"Loving the Enemy"||Leah Williamson

### Chapter Five: Unfamiliar Familiarity

## Y/n's POV

I wake up to the sound of gentle snoring. Turning my head, I see Leah slumped in the chair beside me, holding my hand. A small smile creeps onto my face despite the dull throb in my head. I glance to my left and notice a purse on the bedside table.

"Hmm, I think that's mine," I muse, reaching for it.

I rifle through the purse, finding a lipstick, a wallet, and a phone. I open the wallet and see a stack of 100 and 50-dollar bills, credit cards, and my ID. I smile faintly before setting the wallet aside and grabbing the phone. It unlocks instantly with Face ID. The first thing I see is Instagram, so I click on it.

"Wow, 70.5 million followers!" My eyes light up. I scroll through my posts, recognizing some from movie sets

and red carpets.

There's one of me winning an Oscar

—every moment perfectly captured. My latest post is a picture with a woman.

Confusion washes over me, but I recognize her. "Yes, that's the woman who came to my room. Emma... Emma, what again?"

We look close in the picture, but why isn't there any with Leah? Only with Emma, mostly. Curious, I search for Leah Williamson and find her profile. Strange, I'm not following her. I check her posts and spot one where she's shirtless. My eyes widen, and before I know it, I've liked the picture.

"No, no, no!" I quickly unlike it, feeling my hand squeezed in return. I turn and see Leah smiling, rubbing her eyes.

"Liking a post of me shirtless, I see, Y/n."

"Why am I not following you?" I ask. "And I saw my posts—they're only with this Emma, but none with you."

"Well, babe, because we wanted to keep it a secret at first," Leah explains.

"Well, I don't want to anymore." I show her my phone screen, having just followed her. Leah chuckles.

"Okay, here, I'm following you back now." Leah shows me her phone, confirming it.

I go to my contacts and see "Watson💚" at the top. "Wait, Emma Watson, that's the woman who entered my room." I see other contacts, like Manager Lisa and some I don't recognize.

Leah rubs her head and loosens her ponytail. "Leah, why don't I have you in my contacts?" I ask.

"Because I got a new number. Someone leaked my old one, so I got a new phone and number," Leah replies.

"Give me your phone," I demand.

"What?" Leah says, a bit taken aback.

"Give me your phone, babe, and go to contacts," I insist.

## Leah's POV

I hand Y/n my phone, feeling my pulse quicken. I haven't lied so quickly in my life. I hope she believes the stories I've spun. Y/n clicks around on my phone and soon hands it back to me. I look at my screen and see a new contact: "Tu Hermoso chica ♥️💖."

"What does 'Tu Hermoso chica' mean?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It means 'your beautiful girl,'" Y/n says with a smile.

A knock at the door interrupts us. The doctor steps in. "Good morning, you two. Y/n, how are you feeling?"

"I feel good, to be honest," Y/n replies.

"That's good because you're free to go!" the doctor announces. "Your girlfriend already signed and filled most of the paperwork, but you just need to fill this."

Thank goodness I could search Y/n on Google and fill in her birthday and other details. I also found out more about her, like Emma Watson being her girlfriend or ex-girlfriend Ig. Eww. Why would Y/n date her? There are so many better options. Anyway, I definitely need to block Emma everywhere on Y/n's phone until she figures out I'm not really her girlfriend.

After Y/n finishes the paperwork, Lisa, her manager, brings clothes for her. Y/n changes and puts on sunglasses from her purse. In the hallway, I spot the agent from last night.

"Agent, how are you?" I ask.

"I'm good. Is my car okay?" he replies.

"No scratch," I assure him.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n L/n. I'm a big fan of both of you," he says, shaking Y/n's hand.

"Thanks, nice to meet you too," Y/n responds.

"Agent, let's make a deal: let me drive your car to Y/n's house, and you get a picture with us," I offer.

"100% sure, let's take it," he agrees.

We take a picture and say goodbye, his car keys in my pocket. As we approach the exit, we see a swarm of paparazzi. Y/n takes my hand and rests her head on my shoulder. I'm a bit surprised but realize she's nervous.

"Hey, it's fine. You got this," I reassure her, squeezing her hand.

Y/n smiles, nods, and we exit the hospital, cameras clicking furiously.

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Authors note:

It's „ruhe Tag" but here is a chapter.