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me-loving-woso · 4 months

Text

Today. Tomorrow.

Author's note: Hi everyone! So I know I've been MIA for several months. But I'm back! This fic will be divided into 3 parts cause I've realized that I can't write a short one-shot. In no way am I an expert in medicine. The information is from Greys Anatomy and the internet. I apologise in advance if I offend anyone Summary: You never thought you'd find love under these circumstances, but sometimes, love works in mysterious ways. For you, it came in the form of Aitana Bonmatí.

TW: Illness, Cancer, Surgery, Happy Ending

You've just returned to Barcelona after being away due to your job. You were an art restorer and had established a small company with some friends from university. While you specialized in medieval and Renaissance art, your three partners specialized in Japanese art, antique jewelry, and ancient Egyptian art. Your company's diverse expertise made you wanted all around the world.

Although managing such a company and traveling extensively at 26 was demanding, you wouldn't trade it for anything. You loved your job and your colleagues, who were also your best friends. Supporting each other through thick and thin made this life worthwhile for you.

That morning, you were driving to your next job. FC Barcelona, yes, the football club wanted you to restore and polish their trophies. They were meticulous about their trophies, and despite the unnecessary level of care, they requested your services every year to maintain them. It was lucrative work with minimal effort. Even though you weren't specialized in that type of restoration, you were willing to assist your colleague and friend with the task since you had little else to do.

As you parked near the Barcelona training grounds, about to pull up the parking brake, you heard an unpleasant sound, like glass breaking, from the back of your car. You hoped it wasn't what you feared. Taking a deep breath, you checked the other side of your car, hoping it was just your imagination. But as soon as you saw the damage and a small woman approaching you with a mortified expression, you knew the worst had happened. She had hit your car. This couldn't have happened at a worse time.

Walking up to the culprit, you were angry. She was about to speak, but you cut her off. "Sorry, miss. How many fingers am I holding up?" You politely showed her two fingers.

Looking baffled, she replied, "Two?"

"Oh, so you have eyes!" you retorted sarcastically. "I guess an SUV right in front of you was too small for you to see." Your anger was palpable.

"I'm so sorry. I-I was overthinking and didn't turn the handlebar all the way to the right," she stammered apologetically. You could see she was genuinely sorry, but in that moment, you didn't care.

"They should revoke your driver's license. You're a menace," you said, crossing your arms and returning to your car. Taking out the accident report, you said, "Let's fill out the accident report so I can be done with you." She nodded sadly and helped you complete the report.

You knew you were being unfair to her. Stuff happens, but this one was the final straw for you.

As you started filling out the report, you noticed her coming back towards you. Despite her being attractive and all, you were too mad to give a damn. Once you wrapped up your part, you handed her the report to fill out while you rang up your insurance company.

After a couple of minutes of you dialing your mechanic and finishing off the paperwork, you said goodbye to the lady and headed to the Barcelona training grounds.

While you were hanging around, you checked out all the team photos with the trophy. The left side had all the guys' photos, with Messi and the 2009 team, while the right side was all about Barcelona Femeni. Your father was a die-hard Barcelona fan; back in the day, you'd go to some games with him. But when you hit high school, you kinda lost interest in football.

As you spotted last year's Ballon d'Or picture, you suddenly recognized her, which made you laugh out loud. You had just had a small car accident with none other than the Ballon d'Or winner, Aitana Bonmatì.

You thought she looked familiar, but it didn’t really click at the time. Well, at least she's better with her feet than with a steering wheel.

When Eva finally showed up at the training grounds, you rushed over to her.

"Hey Y/n, how's it going?" she greeted.

"I'm good. Some car bumped into me about ten minutes ago, but I'm all right."

"Wait what?!" Eva exclaimed, shocked. Since she found out about your condition and all, she's been super protective. "Are you sure you're okay? Do I need to go all out on someone?"

"The damage ain't that bad. And you'll never guess who I had the run-in with."

You pointed at Aitana's photo on the wall. "Aitana Bonmatì?" Eva asked, puzzled.

"Yep."

"Well, at least she's better at kicking a ball than driving a car."

"That's what I was thinking!" you said, pumped. "Now let's get down to business."

A couple of guys from the club gave you the grand tour and hooked you up with a whole room to work in. You offered to take the trophies back to your lab, but they were set on leaving them there.

As you got everything set up, just as you were about to dive in, the bearded dude was heading out. "Just a heads up, the squad might swing by to check out your work. You know, for Instagram and stuff. Don't sweat it; it won't take too long." You gave a hesitant nod, gearing up for your first trophy.

"Imagine if Aitana walks in here with all her teammates!" Eva quips jokingly as the two guys leave you alone. "I'd pay to see her face when she realizes it's you," she chuckles.

"I think it's the men's team. Otherwise, they would've said it," you comment, preparing your materials.

"How was meeting her?" Eva asks eagerly. She's a big fan of the women's side.

"I didn't even recognize her. I was kinda harsh, actually," you chuckle.

"Luck hasn't been on your side lately, with the car and all," she replies sadly.

"Yeah," you say, feeling a wave of emotions you'd rather not deal with. You shake it off and force a smile. "Let's focus on making some good money. I'd love to have jobs like this every day!"

You start working on Champions League and La Liga trophies. There's a lot, and as the hours pass, you feel even more exhausted.

After a couple of hours, the guy from earlier shows up. "So, the team's about to arrive. Is it okay if we film you?"

Eva looks at you, waiting for your response. "Only if I get some free advertising out of it."

He thumbs up. "I'll tag you in the story."

"You better!" you playfully retort, returning to polishing the 2005 men's Champions League trophy. You fake a smile and wait for the team to arrive.

As soon as you hear female voices, you glance at Eva and chuckle. She whispers a "I told you so" and gets back to work.

When they come in, you make eye contact with Aitana. Her smile turns to shock, then mortification. It takes all your willpower not to laugh. Out of all the people in Barcelona, she had to be the one to hit your car?

You quickly present your work, using fancy words you rarely use and explaining all the procedures. Aitana never comes near you, which makes you feel a bit sorry for her.

Once the cameras stop rolling, some of the players ask you both questions. As they're about to leave, Aitana walks up to you, apologizing awkwardly.

"I'm sorry again."

"Don't worry about it. Let's start fresh, okay?" You offer your hand, and she shakes it, smiling.

"I didn't know you worked with trophies," she adds quickly, not wanting the conversation to end.

Now that the anger has passed, you actually look at her. She's one of the most beautiful girls you've ever seen, and you're a sucker for nose rings.

"I'm actually an art restorer for Renaissance art. I'm here to help my friend with this job."

"That's so cool!" She beams at you. "So, are you going to work on my Ballon d'Or trophy too?"

You glance at Eva, who nods slightly. "Yeah, but probably not until next week."

She looks at you hesitantly. "Can I be there? I mean, it's not that I don't trust you, but I'm just curious, that's all."

"Are you done rambling?" You chuckle lightly at her nervousness. She's probably still embarrassed about the accident.

"Yes, I am," she replies shyly, making you chuckle. There's something about her that draws you in, as if you were meant to be near each other.

"Of course, you can join us. It might be a bit dull for you though, since you're all about adrenaline during your football games."

"I'm just really curious, that's all. I won't bother you, I promise," she reassures you, still smiling.

"I don't think you could ever be a bother," you say before you can stop yourself, turning your head away.

"Well then, as a proper apology, can I bring you coffee tomorrow?" she offers.

"You don't have to, Aitana."

"I insist. How do you take your coffee?"

—

The next morning, you waited for Eva to pick you up for Barcelona's facilities. Since your car was at the mechanic's, she'd be giving you rides for at least a week.

As soon as you arrived at the trophies, you got to work promptly.

"So, you think Aitana's actually gonna bring you coffee?" Eva smirks suggestively.

