#seasonal colour analysis

[thebloodydamnraven]

This is for people who struggle with personal style and building a wardrobe and stuff like that, because I struggled with it, too:

Determine what you like. Look up various styles: goth, grunge, preppy, casual, tomboy, etc. Mix styles if that's your thing.

If you can't determine what you like (me, too), go create a Pinterest board. Add outfits you like to it, eventually you'll see a common theme. That's your key.

After you figure out your main theme, pay attention to the pieces in its outfits. Chances are, you'll find that there are several pieces that keep recurring, these are your building blocks. These pieces can be as specific as a black Converse, for example, or as general as a-line skirts.

Determine your seasonal colour type. This is a guideline for colours that suit you, you can always play around with it. If you are a person of colour, like me, type 'seasonal colour analysis for people of colour' into the search bar. Most sites deal with the system for white people, and mistype POC into autumn or winter palettes.

Decide a number of colours for your main colours, and a number for neutrals. Build your wardrobe around those colours, and don't stray from them. This is how you get a wardrobe full of pieces that can compliment each other, and that can mix around too create several outfits instead of a certain few that you can't change anything about. This is also how you manage to have a wardrobe full of pieces that all look great on you.

Figure out your body shape and how to flatter it.

You can also look into the Kibbe and Kitchener systems.

Avoid following trends. Please.

After all of this, you'll have an understanding of the style you like, but, for further personalization:

Determine your favourite perfume type. Do you like them sugary and sweet? Spicy? Go to a perfume shop, try a few ones and figure out what you like most.

What sort of accessories do you like? Watches can look elegant and classy, if you want to go for that. Rings can be classy or edgy. Do you like necklaces? Figure it out. You don't have to wear all sorts of accessories. I personally don't like watches and bracelets, so I avoid them when shopping. Balance the impression you'd like to give, with what you actually find comfortable and practical.

Bags. Apply the same process as above.

Makeup too.

Accessories can accent your look. Maybe you like to dress casual, but you want a sprinkle of edginess as well, so play with belts and chains and boots. Apply that everywhere.

Play with all of this, and the personal impression you want to give, and you get a personal aesthetic style, and an actually functional wardrobe.

[silvandar]

Some interesting (and body positive) reading for people trying to figure out colours and clothes.

https://theconceptwardrobe.com/colour-analysis-comprehensive-guides/what-is-seasonal-colour-analysis

https://theconceptwardrobe.com/kibbe-body-types/an-introduction-to-the-kibbe-body-types

And a little video on how to break the "rules" of fashion theory and create an alt look that still plays to your strengths 🖤☠️

https://youtu.be/3oY7lCsXzv0

Useful for styling yourself, your alternative personas, your loved ones, and your fictional characters!

[betweensunflowersanddaffodils]

So, I personally know little about seasonal colour analysis but the other day I was wondering which season Caitlin could be and someone replied to me saying she is a light summer and you know what? I CAN SEE IT! It makes so much sense. How many times I said that pink is her colour? lol And the blue Cinderella dress was pure perfection on her. 😍

[omar-rudeberg]

ok but the way they've been on again off again for three seasons specifically shrouded in the colours of the swedish flag - showing us the monarchy has intruded on their relationship. even the good, even the private, and always, always the bad and the ugly.

💙💛

makes this white flag moment of surrender even more powerful. they're stripped of this blue and gold brushed over them by society, colourless and allowed to create their own existence - together, a blank slate. themselves, again and only - forever.

🤍🤍

[redrocketpanda]

From the person who brought you unhinged JJK S2 fish discourse, please accept my humble new offering: me holding up images whilst screaming ferally at you: did ya see?! did ya see what they did with the colour symbolism in episode 4 and what it Means?! Well dw cause I'm here to serve you a heinously long meta-analysis regardless. This episode has completely undone me and I need to give you a blow by blow account of why

I want to go in depth about the final scene of e4 bc that's really what set the cogs whirring in my mind, but let's start with the following image bc it exemplifies everything, not just in terms of the colour symbolism but of the heartbreaking changing relationship of stsg

Throughout the previous episodes and opening/credits of S2 we have been made to associate the colour blue + lightness with Gojo and the colour red + darkness with Geto. The sparkling blue eyes and stark white hair of Gojo, his Limitless: Blue technique, the white fish, the way he is often shown standing/walking in the light, turned to face Geto versus the black hair + dark eyes of Geto, the black fish, shown standing/walking in the shadows, turned away from Gojo (etc etc)

Yet the final scene of e4 flips this on its head and what this Means is, quite frankly, soul destroying

We join Geto as he walks along a dark, narrow corridor flooded with red light until he reaches heavy doors. He's confronted with his own image, reflecting back at him, before using both hands to prise open the door. When he steps into the bright white light of a high-ceilinged room, his face falls as Gojo emerges like a messianic figure from the applauding crowd, carrying the shrouded corpse of Riko (side note: god I have a lot of thoughts on Gojo as a messianic figure but I'll save that for another time)

Gojo approaches Geto with his head bowed (whereas usually he is always looking up at Geto) and the moment Geto lays eyes on Gojo he knows something is wrong (similarly to Toji earlier in the episode). He barely seems to recognise Gojo and though Gojo's eyes still sparkle with their bright blue infinity, his expression is dull and lifeless. Geto asks disbelievingly in a way that stabs me right through the heart: "Satoru. Is that you?"

At the start of the conversation, the camera pans from Gojo on the left to Geto on the right and is shot from below in a way that emphasises the growing cavernous expanse between them

But it's what happens in the following moments that's really the killer

Gojo states that he fucked up and that everything that has happened is therefore his fault. Geto tells Gojo "let's head back" (I read this both as: let's head back home and as an indication that Geto wants things to go back to how they were). The camera then cuts to Gojo's mouth as he asks flatly - "Suguru, should we kill these guys?" - and then zooms out as he continues - "The way I feel right now, I doubt I'd feel anything about it." The camera zooms out, showing Gojo standing in front of the applauding crowd, holding Riko's body and continues to draw back, making Gojo seem as if he's getting further and further away from Geto, as well as from us, whilst his eyes glow ethereally

I want to do a separate post about what happens with Geto, Gojo + their relationship in episode 5 but I do also want to point out here: this is the scene that Geto experiences invasive flashbacks of in the following ep. It's the moment that he realizes that he's lost Gojo, that Gojo is now fundamentally different in a way that Geto doesn't recognise or understand, that Gojo is far beyond his reach

As Gojo walks past a motionless Geto, away from the light and into the darkness, we cut to Geto's downcast eyes, pupils dilating wildly as though he's in shock/about to cry (this harkens back to the fish, the way that Geto can no longer bear to look at the white fish as it swims past). We are then left with Geto standing in the bright blue-white light telling Gojo that there's "no point" in killing them, whilst Gojo replies in the darkened, red corridor "does there really need to be any point to it?"

