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lilirae00 · 3 days ago

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You're a Dream - Part 2/2

Summary: This occurs immediately after the events in part 1 found here. Azzi goes to practice with Paige

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: fluff, sexual tension, no actual smut in this one, sorry! Also sorry this took so long. I've had majority of it done for a while but I kept getting distracted by other ideas.

Masterlist

—

As they walked into the Wings practice facility, Azzi nestled in close behind Paige, sunglasses sitting high on her nose, despite leaving the blaring Dallas sun behind in the parking lot. She dropped them just low enough to see around, not even trying to hide the smirk on her mouth.

Paige turned her head to give Azzi a warning look that was more bark than bite. "Behave," she said quietly, so no one else could hear.

Azzi snorted and pushed the glasses back up and playfully swatted Paige's ass with the back of her hand at the same time. "Always," she said, sounding not convincing at all.

Paige let out a small groan and scrubbed her hand down her face.

Azzi giggled, stepping around to face her, and leaning in close to say, "I'm just here to watch my girlfriend play basketball.” She bit her lip to avoid laughing as she said it.

Paige squinted at Azzi, and tried to hide the faintest of smiles. "Right. Just watch. No funny business."

Azzi's eyebrows raised behind the glasses. "Define funny business,” she said.

Paige's jaw twitched with her voice cracking. "Azzi."

"Paige." Azzi said it back, infuriatingly sweet.

Paige tried to keep up the scowl but sighed in defeat. "Okay. Just sit there," she said jerking her head towards the sideline bench where occasional visitors would sit to watch.

"And try not to get me benched."

Azzi placed her hand over her heart and gave a solemn salute, before brushing a kiss across Paige's cheek that left her off balance and blushing.

Azzi then took a seat with an over exaggerated innocent expression, crossing her long legs and leaving her chin resting in her palm, looking just like a supportive girlfriend.

Paige stared a beat too long and swallowed hard. "Christ," she muttered before jogging out onto the court with her teammates to begin warming up with some stretches.

Azzi settled back into the seat with a self satisfied little grin as she watched Paige's long ponytail bounce and bounce as Paige ran back and forth across the court.

—

It only took 15 minutes for Paige to regret inviting Azzi to practice.

The first fifteen minutes felt completely normal. They ran layup drills, followed by shooting drills. Everyone on the team was joking and talking smack at each other like normal. Azzi sat at the end of the bench, leaned in with her elbows on her knees, attentive and bright-eyed.

But she was a little too attentive.

Every time Paige looked over, Azzi was watching her like she was the whole show. Her eyes kept trailing down the length of Paige’s legs as she moved. Examining where the waistband of her shorts dig into her sweat dampened skin, lips creeping into private, knowing smiles.

Paige tried to ignore it.

She really tried to focus, but she missed two jumpers in a row.

“Focus P!” One of her teammates hounded her.

Paige scowled when she missed and tried to reset with a roll of her shoulders. She tried to focus, she just...

Paige looked over again.

Azzi nibbled on her lip and chuckled as her neck tilted just enough for her curly hair to fall back and expose the long line of her neck.

When she saw Paige looking, she grinned slowly forming a smirk. She knew exactly what she was doing. To make it worse, she uncrossed her legs and reclined back into the chair so that her denim shorts scooted higher, revealing more of her powerful tan thighs.

That sent a surge of air through Paige's throat.

“Jesus Christ,” she blurted out under her breath.

She missed another shot.

The assistant Coach gave her a side eye. “Everything alright, Bueckers?”

“Fine,” Paige shouted too high.

Azzi beamed at her from the sidelines, giving her the tiniest, most insufferable little finger wave.

Paige felt like lava was going to bubble out of her ears.

Once they broke into five on five scrimmage, it got worse. She tried to focus but every time she dribbled and passed it towards her teammate, her eyes would unintentionally glance to where Azzi was sitting.

And Azzi?

Azzi leaned back nonchalantly with one knee bent across the other. She held her phone in her hand pretending to be disinterested, except she was licking her lips slowly every time Paige was at her end of the court.

She smirked when Paige tripped over her feet, and she even blew Paige a kiss when she made a deep three.

Paige’s teammates started noticing. One of the vets jogged past her in transition and muttered, “Your girl’s got you twisted today, huh?”

“Shut up,” Paige warned. And then she immediately missed a layup.

By the time Coach finally called them in to huddle and end practice, Paige was vibrating with frustration and something way too close to arousal. She couldn’t look in Azzi's direction without blushing or wanting to murder her.

