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samkerrworshipper · 5 months

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pain, sweet, pain | leah williamson x arsenal team

leah’s return from her acl injury is nothing like what she wanted nor expected, but her team are there to help her up when she’s down.

content: hurt/comfort, angst, sadness, pain.

Leah’s never been a good loser.

Whether it was U8s playing with the boys, or playing for Arsenal, or playing for England.

She knows this, it’s both her biggest strength and weakness. She likes to think that it makes her a better player and person, because she experiences the highs and lows like nobody else, but realistically she knows that's just the part of her that hates that she feels so inherently deeply worthless when she team loses and it feels she's somewhat at fault.

Captain Leah would never in her wildest dreams blame a loss on anyone, because she plays an eleven person game, a team game, one person cannot take the sole blame for a whole 90 minutes plus stoppage time.

Leah, 26 year old Leah, who's just coming back from an ACL injury and feels like her world is ending, can’t do anything but blame herself.

Never in her life has Leah felt so worthless, so scared for the future.

She’s worked so hard, worked every single day of recovery, for her knee and for her mind.

She’d thought she was ready, and physically she is, but mentally absolutely nothing prepares you for the moment when you step back on the field for your first game as a starter and you play like absolute shite.

Leah’s worked for over a year, tirelessly, to get to this point, she’d dreamt about it her whole recovery, dreaming of a pinnacle, a perfect moment at the end of the treacherous path, it had seemed perfect.

Realistically, Leah knows that it was never going to look exactly like that, but she’d hoped for something more, happiness, joy, a good game, fulfilment above all else.

Yet, she’s left feeling the complete opposite.

Leah didn’t wait around on the pitch, she was inconsolable, and she knew it, she didn’t need fans seeing her vulnerable, she didn’t need Sarina who had travelled all this way to see Leah play look at Leah with that look of disappointment that you could always catch in the corner of her eye. Leah just couldn’t do it, she couldn’t ever bear to look at Kim, her captain who cared so deeply at her, she couldn’t face that, couldn’t face a woman who was the person who was supposed to keep her accountable but also pick her up when she’s down.

So Leah slips away, slips into the tunnel before she gets stuck in some stupid surface conversation with Alex or Jill, even though she’s desperate to catch up with them, she just can’t do it right now. Drawing with Man City feels like a loss, Arsenal are second on the ladder, the only team they should be drawing or losing to is Chelsea, or at least that’s what Leah’s brain is telling her.

She slips into the bathroom, going unnoticed by anybody in the tunnel and keeping her eyes on her cleats as she makes her way into the away team lockers.

Leah doesn’t sit down, she moves straight to the bathroom, stepping into the first stall and locking the door behind her before she slides down onto the floor, bringing her knees to her chest and her head down onto her kneecaps.

Leah can’t breathe, Leah can’t think, all Leah can do is sit on the floor, contemplating whether it was all really worth it, whether the fucking months of blood, sweat and tears amounted to this. She doesn’t think so, Leah’s telling herself that all of that time, all the wishful thinking, all of the bullshit that she put up with is pointless.

She is Leah Williamson, England Captain, European champion.

Yet she had never felt more like an imposter in her own body.

Alex and Beth had told her about how playing her first full game would be the best moment of her life, especially after sitting out for a whole year.

It was a big step, sure, she’d been getting on the pitch, but being on for ten minutes of stoppage time hardly counted as playing, when Jonas had told her that he planned to have her start the Man City match Leah was excited, ecstatic even, in hindsight it was false confidence.

“Le, honey, are you in there?”

Leah realises that there are tears rolling down her cheeks, subconscious tears of anguish that she hurries to swipe away with the hem of her jersey.

Leah tries to silence herself, for long enough that Lia will leave her be, but she inevitably knows that even though Lia phrased it as a question, she knows Leah is hiding in the stall.

Leah and Lia are…. confusing.

Especially for Leah.

It’s this weird friends with benefits arrangement that somehow started after Caitlin and Lia broke up, it wasn’t very long after Leah and Jordan had broken up and one drunken celebratory night they fell into eachothers bedsheets.

It was blurred lines, sex and emotions that neither of them were ready to face.

Leah loved Lia, in so many ways, but she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t be vulnerable in front of a person that she had frequent casual sex with.

The sex was a confidence booster, for both of them, it made them both feel better, stronger, and Leah was fairly certain that Lia seeing her like this would wreck that.

“Le, baby, open up for me?”

Leah knows that she’s shaking, it’s the middle of fucking winter in London and she’s sitting in a tiled, cold bathroom in nothing more than her uniform. She doesn’t care though, she doesn’t care about anything, the only thing she is thinking about is how the fuck she is going to return to the locker rooms without looking like a complete fucking wreck.

“Leave me alone Lia, I’m fine.”

It’s a blatant lie, both women know it. The breakage and croakiness in Leah’s voice is enough of a sign.

“Don’t be like this Le, whatevers up, we can sort it out together, just open up the door.”

Leah can feel the sickness rising up in her throat, can feel the pain and anxiety coursing through her bloodstream.

“Lia I told you to fuck off, get the fuck out, I’m fine.”

Leah only just manages to get the expletives out before reaching for the bowl of the toilet, the sound of gagging filling the silent bathroom.

Leah hates the acidic flavour that rises up from her throat and directly out of her mouth into the bowl, the clear white being tarnished with the slightly orange tinged bile, Leah supposed it was probably from the gatorade that had been handed out at half time.

“Le, honey, you can open the door for me, I won’t judge you.”

Leah knows that Lia is just trying to be nice, that the Swiss woman really does have a heart of gold and would never judge Leah, not even at her darkest moment. But her mind is betraying her, everything she believes in seems false.

“Lia get the fuck out.”

It’s almost a scream, definitely a yell.

The overwhelming silence that comes after it is deafening.

Then Leah’s ears are blessed with the sound of cleats slowly trailing away from her, it’s the first time since the whistle blew at the start of the game that she feels just a smidge of peace.

Leah tries to pick herself up from the floor, at least the toilet bowl, but it’s a losing battle, the uneasiness in her stomach suddenly forcing more bile up her throat.

Leah hadn’t eaten this morning, so most of it was just bile and liquids that she’d had before the game and at halftime, it burned her throat, making the already abundant ache so much more prominent.

