Fencing The Line ( A Glassheart Short Story)

Locker Room Secrets

As much as Red would never admit it, Thursday was her favourite day of the week.

Some might think it was because of fencing practice. Being the star player gave her a rush, a surge of pride that carried her through the day. Others might assume it was the thrill of her nighttime escapades, roaming the streets to leave her mark in bold, defiant strokes of graffiti.

But they'd all be wrong.

Red's favourite day of the week was Thursday because it was the one day she could shove Chloe into a locker—and Chloe would willingly let her do it.

Like a shackle, Red pinned Chloe's hands to her sides against the cold metal lockers in the changeroom. Their lips crashed together with the same fiery intensity as every Thursday before, Red always taking the lead, determined to have the upper hand even off the strip.

Chloe sighed into the heated kiss, a sound that was music to Red's ears, drowning out the chaos beyond the walls. But she had made sure the doors were locked—because getting caught would be scandalous, and kissing Chloe was like treason.

Treason against every insult, every shove, every ounce of disdain they had publicly shown each other. They were rivals on the same team, and despite how reckless it seemed, neither girl was about to let themselves get caught. Especially not in a position as compromising as this. Red's hands tangled in Chloe's curls, pulling her closer, deeper into the kiss that echoed off the walls.

Chloe's hands slid down to Red's hips, her grip firm and demanding, sending a shiver down the red-haired girl's spine as her fingers crawled under the uniform. The warmth of Chloe's touch, coupled with the aggression in her grip, was intoxicating. Red wanted to bask in this moment forever; this was their Thursday ritual, their secret escape from the world. But something was different today—Chloe was pulling away.

Chloe broke the kiss, placing a firm hand on Red's chest to keep her at a distance. Red leaned in, desperate to close the gap, but Chloe shook her head, her breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

"We can't," Chloe whispered but Red was too preoccupied with how gorgeous Chloe looked with her flushed cheeks, puffy lips and dishevelled hair to listen. "Practice starts soon, and I can't be late, unlike you."

Red huffed, her frustration palpable. "Can't it wait just a minute more? Coach Jay is allergic to being on time,"

Chloe sighed, her voice softening with a hint of exasperation. "Not the point, Princess. The championships are coming up, and we can't afford to mess up, especially not now." She begins to smirk, "It's cute how needy you are for my attention, but let me breathe."

Red scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Being born with natural talent is all we need for the championship finals. It's not like your plays make much of a difference."

"Is it really that hard for you to not be insufferable? Genuine question," Chloe sighed, pulling herself together and gathering her things. "We can finish this after practice. And no hickeys this time—Bridget was down my throat about the last one."

Red smirked, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Such a shame. I should be the only one down your throat."

Chloe shot her a glare, rethinking every life choice that had led her to this moment. "Listen here, 'star player,' head to practice on time, or else I'm writing you up to Coach. That's an order from your captain."

"Is your authority supposed to mean something to me?" Red teased, her smirk widening. "I'll just catch you after practice, Charming. Try not to trip on your ego on the way out."

Chloe rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at her lips as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'll take you down with me then,"