"I doubt it. She'll probably forget. And maybe she was just being polite," you reply, focusing on your task.

"Well, she was all smiles with you yesterday," Eva starts tentatively.

You turn to her, pausing your work. "What? What are you getting at?" you ask, eyebrows raised in exasperation.

"Maybe she wanted something more than your forgiveness. Like your attention, or an excuse to see you again," she smirks.

"You, Eva, have been reading too many romance novels lately," you chuckle, feeling defeated.

"Two is not too many!"

"We've only talked for fifteen minutes."

"Yet it was the first time I saw you smile in a month," she says, making you roll your eyes once again. You're certain Aitana was just being nice. But you can't deny she's cute. And kind. And nice.

"Eva, you know I can't," you say sadly.

"You deserve a shot at happiness too, you know."

"Yes, but I don't think a super hot football player is the answer."

"Well, maybe a super hot footballer isn't the solution, but I know one who promised you coffee," you turn your head towards the door. There she is, with three coffees on a tray, wearing a shy smile. You blush profusely, hoping she didn't overhear your conversation with Eva, but she seems unfazed, waiting for your acknowledgment.

You take a moment to compose yourself before removing your work gloves and standing up to greet her.

"Hi Aitana. Did you manage to park your car properly?" you tease.

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?" She hands you your coffee and then turns to Eva. "Well, I didn't know what kind of coffee you preferred, so I just brought you the most basic and likable."

Eva looks at her baffled; neither of you expected her to bring Eva coffee or to see her again. "Oh, thank you!" Eva responds before turning back to you, the absurdity of the situation evident in your wide eyes.

She takes a sip of her own coffee, then looks at the trophy you were just working on. "Have you already worked on ours?"

"We wanted to finish the men's trophies first, then do yours next week," you explain. Eva's phone rings, and she excuses herself to take the call, as it was a work call, leaving you and Aitana alone.

“It’s El Prado, I’ll be right back.”

You sit back down to work, and she curiously comes around the table to your side to see what you're doing. "Don't you have practice today?" you ask.

"We have a rest day," she replies. "Your colleague said El Prado called her, like the museum?"

"Yeah, I have to go touch up some paintings, maybe next month? My schedule's really busy right now."

"You do paintings too?" she asks, surprised.

"I usually only do that. I'm just helping Eva with this job. These trophies are already well taken care of; they don't really need this much attention. But I have to say, LaPorta pays really well," you joke, trying to ease the tension. She chuckles lightly. She has a cute laugh, you think.

"Well, now I'll definitely tell LaPorta!" she jokes back.

"Don't you dare!"

You joke and chat for at least another fifteen minutes. There's something about her that makes your stomach flip in ways you definitely don't want it to. She's attentive, curious, and sweet. She's confident but never boastful, which you find refreshing.

As the minutes pass, she gradually moves closer to you, coaxing you into letting her help with your work. You gently push her away, chuckling, telling her they don't pay her to restore trophies. But she doesn't budge. She grabs a pair of gloves, picks up her chair, and places it next to yours. She sits down, and you turn to her, wide-eyed at the proximity, but soon focus back on the trophy.

She tucks a loose hair lock behind your ear, asking for your attention. You turn to her, cheeks slightly flushed. "You're distracting me, Aitana."

"Maybe that is my intention," she smirks teasingly.

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

"It's not my fault you're easily distracted. I haven't done anything. I just sat next to you and put on some gloves," she raises an eyebrow.

"And that's more than enough," you utter to yourself.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing!" You reply hastily, but she smiles knowingly, as if she caught you saying something you shouldn't have.

You two stare at each other, like strangers trying to solve a puzzle on each other's faces. You can't quite figure her out. She's the best footballer in the world, yet she's so much more. Still, you feel drawn to her, as if you're meant to be there with her, and she with you.

You're probably imagining things and being delusional. You blame it on your period. The silence fills the room, becoming suffocating. It's too intense, too much.

Thankfully, Eva enters the room, and you jump back into action, focusing on the trophy again, while Aitana stares at the floor.

You look at Eva, who's already sending you a big smirk, making you roll your eyes.

Aitana stands up and walks to the door. "I really have to go now. How about tomorrow?"

"What-"

"Okay. Bye!" And she was already out.

You turn to Eva. “Did I miss something?” She asks.

“I don’t know. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

—

"So, the blood work came back," your doctor says, settling into his chair and opening your file. "You have anemia. Until your hemoglobin levels increase, we can't proceed with the therapy. I advise you to adjust your diet to include more iron and vitamin B12-rich foods. Also, consider taking some vitamin supplements."

You nod lightly, already mentally noting a trip to the drugstore. After a final visit from the doctor, you head home.

This week has been relatively relaxed compared to your previous ones in Italy. You've been working on an undemanding job with your best friend, which couldn't have gone better. Well, maybe it did. Every day this week, she brought you coffee and lingered for at least 15 minutes to chat with you. Even with her busy training schedule, she always made time to talk. You wouldn't discuss deep topics or your condition, but you appreciated how she listened and remained interested in your life.

Occasionally, she'd flash you that beautiful smile, tempting you to throw caution to the wind and kiss away all her smirks and grins.

—

That same morning, Eva was alone at the Barcelona training grounds because you were at the doctor's office. Around 9 AM, Aitana arrived, searching for you.

"Hi, Eva. Is Y/n here?" she asks.

"Y/n isn't here today. She had a doctor's appointment. Did she forget to tell you?" Eva replies.

Aitana's face falls into a kicked puppy expression. "She did. Anyway, I wanted to give her this." She hands Eva a bag. "It's game tickets. She mentioned she's never been to a Barcelona Femení game, and I wanted to change that. Can you please give them to her?"

Eva studies her, trying to gauge her intentions. "You like her, don't you?"

"What?" Aitana's taken aback, clearly not expecting those words.

"I get it. She's a wonderful person. And stubborn. Just don't hurt her; she's already going through enough," Eva warns.

Aitana nods lightly. "I hope to see you at the stadium this weekend. Bye!" With that, she leaves.

—

Two hours later, you return to work.

"Hey!" you greet Eva.

"Hey! How was the appointment?"

"I have anemia, among other things, so I have to wait for it to get better before starting treatment."

"That sucks. But on the bright side, your footballer came by."

Damn. You were so wrapped up in conversation with her, and also distracted by her presence the day before, that you forgot to tell her you wouldn't be at work the next day.

"I forgot to let her know I wouldn't be here today," you admit.

"I figured. I saw the disappointment on her face when she didn't see you," Eva says, overly dramatic.

"You're being dramatic," you lightly blush.

"Maybe, but she cares about you."

"She's a good friend. It's no wonder everyone likes her."

"She could be more than a friend. I think she's—"

"Again, Eva. You know I can't! Besides, do you really think a girl like her would go for a girl like me?" With every interaction, your feelings for Aitana have grown. You're ignoring them, but you know they're there. Acting on them wouldn't be fair to her. But there's an inexplicable pull that you can't control.

"Y/n, you have qualities not everyone has. If it's a worthiness issue, it's all in your head." Eva hands you the bag Aitana left.

"You know I can't be in a relationship right now."

"Why?"

"You know why. It wouldn't be fair to her."

"Then stop giving her heart eyes. It's annoying, especially when I'm trying to work," Eva chuckles.

"It's not you she's trying to distract," you admit, blushing lightly. "And I don't give her heart eyes." You pout.

"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt," she comments ironically. "But I get it. You've never dealt well with hot women anyway. You're just playing it cool because you're still denying your feelings."

"Stop getting inside my head! Let's get back to work."

That night, you finally open the bag. Inside is an envelope with two tickets to Saturday's game against Atletico Madrid, along with a note.

"I hope you enjoy the game! Since I know you don’t have a jersey, I thought I’d give you one of my old ones."

