"You still didn't decorate your flat?" Leah asked me when I let her enter my apartment.
I closed the door behind us and threw my bag on the couch, before shrugging.
"Yes, I did. Look, I framed an Arsenal jersey." I said, pointing to the spot where I had hung the said jersey.
Leah rolled her eyes at my words, walking to the framework and lifting it slightly to look behind it. Of course, the jersey was flocked with her name and number.
She looked at me and smiled, before winking and letting go of the jersey. "Good girl."
I violently blushed at her words, hiding my reaction by walking to the kitchen hastily. She had seen it though, judging by the playful laugh I heard coming from the living room. "You want something to drink?" I asked her, and she joined me in the kitchen, still looking around to see if anything had changed since the last time she was here.
"Sure, I'll take some tea, thanks." She said, and I turned around immediately.
"Yeah, no, I don't have that." Leah's eyes widened at my answer.
"No tea? What kind of Brit are you?" She asked dramatically, and I rolled my eyes, smirking at her reaction.
"An American one." I then replied. "I have coffee, water, juice, and hum... a mysterious liquid in a three-days-old Starbucks cup," I said, bending down to look at the inside of my fridge.
Leah chuckled at my suggestions. "I'll just take water. I don't plan on dying just yet," she said, and I shrugged, closing the door of the fridge with my foot, a bottle of water in each hand.
"Suit yourself," I said, then threw her a bottle, that she nimbly caught.
She twisted off the cap and took a long sip, her gaze drifting around my sparsely decorated apartment.
"So, when are you going to add some personality to this place?" she teased, gesturing to the bare walls and minimalist furnishings.
I chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter and crossing my arms. "Hey, I like it this way. Less clutter means less to clean," I replied, trying to deflect her playful criticism.
"You didn't even put curtains on your windows." She said, and I shrugged. I didn't think I needed any. "I swear sometimes you're so boyish."
"Hey. What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, acting offended, and she offered me a 'really?' kind of look.
"The most personal thing in your place is a Spider-Man edition PlayStation 5. You have a single peanut waiting for you on your coffee table, and the only frame you put on the wall is crooked."
"Is it?" I asked, honestly surprised. I glanced over at the framed jersey, noticing for the first time that it was indeed slightly askew. Leah laughed at my realization.
"Yeah, it's definitely crooked," she confirmed, her grin widening. "But don't worry, I'll fix it for you."
Before I could protest, Leah strode over to the wall and deftly straightened the frame, her movements confident and purposeful. As she stepped back to admire her handiwork, I chuckled, walking to her and observing her 'work', sipping on my water bottle.
"Why, thank you, Bob the Builder."
Leah laughed at my remark, giving me a playful shove before turning to face me. "Someone's gotta do the work,"
"You know what? You're right. And because you've been so kind doing it for me, you can eat the coffee table peanut."
Leah raised an eyebrow at my offer, her lips curling into a playful smirk. "Wow, what a generous offer," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
I chuckled, grabbing the peanut and holding it out to her with a dramatic flourish. "Consider it a token of my appreciation for your interior decorating skills,"
Leah laughed, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "Yeah, I'm not eating that."
With a shrug, I popped the peanut into my mouth, savoring the salty crunch as I chewed.
"Your loss," I remarked with a grin, and she scrunched her nose in disgust at the sight.
"Eww, for how long was it sitting on your table?"
"Relax," I said, rolling my eyes, a smirk on my lips. "It fell off my bowl like, yesterday."
Leah shook her head at my words, her face showing mock disgust. "Remind me never to accept food from you," she teased.
"Hey, my culinary skills are top-notch," I protested with a grin, playfully nudging her shoulder. "You're missing out on some gourmet shit."
Leah raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smirk. "I'll take your word for it," she replied, her tone laced with amusement. "Can you give me a tour?" She asked, nodding towards the little hallway next to the kitchen.
"Sure, but it's gonna take some time to visit everything." I joked, walking with her to the rest of my apartment. "This is the hallway," I announced, motioning towards the narrow passage lined with closed doors. "Over here is the bathroom," I continued, opening the door to reveal a clean and simple space. "And this," I said, swinging open another door, "is the bedroom."