Gojo is a broken man, a complete shell of who he once was and this scene demonstrates Gojo's transition as he turns away from Geto. The colour symbolism, though, is present throughout the earlier parts of the episode and beautifully illustrates how we arrive at this exact moment (as well lays the foundations for what comes next)

Let's return to our blue/red colour theory bc there's a lot going on here during this episode!

E4 starts on a banger: we're cruelly given a recap of Toji telling Geto that he killed Gojo and then within the space of about 7 minutes, Geto too has been killed. It's tragic and sad and none of us want to be reminded of it but I'm going to (srysrysry) because hey, check out what's going on. Notice the cool blue tint of Geto's "death" versus the vivid red of Gojo's? (a horrible eg I know but you should've heard my scream when I caught onto it)

And here's another cool example that had me ajdjsksjdk bc ofc I clocked Gojo using his red technique, but look at the blue glow around Geto's hand?! I don't recall seeing it being used for Geto before (correct me if I'm wrong) so it's interesting to see it being used here, plus us seeing Gojo using Red properly for the first time

Let's just pause here for a moment bc this is a hugely important moment for Gojo's character arc and the fight with Toji gives us an incredible colour theory moment

In the previous episodes, we've seen Gojo being able to easily use his Limitless Blue technique but remember how, in E2 Gojo tried to use Red and hilariously fucks it up announcing "I failed" and resorts to punching the bad guy instead? It isn't until this episode, after Gojo has used reverse cursed technique whilst on the verge of death to heal himself (idk if heal is the right word) that he is able to learn to use Cursed Technique Reversal: Red

We have this really beautiful animation sequence during Gojo's fight with Toji. A blue and a red droplet swirl around each other and then splash together to reveal a swirling rotation of blue and red rippling water. The colours converge, red droplet slipping into blue water, blue droplet into red. The droplets come together to form the shining purple infinity plucked between Gojo's fingers, granting him the "Hollow Purple" technique that allows him to blow a hole through Toji.

Gojo explains:

"Reverse cursed technique uses negative energy. While it can enhance the body, it can't regenerate it. Multiply that negative energy against itself to create positive energy... Take the amplified and the reversal, then smash together those two different expressions of infinity to create and push out imaginary mass."

Gojo + Geto, amplified + reversal = two different expressions of infinity -> create / push out

Toji "killing" Gojo was the moment that set Gojo on a different path, which allowed him to evolve beyond belief and causes him to ascend to, what he believes is, divinity. He takes the basics of Blue and Red (primary colours; Gojo and Geto) and mixes them together to create something new, something transcendent, something that surpasses who he (and Geto) were before. He becomes an unstoppable power that far surpasses everyone else, and this is what Geto recognizes: that Gojo has evolved without him (which we know from E5 has huge consequences for Geto's thinking)

And so now, finally, let us return to Geto at the end of E4

After Gojo asks Geto "does there really need to be any point to it?" (killing), the camera flashes quickly between the applauding audience and Geto's empty hand, which he then clenches into a tight fist. He raises his downcast eyes to look forwards (resolutely, looking into the future) and responds: "it's very important there is..."

We're left with the image of Gojo standing on a blue floor, surrounded by the clapping crowd. The floor wavers as an all consuming darkness pulses beneath him, locating Geto as it's central point as it surges out towards the crowd "...especially for a jujutsu sorcerer."

We're reminded of the conversation where Geto and Gojo almost come to blows whilst playing basketball in E1. Geto's argument that jujutsu sorcerers exist to protect non-jujutsu sorcerers whilst Gojo complains about having to protect "the weak" + patronisingly tells Geto to get off of his moral high horse.

Now we witness the extent of Gojo's apathy in action, as he pulls away from everything and everyone, and the swinging of Geto's moral compass from protection to genocide as he's left behind in the ruins of all that once was, of everything and everyone that he loved

[amarriageoftrueminds]

current addiction: doing colour season palettes for my blorbos

I was most surprised by Will's result, because of his blue eyes. But then again, they are a greenish-blue, with no limbal rings, and heterochromic/with some brown in, too -- so no wonder his undertone is soft and warm… 🤷‍♀️

[ladystanbury]

This is probably beyond niche BUT I want to talk about the colour palette that it has been said they’re using for Kate in season 3 of Bridgerton.

Now I’ve seen some people unhappy with the description of the colours she wears as inspired by “spices”. I’m gonna leave that to the desi women to speak to.

But purely aesthetically and from a story point of view these earthy tones are not the best colours on Simone Ashley. Like objectively speaking. She’s obviously incredibly beautiful but as a story arch it’s clear they’re trying to emphasise her beauty. So why? In what world are costume designers ignoring all a person’s best colours?! It drives me nuts. Especially since colour analysis is a LITERAL PLOT POINT across two Bridgerton books! Cool jewel tones are pure magic on Simone Ashley so wtf aren’t we getting them?!

[probablyaseamonster]

A Small Thing About Andrias

I used to think that Andrias’s coming out scene in True Colours was a little hammy, especially because I didn’t take him for a guy who (somehow) didn’t realize that colonization was evil.

But then I tried to look at it through a different lens, and I realized that to him, Andrias had been faking a jolly happy attitude for the second half of season 2 and presumably decades longer, seeing as he was able to convince even elderly amphibians that he was a good king.

This was retconned in season 3 as he continued to be a silly guy (the gamer episode for example), but we could see that in the scenes that he was being villainous in pre-season 2 finale, he seemed quiet, manipulative, menacing even. A true chessmaster villain, with the most careless expression on his face as he convinced Marcy to betray Anne.

His face when Anne finally gave him the fully-charged charged music box... that was the face of a man that was barely holding back his glee.

And then he finally attached the magic to the city, and he had finally made up for his childhood mistake. Newtopia was, in his own words, “truly great” again, or at least it was capable of becoming that. The palace was levitating above the ground, the central cannon armed with enough firepower to blew up the greatest hall of the toads, an army of newly-constructed robots capable of tearing metal apart buzzing over the city like flies, the box minutes away from opening up a portal to the first world they’d conquer in hundreds of years. Andrias was making his father proud.

