her waist, a soft smile on her face. “you’ll see. just sit down.”

paige raised a brow. “you hiding it?”

“i’m presenting it.” azzi corrected with a playful roll of her eyes. “you ever let a chef have their moment?”

paige held up her hands in surrender, grinning. “alright, alright. i’ll wait.”

but not without staring just a second too long. not at the plate—at her.

azzi felt it too—paige’s stare lingered a beat longer than usual, and while she didn’t look up right away, she definitely noticed. her fingers were careful as she plated the food, placing everything just how she liked it. she worked in silence, the kind that didn’t feel awkward. it felt full. warm.

“okay,” she finally said, sliding the plate in front of paige. “chicken shawarma with lemon rice, garlic roasted carrots, and a little cucumber-yogurt salad on the side. fresh naan too, because… why not?”

paige blinked down at the plate. “azzi. what the hell.”

“what?” azzi bit her bottom lip, holding back a smile. “too much?”

“no,” paige muttered, picking up her fork. “you’re trying to ruin takeout for me forever, huh?”

azzi finally let the smile come through. “that’s kind of the job.”

they both laughed softly, and paige took her first bite. her eyes closed dramatically.

“i’m serious,” she said after a pause. “you’re dangerous.”

azzi shrugged, wiping her hands on her apron. “you already knew that.”

paige opened one eye, smirking. “no, i didn’t. but i’m learning.”

paige set her fork down for a second, resting her elbow on the counter and letting her chin fall into her hand. “and i’m guessing there’s a lot more i don’t know yet.”

azzi leaned back slightly, arms folding as she smiled—this slow, subtle thing that made paige’s chest feel warm. “probably,” she said. “but i’m not that complicated.”

“you sure about that?”

azzi tilted her head, “are you?”

paige let out a soft laugh, a short exhale through her nose. “no,” she admitted. “not even a little.”

“then i guess we’re even,” azzi murmured, voice quiet but steady. she turned to grab her own plate and joined paige at the counter.

it was quiet again—but this time it felt intentional, like they were both letting the moment settle.

comfortable. warm. just enough to make azzi wonder what else paige might want to learn.

then—

azzi remembered.

jon’s text.

“hey, my brothers are like huge fans. they wanted a picture… if that’s okay?”

paige nodded her head quickly, “of course.”

paige straightened up in her seat a little, wiping her mouth with the napkin even though there was barely anything there. “how do you wanna do it? you want me to come over there?”

azzi shook her head, already pulling her phone out and walking around the counter to stand behind paige. “no, you stay. this’ll be quick.”

she opened her camera app and flipped to the front-facing lens, angling it just enough to catch them both. paige leaned in slightly, a relaxed smile tugging at her lips. azzi snapped the picture, then two more just in case, paige’s smile growing wider with each one.

“got it,” azzi grinned, scrolling through them quickly before sending one to the group chat with her brothers.

azzi

boom

y’all better not make this weird

jon

😭😭😭 YO

jose

that’s crazy. actual legends only.

tim

tell her we said thank you!

and also ask her if she hoop too 👀

azzi rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.

“they’re happy,” she muttered, locking her phone.

“i gathered,” paige chuckled. “do you hoop too?”

azzi looked at her with a smirk. “no. i just feed the ones who do.”

paige raised a brow, clearly amused. “lucky us.”

the next morning started slower than the last. sunlight spilled through the apartment windows, painting warm stripes across the hardwood floor.

paige was still in her room, probably just waking up, and azzi was already in the kitchen. this time, she moved a little slower, humming something under her breath as she sliced strawberries and placed them into a bowl.

she wasn’t rushing to cook — today felt lighter. easier. she made some toast, scrambled eggs, and those crispy-edged pancakes again because… why not?

she’d just finished plating everything when soft footsteps echoed down the hall. azzi didn’t turn — she already knew who it was.

“god, i don’t think i’ll ever get used to the kitchen smelling like this,” paige said as she sat down.

azzi chuckled, plating the food and handing it to her. “get used to it, bueckers. it’s not changing anytime soon.”

paige grinned, popping a piece of egg into her mouth. azzi was already tidying up, starting on the dishes right away.

“should i wear something fancy for tonight or…?” azzi asked curiously, glancing over her shoulder. she took first impressions seriously, but she didn’t want to go overboard either.

paige sipped her orange juice before answering. “you can wear whatever you feel comfortable in. i told them to wear something nice, though.”

azzi nodded, making a mental note. she probably wasn’t going for a dress, but a clean, put-together outfit should do the trick.

“did they want anything specific, or what?”

paige finished up her breakfast, her tongue gliding over her lips. “surprise us. they’ll like whatever.”

azzi smiled, a little spark of excitement in her eyes. “okay, challenge accepted.” she started clearing the counter, already running ideas through her mind.

paige watched her for a moment, feeling a warmth she couldn’t quite explain. maybe it was the way azzi took pride in even the smallest things. or maybe it was just the quiet comfort of having someone like her around.

“you know,” paige said, her voice softening, “i’m glad you’re here.”

azzi paused, looking up with a small smile. “me too.”

paige just looked a bit longer before standing. “thank you for breakfast. i’m gonna go shower.”

azzi nodded as she washed her hands. “i’m gonna go shower too. you’re welcome, by the way.”

paige smiled, making her way toward her room. “you’re a blessing, fudd!” she called over her shoulder.

azzi chuckled softly, shaking her head to herself. the quiet moments like these made everything feel a little more like home.

“i’m excited to meet her!” maddy beamed as she sat in the passenger seat, her legs criss-crossed while dijonai drove and lyss lounged in the backseat, scrolling through her phone.

“don’t scare her off,” dijonai warned, glancing over with a smirk. “paige actually likes this one.”

“likes her?” lyss repeated, eyes flicking up. “i thought she was just her chef.”

“exactly,” dijonai said with a pointed look through the rearview mirror. “and paige don’t just like anyone being in her house.”

maddy laughed, kicking her feet a little. “well now i’m even more excited.”

“you just want free food,” lyss muttered.

maddy turned and grinned. “yeah… and to meet the girl who somehow got paige to act like a softie.”

paige was currently setting up her playstation in the front room, knowing arike and lyss would definitely want to play with her the moment they walked in. she had already cleared off the coffee table, made sure the controllers were charged, and even tossed a few extra pillows on the couch just in case they stayed longer than expected.

she glanced at the time—still a little early—but she liked being ready. and if she was being honest, having everything in place also kept her from overthinking.

she tried not to admit it out loud, but she really wanted the night to go well. for azzi’s sake. and… maybe for hers, too.

azzi came out her room with an outfit she thought was good. tongue tied tinted flared jeans with a black tube top that shaped her body perfectly. she put her braids in a half up half down style while still keeping it out of her face.

she did a bit a make up before stepping out of the room. “paige, is this okay?”

paige turned around and froze, the hdmi cord in her hand completely forgotten. her eyes dragged slowly from azzi’s jeans to the way the tube top hugged her figure, then up to the soft, confident look on her face.