You pull out the jersey, from last year with the Liga F patch. You subtly smell it, convincing yourself it's not weird. Her perfume lingers, but there's also a scent that inexplicably feels like hers.

The next morning, you wake up an hour early for work. You want to finish an be earlier to surprise Aitana and apologize. Knowing she has a physio appointment ending at 10 AM, you plan to surprise her with a macha latte, just as she did for you all week.

Waiting outside the physio building feels like a terrible idea, making you regret everything. As time passes and she doesn't emerge from the building, you were about to give up. But then, after what feels like centuries, she appears. The look on her face makes it all worth it. She walks quickly to you, still wearing a cute smile.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" she asks.

"I wanted to apologize. I forgot to tell you about yesterday." You hand her the macha. "Plus, this week, it's my turn." You both sit on a bench.

"Is everything okay? Eva mentioned you had a doctor's appointment," she inquired, causing your brain to pause for a moment.

"Uhm, yeah! Just some anemia, but otherwise, I'm good," you fib.

"That must be tough. My mom also has anemia, but fortunately, it's not that serious," she says, switching to a more excited tone. "So, are you coming to the game on Saturday?"

"Of course," you reply, grinning at her excitement.

"You know, since I gave you the tickets, you have to wear my jersey, or they won't let you in," she teases.

"Too bad, I was planning to wear my Putellas jersey. She's the best player on the team. Plus, I love the number 11," you try to rile her up. Her smile fades, and she's about to stand up when you put down your coffee and wrap your arms around her waist to keep her on the bench. "I'm kidding!"

She sits back down, crossing her arms childishly. "I want my jersey back."

You scoot closer to her, attempting to uncross her arms, but she's surprisingly strong. "Oh no. It was a gift. Besides, I think I can get used to the number 14." Finally, you manage to uncross her arms, and she takes your hand, intertwining it with hers. Your heart begins to race as you stare at your hands together. Her voice brings you back to reality.

"I'll show you who's the best."

"I have no doubt." With your free hand, you tuck one of her locks of hair behind her ear. "And you, woman, are one of the most competitive people I know. It's concerning."

"If we win, we'll probably go out to celebrate. Do you want to come?" she asks shyly.

"I'm already going out. One of my friends wants to celebrate his birthday at a bar. Maybe next time?" you suggest.

"Definitely."

You check your watch. "I really have to go now; I need to get back to work. Same time tomorrow?"

"Bringing you coffee is my thing. Are you stealing my ideas, Y/Ln?" she hints.

"Well then, I won't have a reason to see you," you imply, stepping into unknown territory, but it feels right.

"Well, that's just your loss. Coffee's my thing. You'll just have to find another way to see me then."

"Is that a challenge? Because I can find some other excuses to see you before the match," you grin confidently.

"Like?" she asks, smiling back.

"Well, I was thinking of working on your Ballon d'Or tomorrow evening. You've been bugging me for a week, asking for my help. I'll let you work on your Ballon d'Or, if you still want to, of course."

"Oh, so you want to invite me over to do your job?" she smirks.

"Definitely. This was all planned. You didn't see that coming, did you?"

"You just broke my heart. And for a moment I thought what we had was genuine," she says dramatically, making you poke her side.

"I really have to go now. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely."

You walk to your car with a smile plastered on your face, feeling a tingling sensation in your hand from when she held it. You feel and sound like a horny teenager. Never in your life has a person made you feel this way, and that scares you.

—

The next morning, you arrived at work with a newfound excitement, which didn't escape Eva's notice.

"Why are you so happy?" she asked.

"Just the usual," you shrugged.

"Does it have something to do with your footballer?"

"She does have a name, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I've seen her more than my parents this past week. It's concerning. By the way, where is she?"

"She'll be here in the evening when we work on the Ballon d'Ors."

"Then I'll be out of your way."

"You don't have to. Nothing will happen between us, don't worry."

"Yeah, no. I've suffered enough this week. All the giggles, all the weird flirting. I'm done. Plus, you're making me feel extremely lonely."

—

Fast forward to the afternoon, you were waiting for Aitana while finishing touching up all the material. Even though the supplement for anemia gave you more energy, you had been working for six hours straight and couldn't wait to finish.

What was left was Aitana's Ballon d'Or. You hated working with gold, so you were glad this was the last thing for Barcelona. You would probably miss being here, but most importantly, you'd miss a person more.

As soon as she came in, you noticed she was still dressed in Barcelona sweats.

"Hey! Did you just finish training?" you asked.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"Tiring. I didn't know you wore glasses." She put your glasses on herself.

"You are definitely blind. I remember you asking me if I was blind when we first met. I guess coming from you, it's even funnier," she teased, earning a poke to the side.

You rolled your eyes. "I had contacts on. What's your excuse?"

She showed you her tongue. "Do I look like an art restorer now?" she fake bragged.

"You are way too fit for anything to do with art," you chuckled, gently removing your glasses from her face.

"Hey! I do, in fact, love everything to do with art. I'm here; that should mean something."

"Being friends with an art restorer doesn't change the fact that you're for sports, while I'm for the visual arts."

"Maybe that's why we get along."

"Maybe." You handed her a pair of gloves, which she excitedly put on. "You're getting very excited for this. Working with gold is very boring."

She shrugged. "I'm working with Spain's best art restorer; it's a privilege," she teased.

"I'm far from being the best," you denied shyly.

"I looked you up, you know. Youngest woman to own an art restoring company, you travel the world because everyone wants you. What more can you do?" she insisted confidently.

"You're the best player in the world. Last year, you won everything. What more can you do?" you flipped the conversation.

"I'm far from being the best. I still have to improve," she repeated your words.

"To me, you are the best, if that means something," you admitted, making her turn to you with a big smile on her face.

"Well, I thought Alexia was your favorite player; you claimed that you love the number 11," she raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Well, I told you that I could get used to a 14 on my back. Plus, she didn't bring me coffee for an entire week just to see me. Lame, I might add," you teased her, making her blush.

"Shut up! You loved it," she said shyly, hiding her face away from you.

"Yeah, I really did... Now let's get started."

For the next half-hour, you taught Aitana a part of your work, filling your heart with joy at her curiosity. Whenever you guided her hands, Aitana would send you a look that you couldn't quite explain. It was intense and riveting, making you internally combust.

She was sitting so close to you; you could smell her perfume and shampoo. Your eyes focused on her, and she lightly stuck out her tongue, which you found extremely cute and distracting. As you gently took her hands, you could feel her calluses even with gloves on, you showed her a movement she had to do.

"Thank you for letting me help you," she said shyly, and you gently squeezed her hands.

"No problem. Plus, it's your Ballon d'Or," you shared a quick, soft look. "Actually, you're doing me a favor. Working with gold is my least favorite thing to do. You made it a little more tolerable."

"I'm glad to hear that," she chuckled. "I hope I didn't distract you too much from your work this week," she confessed insecurely. Insecurity didn't suit her well.

"Did you distract me? Yes," her face fell a little. “Do I care? No. We wouldn't be here now," you reassured her, and she lightly nodded in response. "So, on Saturday, I'll have to find ways to distract you from the game, so then we'll be even," you bumped her shoulder playfully.

"I never get distracted," she said confidently. You were glad to see her back to her confident self.

"Is that a challenge?" you raised your eyebrows.

"No challenge. It's a fact."

"Are we back to being all confident now?" you smirked playfully. "Well, now I'll definitely make it my main goal for Saturday to be able to distract you."

"And how do you plan to do that?" she turned to you defiantly.

"My master plan will be divided into plan A, which I still have to devise, and plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I kinda do?"

"Too bad," you chuckled playfully.

It was 6 PM when you decided to go home. You had stayed with Aitana for more than three hours, but strangely enough, it felt like thirty minutes. You had discovered a new side of her that you couldn't get enough of.

