Talia creates tornadoes in various places as she boards her plane and enters a two hour radio silence.

In Barcelona, Alexia parts with her mother and sister, who are both outraged at the recent news, to hurry to Pina's flat. She's been broken up with. Over the phone.

Here, Leah Williamson is pacing around her living room with me sprawled out on her sofa, driving herself insane with newfound protectiveness over her teammate. "She's going to be alone in England," mutters the captain with her head in her hands. "The poor girl was assaulted and then banned from her home country, and we have put her up in a hotel in Borehamwood? Not even St. Albans. Borehamwood, Fleur!"

"It's a nicer hotel," I try to comfort her.

"When does her flight get in? We can pick her up. Or I can get Beth and Viv to... does she know Viv through you?" It's quite late and I doubt Viv or Beth want to drag themselves to the airport. "Nah, it should be us. I mean, I am an Arsenal player, and you're her friend already."

"I was hoping to sleep."

"She's practically a child. Can she speak English?" She walks back and forth until I stick my leg out to trip her up (and then quickly retract the obstacle once I remember why she wasn't at the World Cup). "She must be so scared."

"Talia's quite tough." She likes to throw herself into complicated situations, and she has gone through it for the past few months anyway. "I reckon she'll not want anyone to see her upset anyway. She's just broken up with her girlfriend, too."

"She what?!"

Okay, yeah, maybe that didn't help to ease Leah's panic.

"I don't know. Alexia thinks it has something to do with her 'lack of commitment'. She thinks her cousin is way too carefree, but I think she is just comparing her to how she was when she was her age, and well, you would've heard about how restrained Alexia Putellas can be." I find it adorable that Alexia takes herself so seriously, but I think that is only because I am not scared of her. "If you really insist, we can get her, but I don't think she'd want that." Leah's eyebrows furrow as if she thinks I am trying to isolate my friend. "I just... understand the position she is in, sort of. When I moved to Barça, it was a fresh start. The idea of having no prior connections or obligations was good. I could be someone new."

"Yeah, but you're still the same annoying Chelsea player you once were. Just in a different kit."

"I know, but the initial thing was that I wanted to be alone and mysterious and broody." Leah stops moving, standing still in the middle of her living room. "I'm just saying that Talia probably needs a moment to sort her head out. I'll text her tomorrow and see if she'd like to meet up or anything."

My sister's girlfriend, whose house I'm not entirely sure needed to be included on my mini-tour of England, hums in thought for a moment. She takes in the bags under my eyes and my far-too-comfortable position on the sofa. And she acquiesces.

Well, until the next day.

We forage out into the centre of St. Albans in case Talia is wandering around, much to my protest. Then, when we do not find her, I am roped into lunch with Arsenal girls of whom I don't really care about. And Viv!

"Coping?" she asks me quietly in Dutch when she catches my eye from the other end of the table. Viv is well aware of the pressure that has built up on me ever since her injury, and I am certain, from the slight red in her eyes, that she feels guilty about it. What was once a shared load became something I had to carry on my own.

"Coping," I confirm with a nod.

"Fleur, how's the documentary going?" asks one of the other girls, and I am pulled away from the ledge that would take me down to the feeling of defeat if I were to jump off it.

Later on, we return to Leah's house to relax. Jaimie is bored in the airport before her flight to the US, and so Leah is occupied for two hours while I workout in her living room. I'm not doing this week of preseason and Barça, and I'm obviously not going to Mexico (even if they gave me the option to fly out later with Mapi and Alexia). Leah will have treatment tomorrow and Talia is supposed to be signing things then too, so today is just a waiting game for something more exciting to come.

Leah gets off the phone and sheepishly joins me on the sofa, allowing her uncharacteristic silence to be filled by the clicking of the PlayStation controller in my hands. "You showered?" She sniffs the air. "It doesn't stink around you for once."

"While you nattered to your girlfriend, I actually managed to create an entire nightclub on GTA. You're welcome."

"Don't tell Jaimie I bought a PS5," Leah warns me sternly, but her eyes light up when she sees what I have done to her world. It's pretty cool. "She wanted to get me it as a gift."

"Oh, I really couldn't care less."

Leah bites the insides of her cheeks while I turn my attention to the mission I am on – one to increase the popularity of Fleur's Angels. Then, she clears her throat and pulls her phone from the pocket of her tech fleece with an awkward rustle. Her pupils practically form hearts, but her eyes are wide. "I wanna show you something."

I glance at her. What has got her so terrified?

"It better not be a ring, Williamson." I watch her open her Photos app. The conversation morphs into something that might be more important than the virtual nightclub, and so I place the controller on the arm of the sofa and stare at her. "You're not that bad, but it's way too early for you to be asking her that."

"It's not a ring..."

"And does Jaimie even want to get married? You do know that her body count surpasses that of, I don't know, a cocaine-fuelled celebrity?" I raise an eyebrow at her, carefully watching how her pale skin colours itself bright green.