“uh…” paige blinked, almost forgetting how to speak. “yeah. yeah, that’s definitely… okay.”

azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “you sure?”

paige coughed and nodded, setting the cord down. “positive. they’re gonna lose their minds.”

azzi smiled, walking further into the room. “not too much, though. i don’t wanna give your friends a heart attack before dinner.”

paige smirked. “well, no promises when dijonai sees you. she has no filter.”

“great,” azzi said, tugging lightly at her top and glancing at the setup. “you almost done?”

“almost.” paige cleared her throat and turned back around, cheeks still a little pink. “but now i gotta keep them from embarrassing me.”

azzi grinned, settling on the couch. “that’s not my job. i just cook.”

“you say that now,” paige muttered, plugging in the last wire, “but i got a feeling they’re gonna like you even more than your food.”

azzi smiled quietly to herself, not denying it.

their conversation was cut short when loud knocking echoed through the apartment, followed by overlapping voices and laughter right outside the door.

“that’s them,” paige muttered, already making her way over.

azzi stood, brushing her hands over her jeans and taking a quiet breath to center herself.

as soon as paige opened the door, chaos poured in—dijonai was the first one through, talking mid-sentence with a grin on her face, followed by maddy, arike, and lyss, all talking over each other.

“damn, paige, you didn’t tell us your place looked like this,” arike said, stepping in and looking around.

“arike, you’re hella late.” dijonai spoke.

“where’s the chef? we came for the food!” lyss teased, scanning the room dramatically.

azzi offered a small wave, standing by the couch. “hi. that would be me.”

they all turned at once, and for a second, no one said anything.

then—

“ohhh, okayyy, paige,” dijonai said, smirking.

“this who’s been feeding you?” maddy asked, already grinning. “yeah, we see the vision.”

paige groaned. “y’all—please.”

azzi just laughed, the nerves slowly fading under the sound of their teasing. they were loud, sure—but it felt more like energy than chaos. and she could work with that.

“we’re just saying, girl, you are beautiful,” maddy said, plopping down at the island with a wide smile. dijonai slid into the seat beside her, nodding in full agreement while the others lingered nearby, still checking out the space.

azzi blushed, ducking her head for a second before meeting their eyes again. “thank you. you’re all very beautiful too!”

“don’t gas us,” arike grinned, crossing her arms. “we came here for food, not compliments—though we’ll take both.”

“speak for yourself,” lyss said, eyeing the kitchen like it was a five-star restaurant. “i’ve heard too much about your cooking, i’m ready to be converted.”

paige leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching the exchange with a soft smile. they weren’t scaring azzi off—if anything, she was handling them with ease.

azzi looked around at the girls, her nerves gone. “well, y’all are in luck. i made a few things already. appetizers first?”

“you’re a queen,” dijonai nodded, already sitting up straighter.

paige raised an eyebrow, nudging her with a smirk. “what happened to manners?”

dijonai grinned. “please, chef fudd. feed the people.”

azzi laughed, already turning to grab the plates. the room buzzed around her, light and full of warmth. she could get used to this.

azzi set a few plates on the island—mini crab cakes with a spicy aioli, baked mac and cheese bites, and fresh caprese skewers. everything looked golden, colorful, and just the right amount of fancy without trying too hard.

“oh, she’s not playing,” lyss muttered under her breath, already reaching for a skewer.

“hold on, hold on,” maddy said, pulling out her phone. “this is too pretty not to post.”

“not you trying to soft launch azzi’s food before even tasting it,” paige teased from the other side of the island.

“girl, this food soft launching itself,” dijonai said with a mouthful of mac and cheese bite. “azzi, you tryna marry someone, or…?”

azzi turned, feigning confusion. “what?”

“you cooking like you tryna wife somebody up,” arike added. “this ain’t normal behavior.”

azzi laughed, cheeks warm again. “well, it’s just what i do.”

“nah,” lyss said, shaking her head after biting into a crab cake. “this is talent. dangerous talent.”

paige caught azzi’s eyes from across the island, a smile tugging at her lips. azzi didn’t say anything—she just offered a small shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. but the way everyone was looking at her said otherwise.

and as the group kept eating, talking, and laughing, paige felt herself relax even more. they liked her—just like she knew they would. but something about seeing azzi fit like this?

that made her stomach flutter. and not from the food.

“the main dish should be ready in a few, sorry for the delay,” azzi said softly, watching everyone enjoy the appetizers with a small smile.

dijonai waved her off. “oh, girl, you’re fine. i wanna get to know you more anyways.”

maddy nodded in agreement, already nibbling on another bite. “yeah, no complaints here. you could take all night if you want.”

“it gives me time to beat paige and arike’s ass in 2k,” lyss chimed in, already making her way toward the living room with a confident bounce in her step.

paige and arike locked eyes from across the island, mirroring each other’s unimpressed expression.

“she delusional as hell,” they said in sync before cracking up, both of them following lyss with zero urgency but all the intent to humble her.

azzi just laughed under her breath, feeling the ease in the room. dijonai stayed at the island, watching her with genuine curiosity.

“so what made you start cooking like this?” she asked, leaning her elbow on the counter.

azzi wiped her hands on a dish towel before answering, “honestly? it started with my mom. she used to make me help with every meal growing up. by the time i was sixteen, i was cooking for my whole family.”

“see, that’s what i’m talking about,” dijonai said with a grin. “you got a gift.”

azzi smiled, just a little shy but still proud. “thank you. i just… really love it.”

“well, keep loving it,” maddy added, popping the last mac bite in her mouth. “’cause we’re not letting you go anytime soon.”

azzi laughed, her eyes flicking between maddy and dijonai. “you say that now, wait till y’all get tired of me being all in the kitchen every five seconds.”

“never,” dijonai said quickly. “you feed people. you could walk around here narrating your whole life and i’d still be like, ‘what’s for dinner?’”

“facts,” maddy added. “you don’t understand what you’ve done to us already.”

azzi shook her head, her grin widening. “y’all are dramatic.”

“nah, paige been acting different since you moved in,” dijonai said, sitting up straighter. “girl be smiling at her phone and everything. smiling. you know how rare that is?”

azzi’s eyes widened slightly, her voice quiet but playful. “oh yeah?”

maddy nodded, sipping her water. “mhmm. we’ve been clocked it. we were like ‘who got miss bueckers giggling?’ turns out it was you.”

azzi glanced toward the living room where paige and the others were now yelling at the tv screen. her face warmed, but she played it off, going back to the stove. “well… if it’s the food making her smile, then i’ll take that as a win.”

“sure,” dijonai said with a smirk. “let’s pretend it’s just the food.”

azzi didn’t say anything else, but the slight shake of her head and the way her smile lingered said everything. the kitchen smelled like garlic and spice, laughter echoed from the living room, and for once… it didn’t feel like work.

it felt like belonging.

