"What...?" I breathe nervously.

"I barely even like soccer anymore," Link explains with a sigh. "And baseball even less... for obvious reasons."

"But..."

What am I supposed to say to that? All this time I have been trying to reach for his hand to pull him up when he didn't even want to get back up... If he doesn't want to play sports, I would be a horrible girlfriend if I tried to convince him to continue. It would go against everything I've been saying about his fans and the unnecessary pressure they put on him. But watching him give up feels just as wrong. He has so much potential... He shouldn't just... quit.

"I'm sorry, I'm processing," I whisper after a few seconds of unbearable silence.

"Me too... Sorry."

"You don't want to be an athlete...?" I ask to be sure. "Do you even want to work in the field of kinesiology after you graduate?"

"I don't know."

My heart is pounding so heavily and I don't even know why. This decision doesn't affect me, really. I suppose it's just so unexpected...

"I don't know what I want to do after I graduate... and it sucks."

"I understand that..."

"You've had your life planned out since forever though. You know exactly what you want..."

"No, trust me, I relate to you in more ways than you think. I haven't decided on what I want to become after I graduate yet, but... Sweetheart... You're halfway done with your degree, you have to make a decision on what to major in pretty soon." Was that harsh?

"I know..." His chin dips down to his chest in an attempt to hide his eyes from me...

I scoot closer to place my hand on his leg. "Hey, it's okay."

He shakes his head. "My family sacrificed so much for me."

"They want you to be content. That's all we want for you... If retiring from sports is what will make you happy, then we will respect that decision."

"No..."

"Yes." My hand guides his chin upward but his eyes still dodge mine. "Look at me," I bid.

"Zelda..."

"Look at me," I request more assertively this time. His puppy eyes look up at me and don't dare to leave my gaze again. "Your life is yours alone," I tell him. "Not your family's, not mine, not your fans'. It's yours. And those people around you who love you will stand by your side. We will stand by your side."

That gave it away, didn't it? I practically just told him that I love him... Or maybe he didn't catch onto that. I hope he didn't... this isn't the right time for my first I love you.

"I don't know what to do..."

"I can't tell you what to do either," I sigh, wishing there was a way, any way, for me to help him with this. "No matter what you decide, I'll have your back. So... just try to think about yourself when you make that decision."

"I can't..."

"May I ask why?"

"Because it affects the people around me."

"No, I mean why don't you want to be an athlete anymore?"

"Because I don't want to be a failure anymore! I don't want to keep disappointing people."

"But... isn't quitting worse than losing a game? I just don't understand. If you really don't like sports anymore, fine, but I find it hard to believe that. I've seen your eyes light up on the slopes and you seem to have loved soccer growing up. So... if it's really just the pressure that's making it difficult to enjoy–"
"That's not–that's not the only reason, I... I just don't think I can get back in shape again. Not after all these surgeries and taking half a year off. I'm getting older too, I'm almost out of the prime age for athletes. Even if I can fully recover, catching up and getting back to where I need to be to play professionally is just unrealistic at this point."

"I'm not a doctor so I won't fight you on that but I feel the need to point out that you can be an athlete even if it's not professionally. You don't have to be the best in everything. Although I do believe that you can if you put your mind to it, you don't have to exceed everyone else. You can still play soccer and compete. Doesn't have to be for the national team but... I do think you're skilled and experienced enough to be an athlete despite everything that happened this year."

"I guess..."

"I'm not saying that to persuade you to do anything, I'm just stating my opinion. What you do with that is up to you. I'll be by your side no matter what, I promise. If you decide you can't or don't want to be an athlete anymore, then I support you. And if you decide you do want to be an athlete, then I'll support you all the same."

"But... didn't you once say that you were only interested in me because I'm an athlete?" He asks quietly.

"What? No, I never said that!"

"Maybe not... I swear I remember you saying something like that but if I were you I wouldn't trust my messed up brain either."

"Your brain is not messed up. It's possible that I said something along those lines but didn't mean it the way you took it. I... see you for you, not just for your career. I hope you know that."

"Yeah... no, I do. That was dumb of me to say. Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about. I just want you to know that I am with you because you are kind and selfless. And determined and loyal and courageous. And because you are honest. And strong. And—"

His hand cups my cheek as he leans in to kiss me. "Thank you..."

"Of course..."

"Have you considered becoming a teacher?"

"What?" Where is that suddenly coming from? "That's a very acute change of topic."

"Not really. You said you don't know what to do after college."

"I want to win a Nobel Prize, not watch over a crowded classroom full of little germ-bags who can't keep their fingers out of the holes of their unproportionally big heads."

"I think you'd make a great teacher, just saying."

"After what I said just now you think I'd make a great teacher?" I chuckle sarcastically.

"Yup."

"What makes you think that?"

"You are smart and you like to give people facts and correct them."

"What a polite way of saying I'm a know-it-all smart-ass."

"You know what I meant."

"Trust me, I do not have the patience to be a teacher. I don't even know if I like kids."

"Wait, you don't like kids?" He frowns.

"I said I don't know if I like them. I haven't really spent much time with children. Even when I was a kid myself, I spent most of my time with adults. Impa was perhaps the only person that brought some normality to my childhood. I can't relate to kids and frankly I don't think kids like me very much either." Aryll is the best example for that.

"What about Riju? You guys get along well."

"Riju is not a normal kid. She acts like an adult, which might be exactly why she is the only kid I interact with."

"But you want to have kids someday, right?"

"What?"

Is he... does he mean... with him? No, of course not. He's just asking in general. Right?

His question startles me. I did not expect us to go from him wanting to quit sports to me not knowing whether I want to have kids. Maybe I should just nod? I haven't really thought about it in depth and I don't want to just give a half-honest answer. This might matter to him more than it does to me.