And Azzi sat there, legs crossed, lips pursed in the fakest, most innocent look she’d ever worn in her life.

Paige wanted to drag her into the locker room and kiss that smug look right off her face. Or pin her to the floor. Or both.

Definitely both.

The second Coach dismissed the team with a “Good job, see you all tomorrow,” Paige was already turning on her heel, disregarding the playful shoulder bumps and quiet laughter of teammates around her.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. Her jaw was tense and her thick ponytail swung behind her like an irritated horse's tail.

Azzi didn’t even try to disguise that she was waiting for the chance to talk to Paige. She bounced up off the chair and adjusted her shorts that were bunched way too high on her thigh. A smirky smile was already creeping across her mouth.

Paige stormed toward her and stopped just inches away from Azzi, glaring down at her.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” she said through gritted teeth.

Azzi blinked up at her and put on the biggest innocent wide-eyed look Paige had ever seen.

“I just sat and watched,” Azzi said softly. “Just like you told me to.”

Paige’s jaw worked. Her fingers flexed next to her hips.

Azzi's eyes moved down from Paige's face, to her hands, tight fists, and smirked wide with satisfaction.

“Relax, Bueckers,” she said in a low voice that was only for Paige. “You look like you wanna drag me outta here right now.”

Paige actually gasped.

“Azzi,” she warned, voice a bit ragged now.

Azzi tilted her head, curls brushed her shoulder, eyes dark and relaxed.

“Say it,” she said, teasingly. “Say please behave one more time.”

Paige felt her nostrils flare. "I swear to God…"

But Azzi only grinned, slipping her fingers lightly beneath the hem of Paige’s practice jersey, brushing the bare, sweat-slick skin with a feather-light touch that made Paige shiver.

“You're so worked up,” Azzi whispered. “Is it because of me?”

Paige actually looked around in panic, making sure that no one could hear.

“Stop,” she hissed.

Azzi's eyes sparkled. “Make me.”

Paige made a low, guttural sound deep in her throat. She grabbed Azzi's wrist, but not hard. Just firm enough as she started dragging her to the far end of the facility.

“Where are we going?” Azzi sang out, not resisting in the slightest, almost tripping over her own feet in an effort to keep up.

Paige didn’t respond.

She just pulled them through the back hallway and past the main exit, her grip of Azzi's wrist tightening with each step.

Eventually, Azzi realized they were veering away from the normal front doors, moving down a corridor with cinderblock walls and faded motivational posters hanging on the walls.

“Paige?” Azzi gasped. “I've never gone out this way before."

Paige didn't look back, but her voice was wrecked when she finally spoke.

“Yeah,” she growled. “I know.”

Azzi blinked, then recognition spread across her face.

Her dream.

Azzi's heart raced.

“Paige,” she gasped again.

Paige stopped so suddenly that Azzi almost crashed into her back. She turned toward Azzi, wrapping her hands gently but insistently around both of Azzi's forearms and pressing her against the wall just outside the Wings locker room door.

Azzi gasped, eyes growing wide.

Paige's chest was rising and falling quickly, cheeks flushed, hairline glistening with sweat. Her eyes scanned behind Azzi at the locker room door, then met Azzi's eyes once more, narrowing slightly in mock accusation.

“Is this what you wanted?” she asked, voice intentionally low and harsh.

Azzi blinked, glancing over her shoulder at the door and back to Paige, her pupils wide.

She swallowed very loudly, painfully.

Paige couldn't help but smirk, but was trying to hold back. “Yeah,” she finally confirmed, teasing while breathlessly holding back a smile, “that's what I thought.”

Azzi's breathing became irregular.

Paige lightly pressed in against her as much as the cinderblock wall would allow, both of Paige's big hands and Azzi's forearms anchored into the wall.

Then she kissed her. Hard.

Not sweet. Not gentle. Just claiming.

Azzi whimpered into it, fingers clutching Paige's jersey and twisting.

Paige pulled back about an inch, their foreheads touching.

“You're a tease,” Paige breathed, voice shaking. “You know that?”

Azzi bit her lip, eyes hazy with heat and triumph.

“Takes one to know one,” she whispered back.

Paige growled, a rumble came from deep in her chest that set Azzi's lips vibrating again as she pushed in again. This time was slower, like she was savoring the taste of her.

Her mouth opened, and Azzi opened hers in response and they brushed tongues. It was slow and intentional in a way that sent sparks racing through Azzi's spine.

