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》 Alexia Putellas x Reader (past), María León x Reader (platonic), Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic)
》 words count: +1.5k
》 what you don't know won't hurt you, oh / Mama, I'll lie, just for you
As soon as your phone lights up with a Facetime call, you know.
No warning message, no text just to make sure you’re free to talk. A cold Facetime request from María, one of your best friends but definitely someone who means trouble if calling like that.
Launching yourself on your sofa unceremoniously, you accept the call and your fate as Mapi’s grin appears on your broken screen. How can she be so smug even miles away goes beyond you.
“Who died?”
Not the most warm way to start a conversation.
“Hola a ti también, nena” (Hello to you too)
“You look awful”
She looks amazing, she’s practically glowing and you’re happy for her.
Also, you’re happy for yourself too. It’s a relief this is not the scolding call you’ve been waiting for quite some time. It’s coming, you can feel it, but Ingrid enters the frame and you immediately know this is good news.
“Tienes que ser buena conmigo” (You should be nicer to me)
Mapi really isn’t the type to tiptoe around something so you don’t get why she didn’t start this conversation by screaming the news. Or making the journey and knocking on your door directly.
You let her be, she probably wants to enjoy it.
“Why should I? I moved to another country just to avoid it”
“Nena”, she pauses and her smile dims for a moment.
She knows English better than she lets everyone believe, so she gets the quip - or your attempt to joke about it. You’re not sure if it’s because of what you said or something else entirely, the two of you have yet to talk about the reason why you’re single and in another country.
Your transfer was eventful, to say at least. The faded blonde didn’t handle it very well, having taken you under her wing when you first moved from a mid-table club in your home country to Barcelona Femení - after a couple of years on a loan in different leagues too.
María’s the one who welcomed you in the locker room with rapid words and contagious enthusiasm. She kept talking with you in Spanish, even if you needed an entire year to be able to hold a simple conversation in your third language, but she’s someone you relied on since the very beginning.
María’s also the first one to realise something was growing between you and Alexia, the first - and the loudest - to cheer when you mindlessly kissed in front of the team mid night out, the first one to give you both a shovel talk.
Sometimes it’s way too easy to forget how many people you can hurt with a decision that’s just your own to make.
You feel the need to take the conversation back on track.
“When is the wedding?”
“¿Quién te lo dijo?!” (Who told you?!)
“Your stupid face”, thankfully the Spaniard gets her brightness back at your words, “And I can see that huge rock even from here!”
Ingrid is matching a beaming smile, moving her hand closer to the camera and you can’t hold back your own joy. They truly deserve the devotion and support they share with one another. If you have to be happy for someone else’s love, you’re glad it’s for them.
And that ring is impressive.
The memory of a beautiful ring hidden in a shoe box in the back of a closet makes you shiver. Is it still there or she got rid of it as first thing after dropping you off at the airport? Does Mapi know about it?
“Show off, that’s worth my value”
“Tonterías!, no eres tan buena” (Bullshit, you’re not even that good!)
“You are, she’s just too proud to admit it”, at Ingrid’s first words you immediately remember why lately she’s the one you like the most of the two.
“Haz la maleta y no quiero excusas, volverás aquí” (Pack you beg and no excuses, you’re coming back here)
Mapi’s witty remark is not missed, she saw you growing up and developing your very own unhealthy coping mechanism. Maybe you have a tendency to avoid confrontation, what about that? She goes for any adrenalin rush activity available when in denial so she’s not in the position to judge.
You shift uncomfortably under their gazes, sitting upright but hitting the back of the sofa with your head.
You may be in a different country and there may be a screen between you and the pair, but María is still like a big sister to you and the other girl is basically the only reason you’re still sane and survived throughout your friendship with the Spaniard.
However, you can’t let them know how broken you are, not when you regret nothing that led to this.
“Why not Norway?”, worth a shot.
“We’re basically going to celebrate in any corner of the world, I don’t think you can miss this”
“Then I can be anywhere else, Ingrid”
“Mapi’s family is gonna be here”, and you’re her family too it’s what she’s too considerate to say aloud but you all hear anyway.
“I don’t think is a good idea, no one want me there”
“That’s not true”
“Nena, por favor!”
The silence is deafening, when you find the gut to look at your friends it’s easy to remember the love, the support, and respect that bond your relationships.
A transfer to another country, all the attempts to hide from the consequences of your own choices, the hearts broken. None of those things are really able to cut those kinds of connections.
“I’m happy for you two”, you say with the biggest and most sincere smile in a while.
Mapi accepts your decision to keep the conversation light, focusing on this happy and long awaited news.
She’s glowing and you really are happy for her, for them. The desire to celebrate their love, to be there when they will share such pure joy with all the people they care about, sweeps away your fears of being confronted by the human form of the consequences of your own choices.
When the call ends, the usual weight you feel between your ribs doesn’t make your breathing heavier and the familiar bitter taste of guilt doesn’t pervade your mouth.
You book a ticket to Barcelona before it all comes back to you.
~
“Mapi and Ingrid are getting married”
“It’s a plague!”
Leah is unlacing her boots, the two of you the last ones in the changing room after an additional training session the blonde insisted you needed.
You’re playing in a slightly different position here, but you feel like those extra hours are more for her sake than your own, scared that you will find a way to avoid your new teammates if not involved in any possible activity.
You indulge her, you’re used to demanding and perfectionist captains after all.
“I have to go back to Barcelona”
“I bet, she’s gonna drag you there personally otherwise”
“María is not that―”
“I’m talking about Engen”, she smirks and she is right, Ingrid is way more effective in her convincing methods.
Still sitting on the bench in your training gear, you let her understand you’re not ready to leave yet. Not the room nor the conversation.
“What’s the problem, trotter?”
She managed to give you the worst nickname possible, making fun both of your way to run on the pitch and the fact you spent the past ten years in five different countries - it’s probably also a quip about the circumstances that bring you here but you give her the benefit of the doubt.
“No problem at all, I’m happy for them”
“They’re really cute”
“They are”, you miss them.
You miss the familiar embrace and the easy banter you share with María, you miss the warm support and the nights out with Ingrid, you miss the silence and the comforting methods Keira always found to take your homesickness away, you miss the funny and the cheerful attitude you wrap yourself around with Jana, Claudia and Ona. You miss them all.
You miss Alexia.
You miss how she always finds time to walk her dog out, doesn’t matter the weather or her busy schedule. You miss the subtle way she turns the radio’ volume up when a song she knows you like is on, and the not-so-subtle way she pretends to hate them all just to sing with you on the first chorus. You miss her body fitting perfectly all over your life, when moving in your house like it’s built around her, or when she’s ideally positioned on the pitch to receive your pass, or even when her hands find yours despite everything and everywhere you are.
You miss Alexia but you don’t deserve to grieve something you killed yourself.
“Do you need a pep talk from Kim?”
“Don’t you dare!”
Last time Leah called on your team captain to put up with your somber mood, you ended on the bench for two games yet sent her a nice bouquet as an apology - and as a thanks for the help.
“Look, you can’t hide from her forever”
“I can definitely try”
The smile she directs to you is both amused and bushed.
“I just don’t think our closest friend’s wedding is the best occasion to meet her for the first time after… well, after everything”, you admit while repeatedly hitting the changing room’s wall with the back of your head.
“Maybe not, maybe we will have to face them in the next Champion League’s draw”
She jinxed it.
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