"I don't... know..." I answer honestly. His mien is impassive, though he does seem a little surprised. "I haven't really thought about it." He's blushing now... Should we just change the topic again or should we talk about this? "Do you?" I ask him back before my mind can truly comprehend my options.

"Yeah, I guess."

"I–" have no idea what to reply to that. Suddenly a small, understanding smile appears on his lips. "What?"

"Nothing. You're just..." he pauses.

"What?"

"I'm glad I have you in my life."

How can he be so sweet after finding out that the girl he is dating doesn't know whether or not she wants to have a family one day? Wouldn't any other boyfriend be disappointed right now? Or angry? Doesn't he care? Is he not planning on having his kids with me? Is he not planning on dating me long term...?

No, this is me overthinking it. Right? We are young and Link is probably just not taking this as seriously as me. I should know by now that he doesn't overthink things the way I do. He's probably not even thinking about having his kids with me in particular. Or he might think my opinion on children might change in the future. Or he isn't thinking about it at all anymore. Who knows?

"I'm grateful for you too," I answer flustered.

"I guess I'll have to start thinking about my future soon."

Is he referring to his career or our relationship? I wish I could turn my brain off. Or at least the department that is giving me a boost of anxiety right now.

"Look," he turns one of the photos for me. I forgot that we were looking at old pictures. It's him in elementary school, presenting some kind of project... It's a peculiarly shaped object with smudges of paint on it. I can't tell what it is but he looks pretty angry in the picture with red cheeks and a harsh frown. I'm assuming he got a bad grade for this project. "You don't recognize it?" he asks.

"Should I?"

"A while back I told you about a vase I made in pottery class. And how I broke everyone else's vase after I dropped mine. Welp, this is what it looked like before it broke."

"I see now why you would break it," I laugh at the picture. "It looks pretty bad."

"Insult my pottery skills all you want, but don't you dare say I broke it on purpose! It was an accident, you know that! It wasn't my fault," he defends.

"Sureee," I tease him.

"I'm warning you!"

"Warning me?" I laugh. "Of what?"

"You don't want to find out!"

"It looks like somebody took a seat on your vase. Someone with a really big bottom!" I continue shamelessly. His jaw flies open with a gasp and he immediately initiates a tickle attack!

"Don't!" I giggle loudly, shielding myself.

"I warned you!" He cackles, grasping my waist with both hands as he moves on top of me. I try to get away but he has me pinned to the bed.

"I had to get you back for making fun of my culinary skills on Valentine's Day!" I laugh breathlessly.

"Take it back!"

"Careful! You're going to crease the pictures!"

"I'll stop when you take it back!" His hands move under my shirt and threaten to tickle me mercilessly.

"Fine! Alright! I take it back!"

He doesn't remove his hands from my waist and instead of getting off of me, he presses his lips against mine. I kiss him back and trust he isn't just kissing me to strike another tickle attack but when he moves his hands up slightly I giggle against his lips.

"What's so funny?" he smiles, giving me another kiss.

"Watch your hands."

"Oh?" he chuckles and moves them slightly to tease me. I instinctively tense my whole upper body.

"Don't tickle me, please," I giggle quietly.

His lips back away just a tad. His eyes hold a completely different mood from earlier. I'm glad to see him more relaxed now but I wish we would talk about things more thoroughly and come to a conclusion. I think talking about things would help him with his decision but he has to actually want to talk about it and I think that's something he struggles with. That's something we both struggle with. I don't know if I'm supposed to stick to the topic or offer him some distraction but I think he's going for the second option.

"Can you move off of me, please?" I say with a smile.

"Why would you want that?" he smirks, bringing his lips closer again.

"Because I wasn't done looking at the pictures."

"They're not going anywhere."

"Neither are you, I hope."

Slowly, he guides one of his hands up higher, away from my waist, while supporting his weight with the other arm. What is he doing? Why do his eyes look so serious and confident now?

"Link?" I whisper and his hand stops right below the border of my bra. His calm eyes hold my anxious stare as he waits for me to speak. "What are you doing?"

"You don't want me to?" He asks without any judgment in his tone.

I wish my mind could work as speedily as my pounding heart and fleeting breaths! What am I expected to say to that? I feel the need to clarify what he is implying but... I have a feeling I know exactly where he's going with this.

Having waited a few seconds, Link gives a faint nod at my silent self and slowly pulls his hand away. I stop him without wasting another thought and bring it back to where it was. I can't think, I can't breathe, and the drums of my heart are deafening. But I know that I don't want him to be disappointed or to question our relationship...

Now both our hands are resting on my heart. Can he feel how heavily it's pounding? I'm so nervous! I don't know what to do next or what to say or how to act! I kiss him in an attempt at turning my brain off and place my arms around his back, forcing myself not to overthink it. When his hand puts more pressure on my chest, my thoughts dissolve and all I can think about is his touch...

Involuntarily, my breaths quicken and with each breath I take, my stomach flutters like crazy. We haven't gone this far yet and I surely wasn't expecting it to happen tonight! Every kiss–every breath makes me grow more anxious. But in a good way... It's... nice. Nerve-wracking, but nice!

Even though his movements are gentle and his body isn't pressed against mine in any aggressive manner, I can tell he wants to do more than just feel my bra... He probably wants to take the next step. No, he definitely wants to take the next step.

I think about it for a second and quickly decide that I don't want this to go further than it has but I don't know how to actually tell him that. I just hope he doesn't try to take it any further because I don't think I have it in me to stop him right now.

—
Merry Christmas everyone :) 🎄🎁
Don't forget to be grateful 🫶 What is the best gift you've received and what is the coolest gift you've given to someone else?

Love you all so much 💜 hugs and kisses! -Ace