“what’s cookin’ anyway?” maddy asked, resting her chin in her hand as she leaned over the island.

azzi stirred something in the pan before glancing back at them. “garlic butter salmon, lemon roasted potatoes, asparagus… and a honey glaze for the salmon on the side in case y’all like a little extra sweetness.”

dijonai blinked. “girl. girl. you tryna make us propose or what?”

azzi laughed, shaking her head as she plated the roasted potatoes onto a serving tray. “nah, i just want y’all to leave full and happy.”

“you already checked one of those off,” maddy said. “if this salmon hits like those crab cakes did, i’mma cry.”

“don’t be dramatic,” azzi teased, placing the tray in the warming drawer.

“i’m dead serious,” maddy said. “i got no shame. tears will be shed.”

from the living room, they suddenly heard lyss yell, “yo! what kind of cheat code did paige just use?!”

paige’s laugh followed immediately. “get better, lyss!”

“don’t let her talk to you like that!” arike shouted, though she was clearly laughing too.

azzi glanced toward the sound, and dijonai caught the way her smile softened. “they really like you, you know.”

“they’re cool,” azzi said, her tone low and fond. “i didn’t expect to feel this… comfortable. it’s only been a few days.”

“sometimes it don’t take long,” dijonai shrugged. “you fit in easy.”

azzi looked back down at the salmon, flipping it gently in the pan. “thanks… really.”

“we mean it,” maddy added. “this group? we don’t click with everybody. but with you—it’s natural.”

azzi stayed quiet, her chest warm. natural. she liked the sound of that. she glanced down at the salmon, then over her shoulder where the girls laughed like they’d known each other for years.

maybe it really didn’t take that long. maybe sometimes, it just clicked.

azzi plated the salmon carefully, brushing a thin layer of the honey glaze across the top of each fillet. the warmth in the kitchen wasn’t just from the stove—it was from the feeling settling in her chest, soft and steady.

behind her, dijonai and maddy were still chatting, but the energy had mellowed, like even they could feel it. something about the way azzi moved, so sure of herself in someone else’s home, but still gentle with it.

“alright,” azzi said after a beat, wiping her hands on a clean towel. “main course is done.”

dijonai and maddy both sat up straighter like kids in a classroom.

“you want help carrying it over?” maddy asked.

“nah, i got it. y’all relax.”

azzi moved with ease, bringing over the trays one by one and setting them on the island—salmon glistening under the kitchen lights, potatoes golden and crisp, asparagus sprinkled with sea salt and lemon zest. the whole apartment smelled unreal.

“what’s that smell?” paige’s voice came from the living room, footsteps following fast.

“heaven,” lyss answered before azzi even said anything.

the rest of the girls trailed in, their eyes immediately locking onto the food.

“oh hell yeah,” arike grinned, already heading for a plate. “this look like a celebration.”

paige didn’t say much at first—just stood there quietly, taking it all in. the way her teammates were hyped, the way azzi stood confidently beside the island, apron still tied around her waist, a little flour on her forearm.

“you’re insane,” paige finally said, almost under her breath. “this looks… perfect.”

azzi met her eyes, shrugging lightly. “just doing my job.”

paige held her gaze a second longer, then grabbed a plate. “you’re doing it too well.”

“then i’m doing it right,” azzi said with a small smirk, finally stepping back to let everyone dive in.

the kitchen filled with compliments, laughter, the scraping of chairs, and the clinking of silverware. azzi stood off to the side for a moment, watching it all, letting herself breathe it in.

this wasn’t just work anymore.

this was hers.

#absolute favourite.

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hcneymooners · 6 days ago

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PSA about AI & fics

gooood morning 🫶 please please read this i promise u it is important!!

writing fics using ai in any way is Evil and i implore you not to use it.

1. it is trained by stealing writers' intellectual property

2. it takes an entire major city's worth of power to train

3. the more you use ai, the more the companies get rich. openai just signed a contract with the DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE to make AI bombs and monitor civilians. ai bombs are already being deployed in palestine and are a usa-made abomination. your support of these companies literally kills people

4. billionaires have verbally stated that they want ai to become huge so they can cut regular people's jobs !! growing ai = smaller workforce = you do not have a job in the future. you're cutting your way through work just to sell yourself short

5. ai companies exploit labor in african countries to train their models, which you can read about in the linked article

6. severe environmental concerns, see below

our societal resources are dwindling every time it's used just write it baby !!! learn ur grammar rules !! google ideas with -ai in the search bar !! there's nothing wrong with your work sucking-- i would 10x rather you suck and take 20 years to put out anything than to use ai to do it. we are in a literary crisis people !! it's not "no big deal" just because it's internet fanfic. don't let ai replace what makes u human.

#!!!!!!

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hcneymooners · 8 days ago

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ik i just run a tumblr smut page BUT!!!

FUCK ICE, free palestine, free congo, FUCK trump, FUCK musk, no one is illegal on stolen land, and if u disagree, FUCK YOU TOO!!!

i’ve said this before but if u support that fuckass orange in office, idc if ur a silent follower or ur like is ur only form of interacting with me, just know, i don’t want it!!! and u are a terrible person!!! 😛

#🐇 ; about ally.

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hcneymooners · 8 days ago

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౨ৎ sometimes it’s nice to love an easy thing.

older!wnba!paige x older!wnba!azzi. men & minors dni.

synopsis: when basketball stars azzi fudd and paige bueckers, former best friends who drifted apart in the blur of fame and time, accidentally double-book the same coastal retreat, three years of missed connection dissolves into a week of devastating intimacy.

cw: implied burnout, no other warnings apply.

notes: just wrote something sweet and soft to release before i go home. this isn't edited, but i will come back later tonight to refine it. i hope you enjoy it anyway, and as always, feel free to let me know your thoughts in my inbox. i love you all so much. x

the idea was to be alone.

azzi had booked the airbnb on a whim, the way those who claimed to be only “comfortable” did when they became tired of being themselves. she was drained from the exhaustive labor of being one of america's most famous athletic names, a title she'd worked for and earned, but one that sat on her shoulders now like a sweater that didn't quite fit anymore.

the last straw was the drink deal she had to film a campaign for. she'd felt lifeless, listing between the bright plastic smile as she harped off the list of nutritional benefits for someone's rich cousin's kombucha that came in beautiful bottles and threatened to expand your “spiritual silo.” the studio had been all white walls and ring lights, the kind of sterile brightness that made everything feel like the inside of a surrealist art sketch.

as soon as the cameras had dropped, azzi's smile had dimmed, her wrists chirping like birds as her slew of cartier bracelets fell over one another and further down her arm. her personal assistant, a wonderful woman by the name of may, with a face that reminded her of someone else's memory of old hollywood glamour, had taken one look at her and booked a much-needed east coast holiday.

