Breaking the Grid

Pizza

The match was... fine.

Arsenal were down one, the second half had just started, and honestly, I was more focused on the feeling of Alessia's socked feet pressed lightly against mine and the low chatter between us and Vic than the game itself.

I was in one of those lazy moods—hair tied up, hoodie drowning me, blanket half on the floor, half tangled around my legs. Nothing dramatic. Just warm. Comfortable. Resting.

Alessia had ordered pizzas earlier, classic Friday ritual, and we'd all been half-watching the screen and half-talking nonsense.

Thirty minutes in, the doorbell rang.

I groaned. It was my place, but I was so comfortable I might as well have been glued to the cushions.

"Vic, can you...?"

She rolled her eyes but stood up. "If it's a vampire, I'm not inviting them in."

"Pizza's not a vampire," I mumbled, eyes flicking back to the TV.

But Vic was gone for a while. Longer than usual. And I could hear her voice. Low at first, then louder. Laughing?

I glanced at Alessia.

She looked back at me, one eyebrow raised. "She okay?"

I sat up slightly. "Maybe she's flirting with the delivery guy."

"Hope she tips well."

The sound of the door closing finally echoed back through the hallway, followed by more footsteps.

And then—

"...Kyra," Vic called out, amusement dripping off her voice.

I frowned. "What?"

"Your pizza's got a bonus topping."

I blinked. "What?"

Then I heard it.
That voice.

"You're gonna make me carry the box and the emotional weight of this relationship?"

I froze.

My head turned slowly—almost too afraid to believe it.

And then—

There she was.

Blair.
Standing in my hallway.
Pizza box in one hand, Milo tucked under the other arm like an oversized teddy bear.
Cap pulled low, jacket unzipped, smile lazy and familiar.

Like she hadn't just been across the continent a few hours ago.

Like she never left.

The air left my lungs.

"...You're in Portugal," I said dumbly.

"Not really," she replied, stepping forward. "Hi, amore."

Alessia made some soft noise next to me—like a mix between a laugh and a damn, but I barely noticed. My eyes were still locked on Blair, who now set the pizza and Milo down and opened her arms like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I didn't even realize I was moving until I was across the room.

No hesitation. No questions.

I crashed into her, arms wrapping around her neck, pulling her in so tight she stumbled forward a step. Her laugh vibrated against my shoulder.

"I missed you," I whispered, the words spilling out like a confession.

Her hands were already holding my waist. Steady. Warm.