"I've been made aware, yeah."

"I mean, a ring would be pushing everything," I continue, spiralling for my sister. "Does she want children? Have you talked about that?"

"We're not getting married, Fleur."

Honestly, Jaimie hasn't brought up families recently. As one would expect, whenever our cousins have another child we both imagine our own futures, but no one is pregnant as of right now. "That's a really good question, actually. I can't remember whether—"

"Fleur."

I blink at her. That must be Leah Williamson's 'captain voice'. "What?"

"Look."

She shoves her phone in my face, familiar red and white instantly catching my attention.

"It's an Ajax jersey?" A second later, more information comes to mind. "1996." The year she was born. Leah's fingers pinch and separate, and she zooms into the badge. Or, rather, the writing below it.

"Do you–?"

"Is that... Leah, can you be my girlfriend?" I squeal, jumping up from the sofa in sheer excitement. "How the fuck did you find that?! What has she even done to deserve that?"

A 1996 Ajax home jersey signed by Johan Cruyff should not even be on sale.

I would keep it in a vault.

"I am going to forget what you just asked me," starts Leah with a laugh. She has gone red. "But, um, I know she hates her birthday and doesn't want gifts so I thought I'd just get her something at a random time. Pass it off as love or whatever. Plus she's, like, moving in with me and giving up her mansion for this place."

"She's definitely downgrading. She had a tennis court."

"Exactly." Leah, bright crimson against the grey fabric of her sofa, watches me cautiously as I withhold my jealousy by rocking on my heels. "Will she... like it?"

"She'll hate it." Her face falls. "I'll gladly have it, though."

"Are you joking?" I shake my head. And then I take pity on her and smile. "Okay, good." She breathes out a sigh of relief. "It should come next week so I can bring it with me to San Diego." I didn't know Leah was going to watch her tournament, but it's sweet that she is. She groans loudly. "God, you know you actually had me for a second. I hate you so much, Fleur. I hope you lose your player of the year award. Maybe even your stupid golden ball, too."

"I like the English translation of that."

"Lekker translation," she mocks sarcastically, sticking her tongue out. I tell myself that the only reason I am suffering in St. Albans with her is because Calvin Klein called my agent two days ago and asked if I could shoot for them in London.

━━━━━━━

"And the winner is... Fleur de Voss!"

Alexia has texted to say that it is unfair to do a photoshoot in my underwear and get dressed up on the red carpet all in one week. I only look up from my phone when Aitana nudges me.

"I don't have a speech," I hurriedly whisper to her, panicking as I start to get up.

"Just think of something," she urges.

Helpful.

I black out the rest of that evening.

I actually – embarrassingly – black out the entire duration of half the team being in Mexico (it's two days). Possibly due to the very felt absence of a particular player. And Esmee, of course!

Before they return from the tour, I sort out my apartment so that Esmee has a place to live that doesn't resemble a dusty cupboard or a pigsty. A trip to IKEA and some arguments with Lucy (and Ona Batlle, who has joined from Manchester United and seems to enjoy spending time with us) is all it takes to get my spare bedroom furnished, fitted with a nicer bed frame, a wardrobe, and other random things I could think of.

I pick every resident of my building up from the airport. They aim to pile into my car, chattering away, and everyone watches as Alexia and I smile at each other in a simple greeting before I hug Esmee tightly and promise that we can speak in Dutch at home.

Alexia is clever enough not to follow me into my apartment, though we take the lift together with everyone's luggage (the suitcases and people would never fit). When the doors ding open on my floor, and Mapi and Ingrid have already started their ascent upwards, I kiss her cheek goodbye. "I'll visit you later."

"You make her blush." Esmee's smirk is audible as I let us into the apartment. "And thanks for the room."

"You're paying some of the rent, you know." She can't afford half, but she can certainly contribute.

She makes a vague noise of acknowledgement before launching herself onto the sofa to test it out. She scares the shit out of Oli, who is curled up in the corner. He yowls and almost sprints out the open front door, but Mapi has scolded me already about being a bad pet-owner (Alexia got the same lecture, to her absolute irritation) and so I make a huge effort to chase him in the other direction.

Esmee watches, laughing her head off. "I'm glad that entertained you," I grumble, retying my bun and plopping myself down next to her.

"Hey, I'm just taking the funny moments while I can before the only thing you say turns into 'I love her so much' and I begin to feel sick."

I snort. "Won't happen."

"Yeah, yeah. I saw the way you looked at her." She pauses. "Do you have TikTok? There's a sound that goes 'eyes don't lie'." Esmee begins to laugh, clutching her stomach. "They're gonna edit the shit out of you two the entire season. I can't wait."

Though I push her face into the sofa cushions in the moment, I do download the app later to see what she's on about. 

notes: 

something light-hearted to kick off the 'happy era' of this fic

sorry for the absence -- I've been sorting out nla AND something on Tumblr that looking back I should've started after I'd finished this

thanks for reading!!!