The great toad rebellion that had ended just shy of an hour ago seemed pitiful now. They had thought that the King could simply be subdued, that the city could simply be swarmed. No, Newtopia was literally above that. There was nothing the toads could do about it. Nothing the frogs, or even the other newts could do about it, if they chose to rebel.

Andrias had no reason to play nice anymore.

So when he began to laugh, to crack jokes, to play with Marcy’s feelings and tear the girl’s friendship apart, that was all brought about by the King’s sheer euphoria. He had been holding back all his dark sides, pretending to be a kindhearted buffoon for generations, to lull the world into a sense of security, of trust in the monarchy. And it had finally paid off. He laughed because he had atoned. Because he’d achieved. Because he no longer had to hide. Because he could finally be himself, in all his darkness.

And if he sounded a bit evil while celebrating, he didn’t care. Because this whole scene was him finally cracking his facade, letting his true colours finally shine through.

[mchiti]

the thing with hakim at napoli is that I don't want him to wear blue anymore 😂😂 first world problems I know

he looks incredible sis what are you on about

[bugsbenefit]

all the analysis on colourcoding in stranger things I’ve seen here is so awesome. but while looking at the insane details put into things like bg lighting etc i also don’t want to loose track of the bigger picture, because there is colour coding so Blatant in the show that my GA family picked up on it.

the idea that costume design has deeper meaning in st has already been confirmed. all the costumes are handmade, details, colours, all deliberately chosen. I’ve seen people speculate that the colour someone is wearing reflects who the character is focused on for years. there have been a lot of moments where this seems to be heavily supported by the show but I’ve not seen a more direct example of it than Will’s wardrobe in s4.

I’m sure a lot of people noticed but I just want to point this out again, because it really is so on the nose:

start of the season. it’s just the Byers (and EL <3) in California. Will wears red, yellow, and white. his jeans are light blue but are so washed out the colour doesn’t stand out anymore, basically gray. El has been associated with pink/purple and variations of it throughout the show. here she wears red. Will is spending the episode supporting her, which we learn he does a lot in Cali. Will’s clothing choice is aligning him with El here to reflect that, they really do look like a sibling duo.

now This is where it gets interesting. Mike shows up to Cali, who Will is in love with and incredibly excited to see again. so Will wears blue. literally just blue. no other colour, his pants are white gray. it’s really uncommon on the show for a character to only wear a single colour, especially if it’s not their own colour (yellow for Will). but oh well. his focus IS solely on Mike here so it makes sense. he wears this for the airport and Rink O Mania scenes.

after the disappointment of the last day he reigns it back in again. still very blue (ha literally, poor guy) since his jeans also are a more noticeable blue than in the first episode. but the yellow, white and a single streak of red are back.

and for the rest of the season he wears this. which. actually crazy of him. again, neutral beige-ish pants. yellow shirt, his own colour. but then he comes back in with the blue. and it’s not just any blue. it’s the exact same shade of teal Mike is wearing. he really colourpicked the exact hue of the shirt Mike put on and said wait let me get in on that too (not exaggerating btw, in the scenes with sunlight you can see it’s the exact same colour).

TLDR: there’s many instances proving that clothing colours correlate with character focus and intention... and it has never been as blatantly on the nose as with Will in season 4, they really went all in here.

I have some things to say about Mike’s (will link in a few hours when i get to writing it) costume design here too. we know Will loves and supports El and is in love with Mike, so his wardrobe just solidifies this. with Mike it’s a bit more interesting, since we don’t see his thoughts or motivations this season and get his clothing choices presented without context.

[metronn]

if you are interested in reading about stargate + racism and colonialism, may i suggest decolonizing stargate (parts one and two) by mame bougouma diene. these are two short columns published in the online magazine strange horizons - not particularly academically-oriented language, easy to understand, free to read, and a summary of a lot of the issues with white saviourism in the show.

[councilhouseandviolets]

This works! I'm a Soft Autumn.

[lexapenndari]

Drinking in these luscious, Dark Autumn colours 🍂 🍁 😍

… these were originally pinned by my colour analyst.

[rosettyller]

some analysis of this scene from 2x02, because i am going absolutely insane over it:

first up: it's 2 500 BCE. They've known each other for around 1500 years at this point, but they haven't been meeting up very often; it's implied at this point, that they've only met at the Garden, and the Flood, and now here (as well as in Heaven, but there's varying interpretations about how much they each remember of Heaven).

(worth noting that these meetings are all bible-related meetings)

So, they don't know each other very well at all. This is why Aziraphale approaches Crowley so cautiously (apart from the fact that he thinks Crowley's going around murdering goats and soon kids). He doesn't know what happened to Crowley when he Fell, how he changed when he fell in with Lucifer, how God's rejection has warped Crowley's perspective or changed his morals (their meeting at the Flood seemed quite short, not enough time to get a definite picture.)

Aziraphale is still seeing Crowley as demonic, although there's already that thread of doubt - can you really see him trying to talk Hastur or Ligur out of this the way he does Crowley?

Aziraphale clings to the memory of Angel Crowley - Crowley gets quite defensive.

Here, Crowley reinforces that he's changed - personally I don't believe that he did fight in the War, but his views of God's Plan definitely got more extreme than "thats terrible god should get a suggestion box".

But, I also believe that here, Crowley is reinforcing that he is no longer an angel, and therefore no longer has to play by angel rules. He can do what he wants. He's a demon, it's in his job description.

And of course, that he is a demon, and he is Evil, and of course he would kill goats.

(more under the cut, because I just can't stop talking)

This shot is very yellow. Crowley's hair being the season 1 orange rather than red, the yellow walls, all accentuate the colour of Crowley's eyes, highlighting the physical reminder of Crowley's demonic nature.

I couldn't be bothered to gif it, but here, Crowley leans forward into Aziraphale's face. There are two reasons for this:

Get his yellow Demon Eyes right in Aziraphale face, just to hammer home his point.

It's an aggressive action, moving into someone's personal space like that. Saying, I could hurt you, I'm violent and aggressive and dangerous, I killed those goats, the kids are next.

The way the light hits Crowley's eyes in the above shot and the below shot also make them a very bright yellow. (Edit: I think someone pointed out that Crowley is making his eyes glow, but the overall yellowness of the scene serves to highlight this)

Clever wording on Crowley's part, because as we will find out, he faked the destruction of the goats to keep them safe, while making himself sound very evil.

You'll notice the repetition of "blameless"; this makes him seem even more evil, hurting the innocent, but also gives deeper insight into one of Crowley's biggest issues: hurting the innocent. What have they done to deserve this? Nothing.