She was different in real life from when she was on the pitch—still driven and determined, but also funny, kind, and gentle. She cared about so many things and was so busy, yet she had time to be with you for more than three hours.

She loved books and days spent at the beach. Her passion for football encompassed her whole life, and you admired how passionate she was about her work.

She reminded you of yourself and your love for art. When you asked her about her favorite books, you were surprised when she replied with nerdy titles. Looks could be deceiving; Aitana Bonmatí was a bit of a nerd, and you loved it.

She walked you back to your car with your bag on her shoulder, insisting that it was too heavy. As you reached your car door, you quickly turned to her. "So I'll see you on Saturday?"

"Definitely."

"Don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?" you couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, boss," this time, you received a poke on the ribs. "Ow!"

"Thank you for today. I really had fun. I thought working with gold was going to be more boring."

"It wasn't, thanks to you," you wanted to hug her. No, you felt the necessity to do so. Unceremoniously, you brought her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her neck and drawing her closer. After the initial shock, she wrapped her arms around your waist and held you tighter. The hug lasted longer than necessary, but neither of you wanted to let go.

There was a pull that made you not want to leave her embrace. It was comforting, and even if you didn't realize it at the time, you really needed it. After some time, you broke off the hug, said your final goodbye, and left for home.

—

Upon arriving home, you noticed a light emanating from the living room. Initially startled, you thought it might be an intruder. However, upon entering, you found your annoying brother standing there with his arms crossed.

"Jesus Christ! I thought you were a burglar! Idiot!" you exclaimed, smacking his arms in frustration.

"Hi to you too, sis," he responded with a smirk.

"Why didn't you call me?" you asked, placing your bag on the floor before embracing him.

"I needed to talk to you, and I knew you'd find an excuse not to see me," he explained.

"You live in Manchester!"

"I'm back. Got transferred back to Barcelona."

"For good?" you inquired eagerly. Ciro, your brother, was one of the best sports physiotherapists globally, having worked with Man City for almost two years.

"Yeah, got a call from Barcelona. You know I can't say no to that. Plus, I really wanted to be home," he replied.

He towered over you, twenty centimeters taller, with medium-length wavy hair that made heads turn. You both represented the opposite ends of two worlds—you loved art, he loved sports.

"I'm glad you're back," you said warmly, stepping back from the hug.

"Now, why did I have to hear from Mom that you were sick?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Ciro, I wanted to tell you, but you were busy with work. I really didn't want to worry you."

"You should've told me," he said sadly. "I would've been there. Could've come sooner."

"And do what? I'll start my treatment next week. There's not much you can do."

"I can be there for you. We made a deal to always stick together. You're my older sister, you've always been there for me. The least I could do is to be there for you," he insisted. You sighed sadly, realizing he was right. You should've told him. Perhaps you wanted to protect him, or maybe you feared that acknowledging your illness would make it too real.

"Did you come home because of me?" you asked tentatively, hoping for a different answer.

"As much as Man City pays, Barcelona is my home. And I really missed my sister."

"You're such a suck-up! What do you need?" you teased.

"Well, now that you ask... I might need a place to stay."

Rolling your eyes, you replied, "You can take the guest room."

After settling his stuff in the guest room, you both decided on pizza for dinner. He insisted you make the call, but you refused, playfully tossing his phone back to him. As soon as he returned, you sat on the couch to catch up on each other's lives. It had been months since you'd seen each other, and despite your reluctance to admit it, you missed him.

"Are you also working with Barca Femeni, or only the men's side?" you asked.

"I still don't know. Definitely covering all the home games and the key players if they're injured. Unsure about the away games."

"I have tickets to Saturday's game for the women's side if you want to come," you offered.

"I'll probably have to cover that game, being the first one," he replied with a suggestive smirk. "Why do you have tickets for a football match? Weren't you against 'the sports'?" he teased, using air quotes.

Blushing lightly, you retorted, "I never said I was 'against the sports.' I just prefer books to football games."

"Then why the sudden interest in watching a football match?" His face lit up. "Is it for a girl?" he asked excitedly.

"No girl!" you insisted, though thoughts of Aitana flickered in your mind. "Just felt like it."

"Then why are you smiling?" he persisted, tossing a pillow your way.

"No particular reason," you lied.

"Okay. You'll tell me when you're ready," he said with a knowing smile.

—

Fast forward to Saturday, and Ciro settled into his new job quickly. He primarily worked with the men’s side, working on Gavi and Balde, the most serious injuries at the moment.

On Saturday, he was to finally meet the women’s side in preparation for the game. Patri was the first to arrive, followed by Pina and Bruna. Aitana was the last, there for additional ankle support.

Upon seeing Ciro, Aitana gave him a strange look, as if he reminded her of someone.

"Hello?" Ciro greeted, puzzled by her expression.

Quickly snapping out of it, Aitana apologized, "Oh, hi, sorry! You kinda looked like someone familiar. I apologize if I gave you a weird look." Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "I’m Aitana."

"Hi. I’m Ciro. I’m the new physio. What can I do for you?" he responded.

During their time together, Ciro realized that Aitana was very chatty about nerdy things like books and coffee places—things that reminded him of you and how well you two would get along.

"You said you just came back from Man City, right?" Aitana asked.

"Yes, I did," Ciro replied.

"Did you know that the first atom was split there?" she commented, making Ciro chuckle. She would really get along with you.

"I think you’d be friends with my sister. She said the same thing when I left to go there," Ciro remarked.

"I guess it’s common knowledge," Aitana stated confidently.

"No, it’s not. But I’ll reply the same way I replied to my sister: who cares about atoms, when Manchester is home to the annual World Pie Eating Championship," Ciro chuckled.

"You got a girlfriend there?" Aitana asked unexpectedly.

Blinking at the question, Ciro replied with a crooked smirk, "Why, are you interested?" It was playful banter, no ulterior motives.

Raising her hands defensively, Aitana replied, "Nope, you’re not really my type."

"Then I should really introduce you to my sister," Ciro teased.

"Nah, I’m already interested in someone else. I’m sorry," Aitana smiled brightly.

"Too bad," Ciro finished up her ankle. "You’re all set. I’m sorry if this conversation was unprofessional. Please don’t report it to the club," he added with a tense smile.

"Don’t worry. We were just talking. But I do have to say, the more I see you, the more you look like a person I know," Aitana observed.

"Well, I hope they are great. I don’t want to leave a bad impression," Ciro replied.

"She’s wonderful," Aitana said before heading to the pitch.

—

Meanwhile, you were getting ready with Eva to go to the Estadi Johan Cruyff.

"So your brother’s back in town for good?" Eva asked.

"Yeah, he’s currently crashing at my apartment until he gets a flat of his own. Feels like we’re back to being teenagers living together for Uni," you replied, putting on Aitana’s shirt and giving it a subtle sniff.

"How’s that going?" Eva raised her eyebrows.

"So far, so good. She’s my friend," you reassured her.

"So, you told her about your condition, right?" Eva asked sternly.

You fell silent. "I’ve been meaning to! I just haven’t found the time yet."

"You need to tell her," Eva urged.

"I know. Let me just ignore it for a little longer," you replied hesitantly.

"She won’t go away, you know that?" Eva reassured you.

"I don’t care about that. We’ve only met three weeks ago. I don’t have some sick attachment issues, okay? I... I just really care about her," you admitted.

"I know you do. Or else we wouldn’t be going to a football game just to see her," Eva said with a smile.

—

At the Estadi Johan Cruyff, Aitana had secured great seating spots for you. As they warmed up, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. When she spotted you in the crowd, her face lit up with a huge smile, and she excitedly waved at you.

The game started quickly, with Aitana making a significant impact on the field. Her passing was precise, and she dribbled past opponents effortlessly.