It wasn't frantic. It wasn't about winning or taking. It was about feeling.

Paige tilted her head slightly, angling the kiss, sinking in deeper and letting her tongue stroke slowly beside Azzi's tongue as if coaxing her lips apart instead of claiming them.

Azzi whimpered softly into her mouth. The sound was half breath, half need. Her hands still bunched in Paige's jersey, and her nails felt like they would tear through the fabric.

Paige kissed her like she was memorizing the shape of her lips and the give of her mouth. Azzi trembled when the kiss turned just a little wetter, a little hungrier.

Azzi could feel her hips rolling forward, looking for friction as the ache between her thighs became sharper, restless. But, of course, the kiss didn’t speed up. Paige was still moving slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, as if she truly wanted Azzi to feel every moment of their connection.

When they finally separated, their mouths were slick with remnants of saliva and both of their eyes were hazy, clouded from the kiss. Azzi's chest was heaving with want, and she could barely hold in the whimper that escaped her lips.

Then Paige stepped back.

Azzi blinked rapidly, her lips red and swollen. "Paige," she whispered, her breath stuttering. "Don't you dare…"

But Paige was already stepping back, pulling her hands off Azzi's arms, leaving Azzi to feel helpless against the wall while she blinked in frustration.

Paige wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, looking dark-eyed and smug. "You didn't actually think I was going to fuck you in the locker room, did you?"

Azzi gasped, jaw dropped, as she pushed with no force against Paige's chest. "You are so evil," she breathed, cheeks flushed bright red, voice shaky.

Paige caught her wrists easily, pinning them gently back to the wall with a grin.

“That’s what you get,” she murmured, voice rough with satisfaction. “For winding me up all through practice…sitting there looking at me like that.”

Azzi was trying to glare at her, breathing heavy. "Looking at you like what?" she asked, breath catching.

Paige's eyes raked over Azzi's face, triumph and affection all at once. "Like you wanted me to lose my mind," she rasped.

Azzi's mouth parted in shock, eyes darkened.

Paige smirked, brushing her lips against Azzi's lightly one more time before releasing her wrists and stepping back. "Come on," she ordered, her voice back to the teasing command.

"Time to go home, before I actually get in trouble for bringing you back here... "

Azzi rolled her eyes as she shoved herself off the wall and stalked past her with a dramatic flair. “You’re such an asshole,” she said over her shoulder.

Paige merely grinned and jogged to catch up, as she flung an arm around Azzi's neck and pulled her in tight. “Uh huh.”

She dropped a warm, noisy kiss on Azzi's temple as Azzi squirmed. “But I'm your asshole.”

Azzi groaned and buried her face in her hands, but allowed herself to be led out into the sticky Dallas afternoon. She walked briskly, head down, muttering curses under her breath while Paige stayed a step behind, watching her with infuriating amusement.

“Aw, c'mon,” Paige teased, her voice low and smug. “Don't be mad.”

Azzi didn't slow her steps. “I'm not mad,” she shot back. “I'm just…frustrated.”

Paige laughed, then reached forward and snagged Azzi's elbow, steering her toward her parked SUV. “That sounds like a you problem,” she teased.

Azzi stopped so abruptly that Paige nearly smacked into her back. “And it's gonna be a you problem if I have to wake you up in the middle of the night again,” she snapped, her voice sharp with heat and humiliation.

Paige's smirk faltered slightly, her breath catching just a bit at that. Because they both remembered exactly how that had gone. For a single moment, it seemed as though the tension might erupt into something significantly different.

But Paige turned it around, dragging her teeth across her bottom lip slowly, the smile afterward wasn't quite as lopsided…still cocky, but a bit warmer.

“Yeah?” she cooed, voice sultry, playful, low enough Azzi held her breath for a second. "You promise?"

Azzi narrowed her eyes again and was still breathing heavy like she had been the one running in practice. And the look she shot Paige would’ve been classified as murderous on paper, but her face said otherwise.

“I hate you,” Azzi growled, but it cracked and just made it sound like a confession instead of a bad insult.

Paige's fingers curled softly around her wrist, not pulling her, but anchoring her, grounding her. Her smile morphed into something softer as she moved closer, their foreheads brushing together.

“No,” she said quietly, her voice cocky and full of mischief, but something dangerously close to tenderness. "You love me."

Azzi held her stare for a long second, her jaw tight like she was trying to keep something in, but then her face cracked. Not all at once, but just a tiny twitch for a fraction of a second. Her whole body seemed to lull.