It’s just as Leah is finally pulling her head out, swiping her long blonde ponytail out of the way that she hears the sound of a loud and deft knock against the stall door.

“Leah Williamson, open up, right now.”

Leah’s body shivers more than it was before, whatever gods are up there, she just prays that Kim didn’t hear her vomiting, or crying, or anything.

“I’m fine Kim, leave me alone.”

Leah sounds even more of a mess than she did a few minutes ago when she was trying to convince Lia of the same thing.

“I didn’t ask if you were fine, I told you to open the door.”

Kim’s Scottish accent is so deep, so enunciated in the way it always seems to be when she’s using her stern captain's voice.

“Kim, please just leave.”

Leah is pleading, something that she hates to do, but if Kim asks her once more with that voice she knows she’s not going to resist. So she’s not necessarily pleading to be left alone, but she is pleading for Kim to not push, to not force her to do something she doesn’t want to.

“Leah Cathrine, open the door now, if I have to ask again I will exercise other options to get to you.”

Leah hates how responsive she is to Kim’s voice, she doesn’t manage to get herself up from the bowl, but she does manage to reach one of her long and gangly arms up to the lock and flip it to the side, leaving the door unlocked.

It takes Kim a total of a second to fling the door open.

She doesn’t waste time in the doorframe looking Leah up and down, she steps into the stall, locking the door behind her immediately and sitting down against the door, where Leah had previously been sat.

Kim doesn’t say anything, pretends that she doesn’t notice the tear tracks and snot all over Leah’s face. Instead she extends a windbreaker out towards Leah. Leah shakes her head and Kim just shakes her head, still holding her arm out.

“Leah take the fucking jacket, I won’t be the one to tell your mother that you got hypothermia because you refused to put a jacket on after a game.”

Then it hits Leah, there are people here, at the game, for her.

Her mother, grandmother, father, brother.

Keira even managed to make the trip down just for this game, and yet Leah is crumpled over in a loo, having a fucking breakdown.

Kim shoves the jacket at Leah, and Leah just gives in, pulling it around her shoulders but leaving her arms out so she doesn’t have to remove them from the toilet seat, out of fear that whatever is left contained in her stomach will arise.

Leah and Kim stay that way for a while, Kim just sitting and watching Leah carefully, whilst Leah clutches onto the toilet seat.

She vomits once again, but this time it’s just stomach acid, it burns but it makes her stomach rest a little bit easier, easy enough for Leah to push herself up from the toilet bowl and rest against the wall beside her, so she’s diagonal from Kim.

“Don’t you have teammates to pep up?”

Kim just furrowed her eyebrows at Leah.

“Yes, you.”

Leah grimaces at that answer, she isn’t normally the consoled, normally the consoler, taking up the same job that Kim is right now.

“There are people who have bigger problems right now than I do.”

Kim nods, which throws Leah off a little bit.

“Yes, there are, but I think you’ve been needing this a lot longer than you’d care to admit.”

Leah can’t look at Kim’s eyes, can’t bear the amount of concern that is being directed at her, so she keeps her eyes on her cleats.

They’re muddy, and sopping wet, and Leah’s feet are shivering like crazy, her toes numb from the cold.

“Needing what?”

The question hangs in the air, empty but yet also so full with wonder.

“Needing attention, comfort, vulnerability, needing to not be the invincible Leah Williamson for a minute.”

Leah can’t disagree with Kim, even if she wanted to, it’s just a lie that Kim would catch her out on, and she’s dealt with enough disappointment today.

“I should be happy, on cloud nine, it’s my first game back.”

Leah’s voice betrays her, betrays every single thing that she’s wishing she was feeling.

“There isn’t anything you should be, there are things you can want to feel, but there’s no exact way that you should be feeling right now. Remember Viv’s comeback? Recovery isn’t linear Leah, you know that.”

Kim’s scolding her a little bit, she knows how to get through to Leah, she needs tough love, none of the soft pity bullshit.

“I played like shit, you should be yelling at me not sitting on the bathroom floor with me looking at me like I’m a kicked puppy.”

Kim cocks her head, this is how she works her way in, she doesn’t even have to ask the questions, she just slowly works the answers out, she can play the long game.

“You missed a few passes and intercepts, it's not the end of the world, so did everyone. Do you think I should be yelling at them? We had a bad game Leah, it happens.”

Kim’s words are strong, passionate, but Leah knows there is a lingering question hanging beneath them.

“Leah, how are you doing?”

It’s such a bleak question, so simple but yet so impossible to answer.

“I’m fine, I’m good, I’m back on the pitch, I’m happy.”

It’s all lies, Leah is fairly certain that she hasn’t felt fine or good in a few weeks now, and definitely not happy. She doesn’t think she deserves to feel happy, especially not when she’s been playing how she has.

“You know that you don’t have to sugar coat things with me, you don’t need to lie to me for the sake of trying to get me to leave you alone, it won’t work.”

Kim is probably the most stubborn and selfless person Leah knows, it’s normally the thing she admires most about the Scot, but right now she couldn’t detest it more.

“Leah, you do know it’s okay to be upset, or annoyed, you're coming back from a major injury, I’d be concerned if you weren’t feeling some of those things.”

Kim’s words are reassurances, she’s trying to send Leah into a false sense of comfort, enough comfort that she’ll start to open up to Kim, that she’ll finally let all of her walls and mental barricades down.

“Kim, seriously, I’m fine.”

Kim exhales, deeply, she’s letting go of her lenient side, breathing it out and expelling the soft part of her that was dancing circles around Leah’s mental state, hoping that she’d open up on her own, but it was crystal clear that was Leah was not going to be volunteering that information.

“Leah, have you been struggling?”

It’s a blunt question, and as Leah looks up at Kim with complete shock and fear on her face she can’t find anything besides concern and questioning in her eyes.

“What does that matter?”

It’s a deflection, a weak one, an attempt at trying to pivot Kim, Leah knows subconsciously though that it’s not going to work, Kim sees through it.

“I’m worried about you, I know a lot of the team is. I know you’re struggling Leah, whether you want to admit it or not.”

Leah forces herself to take a deep breath, the unwavering depth in her Captain’s eyes is unmissable, tormenting her from a metre away.