This ties in quite nicely with what we have seen before of Crowley and free will; he gives people the option to sin. It's their actions that decide whether they end up in Heaven or Hell; they get what they deserve for their actions. He just makes it easier to choose Hell. (see: phone lines being down making people crankier and encouraging them to be horrible to each other, but it still being their choice, setting the holy water bucket above the door, so it's Ligur's choice to come in after Crowley that gets him killed.)

Note also the use of "long":

Aziraphale says to "tell me you want to do this". "Long" has rather stronger connotations than "want", but also rawer, more fundamental. Crowley is reminding Aziraphale that he is a demon, and that he has the traits of a demon, this is what he is now. He longs for violence, for destruction.

Aziraphale looks quite sad here. If you watch the video I linked, his previous conviction that Crowley doesn't want to do it is very strong. He fully believes in Crowley, that all he needs to do is reframe not killing the kids as within the rules of Hell, the way Crowley so often comes to do for Aziraphale ("Then you can't be certain that thwarting me isn't part of the divine plan too. I mean, you're supposed to thwart the wiles of the Evil One at every turn, aren't you?" "If you put it that way, Heaven couldn't actually mind me thwarting you.").

Aziraphale believed Crowley was still good, that the angel he remembered was still in there. But Crowley rejects it - and it hurts. Crowley has become what a demon should be.

Crowley looks quite sorrowful here, too: he already cares for Aziraphale (he fell in love at the Garden), and it hurts to decieve him, to disappoint him, to hurt him.

I would argue that here, Crowley is scared.

He's in shadow, which dims the yellows; his undemonic nature is about to be revealed.

And that is not safe, because Hell does not send rude notes. And here, Crowley is not doing just any temptation, but trying to help Satan win a bet (supposedly). And out of every demon in Hell, Satan is the one you want to piss off the least.

But here, Crowley is scared because Aziraphale could reveal him - because Aziraphale is on God's side, and because it is revealed that Crowley is not nearly as demonic as he makes himself out to be. He's vulnerable. Aziraphale could scorn him, hurt him. But instead:

Aziraphale is incredibly smug. "I knew I was right", he says. "I knew you were still good".

And here is another issue: Aziraphale conflates God/Heaven/angels with good, and demons/Hell with bad.

And Crowley does not see Heaven as good. He doesn't want Aziraphale to see his angelic core past the demonic exterior. He's on his own side.

This, for Aziraphale, confirms that "the angel you knew is not me", is not correct.

And I think, out of the three minisodes, it's this one that does the most for fleshing out Aziraphale and Crowley's frames of mind this series, and why they choose what they choose in ep6.

Aziraphale has been proven right about Crowley's angelic nature, and that he wants to do good, but can't, for fear of Hell's retribution.

And Crowley does not see Heaven as good. He recognises that being an angel again will not allow him the freedom to do good. (as Aziraphale had to try and talk a demon into helping him save the kids from God.)

[omar-rudeberg]

so you're telling me that in the very first episode of season two, we have:

- simon reaching out to marcus in a moment of need;

- simon automatically inserting physical and emotional distance into their relationship, which marcus says isn't necessary; and then

- marcus, unbeknownst to either of them, literally delivering simon into wille's yearning arms?

are you- are you serious? (if that doesn't foreshadow the rest of the season, i don't know what does.)

... oh, wait.

“checkmate.”

[onsomenewsht]

now playing: Moon

< track 6 || fine.

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic), María Leon x Reader (platonic), Barcelona Femení x Reader

》 words count: +6k

》 how can I be dead to you / when we're looking at the same moon?

The second leg of the Champions League’s quarter final between Barcelona and Arsenal is scheduled ten days after the first one.

Ten days in which you do nothing but think about this game. About welcoming your former club in your new home. About the tactics and the plays that didn’t work out quite as you wished, about what to do and not do to be better.

About Alexia.

Alexia’s a constant thought, and for the first time since leaving Barcelona, you allow that thought to invade every single corner of your mind.

I hope you found what you left for

The conversation you had on your favourite spot replies over and over again in your head. Lying in your bed as you relive it all late at night or surprised by a sentence in the middle of practice, it’s always with you in some way. You let her smile pop up out of nowhere and let one of your own grow on your lips without a reason. You indulge yourself in speaking about your relationship, about her, about how you felt with her and how you feel without her.

You try to forgive yourself now you know she doesn’t hate you.

To the point you permit yourself to send a text to Eli and Alba and invite them to watch the game in the family and friends’ section of the Emirates Stadium. They obviously declined, but you didn’t expect them to actually take in your offer - it was a symbolic gesture.

However, the entire Putellas family accepts your invite out for dinner that same night, even if Alexia insists on paying since they just kicked you out of the Champions League.

“You’re my guests, I’m gonna pay”

“Vale, I’m paying next time then”, she smiles.

Despite all the analysis and the tactics and the effort the entire Arsenal team and staff put into the game, despite the immense support of the fans who fill the stadium and cheer from the start to the final whistle, you lose.

Tecnichally, you tie. Claudia manages an incredible equaliser in the eightieth minute, crushing your hopes as the harsh law of football enforces the advantage Barça needs to get through the semifinals.

Your former teammates are reluctant to come to you after the game, but you accept gracefully their hands and words of encouragement. The tension none of you realise is there dissipates as soon as Alexia invites you into a group hug, surrounding you in Blaugrana’s colours briefly before you escape with Claudia’s jersey.

“As a reminder you could be playing for another Champions League if you stayed?”

“No, as a reminder to never piss you off again”

María is unusually soft in her teasing, letting a few jabs pass by and taking you in her arms when she senses that you need a place to let go of your disappointment without getting caught by the cameras.

“No te pongas triste, nos veremos pronto” (Don’t be too sad, you will see me again soon)

“Don’t you dare ask me to be a bridesmaid or something”

“¡A la mierda!”, the defender’s laugh might be able to fill the now half empty stadium, “Pero te necesito para elegir mi traje” (But I need you around to pick my outfit).

“You still don’t know what to wear?”

“Necesito buen gusto de verdad, no puedo permitir a mi futura esposa de ayudarme” (I need someone with a real fashion sense, it’s not like I can let my future wife help me).

“Frido?”, you try to ask.

“Está de su parte” (She’s on Ingrid side)

“Alexia?”

You and María exchange a knowing look. The Catalan is the most helpful person in most situations, but definitely not the right one for this job.

You bid your goodbye with a promise of a trip back to Barcelona before the end of the season, an away kit in your hand and a plan for dinner with your ex’s family.