In the first 15 minutes, she had already made an assist and nearly scored a goal. At the thirtieth minute, she scored a remarkable goal from outside the box, prompting you to cheer loudly.

However, the next action worried you. A harsh tackle left Aitana clutching her ankle in pain. Thankfully, your brother quickly tended to her, and she was able to continue playing, albeit with some discomfort. At halftime, Ciro was still with Aitana, leaving you concerned. But what concerned you more was that she didn’t return for the second half, replaced by another player.You quickly sent a text to Ciro, hoping he’d see it.

**You:** Where are you?

**Ciro:** I’m at work, idiot. You saw me.

**You:** I know, but right now? Is everything okay with Aitana?

**Ciro:** Yes, why? Why are you so concerned?

**You:** She’s my friend. Can I come and see her?

Aitana was perched on the physio bed, visibly annoyed that they’d taken her off at half-time.

“Hey, Aitana,” Ciro turned to her, puzzled by her behavior, away from his phone. “How do you know my sister?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Who’s your sister?”

“Y/n?” He stated, as if it were obvious.

“Like Y/n Y/ln? You’re his brother?”

“Yeah!”

“I didn’t know that! She never mentioned she had a brother. That’s why you looked like her!”

“She wants to come and see you. I can’t let her in, but you can if you want.”

Aitana blushed lightly, a fact Ciro noted but didn’t comment on. Internally, she thanked him for it.

“Yeah, of course she can come if she likes.”

He smirked knowingly, making her blush again. “I’ll go get her. Then we’ll have a small talk on how you have the hots for my sister,” he teased, leaving the room.

As soon as you saw Ciro in the hallway, you understood immediately that he had something in mind.

“Since when do you know Aitana Bonmatì?”

“Since I worked on her Ballon d’Or. We’ve become friends.”

“Only that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Ciro. Only that.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. You are way too worried.”

“Shut up,” you smacked his stomach hard, making him whine. “And not a word about this around her, understood?”

“Can I say one thing?”

“Then you’ll shush?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“She’s really nice and chatty. I get why you like her. Plus, she’s really hot, not to mention your type?”

“You really want me to get violent on you?” You hit him again.

“Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

“You didn’t deny it though…” You hit him again, this time harder. “This one was my fault. I take it back.”

You both reached the door to the physio room. “Now get back to work, Ciro.”

“So bossy! I hope Aitana likes this side of you!” He teased, and you replied with a glare that clearly said, "I’m going to hit you." Your patience was really getting tested. “Bye!” He quickly left to get back on the pitch, while you opened the door.

—

She was sitting still on the physio bed, with some ice on her ankle, still dressed for the match, and lightly pouting.

“Hey,” as soon as she turned to you, she brightened up.

“Hey!” You approached her. “How’s your ankle?”

You took her in, noticing she looked exhausted even though she only played for 45 minutes. Even though you saw her play, you were glad they let her rest.

“It’s good. They took me off for ‘precautionary measures,’” she rolled her eyes.

“I’m glad you’re healthy,” you replied, turning around to show her you were wearing her jersey.

She grabbed both sides of the jersey and dragged you in between her legs. “You have it on!” she said excitedly.

“Of course! I only wear the best! Great game, by the way,” you lightly caressed her thigh, next to her knee, to give her some reassurance. “You scored a banger!”

“Thank you. I’d rather have played more, though,” she pouted, making you smile at her cuteness. “By the way, what was your secret plan to make me distracted?”

You chuckled lightly, completely forgetting. “Plan A was to distract you just by my presence,” you bragged jokingly, making her giggle and earning you a poke in the ribs.

“That’s not true. You just didn’t think of anything to distract me with,” she said confidently.

“Maybe.”

“What was plan B, then?”

“Becoming a pitch invader or just flashing you,” you said dramatically.

“I would’ve definitely loved to see that,” she gave you a playful smirk, lightly gripping your waist a little harder.

You chuckled, smacking the back of her head. Then, you looked at her properly, changing the mood of the conversation. Her eyes looked so tired. “You look exhausted. You still have the elastic band in your hair. Isn’t it uncomfortable?”

“I’m just too lazy to take it off,” she confessed bluntly.

You rolled your eyes and then gently took it off her. “There you go. Do you want me to take out your ponytail too?” You looked into her eyes once again.

“You don’t have to. I can do it on my own,” she said shyly.

“I know you can, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to be near you.”

Her face softened, making you melt like chocolate under the sun. She nodded slowly, and you sprang into action. Taking a step closer, you gently took off the elastic band and looped it around your wrist. You scratched her scalp a little, making her release a relaxed sigh. Chuckling lightly, you took a step back to give her some space. As you were about to take another step, she quickly grabbed you, bringing you even closer to her. Swallowing some of the tension, you realized she was in control now and wanted you closer. You quickly looked at her lips, then back to her powerful gaze.

“You don’t have to find an excuse to be closer to me. I always want you near me all the time,” you tucked your head down to hide your blush, not wanting to show her how much those words had affected you. She gently grabbed your chin and raised it to her level.

“Don’t hide from me. I love it when you blush,” she teased.

“Stop doing that,” your face flushed again.

“Doing what?”

“Being all confident and so close to me. It’s distracting.”

She smirked in response. “Maybe that’s the effect I want you to feel. I’ll let you go if you feel uncomfortable,” she reassured you.

You replied by simply placing your hands on the sides of her face, playing lightly with her baby hair.

“We’ve been skirting around it for two weeks now. Don’t you feel the same pull towards me that I have with you? It’s consuming, and it feels so good,” she admitted.

It was intense, obliterating in a sense, yet you couldn’t resist it. You hated not feeling in control. Acting upon these feelings wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I feel it too,” you removed your hands from her and took a step back, seeing her expression change. You could feel her disappointment. “So much. But I can’t,” you sighed defeatedly. “It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Why?” she asked vulnerably. “Do you have a secret boyfriend or something?”

You took a deep breath and decided to tell her. She deserved to know. You couldn’t continue like this.

“Aitana, I have ca—”

The door opened, and the entire team barged in. You subconsciously took another step back and let the team swarm Aitana. They were checking up on her, but her eyes never left yours.

“Hey, you’re the art restorer!” Patri pointed out.

You quickly changed your demeanor to something more cheerful. “Yes, I just came in to say hi to Aitana. I was just about to leave. I’ll see you.”

You quickly left to reunite with Eva and then headed home.

—

Later that night, you were going to a club to celebrate your colleague Pablo’s birthday, but for you, it was also the last party before you had to start your treatment.

The whole thing with Aitana earlier that day had left a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt like an asshole and couldn’t shake the feeling that things could have gone better between the two of you.

Realising that you never asked for her phone number and that you had finished your work for the club, you concluded that you probably wouldn’t see her again.

So when you left for the beach bar with your friends, you decided to indulge in some vodka. Eva didn’t question it. She knew that sometimes, when you were out with your friends, you stopped being the responsible one and drank more than usual to have some fun. Pablo and Eva always made fun of you because you never had filters and would always create chaos, but you never went overboard.

You were in the middle of the night, two drinks in, and you started telling your friends that you loved them. They only chuckled in response. You alternated between depressing states and euphoric ones, making Eva, who was also intoxicated, extremely confused.

The whole night shifted again when you saw a group of girls entering the bar, including the one girl you thought you’d never see again. As soon as she saw you, she tried to approach you. She wanted to talk about the conversation you had earlier that day, but you tried to drunkenly escape the conversation. It did not work.

A few moments later, you were met with her standing in front of you while you were sitting down at the bar stools. She saw that you were drunk, and her serious appearance faded for a moment.

“Can we—Are you drunk?” she asked.

“Yep,” you confessed without even trying to hide it. “What are you doing here?”

“We are out celebrating the win. What are you doing here?”