“Leah for the last month you’ve looked like you’re on the cusp of a nervous breakdown, and that’s okay, there is nothing wrong with that. But feeling that way for a whole month isn’t normal.”

Leah knows Kim is right, the older Scot is hardly ever wrong, she’s only seven years older than Leah, but sometimes Kim seems wiser than her mother, sometimes she treats Leah like her daughter, this moment is one of those moments.

“Kim, please just leave me alone.”

Leah is pleading, begging, praying that Kim will just leave her be, stop trying to make her feel things that she doesn’t want to.

“I’ll shut up but I’m not leaving you alone, not when you feel like this.”

Leah feels like Kim knows what she’s feeling better than Leah does, and that’s a weird feeling, knowing that Kim knows exactly what swirly weird thoughts are happening in Leah’s confusing brain.

“Leah, you’re obviously not doing very well.”

Leah cuts Kim off before she can say much more, because she’s honestly sick of hearing Kim’s half lecturing half concerned voice in her ear.

“Thanks for stating the obvious Kim, no, I’m not doing fucking well, I’m pretty sure a blind man could figure it out, so please, for gods sakes, leave me the fuck alone.”

In some strange way, it’s like music to Kim’s ear, hearing Leah openly admit her problems, because it means that Kim is slowly easing her up, slowly getting her to hone in on her emotions.

“Leah, talk to me, what’s up?”

All of a sudden Leah’s face contorts into one of genuine pain, and Kim feels her gut drop for a second.

“Kim I need you to just leave me the fuck alone like I’ve already fucking asked you too.”

Kim likes to think that she’s fairly lenient, she knows how much her girls, her teammates, can take. She knows how to handle most situations, and to an outsider, in this situation they’d probably say that Kim should leave Leah alone.

Kim knows Leah, just like she knows everybody else on the team. She knows that Leah, in all of her stubbornness and masking, often needs someone there for her, although she’d never admit it.

“Leah Cathrine, you can be as angry as you’d like, but you won’t talk to me or anybody like that, especially someone who is just trying to look out for you. Now, I’ll ask you once again, and give you the opportunity to answer me honestly before I haul your ass out of here and onto the bus. Leah, you know that I would never judge you, nobody on this team will ever judge you, and if they do they’ll have me to deal with. We all love you so much, you’re our Leah, our baby girl, and we all just want the best for you.”

Leah forces herself to take a breath, she feels more tears falling down her face as Kim’s words truly start to impact her.

“Sarina’s here, and I played like shit. My knee fucking kills, the olympics are in two months and I’m playing like shit. I’ve never had anxiety, never had a panic attack besides the euro finals, and all of a sudden, I’m a emotional fucking wreck and can’t get my shit together, I need to be better.”

Kim takes a good look at Leah’s franticness, it’s so unlike her, but also not unexpected.

“Leah, take some deep breaths for me honey, use your diaphragm.”

Kim’s voice has dropped a few octaves, and it’s lost all of the tension that was previously in it.

“Everyone on the team thinks I’m weak, stupid and weak, fucking useless.”

Kim stops Leah’s ramble before she takes it too far.

“Leah, listen to me. You are not weak, or stupid, or useless, or anything that your brain is telling you. You are recovering from a devastating injury. You are not perfect. You are doing your best.”

Leah looks up at Kim, with big doe eyes full of tears, she looks so helpless, like a young child.

“You are Sarina’s captain Leah, she’s going to pick you for the olympics. She’d be crazy not too, and if she doesn’t, which isn’t going to happen but with the off chance, then we can go watch them, or we can stay in London and work on your recovery. There will be people around, friends, family. You will not be alone.”

Leah doubts Kim, even though her captain sounds so sure she can’t help but feel a little bit insecure. Millie’s been doing her job for almost a year now, and she’s been doing a bloody good job of it, it makes Leah wonder if Sarina is even going to want her back, especially when her and Millie play the same position on the pitch.

“Leah, honey, I say this as someone who loves you and cares about you more than you’ll ever know. If your knee is hurting, then you should be telling the trainers, and not pushing it. You know your body, and if it’s hurting you need to rest. I know that you want to be playing, and you're finally allowed to so it’s this big deal, but you need to listen to your body and not hurt yourself further. I don’t want to have to tell Jonas and the trainers that you are playing through pain, so I need you to do it, before I bench you for endangering yourself.”

Kim hates how broken Leah looks, and if she could she’d pick Leah up and give her a big hug and say sorry for everything that she’s going through, and she’ll get to that, but right now, Leah is the most impressionable, and this is Kim’s chance to get through to her.

“Leah, every single person on this team loves you, no matter what. This team, this family, all of the love is completely unconditional, you don’t have to put on a brave face for them, I can guarantee you that if we walked into that locker room right now all they would want to do is make sure that you are okay. Nobody is here to condemn you, or make you feel like shit. We all care about you Leah, we’re all worried about you, not mad or angry.”

Leah looks up at Kim, her wobbling bottom lip between her teeth and tears, she looks so gutted, so much smaller than she really is.

“I failed them.”

It’s the first words that have left Leah’s mouth in a while, and it sends a sob barrelling directly from her lips.

This sob, this breakage, this sign of outward weakness speaks volumes to Kim, and it has her scooching over so she’s sitting beside Leah, their shoulders brushing up against each other. When Leah leans into the contact Kim raises one of her arms, putting it across the back of Leah’s shoulder blades and bringing the younger defender into her body.

Kim leans down, pressing her lips to Leah’s forehead, letting them linger for a little bit.

“Leah, honey, no matter what, you could never fail any of us, even if you had ten own goals in a final, none of us could care less, your our Le, our super star. You could never fail us.”

Leah forces herself to take a deep breath, to compose herself, Leah Williamson does not cry.

Except today, today she does, for so many different reasons, and yet absolutely no reason.

“I just don’t want to disappoint anybody, everyone needs me to be good, everyone expects me to be good.”

It’s like a mantra to Leah, a reminder, it’s her bible.

Leah Williamson does not lose, Leah Williamson does not disappoint, Leah Williamson cannot be a failure.

Yet today, it feels like she’s done all of those things, and it’s too much for her, too much for her heart to handle.

“Leah, I’m not wanting to rush you, we can sit here for as long as we have to for you to feel better, but the bus is waiting for us, and I know the girls really want to see you. Plus, my old lady knees are starting to cramp up in here.”