The atmosphere in the changing room is tense, your teammates are upset about the result and not really in the mood to talk.

“Well, we lost to them and ten days later we tie”, you manage to draw their attention to you, “next time we face them we’re gonna win”

It’s stupid, it’s a risky attempt to break the ice in the room, but the different and loud reactions you get from all the girls tell you you’re all gonna be fine - even if you have to dodge a pair of boots to prove it.

I hope you found what you left for

~

That day, that loss, somehow and in some twisted way, gives you permission to feel everything you need to feel.

You let yourself be upset about getting kicked out of the Champions League by your former team, but you also let yourself celebrate every single win with your new club. You let yourself feel the bittersweet taste of a second place in the championship, but you lift the FA Cup with the same excitement you lifted every trophy in Barcelona. You let yourself miss your teammates-turned-friends when you go each on your own ways for the off-season, but you also invite them to spend time at your place that feels every day more like home.

Leah is delighted to see more than a faded shadow of who you are, this new version of you every day more present and every day clearer.

“You know, Keira used to talk you up so much back when you played together”, she says as you try to pack everything you think you need in an oversized luggage.

You will pay the extra tax, better than being unprepared.

“I don’t meet the expectation?”

“Definitely not”, she ducks just in time to avoid a pair of socks.

“She described you as this outgoing, always up for a joke person, and we got a moody footballer who barely spoke to us outside of the training centre”

The English captain is not wrong, the first weeks in London were very challenging both physically and mentally as you tried to adapt to a different style of play and a different view of yourself.

I hope you found what you left for

It took you some time, Leah and all the other girls’ patience, an overwhelming heart to heart talk with your ex girlfriend, and a devastating loss to reveal the first results of your slow healing process.

“Look at me now”

“Yeah, I don’t have to force myself in here anymore. You even cook for me willingly”

“Well–”, you’re not as fast as her when she throws the socks back at you.

Luggage filled and closed, silence spreads in the room when both of you want to address something but you don’t want to start a conversation that’s most likely to make the other uncomfortable.

“Last meal?”

“I’m leaving for a week to Barcelona, not to a war zone”

“In some sense–”

You ignore the blonde, yet go into the kitchen to cook something for the two of you. She offered to help you pack and drive you to the airport tomorrow, the least you can do is feed her one more time before letting her on her own devices.

Alexia’s comfort meal is what you go for. The ingredients are the only ones available in your fridge, and, honestly, the food looks comforting to you too this time.

“I don’t mind this version of you”

“You’re such a good friend, Williamson, have I ever told you?”

“Several times actually”

You don’t think you are the same person you were back in Barcelona, but you don’t think that is a bad thing either.

Maybe you’re not as outgoing as you used to be and you don’t find yourself involved in all the jokes your friends plan, but you’re letting yourself relax around the people you feel close to and you don’t hide your emotions anymore - sad nor happy ones.

Not a shell anymore, you can feel this new version of you growing out and taking down the wall you built around yourself one brick at a time.

You left to find yourself, even if you had no idea where to start your search.

You keep finding some pieces you thought were lost forever, others you never realise weren’t with you anymore. Some pieces you drop along the way, others you carefully say goodbye to to be buried deep down. Some new pieces you pick up yourself, and right now, you don’t care if they will stay with you forever or just till you need them.

You’re moving and, wherever you’re heading, you’re finding yourself on the way.

“Do you want to come with me?”

Leah’s reaction to your question caught you off guard, she almost choked on the food she’s devouring as a famished kid.

“Did you just fucking ask me to be your plus one at a wedding the day before you leave for said wedding?”

“What can I say, I’m known for my perfect timing”

You hand her a glass of water, knowing she’s most likely able to see right through you even if your eyes are fixed on the now empty plate.

“Are you scared to go to your friend’s wedding alone?”

“I need a buffer”

“You need a bulletproof jacket”, she really sees right through you.

“You need a new knee but I’m not here pointing it out, am I?”

It’s not like you’re scared to attend María and Ingrid’s wedding alone, and it’s not like you need a comfort blanket to hold on while surrounded by your friends and former teammates and people from your life back in Barcelona.

“Look, I’m flattered, you’re cute at everything but—”

“Ew, no, if you don’t shut up right now I’m going to break your good knee”

Leah knows that’s not the reason why you’re asking her to be your plus one, she just wants to poke at you and get the words out of you.

It takes her a couple of more quips and annoying comments to let you admit the real reason.

“Mapi let slip Alexia’s taking someone”

“Oh, sweet little Trotter, you’re asking me to make two time Ballon d’Or winner Alexia Putellas jealous–”, she doesn’t have the time to end her sentence as you sprint toward her and she has a feeling you’re not joking anymore about kicking her.

~

Leah ends up taking you to the airport the next day, insisting to drop you off as a kid on their first day of school. You have a feeling she doesn’t accept your invitation because the short notice doesn’t give her the proper amount of time to pick the right outfit, nothing more.

Another English girl picks you up when you land under the barely raised Barcelona’s sun, you almost feel like they take turns to babysit you.

“Keira, not to sound ungrateful, but I genuinely can’t think of anything worse than being your guest”

“Ouch! Do you wanna be left on the side of the road?”

“I’ll be fine in my fancy hotel room by myself, really”

“By yourself, uhm?”

The seatbelt is the only thing preventing you from hitting your head on the dashboard, despite your best effort. Of course they gossip about you. Whatever you tell Leah, you know it’s like you tell Keira too and vice versa. You even found yourself in the middle of one of they’re gossip sessions once, your life is their favourite topic lately.

They’re lucky you can admit you own them your sanity.

“I don’t know who she’s bringing”

“I didn’t ask”, you scoff as if the question isn’t on the tip of your tongue for weeks.

Well, you’re gonna find out in a couple of hours anyway.

Keira reluctantly drops you at the hotel you’re staying at, voicing once more you could have stayed with her or any of your other friends who she knows offered their home.

Your former teammates are way nicer with you now they’re once again Champions League winners.

Maybe it’s also because you stopped hide and actually made an effort to stay in touch.

Both can be true.

Once settled in your room and ready to leave, you’re so anxious one could think you’re the one getting married as you retouch your makeup every five minutes and keep fixing non-existent creases in your maroon strapless dress. It’s a beautiful tailor-made piece you never found the excuse to wear till now.

It’s a call from María herself that stops you from spiralling again about the shape of your eyebrows.

“If this is a getaway call, you must know I have no car nor intention of helping you”

“Idiota! Dónde estás?” (Where are you?), she asks with a well hidden note of anxiety in her voice.

