flashes ✦ julian draxler

+ one shot: annalise

mid 2021, new york city

STELLA STIRRED IN HER BED, feeling a soft hand shake her shoulders lightly. Their voice was low and caring, "Stel, wake up," The blonde model opened her eyes to her American best friend peered over her.

"Hmm?" she murmured.

"I called your agent; she's sorting something out with Vogue to reschedule a shoot in Paris. I called your manager and she's arranged for a private jet to be ready in about 2 hours at JFK. I also called Gina to pick you up at the airport when you land in Paris at around 3 in the afternoon. I explained what happened; I hope you don't mind," Gigi explained softly, brushing the girl's hair.

It was about midnight, and for the past day, the girl had been feeling incredibly nauseous, leading to a very unexpected conclusion. It was just her luck that it had to happen over the few days that she was out of her country, and doing something incredibly special to her- a US Vogue cover- well one that had to be postponed anyway since she could hardly leave the hotel room.

"Thanks Gi," Stella hoisted herself up slowly, adjusting to the light in Gigi's spare room, "I'll start packing now."

"And i'll help," Gigi offered kindly, "I wish I could have come with you, but you know, I have a Tommy shoot."

"You've already done so much for me," Stella mused, "It feels kind-of déjà vu, honestly."

"Not feels kind-of like- this is totally déjà vu, Stel! Literally, two years ago, you were in this bed throwing up and I had to what I just did," she chuckled, "Why is it that you always find out while you're here?"

"Beats me, Gigi, beats me," Stella sighed, opening up her suitcase that wasn't even fully unpacked anyway, "I prayed that this time the nausea wouldn't be so bad, but apparently it's worse."

"Worth it, though, isn't it?" the American smiled, patting Stella's stomach lightly, "I better be godmother, alright?"

"Yeah," the French-girl giggled, "Now, are you taking me to the airport?"

About 10 hours later, Stella found herself biting on her lip to stop the tears from escaping as she walked through a busy Charles de Gaulle. The nausea was sure irritating.

A guard marched either side of Stella, who was dressed in leggings, a hoodie with the hood pulled up, some trainers and a pair of dark sunglasses. She swore to have heard the flashes and clicks of a few shutters, but she payed no mind and concentrated on getting home without breaking down.

Stella quickly spotted her best friend leaned up against a blacked-out SUV, and Gina made no hesitation to wrap her arms around the girl, "Hey Stel. How are you doing?"

"I really hate morning sickness and all day nausea. I threw up twice on the plane," Stella complained, "I just want to get home and see Jule and Gio."

"Well that's what we're going to do," Gina opened the door for her while one of the guards put Stella's suitcases in the trunk, "I dropped off Gio back at yours like an hour ago after Julian finished morning training."

"Thank you for taking care of him," Stella dropped her head to her best friend's shoulders, "Wouldn't trust anyone else in the world."

There was idle chatter between the two on the way home, and there wasn't the same amount if Stella and Gina were their normal selves, as this time, Stella was quiet as she was afraid that if she'd opened her mouth too wide, all the food and drink she had eaten would've come out. The car soon pulled into Stella's arrondissement, and conversations ensued again.

"How are you going to tell him?" Gina was smiling to herself subtly; she loved the fact that her best friend had a family of her own with a man she lowed so dearly.