“I really fucking do,” she said finally, her voice small.

Paige felt something seize at her own ribs when she heard it. She ducked her head instinctively to press her lips to Azzi's forehead and held them there for a little too long.

“I know,” she whispered into her skin. “Me too.”

Azzi let out a quiet huff and buried her face against Paige's chest, her arms curling around her with something equal parts exasperated and relieved.

Paige let her stay there, silent, holding her like the weight of the world fell as the hustle of the street dulled to a low murmur.

When Azzi finally leaned back, her cheeks were wet. She sniffed a little and wiped at them with the back of her hand. She couldn't meet Paige's eyes.

“Let's go,” she mumbled, taking a step back. “I'm hot. I want food, and you owe me so bad."

Paige just laughed, not even bothering to hide the affection on her face, as she tugged her toward the car by the hand.

“Yeah, baby,” she said and unlocked it with a beep. “I really do.”

They got inside the car, the door closing with a solid thump against the matching sound of heat and chaos that was Dallas. Azzi immediately reached over the center console to grip Paige’s thigh, fingers digging nails deep into the flesh.

Paige just grinned, tossing an arm behind Azzi's headrest as she shifted from the parking spot.

“Hands to yourself,” Paige teased, with just a flick of her eyes to Azzi.

Azzi only dug her fingers in harder.

“You first,” she shot back, eyes daring Paige to make a move.

Paige’s laugh crashed out of her, warm and wrecked and so stupidly fond it hurt.

After a moment of indecision, Paige reached for Azzi's hand. She laced their fingers into one another at the knee, thumb stroking the back as they drove off into the afternoon.

Because she might tease, might torture her a little, but she was still going to take care of her.

She always did.

#paige and azzi #paige x azzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #pazzi fics

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lilirae00 · 8 days ago

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Still Here - Part 3/?

Summary: Paige and Azzi were never official. But they were never nothing, either. Years in the future when they’re both in the WNBA, everything between them still feels unfinished and impossible to ignore. Inspired by the song, “Why Is She Still Here?” By Reneé Rapp.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: angst, cheating storyline but not on each other, sexual references, nothing explicit

a/n: There's a lot of you with very strong feelings about Azzi in this. I get it. But that's the way the story goes. Stay along for the ride. It won't always be smooth, but it'll be worth it.

Masterlist

—

Present Day - Dallas, Texas

It had been almost thirty days since the last time Paige saw her. Almost thirty days since Azzi showed up at her apartment that night apologizing for calling her a friend.

Exactly twenty-eight days since she had allowed her body to forget what her heart had been trying to remember. Since she'd tasted someone else on Azzi’s lips and pretended it didn't wreck her.

She didn't text Azzi. She didn't reach out. Not even after the Lynx dropped their last three games and Azzi looked tight, tired, and tight-lipped in all the highlight clips. Paige hadn't said a single word.

She had been trying to be done with Azzi, trying to erase her from her mind.

And then Chicago happened.

The hit didn’t look all that brutal in real-time, but Paige only remembered it in pieces. A flash of the floor under her feet and then breathlessness. One second she was driving into the paint, and cutting hard through two defenders, and then the next second her feet were in a tangle with another player, her body twisted, and after that everything…tilted.

She vividly remembered the sound of her head hitting the hardwood floor but not the sensation of pain, at least not right away. She just remembered the hollow echo of her skull bouncing on the hardwood like a dropped rock.

Then the spinning came.

The lights above her eyes split into ten separate stars. The lines on the court wouldn’t stay still. And the crowd…God, the crowd was so loud, it was like they were shouting straight into her eardrums.

She tried to sit up and instantly regretted it.

After a trip to the emergency room that confirmed the concussion, she was finally cleared after 24 hours to come home under the strict guidelines of rest only.

Now, two days later, she was still moving as if her body was in slow-motion. The spinning had finally subsided and her balance seemed mostly back to normal, but her head still ached intensely and bright lights still made her flinch.

She spent most of her days in a baggy hoodie, strings pulled tight, with the blinds in her apartment all closed as if she were hiding in a cave. Her teammates would come by and check in, her parents would call every day, and her coaches would text.

Azzi did, too.

Texts came in quietly, one or two a day. Just checking. Just reaching.

But Paige never answered, didn’t even open them. She pretended they weren’t there.

So no, it hadn’t been silence. It had been avoidance.