“I’m not gonna be late and take the spotlight away from you, don’t worry”

“¿Puedes venir aquí por favor?” (Can you come here, please?)

“María, I’m gonna kill you”, you state, sliding your heels on with one hand and calling the reception to hail a taxi with the other.

You stay with her on the phone the whole ride to the venue, thankfully just ten minutes away since you planned this visit meticulously to avoid any “accident”.

You definitely didn’t plan this though.

As you storm into the room your friend tells you to find her, you should have seen it coming.

“If you need a getaway car or a pep talk, you know I’m not the right person”

“¿No tienes un discurso para convencerme de casarme?” (You don’t have a speech to convince me to get married?)

“You don’t need a speech”

“Ay, no, no lo necesito” (No, I don’t), she confirmed as you take in the grin and the attire she’s wearing, “Pero tu sí” (But you do).

María is relaxed and ready to walk down the aisle, saying goodbye to who you think is the makeup and hair team. You could have punched her if not out of respect for the incredible job they did. Just then you notice all the people in the room, Alexia in the corner with a sympathetic smile on her perfectly traced lips.

She’s stunning.

The long royal blue dress she’s wearing shows just the right amount of tanned skin, gold jewellery complimenting her features and making Alexia glow in a way you will never forget.

“I told her it was a stupid idea”

You must have been frozen in place for a second too much.

“Quiero que te levantes y digas cosas bonitas, Nena” (I want you to stand up at some point to tell some nice things)

“Just ask like a fucking normal person, María!”

“Lo hice, dijiste que no” (I did, you said no)

“So you made me think you wanted to ditch the whole thing?”

“Estás aquí temprano, ¿no? Tienes tiempo de escribir un buen discurso” (You’re here early, aren’t you? You have time to write something good)

The relaxing methods your new therapist drilled into you the past weeks better work, you’re really close to making your friend get married with a black eye as payback for the heart attack she got you.

“You’re so lucky I love you”, you sigh as the defender kisses your cheek and leads the way out of the room.

Apparently, you better hurry up as your outbursts pushed the schedule five minutes back what it’s supposed to - much to the wedding planner’s annoyance.

Alexia slows down her pace to walk next to you as you follow the indications given to you.

“Finally”

“What?”

“I can finally see you in this dress”, her smile is way too honest for the day you’re both about to go through, “Worth the wait”.

-

The ceremony is short and sweet. You’re not sure how María Pilar León manages to stay still for so long, but Ingrid’s hand intertwined with hers the entire time must be the main reason.

There’s some sort of light surrendering your friends. It may be the stunning yet intimate venue they choose or the Barcelona sun hitting at the perfect moment as they smile at each other. It may be the love you can feel radiating from the couple or the support and genuine excitement all the people in the room are sharing for the occasion.

Whatever it is, you’re happy to be part of it.

María and Ingrid exchange their vows with tender words and silent promises you know they’re making to each other. At some point you even have to hold on Frido’s arm, sit on your left side, as you start to cry big tears that are most definitely ruining your makeup.

Feeling Alexia’s eyes on you the entire time is not helping.

You have no idea that the wedding photographer is snapping a couple of pictures of you and the other guests in their emotional state, as per Mapi’s request. It surprises you way later when the Spanish defender posts the photo on her socials on your birthday - you block her for a month just to spite her.

When the sun sets and you manage to compose yourself a bit, the party starts and Ingrid takes it upon herself to make you lose your composure, handing you the first drink of the day.

You’re pretty sure the wedding planner hates you as he finds out you’re not only the reason why arranging seats and tables was so unnecessarily difficult, but he also has to brief you at the last minute about the little moments they planned and when you’re supposed to make your speech.

You know for sure he hates you when you tell him you actually still have to write it down so a delay in the schedule is needed. He leaves you with some paper, pen and cursed words.

It looks like everyone wants to talk to you and you find yourself the centre of attention way more times you’re comfortable with, even more than the newlyweds - much to their amusement.

A lifesaver comes in the form of Lucy Bronze, the buffer you didn’t know you needed, but you’re glad is around to help you deal with the Spanish excitement that surrounds you all over.

The English girl, who you now understand is the bonus member of the blonde squad that for some reason hunts you, is acting as your personal bodyguard since Keira is already not sober enough to be helpful.

“Please, tell me you wrote your speech”, Lucy’s eyeing your second refill of the day.

It’s an open bar, after all, you’re not letting María’s mother warm embrace and some girl you don’t remember the name of - but met maybe twice while celebrating a trophy’s win - messing with your mind more than what you’re already doing by yourself.

“I wrote a complaint and a draw of a monkey throwing shit”

“Classy, I can’t wait to see what you’ll go for”

“I told María fucking Engen-León not making me do a fucking speech”

Pages of scribbled words later, you’re back in Barcelona for your best friends’ wedding with no speech, no idea of what you’ll say and not sober enough to write down anything nice about a certain defender.

“Language, por favor”

You almost drop your glass when you feel Alexia’s hand on your back to get your attention and a teasing grin on her face. The desire to trace her lips with your finger is stronger now the first drinks are hitting.

“She can still scold you?”

“You have no idea the things she can still do to me, Bronze”, you mutter as you practically bottom down your drink.

“Can I steal you for a moment?”, she asks with a softer smile.

“I’m pretty sure the words were–”

Lucy doesn’t have time to finish her sentence as both you Alexia hit her without taking your eyes off each other. She gets the hint and leaves with a laugh.

“My date wants to say hi”

You’re pretty sure her words just triggered a malfunction in your already damaged brain. You could have been less shocked if she had asked to marry her right now and there.

“What?”

“Vien conmigo” (Just come with me)

Alexia is way too amused for your liking, but you follow her lead without real hesitation - leaving behind your empty glass and probably what’s left of your sanity.

As the two of you approach the table her family is sitting at, her hand finds a place on your back in a comforting way when you spot Eli, Alba and another tiny brunette you immediately know is about to make you cry.

The kid is too focused on her drawing to notice the two approaching, Alba nudges her, and the little girl retorts back with a hit. As soon as you are spotted, the colourful paper and the annoying woman are both forgotten.

Alexia’s little cousin, Zoe, comes at you at full speed and you’re able to welcome her into your arms fast enough just thanks to your professional athlete’s reflexes.

You hold on to her green dress as the girl jumps in your arms, too excited to see you again after more than a year to realise she’s speaking rapidly at you.

“En español, monita, por favor”, Alexia intercepts.