It’s lighthearted, but Leah feels the pressure fall down on her chest like a stack of heavy bricks.

Kim sees the change, and she does exactly what Leah needs, she brings her into her lap for a bone breaking hug.

“They’re going to be mad.”

Leah’s voice is a murmur, low and so quiet that Kim almost misses it.

“Leah I can promise you nobody in that room is going to be mad at you, proud, happy, overjoyed, yes. But one hundred percent not mad. We’ll go out there, get you changed out of these freezing clothes, you can talk to whoever you’d like to. We’ll leave the changerooms, there will probably be people there to talk to you, maybe Sarina, maybe so people from the press, probably your mum. Talk to whoever you want to, then we’ll hop on the bus and get back to the hotel. Okay? I just need you to be brave for me and do it, because I know you can, all of us girls know you can, okay?”

It takes Leah a little bit to nod in agreement with Kim, but eventually she does, her head lifting from its spot buried in Kim’s windbreaker.

“C’mon then, let’s get you up.”

Kim uses all of her strength to lift herself up off the floor, the pre match soreness has settled into her bones and muscles and she makes an internal joke about the old age really starting to get to her.

Once she’s stood up properly she reaches to pull Leah up, even if her back is aching and her knees are sore.

Leah’s unsteady on her legs, like a baby with sealegs, or a newborn baby horse. Kim has to quite literally manhandle Leah into leaning onto her, her arms wrapped around Kim’s much smaller form.

It’s uncomfortable, but Kim makes do, unlocking the stall and dragging Leah over to the sink.

“Wash your face off honey.”

Leah takes one look at herself in the mirror and is instantly shocked, her eyes are thoroughly red rimmed, puffy and altogether Leah just looks like a complete mess.

She leans down to the sink, turning the faucet and washing some of the ice cold water over her face. It doesn’t do much, it doesn’t really do anything besides wipe the tear stains from her face and make a little bit of the redness subside. Not enough to make it look like she hasn’t been crying herself sick, and definitely not enough to make it look like she has her shit together.

She wants to tell Kim to go ahead without her, but one look at the Scottish captain through the mirror tells Leah that anything she says is going to be useless.

So she swallows and spits a little bit of water to clean the acid taste from her mouth and then she stands herself up, righting her uniform and leaning herself back onto Kim, her legs and stomach feeling as uneasy as her current metal state.

When Kim makes it to the door of the bathroom, Leah feels her stomach drop, plummeting to her feet. Kim doesn’t hesitate, even with Leah draping her studs down against the concrete.

Leah keeps her head down, completely ashamed and unable to look at the faces of any of her teammates.

Kim leads her over to her cubby, sitting her down on the seat gently before sitting herself down in front of Leah, pulling off her soaked cleats and leaving them on the floor for later.

“Leah, honey, look at me please.”

Leah struggles to take her eyes from her lap, where her hands are sitting, fiddling aimlessly with the skin around her nail beds.

She eventually does though, keeping her eyes solely focused on Kim’s face, not letting her eyes travel to any of her teammates.

“You need to get changed, but my knees are really sore so I don’t think I can hold you up by myself, I need to go see one of the trainers. Who would you like to help you?”

No one.

That’s the answer that bounces around Leah’s head.

“I can do it myself.”

Leah’s words come from a stubborn mindset, the mindset that is making her feel even sicker for being so openly vulnerable.

“How about Viv and Beth, or Katie, or Jen?”

Leah hates all of the options, because they all include her having to be vulnerable with more people.

“I can do it myself.”

Kim rolls her eyes, her face still as stern and set as ever.

“It’s not up for argument Leah, I’m going to go get Viv, okay?”

If Leah had to make a choice, it would have been either Beth or Viv, because both of them have been through what she has, but Viv is the better option, because she won’t try and make jokes with Leah.

So Leah allows Kim to get up from the floor in front of her, and wander off to wherever she has too, to find Viv.

It’s about thirty seconds later that a pair of white nike shoes show up beside Leah’s sock covered feet.

“Leah, liefje, kom voor mij op?” Leah, love, stand up for me?

Leah’s not fluent in Dutch, she can’t speak a word of the language besides some simple conversation and basic terms of endearment, but for whatever reason she understands Viv perfectly.

Using the wall of her cubby as a crutch, she stands herself up, looking at Viv with a lot of questioning in her eyes.

Viv doesn’t wait for permission, she just reaches for the bottom of Leah’s jersey, lifting it up until Leah’s forced to put her arms up so Viv can pull it over her head.

Before leah’s left shivering, Viv’s helping her pull a long sleeve top and hoodie over her body, making her once freezing body a little bit warmer.

Once Viv has the hoodie pulled around Leah tightly she moves to her shorts, once again not waiting for permissions and tugging them as well as her compression shorts down.

Before she tugs the sweatpants on though, she secures a knee brace and ice pack to Leah’s knee.

Leah’s almost embarrassed about the fact that she nearly moans when the ice makes contact with her knee, the cold contrast feeling so incredible on her inflamed and sore skin.

Viv then moves onto the sweatpants, pulling Leah’s feet through the bottoms of them and then pulling them up and over her knees gently before securing the pants loosely around Leah’s hips.

Once her clothes are on, and Leah is feeling a little bit happier and spacey from the welcome warmth, Viv sits her back down on the bench.

She pulls Leah’s socks off, dutch simplicity leaving her lips as she gently applies, newer and softer socks to Leah’s feet, Viv’s warm hands gently rubbing over Leah’s feet as she pulls the socks over her toes and ankle, before pulling out a pair of ugg boots that Leah has never seen before and tugging them onto her feet.

Normally, Leah would revolt against the break of uniform, but she’s too tired, too vulnerable, too broken to care.

Viv can apparently tell, because in a few seconds time there is a group of girls flanking her, all with the same soft, calm expressions on their faces.

Katie, Beth, Viv, Jen and Lia.

“Hey baby girl, time to get you to the bus hey?”

It’s Beth’s gentle voice, quiet and soft.

“M’ sorry.”

It’s the only thing going through Leah’s brain, endlessly repeating like a record that keeps replaying.

“Hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for and we’ll talk about it on the bus, but we just need to get you there, okay? So Viv and Jen are going to help you, Katie will grab your things and I’ll make sure that any press stragglers stay away, okay?”

Leah feels defeated, and broken, but she nods anyway.

Jen and Viv reach down to pull her up, Beth leading the way out of the change rooms and back into the tunnel. Luckily, there are no stragglers, and the trip is fairly easy, Kim joining the group somewhere along the way with ice packs secured to both of her knees but she looks as if she's in good enough spirits.

They manage to manhandle Leah onto the bus and into a seat, cocooned between Kim and a window.

Kim whispers sweet nothings in her ear the whole ride home, reassurances that Leah doesn’t really hear with her ringing ears.

It’s actually Viv who brings Leah out of her trance, pulling Kim out of her seat beside her so Viv can sit down.

Leah, liefde, listen to me for a second please.”

Leah takes a deep breath.

“You did everything you could have, we all did everything we could have, this is not your fault nor your burden to take. None of us will accept you taking the burden for this. You can’t allow yourself to, because this,” Viv’s hand falls on Leah’s puffed up knee, covered with an ice pack, butLeah understands what she means.

“Is not going to get better if you don’t allow yourself to heal mentally. We’re all here for you, we’re all going to carry you when you are down, please Leah, for me, for your mum, for anybody, just let yourself rest. We’ll review, and as a team we will get better, but we need you beside us getting better as well, we need you out here leading the team, like we all know you can. Take a night, reflect and then come back tomorrow with the mindset that you have something to prove, to us, to Jonas, to Sarina, yes?”

Leah looks at Viv, looks at how genuine she is, how she definitely knows exactly what Leah is feeling.

The words linger for a few seconds, before a mass of Arsenal hoodies are piling on top of Leah and Viv, a struggle of arms and hands securing themselves around Leah.

It’s warm, happy and loving.

It’s everything that Leah has been working to create in this environment for years, not for herself, for everyone around her. But having it come back to her, it hits her like a freight train, and suddenly, or not so suddenly, Leah realises that she’s not doing everything by herself, she doesn’t have to when this is her team.

#woso #woso community #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x arsenal #kim little #baby vivi #vivianne miedema #leah makes me cry #i love leah williamson #golden retriever leah vibes #love angst #i love some hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #im hurtin #marry me rn

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disguisedfeelings · 9 months

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"Abuse can feel like love. Why?"

"Starving people will eat anything."

Penelope Douglas, Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

#dark academia #dark academia quotes #chaotic academia #cottage academia #books & libraries #wordpress #vintage #english literature #booklovers #love quotes #hurtquotes #im hurtin #penelope douglas #spilled ink

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devils-lover-always · 2 years

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I don't think you understand or know how hard it is for me not to message you

#heartache #sad thoughts #i miss you #i miss her #depressing post #im not okay #tw depressing thoughts #thoughts #depressing shit #missing her #heartbroken #im hurtin #in love #missing you

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thechroniclesoforphic · 7 months

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They told me time would heal me. "You'll get familiar with the pain, enough to carry it for the rest of your life without dying instantly" is what they should've said.

#fypシ゚viral #poem #writers and poets #chaotic academia #my poem #academia aesthetic #poetry #depressing poem #love notes to no one #fypシ #sadbeautifultragic #sad poem #ssa aaron hotchner #sad thoughts #sads crap #sadnees #sadgirl #im hurtin

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shebunie · 5 months

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Could you do one where reader is a samurai kid of a ruff back story facial scars or back and ringo and mizu see them fighting also huge and buff as shit 🙄🙄

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝙈𝙞𝙯𝙪 𝙭 𝙎𝙖𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙞! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁, 𝗶𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗿𝘆, 𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝘀, 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟭.𝟭𝗸 𝐀/𝐍: 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲, 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘂𝗽 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗮𝗿. 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘀𝘂𝗲𝘀

A woman, training to be a samurai? How laughable. You were of no use, no value even when offered to a brothel. Not when your skin is imperfect, flawed, or undesirable. You were a disgrace. And so you went anew. Walked a path that shaped the person of who you are now.

You trained, with makeshift materials that mother earth provided. You had to make do with what you had. You trained again, with more precision and confidence in your steps. From the early cracks of dawn till the bed of night, you gave every drop of sweat, blood, and tears.

But as the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, you discovered a resilience within yourself that you never knew existed. The makeshift training ground, surrounded by the echoes of your own doubts, became a sanctuary of self-discovery.

With each swing of the makeshift sword, you embraced imperfection as a testament to your strength. The scars on your skin became a map of your journey, a visual story of battles fought and resilience earned. You realized that perfection was an illusion, and true strength lay in embracing your flaws.

However, at some point in time, you’d give up, out of frustration, and anger. Why couldn’t the gods have given you another life, maybe spare you mercy and take you right now?

I’m tired. Mind plagued with bitterness, sorrow, and demise. And scared.

“How long has it been like that?” Mizu questioned as she leaned by the entrance of the abandoned hut, eyes grazing over the scars littered on your body. Watching Ringo mend another fresh wound you obtained from a fight. From their fight.

She watched you wince and hiss, how your broad shoulders would rise and fall from behind. “Long enough.” You knew what the woman was implying. Calloused fingers of your hand trace along the scar on your arm. A constant reminder of the past.

Heart-shaped lips pursed together, hard in thought. Mizu called out to Ringo to leave you two alone when he finished patching up the wound.

Hushed creeks of the wooden floor and the soft thud of the sandals enveloped the silent room as the dark-haired woman came close. Standing behind you, feeling her gaze at the back of your head. She voiced

“Why risk so much of your life for us, you very well know you can’t save everyone.”

With closed eyes, you steadied your breathing as the mind flowed. You’ve always been living in this way, with the weight of the world heavy on your shoulders. It is what you are been used to — trudging on in life, putting the needs of everyone else before your own. Not a single complaint, not a single time had you griped about the unfairness of it all. Such is life, anyway, is what you always tell yourself— your mantra which often draws you comfort from. But when it all starts to get too much to bear; the burden weighing down to the bones, you finally decide to allow yourself a tiny space to breathe, just for a moment.