and now, azzi was driving her vintage land rover defender with the top down, tumbling along coastal roads at a speed that wasn't recommended but felt slower than the way she'd been living. the car was a deep forest green, the same as her long-sleeved shirt, as if it were constantly thinking of running off the road and becoming one of the trees. she had chosen to arrive in deceitful simplicity—everything she wore was at least a triple-figure price—and wrapped herself in solid colors and simple prints for her last-minute escape. still chic, still denoting her rank in life.

her curls were darker now, painstakingly maintained as she approached the end of her twenties, and streaked through with six-hundred-dollar highlights she felt did nothing for her face. just before she’d left the house, she’d pulled half of them up and away, then stuck her vintage, oversized chloé sunglasses into the mass and called it a day. she was sleek enough in other ways for it to be seen as an elle beauty section archetype, rather than being on the brink of losing her mind.

the leather weekender in her passenger seat was overstuffed, a week's worth of clothing thrown together in that careless way that only worked when everything you owned was beautiful. linen pants and silk camisoles, cotton sweaters soft as skin, all of it chosen by someone else, all of it perfectly her and not her at all. but this is who she was now; she had to come to terms at some point.

oceanic air whipped through the open car, carrying the promise of something she was unable to name. whatever it was, it was making her eyes sting. this was supposed to be healing, this week by the ocean. this was supposed to fix whatever had broken inside her during all those months of smiling for larger-than-life cameras and staging a rather convincing performance of enjoying her own life.

the house appeared through a break in the salt-heavy trees like something from a dream she'd had but never remembered fully. blue-gray shingles weathered to perfection, white trim catching the late afternoon light, an arched doorway that opened onto nothing but ocean beyond. it looked expensive in the way that most old money things did: effortless, delicately unpretentious, the kind of beauty that was careful to refrain from announcing itself because it didn't need to.

azzi pulled into the crushed shell driveway and cut the engine. the silence that followed felt different from the city quiet she was used to. not empty, but full. full of bird calls that were charming now but would annoy her later, and the distant crash of waves. the last time she’d been on this side of things was her college years. the thought made her chest tighten in a way she refused to indulge in.

she was reaching for her phone to text may and her parents that she'd arrived safely when she saw them: a pair of simple, lilac sneakers by the front door. not hers. too big. too clean. definitely not a color she would choose, but still—they felt more familiar than anything she owned.

her mouth twitched at the corners, moving neither up nor down but still indicative of her surprise.

again, the idea was to be alone. so the idea of sharing a home with a woman she hadn't spoken to in three years was not the ideal vacation.

there was no grief between them. that didn’t make it less hard.

things had gotten busy, things had fallen off. time had been too quick, and now azzi was looking at the figure who had slipped through the cracks in the rearview mirror of her life.

the screen door opened before azzi could decide whether to get out of the car or reverse back down the driveway and pretend this was all some horrible cosmic design. the kind of relaxed mistake that only felt good to people who believed in fate, which azzi had stopped doing somewhere between twenty-five and now.

paige bueckers emerged like she belonged there, like she'd been expecting this moment for years. she was wearing cargo shorts that should have looked ridiculous but didn't, a faded cotton tee that had seen better days paired with an oversized dallas hoodie that hung loose on her willowy frame, her blonde hair pulled back in that messy bun that had always made azzi's fingers itch to fix it.

her face was the same collection of angles and softness that had haunted azzi's peripheral vision for three years, such a sharp jaw and strong blue eyes that called back to a particular brand of american beauty that seemed as though it should be on a cereal box but had somehow transcended it.

she looked the same. she looked completely different. she looked like coming home and like a stranger all at once.

they stared at each other across the space between the car and the house, two women who had once known each other's breathing patterns, now separated by several feet and time and emotionally blank holiday messages.

paige's mouth opened, closed. her hands hung at her sides like she didn't know what to do with them.

paige bueckers was the greatest in many things: basketball, philanthropy, even a brief stint in fashion, to azzi's surprise, and whatever else she decided to pick up casually. but most importantly, she was the greatest (and arguably only) love of azzi's life.

there hadn't been a formal friendship breakup. just a quiet erosion, which had been more devastating than if they had mutually decided to call it quits. there was no fall, no fracture. only time, distance, the blur of planes and press cycles and everything but them.

azzi turned off the ignition and sat there for a moment, hands still on the steering wheel, watching paige watch her through the windshield. she hoped she looked beautiful and bothered. something to procure an appropriate level of emotion reserved for unexpected, grief-tinged collisions.

the late afternoon light caught in paige's hair, turning it golden at the edges and drawing azzi’s dark eyes to the state of her roots, and for a second azzi was twenty-two again, watching paige laugh at something stupid on her phone in a hotel room in phoenix, thinking this was it, this was what happiness looked like.

but she was tired now, bone-deep tired in a way that made everything feel both urgent and inevitable. so she opened the car door and stood, smoothing her hands down her jeans, and gave paige the softest, most tired smile she could manage.

“hey, p.”

the nickname fell from her lips like muscle memory, like breathing. paige's face cracked open, warped by surprise, then an open relief, before settling on something that looked dangerously close to joy.

“azzi,” paige said, and her voice carried across the space between them because america’s favorite cool girl had never learned to be anything but herself. “fuck, i—”

but she was already moving, crossing the driveway in quick strides, and before azzi could think about it, paige's arms were around her, pulling her into a hug that felt like coming up for air after being underwater for an indeterminate amount of time.

azzi breathed her in without meaning to. in her defense, it was instinct formed from the other times she’d been held like this. paige permeated azzi’s body in every sense of the word, skin thick with vanilla and something warm and spicy, the same scent that used to linger on their pillowcases, the same perfume that had haunted department stores for months after they'd stopped talking.

paige still smelled like home, like safety, like all the things azzi had convinced herself she could live without.

her weekender bag slipped from her shoulder, landing with a soft thud on the shells. neither of them moved to pick it up.

god, azzi thought, her face pressed into the crook of paige's neck, the norman fucking rockwell of it all.

when she pulled back, she found her face was wet.

the house was smaller inside than it looked from the driveway, but it was still a structural force of soft, off-white walls and bleached wood floors that creaked in the particular way that older homes did. her mother would like this, azzi thought, and she made a note to recommend it to her father for their next anniversary.

paige led her through rooms that smelled faintly of lemon oil and sodium, past windows that framed the ocean like paintings in a self-erected museum. azzi looked away from the hazy, blue smear of ocean and horizon and tuned back into paige’s predictable nervous rambling. she watched as the other woman twisted her thick, silver rings around her fingers as she tried to justify why she was walking alongside her former best friend—newly burst in.

well, she hadn’t burst. she hadn’t even snuck in really. there had always been an open space.

“the company says that their website glitched, and they accidentally overbooked. i can—”

azzi looked up, tilting her head to better catch paige’s eye, a perfectly plucked eyebrow raising with amusement.

“i promise you it’s fine, paige. i’m not going to contract some sort of disease from sharing a house with you for a week.”