“The birthday party,” you slurred. She had her nose ring on. You loved it when she wore it. “You have your nose ring on. I really like it,” you tried to raise your hand to touch it, but she quickly stopped you.

“How much did you drink?” she asked, concerned.

“Not that much. Why are you so serious? I don’t like it when your face scrunches up.”

She chuckled at your drunkenness. “You are so drunk. I’ll take you home.”

“Nooo. You just got here, plus my friends are about to leave,” you protested.

“It’s no biggie. You need to get home to sleep it off.”

“I think I should. On Monday, I have my first treatment. I shouldn’t feel hungover,” you blurted out.

“You have your first what?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“What?”

“A kiss. You know, the ones you give to a person with the lips,” you explained, while she slowly took your hand and led you out of the bar.

“I know what a kiss is. I don’t think I should give you a kiss, given your current state. And the fact that a few hours ago you rejected me.” You were out now.

“Wait. Why are we outside?”

“I’m taking you home.” She states.

“You tricked me. You are one little sneaky son of a bitch.” You pout, making her laugh.

“You drunk, is the highlight of my day.”

“That’s so sad.” You cover your mouth with your hand childishly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She giggles in response. “I still want a kiss from you. And I want to you to know that I didn’t in fact reject you. I just told you that I can’t.” You specify.

She leads you to her car without you realizing it. “I hope you are not one of those people who takes me to their car and then try to kill me.” She opens the car door and helps you inside.

She buckles your seatbelt, and due to the closeness, you blurt out. “You are very beautiful. The most perfect face.”

She chuckles, lightly shaking her head. “You are very beautiful too.” She gives you a quick kiss on the temple and round the car to get to the driving seat.

“Was it that difficult to give me a kiss?” You ask her rhetorically, making her roll her eyes at you.

“Can you tell me your address?” She sat down on the driver’s seat and gently turned your head towards her to get some attention.

“I don’t wanna go home. My brother is there.” You whine. “Let’s go to the beach.” You say excitedly.

“Y/n you are drunk. If you don’t tell me your address I’ll bring you to my home.” Aitana tells you seriously.

“Is that an invite?” You smirk suggestively.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Y/n.”

“Calm down. I was just joking!” You grinned.

“I should probably text Eva.” You sober up and sent her, very slowly, a text.

**You** I’m going hmoe with hot footballer. See you on mnoday. I’m drukn but I love you.

The drive pretty much sobered you up. You were still blabbering nonsense to Aitana, talking to her about the most random things. When you arrived, you quickly noticed that you weren’t in your apartment complex.

“I knew it. You brought me here to kill me,” you said, fed up.

“We are at my home.”

You opened the car door and got out before she could help you. “This whole building is your house?!” you said, shocked, while she quickly walked up to you.

“No, you idiot. I have an apartment,” she giggled lightly.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you? Getting to see me like this.”

“I am definitely enjoying this. Too bad I can’t make any videos of you like this,” she said, placing a hand behind your back to stabilize you until you got to her apartment.

You curiously wandered around her living room, taking in her home. It was just like her. Every decoration, every piece of furniture reflected her in some way, only something was missing.

“You should get some artwork to fill up the walls. Your house is beautiful, Aitana.”

“Thank you. I guess you can definitely help with that, don’t you think?”

“Not in this condition.” You sat on the couch, while you waited for her to join you.

“You wanted to talk?”

“Not with you like this, tomorrow morning?” she offered, but you weren’t on board with that.

So, with a swift movement, you sat on her lap, taking Aitana by surprise. You placed her hands on your waist and blurted out. “I’ll talk then. I really like you, but I can’t be with you right now. The connection you feel between us is so real and intense that it scares me. You have been one of my biggest blessings in disguise since you came into my life.”

“I’d rather talk about this when you’ll remember it, but I really like you, and I would like to know why we can’t be together.”

You were sober enough to stop yourself from telling her the truth. “I’ll tell you tomorrow morning, I promise.”

You gently rubbed her shoulders, feeling all her muscles, making you giggle.

“What?” she asked, tickling you for a second or two. She was back to being her unserious self, and her crinkle disappeared. Probably it was because she knew that you were safe now.

“You are so muscular.” You squeezed her biceps. “If we were in a zombie apocalypse, would you protect me from all the zombies? You go fend off our enemies while I do the housewife and part-time art restorer. Maybe zombies make art, who knows?”

“Okay, I will,” she indulged you.

“You promise?” You asked her seriously.

“Yes.”

“Pinky promise?” You raised your pinky, and she laced it with hers. “Now it’s sealed.”

“Let’s go to bed,” she spurred you to stand up and walked you to her bedroom. She quickly gave you some spare clothes to change, leaving the room for you to have some privacy. She gave you some Barcelona shorts and one of her old t-shirts.

Somehow, every item had her typical perfume, and that special something that was characteristically hers. You were now a little more sobered up, which made you less chatty and with some inhibitions.

As you opened the door of her bedroom to see where she was, you saw that she was getting the couch ready to sleep.

“Aitana, come to bed. I can take the couch. You already did more than enough for me today.”

“It’s no biggie,” she shrugged.

“No, it’s a big biggie.” You walked up to her and literally dragged her into her own bedroom. “You take the bed.”

“Then we’ll both take it.”

“We can do that.” You waited for her to take her usual side, then you climbed on the other side. She turned off the light, and you moved to your side to face her. “Thank you for tonight. You didn’t have to, but you still took care of me. You are truly one of the most amazing people I know.”

She kissed your forehead. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

She laid on her back, making you subconsciously go near her as much as possible, until you looped your arm around her waist and cuddled into her. In response, she gave you another kiss on the temple and nuzzled into you.

—

The next morning, you woke up with a headache. An arm was keeping you down, and as you opened your eyes, confusion swept over you.

Aitana was still softly sleeping on your side. Memories of last night flooded back into your mind. You guessed that she felt you stir awake because not even a minute after you had woken up, she woke up too.

“Good morning,” she said gently, moving away from you and sitting up, quickly stretching herself. You basically mimicked her movements on the other side of the bed and followed her to the living room.

“Coffee?” she offered.

“Definitely,” you replied, sitting down at her kitchen table. “Can I have a glass of water? My head is killing me.” She quickly retrieved it for you and got back to preparing the coffee. “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable last night.”

“You didn’t. I’ve thought about what you told me yesterday: that you can’t be with me because it wouldn’t be fair to me. I think… no, I’m certain, that we can work it out together,” she said hopefully. She was still standing when you chuckled sadly.

“Aitana, you don’t know how much I’d want that. But being with me right now isn’t worth it, and I won’t ask you to wait for me because that wouldn’t be fair to you,” you admitted sadly.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Whatever it is, we can—”

“Aitana, I have cancer.”

Now she sat down. “You told me you had anemia,” she said defensively, not really believing you.

“I do also have anemia. That’s why I’ll start chemo so late from the diagnosis,” you released a sigh.

“Is—is it curable?” she almost whispered, almost not knowing how to take the news.

“Thankfully, I found out early about the tumor. The doctors said a 70% success rate.”

“Where is it?”

“Thyroid cancer. It’s a little bump next to my vocal cords.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she pleaded, almost offended.

“Because...I didn’t want you to see me in a different way,” you confessed as your voice cracked vulnerably.

“I could never see you in a bad light. You are a fighter, Y/n, remember it.”

“Do you understand why I can’t be with you?”

“Yes, and I call it bullshit,” she remarked determinedly.

“What—”

“You know, statistics say that only 30% of relationships last the first year. You literally have more hope to live than us being together.”

“And so?”

“And so, why are you denying us to yourself?”

“Maybe because in the next month, all my hair will fall off, I’ll be as weak as I’ll ever be, and I won’t be able to work anymore?” you said sarcastically. “Do you really want a girlfriend like that?”