Your palpitations start to cease. A few seconds pass, and then a full minute, before you feel a weight settle beside you; you know, without a doubt, a slight turn of your head, you look over at the sword wielder. “I just, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

The night was heavy with the scent of impending danger, but in that moment, you found solace in the shared silence. The soft rustling of leaves and distant echoes of distant creatures became the backdrop to your quiet conversation. The sword wielder's eyes reflected the glint of moonlight as they met yours, and a hint of vulnerability lingered in their gaze.

You turn to face the dark-haired woman, and for the first time, vulnerability flickers in your eyes. The dim light casts shadows on the lines etched on your face, a testament to the battles fought and sacrifices made. You offer a weary smile, the kind that holds a lifetime of stories.

"I appreciate your concern if it was one." you scoffed your voice a gentle murmur that barely broke the silence. "But sometimes, we must risk everything for the chance to make a difference. It's not about saving everyone; it's about making the choice to stand against the darkness, even when the odds are stacked against us."

The room seems to hold its breath as you continue, your gaze fixed on some distant point, perhaps lost in memories or contemplating the uncertain future. "I've seen too much pain and loss. It's true, I can't save everyone, but if I can make a difference for even one person, it's worth it. We all have our battles to fight, and this is mine."

The dark-haired woman listens, her eyes reflecting a mix of admiration and worry. She understands the weight of responsibility, having seen the determination etched on your face during countless trials. Her fingers find solace in the hilt of the sword at her side, a silent acknowledgement of the shared burden.

"I get it, I do," she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "But what if your choices lead to your own undoing? What if the darkness consumes you, and there's no one left to carry on the fight."

Your eyes, tired and world-weary, met hers. The vulnerability in your gaze deepened, revealing the cracks in the armour you've worn for so long. "That's the risk we take," you replied, your voice now laced with raw honesty. "Sometimes, the line between saving others and losing ourselves blurs. But if we let the fear of that darkness paralyze us, then what hope is left?"

The fireflies danced in the distance, their fleeting glow a stark contrast to the gravity of the conversation. The sword wielder clenched her jaw, torn between understanding your noble cause and the gnawing fear that she might lose the one person who had become her anchor.

"I've lost too many people I cared about," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the ground. "I can't bear the thought of losing you too."

For a moment, silence reigned supreme, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the night. You reached out, your hand finding hers in the darkness, a silent promise etched in that touch.

"We can't control every outcome," you said softly, your thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of her hand. "But we can choose how we face the inevitable. And as long as I can make a difference, I'll keep fighting. For you, for everyone."

The unsaid words lingered in the air, heavy with the unspoken truth that this journey, this fight against the encroaching darkness, might cost more than either of you were willing to admit. In that shared moment of vulnerability, the weight of the world pressed down, and the looming shadows seemed to grow darker.

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thewaitingluna · 8 months

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you can wander in the dark for as long as you want but come back to me, I’ll leave the light on, always.

#spilled heart #spilled ink #spilled words #spilled thoughts #spilled emotions #my words #words #spilled prose #you broke my heart #love #spilled poetry #spilled poem #spilled writing #spilled truth #spilled feelings #spilled tears #hurtful #im hurtin

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abaddown · 16 days

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Breakup

OK, OK, I'm going to go home and break up with her. But what do I tell her? "I deserve better." Jesus, no, definitely not that. Even if that's true, only women say that. "You deserve more." Now, that's pretty good. But she's gonna start to get all unintelligent and tell me I'm good just the way I am. That's the way it is. Haha. "I want to live." That'll take the edge off. I might as well say I want to fuck half of Europe. Let's see. "I think we should be apart now so we can be together later." That's not bad, but I don't want to be together later. I'd spare you the hysterics, but I'd be constantly harassed about when that later was. "I'm in love with someone." That seems pretty definitive, but she'd want to know who the bitch was, and it would start a never-ending interrogation about where I met her, when we met, was the sex good, do I regret it, did I think about her, why I didn't tell her, blah blah blah blah... "I cheated on you." Same thing. Oh God, the easiest thing would be to just disappear without a word, never pick up the phone, never answer her texts again. Okay, it's a little bit of a chick thing. "I don't want kids yet." And then she says, "Neither did she. "I want a baby now." She'll end up saying she does too. "I need to focus on my career now." I'm sure her mothering side would come out and assure me that she'll be supportive, patient, that I can build my career, that she's there for me and won't abandon me in the hardest times. Too bad. Wait a minute! I should make her want to break up. Then how much unnecessary crying and screaming would be saved. I'd pretend a little bit, "Oh, no." and then that's it, hat, coat, goodbye. But it would be too long a process to wait. "Something's wrong, this isn't working." I can hear her saying, "But what, tell me what's wrong, I'll change, just tell me what I can do differently! I know you love me, it's just a moment of desperation, believe me, we can work it out!" No, we can't, I don't want to. Okay, I've got a big mouth now, but I actually loved her and I still love her. Just not the way it should be. Like she did me. But I don't want to hurt her. She's a sweet girl. If I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't love you the way I should and the way you deserve. I'm sorry.", you know what? She'd start to tear herself up, eat her insides out, cry for weeks and look for reasons why she'd gone wrong. I don't want to hurt you. That feeling either comes or it doesn't. Or it comes and then it goes. I'm gone, what do I do?

If you break up with a woman, why does she always, at all costs, try to convince you that you're stupid and don't feel what you feel? I can just decide if I want to be with someone or not. Women, I swear, think that we men are so mentally retarded that we don't recognize when we really love someone. God, how many times have I listened to break ups and say "I know you love me. Deep down, you love me so much, you just don't realize it. You're really going to regret this." It's simply impossible to break up cleanly, without scandal. What do you have to say to that? Fuck, is it that late? Look, she's calling again, asking where I am, what I'm doing, when I'll be home. I'm gonna have to talk to her and break up with her. I'm gonna go. I'll call you later.

- Hey, girl, I'm home. What's all this stuff, you going on a trip?

- No. I'm moving.

- You're moving? Where are you going? Why are you going away?

- Out. You know why. I can't do this. Listen, I think we should cut this short. I don't know about you, but I haven't been happy in this relationship for a long time, and I don't think you have either. I think the best thing we can do is just quietly accept that this is the way it is and break up. We have no reason to be angry with each other, so we can separate from each other peacefully. I've got some stuff left here, and I'll pick it up sometime.