“no, i know,” paige responded. “and it’s not like i have a problem being here with you either, i just—if you did feel uncomfortable, i would want you to feel like you could tell me. i know if i were shackled up with some random who wasn’t supposed to be here, especially given what i did, i would not stop until—”

“but paige,” azzi interrupted, “you aren’t random. and you haven’t done anything to me.”

paige stopped then, her face jerking oddly as if she was unsure of whether azzi meant it or was leading her on. azzi kept their eyes locked, brown on blue, earth on sky.

everything really was fine. which meant there was nothing more to say.

paige tugged nervously at a thin leather band around her wrist, and azzi felt her throat close for a brief moment. she’d bought her that during a shared family christmas in nashville. she wasn’t sure what touched her more: the idea that paige had never gotten rid of it, or the fact that she deemed it important enough to wear in her everyday life.

“so,” paige said, stopping in front of a closed door, her hand hovering over the handle. “there's kind of a situation.”

azzi’s brow furrowed, her hands still wrapped along the top of her weekender as if to arm herself against a hidden onslaught.

“the other bedrooms are closed off for renovations or something. the listing said it was a one-bedroom setup.” paige's cheeks went pink in that way they always were when she was embarrassed. “i can sleep on the couch, obviously, it's not—”

“paige.” azzi's voice was softer than she'd intended. “it's fine.”

the bedroom was beautiful in an understated coastal way: white linens, pale blue walls, french doors that opened onto a small balcony overlooking the water. there was one king bed, rumpled on one side where paige had clearly been sleeping, and a dresser with drawers half-open, spilling paige's clothes like loose secrets.

“they have extra sheets,” paige said suddenly, moving toward a closet with a new rush of nervous energy. “they left a list of inventory for the house in a binder, along with the wi-fi and stuff. i know you like to change them when you stay. to feel clean. ‘s not a big deal f’me to change them.”

azzi smiled then, small but genuine. finally, paige had let go of that ridiculously polite tone of voice and was speaking as she always had.

“there you are,” azzi said. “i thought maybe you had been body snatched. didn’t hear a single ‘bro’ in the first five minutes of you talking.”

paige laughed, her face lighting up with what azzi knew to be relief. “sorry, you just look a little different. didn’t know if i needed to be too.”

azzi let her bag hit the floor gently. “i always liked you as you were.”

the words hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of being known. azzi's chest seemed to shrink as she turned back to the bed. three years of barely-there connection, and paige still remembered something so small, so specific to her particular anxieties about unfamiliar spaces.

“thank you,” azzi said quietly. “for thinking of me.”

they made the bed together without talking about it. paige stripped the old sheets with efficient movements while azzi unpacked the crisp white ones from their packaging, and then they were on opposite sides of the mattress, tucking corners with the kind of synchronized precision that came from muscle memory.

when paige reached across to smooth a wrinkle near azzi's side, their hands brushed. neither of them pulled away immediately.

paige opened the top drawer of the dresser, pushed her own things to one side, and gestured for azzi to fill the empty space. it was such a small thing, making room, but azzi's throat went tight watching paige's fingers carefully arrange her t-shirts to give azzi half the drawer.

“we should probably get groceries,” paige said when azzi had finished unpacking, her voice too bright. “there's literally nothing here except, like, stale crackers and some whiteclaws i bought.”

“whiteclaws?” azzi repeated, her voice swollen with disbelief. “you are almost thirty.”

“almost being the key word,” paige said, already walking down the hall. “besides, if it tastes good, imma buy it.”

azzi covered her mouth, forcefully keeping the rising laugh behind her teeth.

the land rover felt different with paige in the passenger seat. smaller, charged with the particular tension of two people trying very hard to act normal. paige had changed into a bamboo-thread button-down and swapped her lilac sneakers for white converse. she slunk down in the passenger seat, her legs widening as she got comfortable, and the image of it made azzi grip the steering wheel a little tighter.

the road wound through pine trees and past houses that got progressively smaller as they drove inland, away from the mostly empty, marine estates and toward something more lived-in. paige had rolled her window down, and the wind whipped her blonde hair around her face as she talked, a curtain made white by the mouth of the sun.

“—and then the whole team got food poisoning from this sushi place in dallas, which was honestly hilarious in retrospect, but at the time i thought coach was going to literally murder us. oh, and did you know that jana is engaged to someone now? this guy from her job. he’s pretty chill but—"

“p.” azzi's voice cut through the stream of words, gentle but firm. “one thing at a time.”

paige blinked, her mouth still half-open on whatever she'd been about to say next. “sorry. i'm being—sorry.”

“you're nervous,” azzi said, glancing at her before turning her attention back to the road. “it's okay. i'm nervous too.”

the admission seemed to deflate some of the tension in the car. paige slumped back in her seat, no longer talking at breakneck speed.

“it's weird, right?” paige said finally. “being here. together.”

“yeah,” azzi agreed. “it's weird. and i wish it wasn’t.”

but it’s not bad that it was, she didn't say. it wasn’t unwelcome. but it was more uncomfortable than she would’ve liked, the kind that came from realizing that some people lived inside of you even when they weren't in your life, even when you'd convinced yourself you'd moved on.

the grocery store was one of those small green markets that catered to a certain selection of summering customers. the shelves were stocked with organic everything, and the wine selections consisted of bottles that cost more than most people spent on groceries in a week. the patrons all were versions of the same thing: bare-faced, blowouts, subtle tweaks via non-invasive procedures azzi had booked and unbooked, tight smiles so that they didn’t seem rude, but also used to ask you to move along.

azzi smiled back in the same way because she wanted the same thing.

she grabbed a cart, and paige fell into step beside her, close enough that their arms brushed when they turned corners.

“so,” paige said, reaching for a bag of expensive-looking pasta. “tell me more about the kombucha thing. that sounded…”

“horrible?” azzi supplied, and paige laughed.

“i was going to be nice and say 'unlike you', but horrible works too.”

“it was both.” azzi picked up a bottle of olive oil, checked the price, and put it in the cart anyway. she didn’t know why she still pretended as if her bank account was an empty chamber in which she only used to scream. “i kept thinking about how my college self would have made fun of me for doing an ad for something called a ‘spiritual silo.’”

“your college self would have done the same,” paige said, and something was running along the words. fond, knowing. “remember when you used to make fun of me when you brought those green smoothies to practice? you’d make a fucking airplane noise to get me to take a sip.”

“you got me there. i guess i’ve always been one of those girls,” azzi said, but she was smiling.