“¡Estás aquí!” (You’re here)

“Yeah, estoy aquí”

Alexia can’t hold back a laugh as you try to keep up with the little girl’s energy, who is set to tell you everything she has done since the last time she saw you. You were around when Zoe was barely old enough to walk properly.

Four years is a long time when you’re as young as the kid is.

The two of you were a pair who always managed to drive Alexia crazy and fill her heart with love at the same time.

“Ale me dijo que ya no vivis juntos, ahora tu juegas para Inglaterra” (Ale told me you don’t live together anymore, you play for England now)

“Juego para un equipo inglés” (I play for an english club)

“¡El equipo rojo! Pregunté Ale tu camiseta” (The red one! I asked Ale for your jersey)

“¡Ay, ¿de verdad?!” (Oh, did you really?), you notice Alexia’s blush immediately, keeping up the teasing thanks to the little girl.

You manage to calm Zoe enough to make her sit back. She’s mostly on your legs as the two of you keep talking and taking turns picking colours. All under the watchful sight of Alexia, who was instructed to sit down too by her cousin.

When the draw is finished and signed, you can feel the young mind running. The little frown in the middle of the forehead is a sight you’re way too familiar with.

“Qué está pensando, monita?” (What’s on your mind?)

“¿Estás de vuelta?” (You’re back in Barcelona?)

Alexia tries to divert the conversation, sensing her cousin is about to ask or say some things that are way too difficult to explain - despite being such easy questions. However, you smile and nod to let her know you can deal with it.

“He vuelto para Mapi’s boda y podemos celebrarlo juntos” (I’m back for Mapi’s wedding, so we can celebrate together)

“Lo sé, Ale me dijo que estarías aquí y quería saludarte” (I know, Ale told me you could be back and I wanted to say hi)

“Siento haber desaparecido, intentaré venir saludar más” (I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ll try to come say hi more when I can)

“¿Prometes?” (You promise?), Zoe holds up a tiny finger, mimicking a gesture you taught her years ago.

You wrap your pinky around hers firmly, shaking it three times. It’s another promise you’re not going to break.

“Tienes que prometerlo a Ale también, ella te echa de menos” (You have to promise Ale too, she miss you)

“Lo sé” (I know)

The way Zoe is tracing coloured lines around her drawing is a tell that she still has a lot of questions for you, probably not satisfied enough with the answers she got from Alexia.

The pair of you spent a lot of time with the kid as you always encouraged the Catalan to spend as much time as possible with her extended family too, knowing it pained her to have a little cousin who looks up at her with such admiration but not actually seeing her much.

Also, babysitting Zoe was so fun for you and an excuse to tease Alexia in so many ways you took the chance on any possible occasion.

“¿Aún la amas?” (You still love her?)

The chair you’re sitting in is strong enough to keep you still even if the entire room is spiralling, and you’re pretty sure there’s a huge hole under your expensive heels. You caught Alexia’s panicked face out of the corner of your eye too.

It takes you a moment, but when you answer Zoe’s question you’re the most sure you have ever been in the past year or so.

“Siempre la amaré” (I’ll always love her)

~

Ironically enough, the wedding planner is the one saving you from yourself and the innocent questioning of a kid.

You stand in your designated spot with a microphone in one hand and a piece of paper in the other - blank if not for the doodles you let Zoe draw on it. You will play the part, props at all.

There may be no speech planned or intention to do one in the first place, but you know what to talk about when talking about love.

After a short introduction of who you are - even if almost everyone knows you for some reason or other - and a couple of football related jokes, you manage to buy yourself enough time to find a pair of soft eyes in the crowd.

You saw María and Ingrid growing a supportive and caring relationship, you know both of them enough to describe how wonderful their love is and even landing some good jokes on Mapi’s expenses.

You know how being in love feels like enough to get some people emotional, you know how being loved feels like enough to make some other cry.

“Finally, I would like to propose a toast”, you raise your glass and wink at the wedding planner - he may have had a heart attack during a questionable part of your speech, but you definitely saw him shed a tear or two at the end.

“To Ingrid, who is one of the thoughtful human beings I have the honour to look up to in my life. You don’t even need words to let people understand your love for them, it’s the most important thing you taught us and the one I’ll try the most to remember when my mind and my mouth will fighting against each other”

The Norwegian woman looks at you with a warm smile as she raises her own glass, reaching for her wife’s hand.

“To María, who is one of the most annoying human beings I have the privilege to call family. You taught us that everyone deserves to be respected and taken care of, that you don’t even need to know someone to make them feel welcome. I’ll never forget you proved it to me the very first day we met, and I’ll keep trying to grant myself the same care you unconditionally show me”

Your friend is crying as you smile at her, trying to let her understand how much you appreciate everything she did and does for you, how much you appreciate her firm support despite her opinion on your choices.

“To everyone here, who is witnessing a celebration of love that’s never going to fade as we’ll keep it alive”

Alexia’s eyes on you make you believe your own words more than anything else.

~

As the night progresses, most of the guests are gone. The ones still standing are the closest to the couple and the ones who managed to take the most advantage of the open bar.

You’re obviously among those.

The break from dancing you treat yourself with is filled with rapid words from Ona, Lucy, Aitana and Keira, all engaged in a conversation about your performance at Arsenal and how you can do better next season.

It’s not really talk shop as they’re making fun of you and the unfortunate episode that saw you tripping on the ball while attempting a quite impressive shot outside the box.

You found your footing and the back of the net shortly after, so their amusing is quite frankly unnecessary if you can say yourself.

“Mary let that ball pass ‘cause she was laughing so much, that’s all”

“Fuck you, Bronze!”

“She’s right, I saved the video and I watch it every time I miss you”

“You’re worse than Mapi”, you don’t dignify Keira with an answer as you leave the group to refill your drink.

“Lo siento en mi corazón cuando hablas de mi” (I can feel in my heart when you’re talking about me)

Out of nowhere, María appears in front of you, and as the magician she apparently is tonight, it makes your glass disappear, all while dragging you toward the bubble of loud dancing guests.

You could be mad at her if not for the genuine laughs that are surrounding you, making you miss those girls but convincing you to enjoy this occasion even more.

“Gracias por hoy, Nena” (Thank you for today)

“Estoy tan feliz por ti” (I’m so happy for you)

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the beautiful day you’re having or the fact your best friends just got married and you couldn’t be happier for them, but you sense this is an emotional moment for the two of you.

The Spaniard holds you in her arms firmly, whispering barely loud enough for you to hear, “I want you to be happy too”

“I’m getting there”

The moment ends when the soft smiles on both your faces turn into grins and then open laughs as you start getting loose around all your friends.

