Woso imagines

Alexia < the rule

When you first joined Barça, Alexia was a mystery to you. Her reputation had preceded her—captain, star of the team, adored by fans, admired by her teammates. But there was something about her that felt almost untouchable. She wasn't cold, exactly. She was kind, in her quiet way. If someone was struggling, she'd give a supportive nod or a clap on the back, a reassuring "You've got this." And whenever someone scored, she was the first to throw her arms around them, her smile wide as she celebrated alongside them.

Still, there was a distance, a quiet reserve about her that seemed to hold everyone at arm's length. Her kindness was there, her support was there, but it felt...controlled, restrained, like she was always aware of the boundaries she set around herself. You'd often catch her standing just on the edge of the celebrations, offering a warm smile and a congratulatory pat without ever fully letting herself be swept away.

But then, six months into your time at Barça, things between you and Alexia changed. What started as a friendship had deepened, turning into something you hadn't anticipated. The spark between you both had been undeniable, and soon enough, you'd found yourself in a relationship with the very person you'd once thought was a mystery.

It didn't take long for you to realize just how wrong your initial impression of her had been. Because with you, Alexia was anything but reserved. In the quiet moments you shared, she was softer, gentler, and, much to your surprise, incredibly affectionate. She'd hold your hand at every opportunity, her fingers laced with yours as though they were meant to fit that way. When she hugged you, she didn't hold back—her arms would wrap around you tightly, her face nestled into your shoulder as though she wanted to be as close as possible.

You quickly noticed she seemed almost insatiable when it came to touch. She'd come up behind you while you were tying your cleats, wrapping her arms around your waist in a back hug, her chin resting on your shoulder as she murmured a soft "Hola, mi amor." She'd pull you into a hug before training, her embrace lingering just a second too long as if she needed that extra moment with you before letting you go. After practice, she'd hold you close, her arms snug around your waist, breathing in slowly like she was recharging just by being near you.

It became clear that with you, there was no distance, no reserve. Her affection came in constant, steady bursts, like she was trying to make up for all the times she had to hold back around others. And you didn't mind one bit. In fact, you loved it.

Early on, you realized that Alexia was like this because she wanted—no, needed—that closeness. And you'd noticed how, sometimes, she'd hesitate ever so slightly before letting go. She'd hold onto you a second longer, her hands reluctant to leave their place at your waist or her arms slow to drop from around your shoulders. Those little moments were enough to make you create a rule for yourself—a rule she didn't know about.

You decided you would never be the one to end a hug first.

If Alexia hugged you, you wouldn't pull away. It didn't matter if you were on the training field, surrounded by teammates, or standing in the hallway outside the locker room. If her arms found their way around you, you'd let her be the one to break the embrace. It was a quiet promise you'd made to yourself, a way to give her the comfort she seemed to crave, even if she wasn't fully aware of it.

This rule led to some interesting moments. In training, she'd hug you after a good play, her arms wrapping around your shoulders as she laughed in that bright, happy way that made her eyes crinkle. You'd stand there, arms wrapped around her, waiting patiently as she let herself bask in the moment. She'd eventually pull away, her smile wide, but there was always that split second where she seemed reluctant to let go.

After matches, when you were both exhausted but happy, she'd lean into you, her forehead pressing against your shoulder as she sighed contentedly. You'd just hold her, your hands tracing soothing patterns across her back. If anyone noticed, they didn't say anything; they'd just smile knowingly, used to the sight of their captain held close in your arms.