- But hey, wait a minute. Just like that? Are you seeing anyone? What's the matter? You want to talk about it or work it out? You're just gonna throw everything away? I don't get it. Is it me? But I love you. Let's talk about it. Let’s fix it!

- Forgive me, but I don't love you the way I should and the way you deserve. I'm sorry..

***

Then she walked out of the apartment. And I've never felt more in love with any woman in my life than I did with her, staring at the closed door.

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codfanficedits · 7 months

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Being with you.

CW: A little bit of angst? Portraying of an unhealthy relationship.

Fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley (although I've kept it as gender neutral as possible!!)

Little note: It's fun to be in a healthy relationship while mentally unstable, because it will leave you awake at night feeling insecure, causing you to write a short little fanfic about it. Anyways enjoy!!

Part Two here

Being with Ghost meant you could spend the evening in bed, you talking away, and he would just listen, his fingertips making soft circles on your back, your waist, your stomach. He always needed to do something with his hands while he listened to you and you just loved talking to him, the little nods, the little sounds he would make while you were blabbering away about a tv show, your friends, your work, he would take it all in. Come to think of it, Ghost would be the first one to not comment about your talking and you were so grateful for it.

Being with Ghost would mean that he would come home after a mission, not speaking a word, but just taking in your presence. As if you were enough to fill the cracks of his heart with a tender love, you would just be at his side, being in a long, silent hug, or sitting close to him, your head on his shoulder. Sometimes you’d just hug him from behind while he stared in the mirror.

Being with Ghost resulted in you coming clean about your insecurities, how ex-boyfriends had cheated and how you were worried he would too. And Ghost would listen, Simon would listen, and he would assure you, telling you he would always be there, every single time you would mention you feel insecure, unwanted, unloved, he would perk right up and be there for you, making sure you’d feel as wanted as could be. Because sometimes you’d wish you could mute your mind, since all you do is think, and his touch is the way to solve it.

Being with Simon came with a lot more people. You’d met his Taskforce and they were all lovely people, you love them all dearly. Simon loved them and you could see why, they became the family he had craved for so long and you’re proud to be part of them. During their gatherings you could see him talk to one of his teammates, whether it be Soap, Gaz or Price, and he would look your way, a soft smile on his face every time your eyes met his brown ones.

Being with Simon had the benefit of waking up in the middle of the night and seeing him look at you. He had told you snippets of his past and you could understand why something horrible as that would keep him up, the fact that he’d look at you after one of those nightmares or flashbacks was such an endearing thought to you. You’d be his rock in the storm of his trauma, and it filled your heart with pride. You’d reach out your hand to his cheek, softly caressing it with your thumb while your eyes would fill with love.

Being with Simon caused a hunger in you that only he could feed, his touch, his words, his kisses, his tongue, his love, his body. He could read your body as the back of his hand and he would do anything in his power to solve your hunger.

Being with Simon has taught you how to cope with the empty bed whenever he was on a mission, being all alone while a full moon illuminated his pillow, the scent keeping you company while he was out being a silent hero, changing the world with this work in the Taskforce. You could only imagine how much he would miss you too.

Being with Simon had become your whole life, he was sent from the heavens above, the universe being on your side when fate made the two of you cross paths at the bar, he had sent you a drink and a quick wink. Something so bold for someone as Simon, but you were so happy that he had done it. It was something you’d boosts about anytime your friends would mention him.

He was your pride and joy.

Being with you meant that Ghost had to listen to you yap and blabber for the whole evening. His skills from the army had allowed him to zone out, using his fingers to trace circles on your soft skin, your back, your waist and your stomach. A way to keep himself busy while your contact talking bored him out of his mind. But you had told him that people would comment on how talkative you were and how insecure it had made you. And Ghost could never crush you like that. So he would swallow it and daydream about what could’ve been if he had never met you.

Being with you would mean that every time he would come home after a mission, you would stick to him as a mouse in a glue trap. The moment he opened the front door, you would be there, not giving him a second to breathe, to come home. No matter what he would do, you would be there. He couldn’t even sit on the couch without you having to sit near him, your knees always touching his, your shoulder against his bicep. Not even staring in front of the mirror would be a hint you would get. No instead you just had to hug him from behind, suffocating him with the love you couldn’t give yourself, so you gave it to Ghost instead.

Being with you resulted in having to walking on eggshells. Even the slightest change in his demeanour would mean that he had to assure you how much you meant to him, how much he loved you, it would get easier over time to lie about it, to avoid the hour long conversations in which you would just cry about everything that had been done to you, while you took no responsibility for your own actions.

Being with you came with a lot of teasing from his Taskforce. They didn’t like you, although some of them were more nuanced about it than others. Of course they would never say it to your face. Simon had told them about your insecurities and he could never let them crush you like that. So they all pretended to like your chatty, bubbly personality. But whenever they had to invite you to their gatherings it was paired with a lot of groans and grumbles. Simon would go as far to talk about you while you were there, giving you an innocent smile whenever you looked his way, while he was telling Soap, Gaz, or Price about how incredibly annoying you were.

Being with you had the downside that he would lie awake at night, finally some peace and quiet from you, but eventually guilt would be eating him as he looked at you. He knew you didn’t deserve someone like him. You did deserve someone who liked your and your personality. But Simon couldn’t stand the thought of being alone, he needed someone around him, and for now that was you. It annoyed him how you always had to touch his face when you would catch him staring in the middle of the night, as if your touch would solve any of the problems in the world.

Being with you caused a hunger in him too. But it wasn’t a hunger that just you could fulfil, he knew that when he would find someone that could replace you, he would drop you as a child would drop their toy as they were gifted a new one. But until then he was more than happy to use you to satisfy his hunger.

Being with you had taught him how peaceful his work could be, how much he had liked the time when he wasn’t tied to you. Being away from you meant he could daydream about how peaceful his life would be without you. How it would be to come home to a quiet house, a empty bed, just for him. And honest to God, it felt like a breath of fresh air.

Being with you was temporary, a honest mistake, and Simon would often wonder how life could have turned out if he had never send that drink. He had been drinking a little too much when he ordered that drink, causing the bartender to send the drink to the wrong person. It was never meant for you, but for your friend, he had slept with her before and he wanted some quick action. How could he have known that drink would come your way? He had seen your face light up and had decided to take you to his apartment. How could Simon know you wouldn’t exactly leave and pour your heart out the morning after?