She had spent the afternoon crumbling into the couch, trying to do anything that didn't require any effort. Her phone was face down on the coffee table. Her entire body felt like it was made out of wet sand, weighty and unstable. Her muscles ached, and she could feel her brain still lagging a half second between thought.

So when she heard a knock, it startled her.

Three, soft raps on the door of her apartment.

She blinked, her heart suddenly beating loud in her ears. Nobody ever knocked. Not without sending a text first.

For a brief moment she thought it might be her mom, or a delivery.

But she knew, deep in her gut.

The knocking started again, and she stood up slowly. Her head rolled slow and lethargic as she stood and padded barefoot to the door. She looked through the peephole in the door.

Her stomach sank.

Azzi stood on the other side, holding the straps of her backpack like she was holding onto something to steady herself.

She looked small, serious even. Like she had already been standing there an unbearable amount of time before knocking. Paige opened the door but didn't say anything. They just stared at one another.

Azzi took a step forward, her eyes glancing over Paige's face. "Are you okay?" she asked softly.

Paige leaned against the frame, as if her bones could not hold her up on their own. She didn't answer.

"I saw the game," Azzi continued. "I saw what happened. I’ve been texting you…"

"I know." Paige's voice was flat. Hoarse.

"You didn't answer."

Paige turned away from the door, walking inside. "I know."

But she didn’t shut the door behind her, so Azzi took the unspoken invitation to follow. The apartment was dark and dimmer than usual. The television was on silently. Dirty dishes piled in the sink. A wet towel was crumpled on the floor next to the couch. An open bottle of Advil also lay next to a mostly empty glass of water.

"You shouldn't be alone," Azzi said softly.

Paige dropped back onto the couch, turning to face Azzi. "You shouldn't be here," she said.

Azzi took another small step toward her. "I needed to see you."

"That doesn't mean you should have come." Paige had no energy left to be sharp. No energy for anything. And still, even just looking at Azzi…at the shape of her silhouette standing in this dark apartment, the familiar smell of her shampoo in the air, it shattered something in her chest.

"I saw you fall," Azzi whispered. "I saw your head hit the floor, and your arms go stiff, and…you just laid there. And then you didn’t text me back and I kept thinking…what if this is the one time you don’t get back up?

Something twisted in Paige's stomach. "I always get back up."

Azzi moved to the edge of the couch, squatting just beside it. "You're not okay."

"No," Paige said, meeting her eyes. "But that's not your job to fix."

Azzi's face cracked. "I’m not here to fix it, I just…God, I didn’t know where else to go."

"That's the thing, Azzi, you have someone at home. You go home."

The air between the two of them thickened. Familiar. Heavy with a longing that still hadn't been spoken. Paige leaned back into the couch, her body aching in too many places. “What do you want from me?” she asked.

Azzi's eyes didn't move off her face, like she was trying to memorize every piece of her. She didn't answer right away. “I just needed to know you’re okay,” she settled on.

Paige sighed, leaning back further against the cushions and folding her arms over her chest. "Well... I'm not," she said flatly. Her voice wasn’t defensive, it wasn’t anything.

Just flat. Just tired.

Azzi swallowed heavily. Her fingers twitched at her side like they were dying to just reach out to Paige, but were afraid of being denied.

“You could’ve called,” Paige said, still not looking straight at her. “You could’ve just called and asked how I was feeling.”

“You wouldn’t have answered.”

Paige didn’t say a word as Azzi moved a little closer to sit next to her on the couch. The pull in the air was still there. It was steady, undeniable, and humming just beneath the surface, like it always was, always had been.

But this time there was something different in Azzi's eyes. Something was shaken loose.

She looked like she hadn't slept in days, like she had recently carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her breathing was uneven. Her shoulders were tense. It looked like she didn't even know how to be still anymore.

She reached out slowly, as if it hurt to lift her hand, before her slender fingers brushed along the side of Paige's face. She slowed again just before her thumb lightly grazed Paige's temple like she was inspecting it for visible wounds.

Her hand trembled before softly settling there, with a tenderness that punched the air right out of Paige's lungs.

No words. Just skin on skin, like Azzi needed to touch or to feel with her own skin that Paige was still there, that she was actually okay.

Azzi's other hand settled on Paige's jaw, with a thumb catching beneath the edge of her cheekbone.

Azzi squinted her brow, but there were no tears and yet, the glossy look was there. The weight of her chest was visibly tight, like she was holding something back.

Something painful.

Not lust. Not want.

Heartbreak.

Love.

Guilt.