“yeah,” paige said. then lower, as if azzi wasn’t supposed to hear, “but you were my girl.”

azzi tensed, then bent down and pretended to care deeply about the amount of bacteria in one brand of yogurt, and then another.

they moved through the store like that, trading memories disguised as small talk, someone slipping up and revealing their desperation for the other, before slowly finding their rhythm again. paige grabbed ingredients for a philly steak bowl, and azzi selected a slab of salmon that cost more than it should have and was much too orange to be truly authentic.

somewhere between the produce section and the checkout line, the space between them started to feel less like a chasm and more like a ditch they were at risk of dipping into but could eventually learn to cross.

the second morning arrived soft and golden, filtering through the french doors like honey through cheesecloth. azzi woke to the sound of waves and paige's breathing, deep and even beside her.

they'd maintained their invisible line down the middle of the bed, but sometime in the night paige had turned toward her, one arm flung across the space between them like a question mark. azzi was unable to help herself, her desire loose and unmanageable when she first woke, and she reached out to carefully remove a few thin pieces of hair from paige’s face. she could feel the flush of paige’s blood, the warmth of her life pooling around her high cheekbones and dripping to her slack mouth.

azzi let it run through her, and then she rescinded before she became too re-attached.

she slipped out quietly, bare feet silent on the cool hardwood. she'd packed a collection of loose dresses for this trip, linen and cotton things that skimmed her body without clinging, the kind of effortless pieces that photographed well for the lifestyle content her team was always pushing.

you could be a different type of wnba star, her first pr manager had spouted. azzi hadn’t even asked what that meant. the vitriol the woman had slathered across the words told her everything she needed to know.

so, she just fired her.

after a sleep-soaked huddle underneath the warm spray of the shower, azzi emerged from the ensuite bathroom in a cream-colored slip dress that fell just above her knees, soft as butter against her skin, with a black lace hem. she fortified herself with her regular stack of gold and diamonds, unsurprised to see paige unmoved by the chimes of the jewelry pieces as they ran into one another.

some things never change.

the kitchen was composed of marble countertops and cabinets painted in a shade of electric blue that was just shy of being overstimulating. the windows over the sink and behind the oak-slab table were wide and performed the same framing of the ocean as the others in the house.

azzi admired the view briefly before beginning her search for the coffee machine she had been promised. she made coffee in the kind of ritualistic way that had become her morning meditation: grinding beans, measuring water, waiting for the slow drip. the domesticity of it felt foreign and familiar all at once.

it was a blessing to suck at the teat of regular caffeine instead of the matcha powder she’d been choking down, lest she get caught supporting a brand that she wasn’t an ambassador of. partnership was everything.

she found herself on the small deck overlooking the water, coffee warm between her palms, watching the sun paint the horizon in shades of apricot and rose. the book she'd brought, a different selection than the literary thing her publicist had recommended, lay unopened in her lap. instead, she let herself exist in the space between sleep and waking, between memory and possibility.

she closed her eyes, let everything become the same shade as paige’s preferred blonde.

when paige emerged an hour later, hair sleep-mussed and wearing a well-worn t-shirt, she found azzi exactly where she'd left her mental image: barefoot and golden in the morning light, dress riding up her thighs as she tucked her legs beneath her.

“morning, princess,” paige said, settling into the chair beside her with her own mug. “you're up early.”

“i like the quiet,” azzi replied, opening her eyes but not looking away from the water. the nickname settled at her neck like a stone. “before the world gets a hold of where i am.”

paige hummed in response, before reaching to the side and pulling out her ipad with the casual focus of someone who'd never learned to exist without a screen. game tape, probably. or those stupid tiktoks she's always been addicted to.

some things never change.

azzi couldn’t help the way her mouth rose in a soft smile, eyes tracking the familiar hunch of paige’s back over the screen. it was only then that she realized the shirt paige had slept in was an old relic of azzi’s uconn days. a white tee with the faded print of her face, the number thirty-five faded in blue on the back.

her chest hurt. it couldn’t seem to stop.

they sat like that for a while, azzi reading passages that didn't stick, paige absorbed in whatever digital rabbit hole she'd fallen into. their silence wasn't uncomfortable anymore. it was full, a bit tense the way good silences were, filled with the sound of pages turning and coffee being sipped and swallowed and the distant crash of waves against rock.

it was easy for azzi to believe that she had made it to that fantasy of domesticity she’d always kept close to her chest. but the truth was that she only had a week of it, because she’d never told the love of her life that she loved her more than allowed, for her entire life.

by midweek, they'd found their perfect cadence.

azzi would wake first, make coffee, and leave some behind for paige to wake to. then she’d claim her spot on the deck with whatever book she was pretending to focus on. paige would emerge twenty minutes later, ipad in hand, settling into the space with her mug beside her like she belonged there. they'd share the morning without talking much, two people remembering how to exist in the same orbit.

the afternoons belonged to the kitchen.

it started accidentally. azzi had been standing at the marble island, halving peaches with a knife that was too sharp for the job, juice running down her wrists in sticky rivulets. the fruit was perfect, blushed and heavy, the kind of summer abundance that made you understand why people wrote poems about the season.

“hey, careful,” paige had said, appearing at her elbow, voice low and sleep-rough. "you’re gonna lose a finger messin' around like that.”

and then somehow paige was there, her body a warm presence at azzi's side, taking the knife with gentle fingers and finishing the job. her movements were efficient, practiced. she'd always been good with her hands.

“there,” paige said, sliding half a peach across the cutting board, that familiar rasp creeping into her voice. “perfect.”

azzi bit into it without thinking, let the sweetness flood her mouth, and when she looked up, paige was watching her with something that looked like hunger.

after that, they cooked together.

not planned, not discussed. it just happened. azzi would start something—slicing tomatoes for a salad, seasoning the expensive salmon she'd bought—and paige would drift over, find something to do with her hands. busy herself with slipping into azzi’s space. setting the table, opening wine, chopping herbs with the kind of focus she usually reserved for basketball.

the kitchen was small enough that they had to move around each other, a careful choreography that was becoming less careful by the day. paige would reach for salt just as azzi turned from the stove, and their hips would brush. when azzi needed something from the upper cabinet, paige would appear behind her, one hand settling on her lower back while the other reached over her head.

“‘scuse me, princess,” paige would murmur, the words low and familiar, and azzi would lean into the touch before she could stop herself.

“sorry,” one of them would murmur, but neither moved away quickly.

on thursday, azzi decided to make something proper. not just pasta but a whole meal, the way she used to back in the dorms when she'd drag paige kicking and screaming away from takeout.

she pulled out ingredients like she was conducting an orchestra: wild-caught halibut that cost more than most people's grocery budget, meyer lemons bright as a child’s drawing of the sun, asparagus with stalks thin as pencils, a bottle of sancerre white that had been waiting for either the right moment or the moment where her nerves became too shot to raw the world.

she was at the island, zesting a lemon with focused precision, when paige appeared behind her.

“move, baby,” paige said, voice low and warm, her hands settling on azzi's waist to guide her aside so she could reach the upper cabinet. the pet name slipped out like muscle memory, and neither of them acknowledged it, but azzi felt the heat of paige's palms through the thin fabric of her dress.

“what you need me to do?” paige asked, already washing her hands, settling into the familiar rhythm of being azzi's sous chef.

