Intoxicating

Back to Reality

Leia's POV

The gym was electric, the roar of the crowd so loud I could feel it vibrating in my chest. I stood on the bleachers, gripping the sleeves of Timothée's old basketball hoodie, my heart racing as the clock ticked down the final seconds.

We were up by one point, but the other team had been gaining fast. The tension was unbearable, and I was practically bouncing on my toes as I watched Timothée dribble down the court. His movements were so smooth, so effortless, and yet I could see the intensity in every step, every pass, every glance toward the hoop.

He was going for it. I knew it.

"Come on, Timmy," I whispered, barely audible over the chaos.

The ball was in his hands as the seconds counted down-five, four, three-he stopped just outside the three-point line. My breath caught. He was going to shoot.

The gym went silent, like time had slowed down. I watched as the ball left his fingertips, spinning perfectly as it arced toward the hoop.

Swish.

The place erupted. The sound was deafening, the stands shaking as everyone jumped to their feet, screaming and cheering. I didn't even realize I was moving until I found myself running down the bleachers and onto the court.

My heart was pounding as I dodged players and coaches, my eyes locked on Timothée. He'd just turned away from his teammates, his face flushed, his smile so big it could've lit up the entire gym.

And then he saw me.

I didn't stop. I threw myself into his arms, and he caught me like he always did, his hands firm on my waist as he spun me around.

"You did it!" I exclaimed, barely able to hear my own voice over the noise.

He laughed, breathless, and set me down, his hands sliding up to cup my face. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Before I could reply, his lips were on mine, right there in the middle of the court. The cheers got louder, people hollering and whistling, but I didn't care. The only thing I could focus on was him-his warm lips, the way his hands held me like I was the only thing grounding him in the chaos.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and he was still grinning. "You're my good luck charm."

I laughed, my chest tight with pride and love and so many emotions I couldn't even name. "I think you're just good, Timmy."

He shook his head. "Nah, it's definitely you."

I looked around at the crowd, at his teammates celebrating and the confetti falling from somewhere above. And then I looked back at him, standing there with his jersey damp with sweat, his hair a mess, and that smile that made me feel like nothing else in the world mattered.

People kept coming up and congratulating him on winning. He apologized for them all but I shook my head, understanding it all.

"Go on," I told Timothée with a smile, still catching my breath from the kiss. "Take your time. You just won state-people are going to want a piece of you."

He gave me a lopsided grin, his hand brushing my cheek briefly before stepping back. "I'll find you afterward."

"Always," I said softly, watching him turn and disappear into the chaos of teammates, reporters, and coaches.

I made my way out to the hall to escape the cheers and clapping for a moment.

Colby's voice echoed down the empty hallway as he called out my name. I stopped mid-step, my shoulders tensing. I'd been avoiding him since I got back, hoping I could escape this exact conversation. Slowly, I turned around, bracing myself for the confrontation.