You accept Jana’s hand gracefully as she drags you between her and Claudia, the two dancing as no one is watching and taking you down in a mindless movement of arms and hair.

“Still no rhythm at all”

You’re sure you’re drunk enough to imagine Alexia’s hands on your waist as she gets closer to make fun of you.

To be fair, out of the two of you, the Catalan is the one with the worst moves. She is just lucky to be incredibly sexy as she dances.

“You were sober enough to remember that night out after our first Champions League”

“¡Ajá, cállate! Someone tripped me”

“Yeah, your own feet”

The music is loud and the bodies around move in a way that you have to stay basically pressed on her to keep the teasing conversation going.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you grip her arm to let a carefree laugh out.

“You were sober enough to kiss me that same night, what does that say about you?”

“That I have the worst timing ever!”

You mean nothing but the truth, Alexia knows and she keeps you close despite your friends trying to involve you in a group dance - the two of you too wrapped in your own bubble to notice.

Keira does though and she openly calls you out on your behaviour, reminding you this may not be the best time or place to dance with your ex girlfriend as this is your own wedding.

~

The party slows down late in the evening, the last guests bidding their goodbyes and congratulating the happy couple once again.

You’re next to María as she hugs Alba - Eli and Zoe declared the night over a while ago. The defender’s hair is messed up, and a thin sheet of sweat from the dancing and the emotion of the day is covering her forehead. She never looked better.

“When are you leaving?”, the younger girl asks when is your turn to hug her.

“I’ll stay for a couple of days, I planned the off-season under the Italian sun”

“¡Vale!, you can come at dinner one of those”

“I’ll see what I can do”, you smile as you lightly push Alba and her knowing smirk away.

When you admit the day is officially over for you too, María and Ingrid both wrap you in a tight embrace to shower you with kisses and rapid words of gratitude in three different languages you’re way too tired to even try to understand.

At least you can tell they’re happy about your speech.

“I can take you to your hotel”

“You keep offering me rides, you sure you’re not thinking of a career change?”

“I don’t see myself getting a taxi license anytime soon”, Alexia’s attempt at a serious tone is making you giggle way too much for such a simple joke.

The walk toward her car is a silent one and it doesn’t turn uncomfortable when you get cosy in the passenger seat, taking your heels off with a sigh of relief.

The Catalan smiles as she remembers you tend to drop your manners when happily exhausted.

You look at her changing her shoes, a pair of sneakers always in the car for a safe ride, and you keep your eyes on her as she connects her phone to select a playlist.

It’s a ten minute ride at best, but she has not asked where you’re staying, and you’re too curious to find out what she’s planning to point it out.

You’re content and tired enough to admit every minute more you get to spend with Alexia is a win in your book.

She’s the one breaking the silence, turning the volume down a bit and keeping her gaze on the street even if the traffic light in front of you is glowing her features bright red.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable with Zoe”

“I was happy to see her again, she’s getting so tall”

“Yeah”

“Lo siento” (I’m sorry)

Leaving Barcelona meant leaving Alexia, but it was your choice.

And it was your choice to leave every single one who reminds you of her too. Ignoring your friends and finding excuses to not face the consequences of your disappearing. Avoiding Eli and Alba’s calls, too ashamed of the pain you inflicted on the most important person in their life.

It was all your choice.

“We broke up, I didn’t expect you to keep in touch with my family”

“You didn’t expect me to break up with you in the first place”

Alexia turns to look at you for the first time since the ride started, no one behind you calling out to move as the light turns from red to green to red again.

“I can be held accountable for my own choices, Alexia”, you nod at her as she restarts the car to a still unknown destination.

“I was honest with Zoe”

“Lo sé”

“Tú eres mi corazón, te amaré por siempre” (You’re my heart, I will always love you)

“Lo sé”

A full moon high in the dark sky, the view from your windows is getting unfamiliar, but the woman next to you seems to know exactly where she’s going. The pace she’s keeping is slow enough to calm your nerves but fast enough to keep you awake.

There are so many things you want to say, so many useless apologies and unnecessary confessions on the tip of your tongue.

It could be so much easier if she’d hate you.

“I knew you would leave”

“What?”

“I knew you would leave, I knew you found the ring”

Her words manage to steal the breath from your lungs and stop the rhythm of your heart, you go from feeling nothing to everything in a split second. The music is suddenly too loud, the fancy car is crushing on you, and your own body is failing to respond to your commands.

Alexia immediately notices your distress, stopping on the side of the road and lowering your window to let the fresh night air hit your face. She wants to touch you, to ground you as she learned to do, but she’s aware she may make things worse.

You reach for her hand, holding on to her as a lifeline and she does everything she needs to to take you back.

“Sorry, I didn’t see that coming”, you say when you’re ready to think properly again, your attempt to joke landing just because Alexia knows you well enough to understand what you need right now.

“Yo–”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“¿Por qué no lo hiciste tú?” (Why didn’t you?)

The million dollar question, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you let her know? Why didn’t you just talk with her about your feelings and your fears?

You pay your therapist enough to answer those questions for you.

“I don’t think it could have changed anything”

“You couldn’t know”

“And I’ll never, it’s all done now”

You need her to hate you, you need her to hate you and not want to do anything with you ever again.

You need her to leave you.

Not like you left Barcelona, you need her to leave you behind and move on. It’d be so much easier.

Instead, you’re both moving on and you both are still moving in the same direction.

“You would have said sí”, it’s not a question.

“Of course”

You realise you’re still holding on to her just when the Catalan squeezes your hand three times, keeping you grounded and keeping herself together. Your confirmation is both unnecessary and needed, hurting and comforting.

“I want you to love yourself as much as I do”

“I’m trying”

It’s a whisper, it’s a confession you’re not sure you’re ready to hear yourself.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready”

“Alexia, no–”

“Sí”, she drops your hand just to firmly hold your face, guiding your gaze and your tears filled eyes on hers, “I’ll be here when you’re ready, here in Barcelona or wherever here will mean for us”

“I can’t ask you that”

“You’re not asking”

Tears are falling freely now, her thumb tracing your flushed cheeks and your fists holding desperately on her dress. The position you both are in is uncomfortable, the air from the open window tickles your neck, and Alexia’s honesty is crushing your heart, but you never felt better.

“I know you could do whatever I ask, stay in Barcelona or marry me. I need you to know I could do whatever you ask too”

“Then we’re stuck”

“No, we’re both moving”

“You wanna see where we end up?”

“Wherever it will be, we’ll find each other”

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