“asparagus, please,” azzi said, nodding toward the bundle of green spears. “trim the ends, then cut them on the bias. and don't make them too thick—”

“i know how you like them,” paige interrupted, that raspy laugh threading through her voice. “damn, some things really don't change.”

she worked with the same focus she brought to everything, tongue pink and peeking as she concentrated. the kitchen filled with the sound of her knife against the cutting board, steady and sure.

when the fish was ready—skin crispy and golden, flesh flaking perfectly—azzi plated it like she was styling a magazine shoot. the plates themselves were white ceramic things that felt substantial in their hands, but the food was a dream.

halibut nestled against bright green asparagus, lemon butter pooled golden around the edges, microgreens scattered like confetti. azzi poured the wine into proper glasses, turning the bottle expertly so that nothing dripped and stained.

“jesus, az,” paige said, settling across from her at the small dining table. “this is some fancy shit. anthony bourdois and stuff.”

azzi knew paige knew that man’s name, but she laughed as she was supposed to. and because she found it funny.

“anthony bourdain,” azzi said automatically, but she was smiling.

“my bad,” paige grinned, taking a bite. her eyes went wide, then soft. “oh, this is… fuck. sorry. this is really good.”

azzi preened a little, brown eyes deepening with pleasure.

“this is perfect,” paige said, her voice gone soft and wondering. “like, for real, az. i forgot how good you are at this.”

“it's not that hard,” azzi replied, but she was practically plump with the compliment. cooking for paige had always been her way of taking care of her, making sure she ate something green, something real. “besides, i remember someone who used to live off protein bars and those horrible energy drinks.”

“aye, don't come for my red bulls,” paige laughed, that low rasp making azzi's stomach flip. “those got me through college.”

“those were gonna give you a heart attack and get you through the icu,” azzi countered, cutting another piece of fish. “i had to do something.”

later, after the dishes were done and the wine was finished, they found themselves back on the deck. the sun was setting, painting everything in shades of coral and gold. the ocean seemed on fire, and though azzi had her book again, she'd given up pretending to read it. paige had put the ipad aside, was just sitting there, looking out at the water.

“i forgot how much i liked this,” paige said suddenly.

“what?”

“this. just… being. not having to be anywhere or do anything or perform for anyone.”

azzi looked at her then, really looked. paige's face was soft in the golden light, younger somehow. free of the particular tension she carried in public, the weight of being watched and measured and judged.

“that’s why you came, right?” azzi asked gently, and paige tilted her head so she could look at her.

“yeah, some of it. just got…tired.”

“yeah,” azzi said quietly. “me too.”

by the time they both came to bed, they knew things were irreparably different. things had been skewed back to the lives they’d led before their separation. the sound of azzi brushing her teeth had become paige's lullaby, the signal that the day was officially over, that she could finally begin to let herself sleep.

they shared the bed without the careful distance of the first two nights. not touching, exactly, but not actively avoiding it either. when azzi turned over in her sleep, her hand found paige's arm, and paige didn't pull away. there was a sudden silence, and then azzi felt the bed dip as paige curled around her like a flesh half-moon.

she smelled different. lighter. azzi caught a whiff of l’eau d’issey rising from the nape of paige’s neck: cool, sheer, mineralic. plastic lotus blossoms on a reflective silver pond. it was what paige wore when she wanted to go to bed feeling more like a girl and less like a woman, more like a girl and less like a god.

azzi didn’t even know she remembered what paige wore to bed.

(she did.)

some rhythms, it seemed, were too deep to break.

friday broke bright and new, and with it the bittersweet realization that they had two days left to spend wrapped around one another. that was all they had; two more mornings, two more nights. azzi felt it in her chest like the ghost of a bruise.

she was determined to make the most of it.

she woke early as usual, but forwent her typical routine. her shower came and went, steam curling around her like phantom ribbons. when she stepped out, she was already dressed, wrapped in a sleek, white long-sleeved one-piece that looked more architectural than athletic. the tailored seams tracked elegant, merciless lines down her body. waist cinched, sleeves sharp, legs carved out in clean sweeps of muscle.

the zipper at the front was undone just enough to draw the eye, resting at the softest dip of her chest, letting the curves of her breasts peek out, intentional and knowing. the fabric caught the light, made her body look even more divine, like she’d stepped from a film still.

paige, sprawled across the bed in a tank top and boxer shorts, nearly choked. her mouth went a little slack; she forgot what she’d been about to say. the brown slope of azzi’s thighs was enough to make paige’s mouth go dry, hunger pooling at the base of her tongue. her blue eyes caught hard on the swell of azzi’s ass when she turned to grab a small blue and white striped canvas tote. paige didn’t even pretend not to look.

azzi turned back around with a slow grin, catching the quick flush that had already started to rise up paige’s neck.

“come on, cool girl. get ready.” her voice was warm, edged with amusement. “we’re going to the beach.”

the walk wasn’t long. just a soft, simple turn around the house and a stroll down the manicured path to the shoreline. still, everything felt momentous.

the day was already heavy with heat, as if it had been boiling last evening and was now bursting. the beach itself was empty enough that azzi took her sunglasses off, unafraid of being seen.

she was barefoot, curls frizzed at the edges, eyes salt-slick and bright with that calm kind of joy that came with being near the sea. there was no one to see her but paige, and that was enough.

behind her, paige followed, bikini black and spare, skin bronzed in uneven patches from too many hours lying out alone before azzi arrived. her tan lines dipped low across her stomach, disappeared under the band of her suit bottoms. she looked ridiculously beautiful. the type of woman you’d see on a postcard and write about ten years later.

azzi glanced back. smiled to herself.

she liked the idea of what they must’ve looked like: her in white, paige in black. a mirrored negative. duality made literal. it was reflective of them. the world often felt singular and simple when they were together.

things fell into the realm of paige-and-azzi, and what was not simply fell out of it.

“az,” paige called, voice caught between a whine and a wheeze, “can you just tell me what we’re doing?”

azzi turned, lips already tugged upward, curls bouncing as she walked. “i’m going to teach you how to surf.”

paige blinked. “huh?”

azzi didn’t answer, only laughed, light and delighted as she pointed toward the surf shack in the distance.

it took her a few minutes to find the surf shack, but a few minutes later (after minimal bribery and a borrowed id), azzi returned triumphant with two long turquoise boards, balanced easily beneath her arms like they weighed nothing.

she guided paige to the water’s edge, where the tide frothed at their ankles, and then further still, until the boards bobbed between them.

paige, of course, was exactly how azzi imagined she’d be: stubborn, impatient, flailing.