“I want you, Y/n. We’ll just have to go through the bad times first before the good parts.”

“You know, Aitana Bonmatì, you are one stubborn woman. You never stop until you get what you want, huh?”

She nodded confidently.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to give you an out? For God’s sake, I have cancer! I might die, and I don’t want you to ruin your life to take care of me. I can’t be that selfish. I care about you way too much!” you replied exasperated, still with your head pounding.

She rounded the table and knelt down next to your legs, taking your hands. “It’s not a decision you can make for me. If you won’t let me be there for you as your girlfriend, then I’ll be there for you as a friend. For the record, I care about you too. And even if you already have Eva and Ciro, I won’t let you go through this alone.”

“We could never be friends, you know that?” you gently caressed her cheek, and she leaned into the touch.

“I know. But you are in control, okay? Let me just be there for you, please,” she practically begged you in the last part. You made her stand up while you thought for a moment.

“You won’t surrender, will you?” Your face adorned with a sad smile, while she shook her head. “I’m just a stranger, Aitana.”

“You are way more than that, and you know it,” she paused for a second. “You would do the same for me.” You nodded. You’d probably do worse if you found out that she had cancer.

"Let's take things slow, okay?" you concede, rising from your seat and placing your coffee cup on the table. "I should probably go home. Tomorrow I start chemotherapy, and I should probably rest," you say with a tinge of sadness. Making your way to Aitana's room, you change back into your clothes. After about five minutes, there's a knock on the door.

She slowly opens it. "Do you need me to drive you home? It's no biggie," she offers.

You nod slowly. "Can I come with you for your chemo?" she asks, her voice tentative, not wanting to overstep.

"I don't want you to see me like that," you explain, seeing her disappointment. "But maybe you could come and pick me up afterwards? We can go to lunch somewhere," you suggest.

"I'd love that," she replies with a small smile. "By the way! I think it's time for you to give me your phone number! I still can't believe we haven't exchanged numbers," she chuckles, and you hand her your phone.

She bursts into a giggle, sending you a knowing smirk. "I'm glad to hear that Eva is happy you went home with a hot ass footballer. The next part of the text, it's better that I don't say," she teases, causing you to blush profusely.

"I'm sorry," you mutter, covering your face with your hands.

"Oh no. I love it," she counters, smirking confidently as she tosses your phone back to you. As you unlock it to read Eva's texts, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

**Eva** Fucking finally!

Now go and sex up that hot ass footballer!

"Damn it!" you exclaim, exasperated, prompting a chuckle from Aitana.

The drive back home is mostly silent. As she stops right next to your door, you're unsure how to bid her goodbye. It's been a heavy morning for both of you, and you need time to process everything. You had intended to push her away, give her an out. But she refused to give up, surprising you.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right? You'll text me?" she asks, her voice tinged with insecurity.

You reassure her with a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Tani. Thank you for everything." With that, you exit the car and wave one last time before entering your home.

Sitting on the couch with a sad expression, you stare at the turned-off TV. You feel awful, like you've made Aitana feel awful. Groaning loudly, you bury your face in your pillow.

Ciro emerges from the guest room, eyeing you. "Rough night?" he asks.

"I told her," you confess.

He sits next to you and pulls you into a hug. "Did it go badly?"

"No, I guess. Is it bad if I wish she had just told me to get out of her life?"

"No," he replies, rubbing your back soothingly. "But I'm glad she'll stick around."

—

Meanwhile, Aitana returns home and collapses on the couch, her face turned toward the wall. She lets out a light but painful sob.

"Damn it."

In the afternoon of the same day she found out of your cancer, she had a recovery session at Barcelona. For the first time ever, she just wanted to stay home.

Despite being off during all her training, her teammates didn’t ask what was going on, as she's not one to let her emotions affect her play. But that day, she was anything but focused. Ciro noticed and approaches her during a water break.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi, Ciro," she greets him, trying to hide her emotions.

"You good?"

"I'm good. Just tired."

"You know you can talk to me, right?" Aitana nods and rejoins her teammates.

"When did you become friends with the physio? Are you over the Art Restorer?" Keira asks.

"Her name is Y/n, and that's her brother," Aitana replied emotionless.

"The hot gene really does run in their family," Patri remarks, earning a smack from Keira.

—

Your first chemo treatment isn't as bad as you feared. Your energy isn't drained at all; in fact, you're super alert, probably because of the steroids.

Aitana arrives half an hour early and joins you in the hospital treatment room.

You're nearly finished; you just have to complete the saline shot.

"Hey, how are you?" Aitana enters the room and gives you a quick hug before sitting beside you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't happy to see her. Her smile melts away your worries in an instant. She's here, and that's enough to lift your spirits.

"I'm nearly done. How's training?" you ask.

"It's good. We worked on free kicks and rondos, so some light stuff. I brought you some snacks," she says, handing you dried fruits and nuts. "I read that the first chemo might make you feel drowsy, and since you also have anemia, I brought you some food with iron."

You smile softly, thanking her with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Tani." Opening the bag, you search for some almonds. "I hate raisins," you remark.

"Just give them to me," she offers, and you quickly pass all the raisins to her as you eat the rest. "I don't know how you like raisins," you say, giving her a disgusted look.

"They're just fruit," she chuckles.

"How was the treatment? Do you feel sick?" she asks, worry evident in her voice.

"For now, no, probably because of the steroids. I should bring something to do next time," you say, your gaze softening. "About yesterday, we're good, right? I felt like we left each other on a bitter note.”

"It's okay. It was a pretty intense day. Let's just move forward, okay? So, I'm thinking... Let's go get some food, then we'll start our DreamWorks/Disney marathon. What do you say?"

For the past two weeks, the two of you had been discussing doing a movie marathon, and since you both liked kids' movies, you settled on that. However, there was one point of contention: she argued that Disney movies were better, while you favored DreamWorks. So the two of you had started arguing about which was best, and the winner was yet to be decided.

"I'm feeling great! We don't have to barricade ourselves in one of our homes. We can go to the beach and maybe take a walk," you offer, not wanting to confine her to spending the entire day indoors with you, knowing she's a very active person.

"Oh no! We have to finally settle this debate! It's been going on for too long now! Plus, you're going to need all the rest you can get, and I don't mind keeping you company," she insists.

"Are you sure?" You check once again.

"Yes, I'm sure," she reassures you.

—

Her idea proves to be right because as soon as you get home, you feel the steroids wearing off, with a sudden tiredness enveloping your body. As you drive to your home to start the movie marathon, Aitana notices almost immediately, quickly taking your hand and gently squeezing it, not letting go until you arrive.

"Your home is so full of books! I love it," she says excitedly as she steps inside your house.

"I love reading, and I have a college degree and currently doing my second specialization. I guess I have been the culprit of the death of some trees," you joke.

You fetch your grandma's blankets that she knitted for you, then return to the living room.

Aitana is already sitting on the couch with her arms open, waiting for you. Despite wanting to be held by her, you fear she might feel uncomfortable, so you sit on the opposite side.

She looks at you quizzically and then drags you to lay on top of her. You release a content sigh and proceed to hug her sides, fully taking in her body against yours. "Didn't you get the memo? From now on, I'll be your designated cuddle buddy," she giggles.

"Oh my god! How stupid! I completely forgot!" you joke.

She holds you tighter as you search for a movie to watch together, settling on "The Little Mermaid." You start to drift off, only remembering a faded kiss on the temple and a whispered, "You rest. I'll be here when you wake up, mi sirenita."

Approximately an hour later, Ciro returns home after spending the day with the men's team. He's really worried about you and how the treatment went, but he doesn't expect what he sees. You're lightly sleeping on top of Aitana, while she watches a movie on TV.

"Hey," he whispers.

Aitana's head shoots up to look at him. "Hey. She just fell asleep; the drugs wore off, and she got tired."