Paige's eyes fluttered closed with the quiet care of Azzi's hands. The soft heat of palms. The tenderness of touch.

And then Paige took Azzi’s hand, and pressed it against her chest like she needed her to feel the way her heart was still beating.

“I shouldn’t let you stay,” she whispered. “But I don’t have the energy to fight you tonight.”

Azzi nodded. And somehow, that meant it was alright.

They moved together with a steady slowness that emerged from grief, like they both knew each movement was going to cost them.

There was no rushing. No roughness. Azzi peeled the hoodie from Paige's body and kissed the shape of her shoulder like it was a prayer. Paige pulled her into bed without a word.

It wasn’t sex. It was something quieter. Azzi kissed the outline of any bruise like she wanted to kiss it better, while Paige clung to her like she needed a way to hold herself steady against the vertigo.

They didn’t talk.

Azzi wrapped around her from behind, arm draped across Paige’s middle, warmth heated into the small of her back. And Paige let her.

Because right now, she didn’t have the energy to not let Azzi hold her.

And Azzi… Azzi held on like she’d never let go.

—

The morning arrived in gentle blue tones that barely filled the dark areas of Paige's bedroom. The blinds were still closed, the room cool and quiet, and for several long moments, Paige just laid there and lingered somewhere in the gap between sleep and the pain of waking.

There was still a slight throb of pain in her head. It was like a low, mild rhythm behind her eyes, but that wasn’t what woke her up. It was Azzi's body behind her, not just still but frozen.

Paige didn’t move, she remained quiet and listened. She felt the faint hitch of Azzi's breath, the stiffness of her body. She wasn’t really asleep, she hadn’t been asleep for some time. Paige could tell. She was just lying there, motionless, like any kind of movement might break something.

Paige swallowed against the lump in her throat and spoke softly. "You’re awake," she said.

Azzi's arm adjusted slightly around her waist. "Yeah."

Paige didn’t turn to face Azzi. She just continued to stare straight ahead at the wall, her eyes adjusting to the light leaking around the edges of the curtains.

Azzi’s breath was stuck like she hadn’t meant to say anything. “How’s your head?” she finally asked, her voice hardly a whisper against the quiet of the room.

It was more than a question. It was worry mixed with effort, stretched thin under guilt. It was the sort of care you give when you know you’ve lost the right to ask, but still ask because not asking is worse.

Paige closed her eyes for one second too long. Her chest constricted, her throat caught on the answer that wanted to come out, and she was afraid it would be too much. “Fine,” she said, flat and fast, hoping she could outrun the softness in Azzi’s voice with speed.

Azzi didn’t respond. She just laid there behind her, still and waiting and not pushing or moving, like she was trying to be small inside a feeling that had already gotten too large.

And Paige could feel it. All of it. How Azzi’s arm hadn’t moved. How her breath changed slightly after asking the question.

She wanted to turn over and bury herself in Azzi’s chest. She wanted to let go and feel cared for, held, and safe. But the second she did, if she allowed herself to feel the full weight of Azzi’s worry, she knew she wouldn’t be able to say no to any part of it.

So she looked at the wall and clenched her teeth and felt her heart pounding inside of her, doing everything she could think of to not break apart in the sound of someone still loving her in the dark.

“How are you even here?” Paige asked after a moment. “Don’t you guys have a game in New York this week?”

Azzi paused to respond. "I told the team it was a family emergency. Said I would be back tomorrow."

That made Paige blink. "A family emergency," she repeated.

Azzi's chin grazed her shoulder, while she nodded slightly, as if the movement would disturb the moment. "I had to see you."

Paige finally turned with careful movement rolling to her back, to see better. Azzi's eyes were red and tired, her hair was a mess like she hadn't been to sleep, or at least had not slept much.

"You flew across the country," Paige said softly. "Because I hit my head."

"Because you didn't answer my texts," Azzi corrected, her voice slipping out of control. "Because I couldn't stop thinking about how hard you went down. About how long you laid there. And because I needed to know you were really okay."

Paige let her eyes fall closed for a moment. She didn't want to feel how she felt, like a weight on Azzi's behalf cracked something open inside of her again, something she had recently been desperately trying to keep shut.

When she opened them, Azzi was still looking at her, searching her face like she could uncover something hiding there.

"I don't get it," Paige whispered. "You told me you don't love her. So why do you keep going back to her? Why is she the one you wake up next to when I'm the one you’ll fly halfway across the country for?"