“you've got to paddle sooner,” azzi called from the break, wiping salt from her brow. “you keep waiting too long.”

paige coughed, breathless, clinging to the surfboard as if it was going to save her from more than drowning. “you’re literally a professional athlete.”

azzi shrugged, grinning slyly. “so are you.”

the water was warmer than expected, flecked with sunlight and the faint tang of algae. everything felt lush. sticky with summer. a breeze teased through the salt-thick air, carrying the scent of sunscreen, driftwood, crushed shells, and something sweet paige couldn’t place.

eventually, miraculously, paige caught a wave. only for a second. two seconds, maybe. but she was upright, alive in the motion, and azzi screamed so loudly from the shoreline that a gull flapped off in terror.

they laughed all the way back up the dunes, limbs wet and trembling. sand stuck to their shins, towels slung carelessly across their shoulders. azzi’s skin glowed gold in the setting sun, the long light catching every curve and ridge like it was sculpting her from scratch. paige didn’t say a word. she didn’t need to. her silence was reverent. eyes soft, fixed. she couldn’t stop looking.

she felt too full of azzi to speak.

the house loomed ahead, blue and wide and a little too quiet. another cruel body of water to swallow them. paige felt the day slipping away as they approached it. azzi slipped her hand into paige’s for one beat, warm and solid, before veering off toward the side of the house without a word.

paige didn’t ask where she was going. she already knew.

the outside shower was tucked away in the corner of the deck, half-hidden by slatted wood. the water had already started—a low hiss, steady and rhythmic, a sound that felt older than memory. pine trees rustled overhead, wind threading through the steam like fingers through hair.

azzi’s hum floated up from behind the slats. low, off-key, gentle. paige didn’t recognize the song, but it sat on the tip of her tongue, half-remembered. like something she’d once been told in the dark. something whose sweetness she could only recall if she sucked its juice from azzi’s mouth.

the decision came easily. unthinking. paige stepped off the deck, padded barefoot through the warm grass, and slipped behind the slats.

when paige stepped into the small, steamy alcove, the air shifted. azzi didn’t flinch. she didn’t turn. she just tilted her chin slightly, made room like she’d known paige would come.

the water slid down her back in gleaming sheets, catching the curve of her spine, tracing the indent of her waist, and pooling at the small of it. the soft weight of her curls clung damp to her shoulders, steam turning the ones at her temple’s edge soft and sweet. she was almost too beautiful to look at directly.

paige’s swimsuit slipped off easily. wet fabric gliding down her body, aimless and forgotten on the floorboards. she stepped in closer and pressed against azzi, bare chest to bare back. her arms looped around azzi’s waist, her fingers splaying just beneath the curve of her ribs. skin met skin, warm and wet and so achingly familiar. azzi let her. she didn’t say a word.

paige tested her limit, pressed her lips to azzi’s shoulder, slow and reverent. lapped up the remaining salt.

another kiss.

then another.

salt caked her mouth. steam smothered her lungs.

“i missed you,” she whispered, deep into azzi’s skin. then again. and again. the words turned desperate, came faster, wet and unyielding like the ocean had turned her loose, and now she couldn’t stop spilling out. “i missed you. i missed you. i missed you.”

the words were raw, like they had been locked behind her teeth for years and now refused to stay in.

azzi turned slowly, water coursing between them. her eyes swept over paige’s face: pink brow, trembling mouth, eyes glassy and brimming with emotion, cheeks ruddy. her hand came up and cradled the back of paige’s neck, firm and careful.

she didn’t say anything. and then she kissed her.

it wasn’t tender. it wasn’t gentle. it was hungry. familiar. a crash, more than a meeting. like she was trying to drink paige down, swallow every last second they’d been apart.

water ran between them, hot and insistent. their bodies pressed together, slick and unyielding. paige was in her bloodstream, azzi in hers. paige's hands slipped down azzi’s back, found her hips. azzi kissed her like she wanted her ruined, like paige was a prayer and the answer both.

they moved together like muscle memory. like instinct. like nothing had ever come between them except time, and time had finally given up.

there had never truly been two people. they had always been this. one thing in two bodies. a pulse shared across years since they were sixteen, and teeming with their first tastes of romantic affection.

the water kept running. the sun began to fall, streaking the sky a torturous red. for that moment, in the warm hush of steam and pine and skin, nothing was lost.

they knew.

they’d always known.

on the last morning, the house was quiet.

the silence felt intentional. the house was stagnant with the dread that always came with goodbyes. the walls had heard enough. the floors seemed to soften their creaks in respect.

azzi stirred first. slipped from the sheets, then stopped. turned back.

she lay herself down gently, stretching across paige’s body like she couldn’t help it. gravity had chosen a different path for her instead. her cheek found paige’s collarbone. the rest of her settled into place, limbs all long and warm and drowsy.

for a moment, they didn’t move. but she knew the other woman was awake.

paige ran her fingers along azzi’s spine, slow and steady, tracing the line of a coastline she already knew by heart. the dips, the curves, the familiar tenderness. azzi exhaled. pressed closer. paige kissed the crown of her head.

once. then again. made no effort to stop her hand from smoothing over the dip of azzi’s back, her waist.

there were no words, no need. just this aching tenderness, the hush of early light slipping across their bodies, and the sound of something unspoken being understood.

when azzi finally moved to leave, she did it slowly. her lips brushed paige’s temple first, then the corner of her mouth, then paused like she might say something, but didn’t. she only looked at her, doe eyes soft and teeth peeking from under her top lip, like i love you lived there and always had.

paige didn’t follow her downstairs. it was easier to listen to the gentle thud of her sandals and the screen door whispering shut. she stayed curled up in the bed, body rocking, still in the ocean from the days before, wearing her sleep tee like a loose shield.

through the blinds, she watched azzi load her things into the back of her cherry land rover. her curls were half-wet again, face bare, sunglasses pushed up in her hair. she looked like a dream you had where you felt the best you ever had, but could never get quite right when relaying it in conversation.

they didn’t need a speech. not this time. nothing had broken. they’d just fallen out of orbit for a while. but gravity was patient. and paige had always been a slow-burn kind of girl.

the car rolled down the drive and disappeared behind a bend of trees.

paige didn’t cry, not really. but her eyes stung in that way that felt inherited. a return of the sadness she'd borrowed from the younger version of herself, that she’d never outrun. she stared at the ceiling. let the ache crest and soften.

then her phone buzzed.

a text, first.

➳ come visit me, please. ➳ missed you so much.

and then the photos: a quiet icloud link drop, an album titled a&p east coast week, filled with images paige hadn’t known were being taken. azzi had been watching. always.

a blurred photo of them on the dunes, paige snorting with laughter. a shot of their coffee mugs on the deck. a grainy zoom of the low dip of paige’s bikini bottom on their walk back from the surf. a screenshot of a playlist code, a half-assed grocery list. a pale photo of the ocean in the morning. a photo of paige asleep, limbs splayed and face young.

fifteen minutes passed. then paige responded.

no words, just a screenshot of a one-way ticket. lax.

azzi loved it. pink heart, blue bubble, and all.

paige rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, breathing through the salt-heat in her stomach, the stillness of the morning. nothing was solved. nothing had to be.

no promises. no titles. just the quiet, sure thing they’d always been.

they’d always come back to each other.

they already had.

somewhere in the distance, the waves kept folding in.

#mine ; 🐎.#pazzi #pazzi fics #paige x azzi #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #dallas wings

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