Leah stepped into the bedroom, her gaze sweeping over the modest furnishings and neutral color scheme.
"It's cozy," she remarked, sitting on the edge of my bed. "I like it." She said, and I rolled my eyes at her words.
"Oh, stop it. It's like, what, 3, 4 times smaller than your house?" I said, and she shrugged.
"Depends if you count my basement." She said, and I raised an eyebrow at her words.
"You have a basement? You have three floors, and a basement? What the hell do you put in all this space? You live alone."
Leah chuckled at my incredulous expression. "Well, you've seen my ground floor, I have basically nothing in the basement. Except like, a few bottles of wine. First floor is my bedroom, spare bedroom, and bathroom, and second floor's my library. And my piano's up there, too. Didn't you know all that? I told you you could snoop around the other day."
I simply shrugged at her question. "Didn't feel like doing it without you," I replied, and she pouted her lip at my answer.
"Aww, you're so cute sometimes, baby."
I couldn't help but chuckle at Leah's teasing remark, feeling a warm flush of affection at her endearing nickname. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it," I replied playfully, joining her on the bed and nudging her shoulder with mine.
Leah grinned as she leaned in closer. "Too late," she whispered, her breath warm against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
As Leah's words hung in the air, the space between us seemed to shrink, the air thick with anticipation and unspoken desire. I found myself captivated by the warmth of her presence, the gentle curve of her smile inviting me closer.
With a surge of courage, I closed the distance between us, my heart pounding in my chest as I brushed my lips against hers in a tender, lingering kiss.
Leah responded with equal fervor, her left hand finding my check, her gentle touch igniting a fire within me that burned with undeniable passion.
As we finally pulled away, breathless and flushed with excitement, a sense of euphoria washed over me, leaving me intoxicated by the sheer intensity of our mutual longing. Leah's eyes sparkled with affection as she gazed into mine, her touch leaving a trail of electric warmth wherever it lingered.
"Wow," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she traced a gentle finger along my jawline. "You're a very... very special woman, Valentina Villanueva."
My heart swelled with emotion at Leah's heartfelt words, her tender touch sending waves of warmth cascading through my entire being. I had no idea how to respond to that, her words seemingly so honest and raw.
I felt a lump form in my throat at Leah's sincere declaration, her words echoing in the depths of my soul. At that moment, only three little words came to my mind.
I didn't say any one of those.
Instead, I simply leaned in, pressing my lips against Leah's again, in an attempt to show her how grateful I was that she was in my life.
With each tender kiss, we spoke volumes without uttering a single word, when we pulled away, and she stared into my soul with her deep, blue eyes, the words finally slipped out of my lips.
"I love you," I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding with the weight of the confession. Leah's eyes widened in surprise, her expression softening with emotion as she absorbed the depth of my words.
She didn't say it back. I knew she wouldn't. It didn't bother me. I knew how hard it would be for her to trust someone in that way again. To be okay with love again. The smile on her lips when she heard the words was enough.
So I didn't wait for an answer, and simply laid my head on her shoulder, while her arms enveloped my body tenderly.
We stood like that, for maybe ten good minutes, until I heard Leah's muffled tears, and her failed attempt at masking them. I didn't look at her, simply took her hand in mine, and whispered:
"You don't have to tell me. But if you want to, you can."
Leah's hand tightened around mine, her silent tears a poignant reminder of the scars she carried within.
As her tears ebbed and her breathing steadied, Leah turned to me, her gaze soft and vulnerable. With a trembling breath, she whispered words that resonated with the rawness of her emotions, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I want to," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. "But I'm scared."
Her words pierced through the silence, laying bare the vulnerability that she had long kept hidden from the world. In that moment, I saw Leah not as the fearless warrior on the field, but as a woman haunted by the ghosts of her past, grappling with the weight of her own fears and insecurities.
I reached out, gently wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks, my touch a silent reassurance of my unwavering support. "I know," I whispered. "And that's okay."
Leah's shoulders trembled with the weight of her emotions as she leaned into my touch, her tears falling harder than they had before. I didn't say anything, simply wiped away her tears, one by one, minute after minute, until she fell asleep in my arms, her heart and mind most certainly as heavy as mine were.