(Leah Williamson and OC)
The kiss didn't feel like fireworks. It felt like gravity.
Like something settling into place after years of floating just out of reach.
Her lips moved against mine slowly, carefully, like she was trying to memorise the shape of my breath. And I let her. I kissed her back like I'd been waiting my whole life to do it, because maybe I had.
When we finally pulled apart, she kept her forehead against mine.
"God," she whispered, "I've wanted that."
My voice was wrecked. "You don't get to say that unless you mean it."
"I mean it," she said. "I mean it so much it's terrifying."
I wanted to believe her. And part of me did. But another part the bruised part couldn't help asking:
"What about Elle?"
She closed her eyes. "I hurt her. I know that. But I didn't cheat. I didn't lie. I ended it when I knew it wasn't fair to keep pretending."
"And us?" I asked. "Is this fair?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I'm tired of pretending I don't feel what I feel."
A silence fell between us, thick but not uncomfortable. Just... full. Full of everything we'd tried not to say. Full of months of almosts and maybes.
She reached for my hand again. I let her lace her fingers through mine.
"Can we just sit here?" she asked. "Just for a little while?"
I nodded. "Yeah. We can sit."
So we did.
We sat on my floor, backs against the wall, fingers tangled, hearts loud in the quiet.
No more pretending.
Just us.
________________________________________________________________________________
The next day, everything felt louder.
The way people looked at us at training. The way Katie raised an eyebrow when Leah touched my back a little too gently. The way Lotte grinned when we walked into the café together, slightly too close.
Nothing had been said. But everything had changed.
Leah and I hadn't labeled it. We hadn't figured out what came next. But when she caught my eye across the pitch, her smile lit something in me that felt like peace.
For the first time in a long time, I wasn't waiting.
________________________________________________________________________________
A week later, it rained during warmups. Fat drops soaked our socks, turned the pitch into a slip-and-slide of chaos.
Leah pulled her hoodie tighter and shouted, "Oi, Winters! Bet you still won't beat me in speed drills!"
"Wanna bet?" I yelled back.
She jogged over, hair dripping, eyes sparkling. "Loser buys post match dinner."
"You're on," I said.
We lined up. Sprint. Laugh. Race. Collide. Fall.
She landed beside me, soaked and breathless, and looked at me like I was something sacred.
"I love this," she said. "Being with you. It's easy."
I smiled, wiping rain from her cheek. "You make it easy."
But that night, when we sat in her flat eating takeaway, she got quiet.
"I need to tell Elle," she said. "About us. About me."
I froze, fork halfway to my mouth.
"You don't owe her anything," I said.
"I do," she replied. "I owe her honesty. And maybe closure."
I nodded. "Okay."
"Will you wait for me to do that?" she asked.
I looked at her, this girl I'd built my world around, and said, "I've waited this long, haven't I?"
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "Not much longer. I promise."
________________________________________________________________________________
The next few days were strange. Leah was more distant not cold, just distracted.
I tried to give her space. But it was like watching a tide go out, not knowing if it would come back.
Then one night, my phone lit up.
Leah: Just told her. I'm coming over.
________________________________________________________________________________
When she arrived, she didn't say anything.
She just wrapped her arms around me, buried her face in my neck, and breathed me in.
"She cried," she whispered. "But she understood. Sort of."
I stroked her back. "You did what you had to."
"She asked me if I loved you."
I froze. "What did you say?"
Leah pulled back, looked into my eyes.
"I said I didn't know yet," she said. "But I want to."
That hurt a little. But it was also the truth. And in this weird, fragile thing we were building, truth mattered.
I kissed her again.
Not to drown the words. But to thank her for them.
________________________________________________________________________________
Weeks passed.
We kept it quiet, mostly. For now. We trained, we laughed, we snuck moments in between drills and matches and team dinners. And every day, it got a little more real. A little less terrifying.
But some nights, I still lay awake, wondering when the other shoe might drop. Wondering if Leah would wake up one day and realize she missed her old life. Her old love. Her old certainty.
One night, I voiced it.
"What if you change your mind?" I asked in the dark.
She turned to face me, voice soft but steady.
"Then I change my mind with you in my arms. That's a risk I'll take."
I didn't have an answer to that.
Just a heart beating so loud it shook the quiet.
________________________________________________________________________________
And maybe it wasn't perfect.
Maybe it wasn't even a love story yet.
But it was something.
A start.
And for now, that was enough.