Azzi sat up slowly and pushed herself to sit up against the headboard. She dragged a hand slowly down her face, like if she did it slowly, it would help ease the tension. She sighed and said, "Because you feel like home."

Paige's chest tightened.

"I don't…" Azzi drew in a breath, paused, and switched gears. "I don't know how to explain it. Emma is... good. She's good to be around. She listens. She’s calm. It’s not a war every time I walk into the room.”

Paige flinched. "And that’s what I am? a war?"

Azzi quickly shook her head, "No. No, that’s not what I mean." She was leaning forward now, her voice low, but urgent. "With you, it’s just... deeper. And it’s been like that from the very beginning. I have never figured out how to stop feeling so much with you."

Paige was staring at her now, eyes full of fire. "Then why don't you just stay?"

"Because you scare the crap out of me," Azzi said, barely above a whisper. "Because when I’m with you, it’s too real. Always has been. You know me in ways that no one does. You actually see me and that has never been easy."

Paige looked at the sheets, bunched up like her life, in her lap. "So, what…Emma is just easier to love?"

Azzi held her breath. "No. She’s just... easier to leave."

Paige blinked at Azzi, confused. "What does that even mean?"

Azzi hesitated, her eyes searching the ceiling as if the words would be there, "I mean... if I lose Emma, it will hurt. Of course it will hurt, because she’s safe. She doesn't ask for those parts of me that I don't want to give. But I’d get through it. I would eventually move on.”

She turned her head to look at Paige, finally. Her voice barely audible as it quivered, "But you? If I ever had you, like really had you and then lost you…I…I wouldn’t be able to survive that."

Paige's breath caught. She looked at Azzi, really looked at her. The face she knew better than her own. The girl who always had the power to break her, and keep breaking her into tiny pieces.

She swallowed hard. "Did it ever cross your mind that leaving could ruin me too?" Her voice cracked in a dry and unforgiving way, "That every time you go back to her, you take a little more of me?"

Azzi flinched again, but Paige was not done. "Did you ever think for one second, that maybe, my heart isn't built to bounce back either? Or were your feelings the only ones that mattered?"

Azzi was looking at her without looking away, but Paige could see the tears now. Thick, all on the edges, unspilled because they wouldn't fall unless Paige made them fall.

"I think about it all the time." Azzi whispered, "I know what I'm doing. I know what it’s doing to you. But every time I try to stop showing up here and wanting you….I can't, Paige. I miss you like I miss oxygen. And when I see you, it’s like my body remembers how to breathe again."

She reached out to touch Paige's face, but stopped herself and pulled back a little more than halfway there.

Paige was looking at her, something sharp twisting behind her eyes. "And then you go home to someone else,” she said softly. "You let me carry the weight of it while you crawl into a bed with someone who thinks you're hers."

Azzi flinched.

"You know what that makes you?" Paige asked, almost under her breath. "It makes you a shitty person."

Azzi blinked, as if she had been slapped.

"You continue to show up here, needing me, touching me, saying that you care, only to go home to someone else like none of it means anything. That's not fair, and it’s not okay."

Azzi's voice cracked open. "I'm so fucking scared, Paige."

Paige blinked.

"Of choosing," Azzi continued, almost desperate. "Of choosing you and somehow messing it up and losing you anyway. Because I don’t even know how I’d survive that."

Paige stared at her, heart beating slow and heavy like it was sinking and settling into mud. The room felt small, too small really, for all the feelings that were pushing at her ribs. “I love you," she said, and the words felt like submission.

Not whispered in a haze of sex or in those precious moments of peace with sheets rolled up underneath them. It was said like a truth that had been eating her alive for years. "I have loved you for so long that I don’t even know who I would be without it, Azzi."

Azzi's lips parted as if she might say it back. Paige could see it there, on the tip of her tongue. There, in that teardrop hanging off her lashes.

But she didn’t say it. And there was something in Paige that just broke.

Her head began to throb again, sharp and insistent. She did still technically have a concussion, still had difficulty with her balance, her focus, and the ability to endure this kind of pain without breaking.

Finally she stood up, slowly, her legs shaky under her as she reached for the sweatshirt she'd tossed over the back of a chair the night before. The fabric felt heavier than it should have, as if even her clothes were tired of holding this.

Her voice, when she found it, was quiet, but sharp enough to cut both of them. "Don't come back."

Azzi flinched, her eyes wide. "Paige…"

"Not until you can choose me," Paige said, her tone strong even though her fingers shook at her sides. She held Azzi's gaze like it physically hurt to.