He smiles softly at the sight of his sister with someone who cares enough to be with her, even while she's sleeping. "How are you feeling?" he asks her.

"Oh, I'm good. She let me come inside while she finished up her treatment, and we had lunch at that place she always talks about."

"I'm glad she lets you be with her. She's stubborn, but don't give up. She'll come around," he reassures her.

She looks at you. "I really hope so," then turns back to Ciro. "Oh, you should text Eva! Y/n told me that she would text her, but I guess she forgot; she might be worried." Hearing all of this chatter, you stir awake, still drowsy.

"Tani, where is all this sound coming from?" you asked her groggily, still keeping your eyes closed.

"Ciro is here," she informed you.

"Hi Ciro," you lightly waved at him, then cuddled up against Aitana once again.

"Hey, how was chemo?"

"Tiring," you replied.

"I can see," he chuckled.

You raised your arm to show him the middle finger. "Okay! I'll wake you up later; you have to call mom."

You grunted at the thought. "Okay, okay. But now let me sleep."

"Do you want to go to bed?" Aitana asked you.

"You are too comfortable!" you replied.

"Why don't we go to bed? We'll be even more comfortable," she giggled.

"Okay," you slowly removed yourself from her and walked with her to your bedroom.

As soon as Aitana laid down on the bed, you resumed the same position as before. You indeed were more comfortable.

"You are the best cuddle buddy, Tani. Thank you." You gave her a kiss on the corner of her lips and fell back into a deep slumber.

—

Approximately an hour later, you woke up. You patted your bed to find Aitana, but she wasn't there. You quickly got out of bed, feeling a little better, and went to the living room to get a cup of water. In the kitchen, you found Ciro.

"Where's—"

"She left about five minutes ago; she had to do some media stuff with Barcelona, and she didn't want to wake you," he explained.

—

For the next two weeks, you had fallen into a routine. Whenever you had chemotherapy, Aitana would take you back for lunch away from the hospital, and sometimes you would take small walks together or watch movies if you were extra tired. In those two weeks, you had gotten a chance to know her better. The more you talked to her, the more you couldn't picture yourself without her.

She was incredible. But most importantly, you loved how she made you feel. She was always so supportive, never failing to make you smile, but most importantly, she was ever-present.

Eva and Ciro would tease you so much because whenever she was around, you became a completely different person: nicer and more compliant. However, the mood from the first two weeks changed when you started losing hair.

You never really gave much thought to your hair; it was long and wavy, and honestly, you never thought about how being bald would actually make you feel. When single locks of hair started falling out, it was really a punch into reality. You had cancer, and your hair was falling out. Still, you didn't tell Ciro or Eva about it, and especially not to Aitana.

You were currently cuddling up next to her while she gently caressed your back. You had just finished your treatment for the week, and you were more exhausted than usual. Your throat was hurting, and your legs were aching as if you had just run a marathon. Aitana was rambling on about a book she started reading that you suggested.

"It's actually so good, no wonder you have great tastes in books," she lightly praised you, giving you a kiss on the scalp. She then tucked your hair behind your ear, but the lock remained in her hand.

"Since when have you been losing hair, Y/n?" she asked softly.

You moved away from her and sat on the couch, realizing that you had just lost another lock of hair. "It's been a week now," you uttered sadly. "Let's just not think about it, okay? I don't want to talk about it," you got defensive.

One thing that you didn't want was for Aitana to see you actually sick or suffering the consequences of cancer. One thing was tiredness, but another thing was losing hair.

"Do you maybe want to shave it all off?" she tried.

"Aitana, I don't want to talk about it, please."

"Okay, okay. I'll stop talking." You felt ashamed and embarrassed that she saw you like this, weak. So you completely closed off from her.

"It's getting late," you looked at your watch. "Tomorrow you have practice, and I have to study. I think that you should leave."

"Wha—"

"Aitana, please," you pleaded, with a vulnerability in your voice that you really didn't want to show.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped." With that, she left.

—

You took a loud sigh and went to the bathroom. Your brother's electric razor sat on the counter, and you just looked at it, unable to bring yourself to use it. You tried to convince yourself that you weren't actually losing her, but that didn't quite work.

Whenever you touched your hair, a lock would fall off. It was time to shave it off. Sitting down on the bathroom floor, you sighed deeply. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice when your brother came back home.

He appeared in the bathroom after a couple of minutes. "There you are! I thought you left. Where is Aitana?"

"I told her to leave," you said absently, still looking at the razor. He looked confused, both by your state and how you had kicked out Aitana. "My hair started to fall off. I've been trying to shave it off all afternoon, but I can't." You broke down crying at the last sentence.

"Gosh, I feel so stupid! I never bothered until now about my hair, and now all of a sudden, I can't get rid of it!" Frustrated, you punched your leg.

He sat down next to you and grabbed the razor from you. "But it's not just hair, isn't it?" he stated simply. "Losing hair is a physical reminder of what you are going through. It's scary, especially because you are someone who deals with problems by ignoring them."

You released a choked-out chuckle. "It's scary. You have cancer, you can die. Just like dad. And losing your hair may feel like you are out of control, like your body isn't responding to you anymore like before. But it's just hair." He turned on the razor. "Hair will grow again eventually." He moved the razor next to his scalp, making you react almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" You tried to move his hand away from his hair, but he wouldn't budge.

"I'm showing you that you are not alone, and for as long as you are in this fight, we are in this together." He quickly shaved a whole strip of his hair.

"Are you an idiot! Why did you do that?!" You said angrily, knowing that he would most probably pull off something like this, and even if you begged him not to do it on multiple occasions, he still did it. He didn't bother with your angry tone as he kept shaving off his hair until he was nearly all bald.

"See! It's just hair. Losing your hair is tough, but you know what? It's just another step until you get better. You are a fighter, and you are stronger than this." You were at a loss for words, so you just hugged him.

"Did you search on Google how to talk with your family member who has cancer?" You chuckled lightly, trying to break a little tension.

"I did," he said honestly, earning a small giggle.

You stayed a while inside his embrace, but then you soon remembered why you were in the bathroom. "I think I'm ready to shave it off.”-

—

After a very intense and emotionally charged afternoon, you found yourself sitting on the couch wearing one of your old Adidas beanies. You realized that one drawback of being bald was the constant feeling of coldness. Touching your head without any hair on it was something you had to get used to. It felt strange yet oddly cathartic, signaling your readiness to continue with the treatment.

"So, are you going to tell me why you kicked out that poor girl who's been following you like a lost puppy since you met her?" Ciro jumped on the couch to sit next to you.

"She's not a lost puppy."

"Well, she's been ever-present, bringing you food and always taking naps with you even when she could be doing other stuff."

"Don't make me feel guilty," you said defensively.

"That's exactly what I'm trying to do. You haven't fully given her a chance, and I believe she wouldn't want anything more than for you to give her a chance. You are all she talks about." His confession made your cheeks redden, trying to hide away the stupid smile forming on your face.

"I don't want to hurt her," you uttered sadly.

"By pushing her away, you are doing just that."

"I know, but what if I give her a chance and it goes wrong? What if she decides it's too much, or I don't make it? I can't deal with that."

"What if it works? You're simply denying yourself some happiness, which I think you fully deserve."

"Why are you being so wise today?" You tried to change the subject.

"I'm just trying to help out my sister, plus I really hope that if the two of you get together, she'll stop talking about you during the physio sessions. That girl is chatty," he chuckled.

"I should probably go and talk to her," you said.

"She should be home; she told me she needed to rest for tomorrow's practice."

You put on your coat and left for Aitana's apartment with newfound determination.

#woso imagine #barca femeni #woso x reader #aitana bonmati x reader #aitana bonmati #alexia putellas #woso fic #barcelona femeni

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