"You don't get to have both. You don't get to have someone safe waiting for you at home who cheers for you, who fits into the life you built, then come to me to actually feel something."

Azzi's mouth opened like she might respond, but Paige wouldn’t let her.

"I make you feel. I know that and you know that. But I’m not some secret you get to come back to when it’s convenient for you, or when you’re scared or lonely or looking for proof that your heart still works."

She swallowed, her breath unsteady. "If it’s her, fine. At least that’s a choice. But if it’s me, Azzi... it has to actually be me.”

Azzi remained silent, but the silence between them spoke volumes. Something twisted in her face that she could never say. Hurt, guilt, longing. Maybe all three.

She bent down to pick up her clothes from the floor, deliberately and slow, as if every second made her limbs heavier. She hooked her bra backward with shaking fingers. She pushed her tank top over her head, and pulled on her shorts. She grabbed her bag from the corner of the room and stared at it like it could convince her to stay.

Paige didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Azzi paused at the door.

Once she looked back, her eyes glossed over with all the feelings she didn’t have the voice to say. Then she turned.

The door didn’t slam shut. It clicked, gently. Like the end of a chapter neither of them were ready for.

And Paige sat silently, looking at the space in the doorway, hearing the sound of the door closing as an empty echo in her chest like something breaking apart.

Not because Azzi left.

But because this time, Paige told her to.

—

Three weeks. That’s how long it had been since she told Azzi to leave and actually meant it.

Since then, Paige went back to practice. She iced her neck. She took her vitamins and did her post concussion protocol check-ins each day, without fail.

She smiled at her teammates, she laughed at the jokes in the locker room, and she fought to get her rhythm back on the court, as if everything inside her wasn’t falling apart.

And tonight, it paid off.

Dallas had just sealed a spot in the playoffs after defeating the Valkyries. It was hard-fought, physical, and the kind of game that made reporters crowd a little closer during the postgame presser. Paige walked away with 32 points, 8 rebounds, 12 assists, and 3 blocks.

The lights in the media room were bright, but Paige blinked through trying to ground herself. She shifted in her seat with a white towel looped around her neck, and a ponytail that was starting to fall loose from sweat and pressure.

The win felt good. It really did.

But she didn’t feel it the same as she used to.

“Paige, how’s your head?” Some voice called from the front row.

She nodded once, sharply. “Good. No lingering symptoms. Just thankful for clearance and the opportunity to be out there.”

Another hand shot up. “That block in the fourth, you looked like you had some kind of incentive. Was that from the game or something more personal?”

A flicker of a smile. “Every time I step on a floor, I have a reason to win. So that’s not a surprise.”

Polite laughter buzzed throughout the room.

Another question came, softer. “It’s been a tough road for you this year. Injuries. Recovery. And, some noise off the court about your rookie contract ending. What has been the hardest part for you, emotionally?”

That she wasn’t expecting.

Paige blinked, her eyes judging the large room, with so many faces, so many lights.

So many things she couldn’t say.

She swallowed hard, pulling her fingers away from the microphone as they twitched in the space of its grip. "I think..." she started, but paused. Her voice sounded raspy. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I think the hardest part has been the quiet."

The room stilled, with no one stepping in.

"I've had to sit with a lot of things this season," Paige said, her voice low with thoughtfulness. "A lot of... moments that I thought were going to mean something. People I thought I could trust. And then, when those people are gone, you realize how loud the quiet really is."

A beat passed.

Then the words came out before she could stop them.

"I guess I'm just tired of being a ghost in someone else's story."

The air snapped. A soft murmur passed through the room. Pens were being scratched against pages, phones were being lifted into the air, but Paige didn’t flinch.

She only sat there staring at the mic like somehow it would absorb the unintentional confession. She gave them a tight smile, nothing more than an acknowledgement, and leaned back against her chair.

The PR rep interjected. "Okay, that's all for today. Thanks, Paige."

She stood, the scraping of chairs arose behind her like the push of a wave. Cameras flashed, and voices started to chase after her name along with it. But Paige didn’t look back.

In the locker room, she sat on the bench long after the others had showered and left. Her phone buzzed with notifications, mentions, retweets, texts she wouldn’t open. She tossed it facedown into her bag.

She meant what she said, every single word.

She just hadn’t meant for Azzi to hear it too.

But she probably would.

And that was the part that made her chest ache.

#pazzi #pazzi fics #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #paige and azzi

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