He couldn’t just sent you away after that, no, Simon could never crush you like that. So he kept it a secret, the morning turning into a day, turning into weeks, months and eventually years, causing him to escape into daydreaming about a life without you.

Simon knew he would never really love you.

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twstbookclub · 1 month

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Faded Away

SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 INCLUDED; THIS IS AN AU. THIS IS SIDE A OF A TWO PART STORY. HERE IS SIDE A.

This is side B.

Inspired by Fade Away by Riley Baron Summary: Childhood friends with Malleus, you were even supposed to marry him. You'd call him your fiancé, but he'd shoot you down with a smile. One day, Maleficia would announce that you would no longer be engaged to Malleus, but you had already decided to renounce that before, so it was okay. For Malleus, after experiencing loss in his life, everything he adored before began to fade away. Pronouns: Gender Neutral POV: 2nd Admin/Writer: Kai⚔️ Tags: Malleus Draconia, Changed fate, Childhood friends to lovers, lovers to strangers, angst with a sad ending, hurt no comfort Word count: 3,961

A/N: … sigh. If someone had told me a year ago that I would write nearly 4,000 words for Malleus Draconia angst, I would've laughed in their face. Despite that, I wrote this for two days and edited it for another two. I fixated on this man for FOUR DAYS nonstop, listening to playlists about falling in love with your comfort character but then saying goodbye, and I am still not done. I am genuinely proud of this work. Out of the 7 years I have been writing fanfiction, I have never been so happy to say this is one of my best works. And I don't really like Malleus like that. Attack me all y'all want, I know book 7 spoilers, and I was his stan(not simp) until I found out the truth and had to take a step BACK. I don't know what I feel about him now, but as a Silver girlie, I need someone to take the pen away from Yana Toboso.

Regardless of my feelings, I am glad I could write this and that the story turned out amazing. As I said, I'm not done, and I have another fic posting as soon as this one drops, so don't stray too far.

On that note, thank you for waiting and reading this long, longer than I would like to admit story. Enjoy.

The horns of this child were small, but the eyes of another child were fascinated at the sight of such a mature boy. The boy’s name was Malleus Draconia, the future King of Briar Valley. You were told that you would become his fiance when you grew up. You could feel your heart instantly pound and become fond of this young royal. You had already known him prior, growing up around the same time, and your families were somewhat close. Still, you couldn’t have imagined being able to marry him later down the line. He was aloof and neutral as a child, speaking to you when you would talk to him and only if he had a response. You loved him that way, anyway.

“You’re my… fiance?”

“I am! Don’t worry; I won’t go anywhere if it’s not with you!”

“Hmm… Then I can accept that.”

Growing up as teenagers was slightly different. It took some years, but he would begin to warm up to you. He would smile occasionally and accept the way you would call him “my fiance”, but still turn you down for the time being. Witnessing him become stressed caused a pang of guilt in your heart. Still, you’d quickly dissipate the feeling by messing around and seeing him feel better with your company.

“My fiance should be calm the way he usually is. How can his kingdom stay calm if he is not?”

Malleus would usually stare at you after you said things like that, then respond with, “You’re right… Alright. I will do that, but I’m not your fiance.”

Then, like clockwork, you’d laugh at him before responding, “Okay, okay, Prince Malleus. Whatever you say.”

Now, Malleus finally returned from studying at Night Raven College and settled back into his past routine. It took some months, since now there were new things he needed to learn before he could become king. He would follow without a complaint, though.

He was standing in a throne room, checking on documents and plans for the kingdom. You would simply trot in with your hands behind your back as you would often do, admiring him as your shoes would click against the floor.

“My fiance is working so hard already?” You teased, being playful and wanting to catch his attention.

“I’m not your fiance.” Malleus would say with a concentrated tone, his gruff voice echoing through the large room as the sound of documents being flipped echoed.

“Right. King Malleus.” You stopped walking to give him a bow and then approached his side. You moved your hand to cling to his arm, but knowing your behavior, he already had an arm out for you.

“Not king either. I haven’t had my coronation yet. Queen Malecifia is planning that as we speak,” Malleus spoke again, then set down the documents and turned to you, his hair slightly swaying with his movement. His green eyes stared down at you, and then he captured a slight smile on his lips. “What is it that you need from me?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see you and waste your time. I truly hope I am a bother,” you spoke playfully and took one of the loose documents into your hands to read through it. Malleus quickly took the paper before you could get too far into reading it. Right. Kingdom affairs.

Malleus gives you a look before sighing and pulling a chair out. “If I let you touch my horns, could you let me work?” He spoke, moving to sit down beside where you were standing. You grew excited at the opportunity to play with his horns and instantly went quiet to do so. You stood behind him and carefully adjusted his hair while examining every detail of the feature in front of you.

The atmosphere was quiet yet peaceful. Time felt like it was still, pen scratching paper occasionally sounds through the large room. Your hands gently held his horns, caressing them to remind yourself of its sharp and enticing structure.

Memories of childhood played through your mind as you watched him read these documents, soft breaths coming from him as his focus never broke. You did this exact thing all the time with him, especially during his study hours.

“Why do you like my horns so much?” Malleus spoke, suddenly breaking the silence and surprising you out of your trance. You thought about it momentarily, trying to find the right words to explain it, but you couldn't find a single word for how. Instead, you explained it the best you could.

“Hmm… I don’t know. There’s something about seeing these horns that gives me some reassurance. Relief that I can still be your future beloved.” you answered before fixing his hair again. Messing with him like this felt right. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, being his future partner was something of fate. There were others out there with royal status just like you. Queen Maleficia could’ve replaced or sent you away, but she hadn’t. You were thankful every time you saw his grandmother.

“I see… You’re an odd one,” Malleus spoke softly, a faint breath being heard from him as he felt your hands let go of him. “You let go. Is something the matter?”

Malleus noticed you stayed quiet but didn’t hear you move either. So, he turned around, his breath catching at what he saw. His eyes were met with your side profile, your lips curling into a grin. Your eyes reflected the light like glass, and your hands fell to his shoulders.

“It’s the first snow of the season,” you said, mesmerized by the view. Your quiet voice showed just how enchanted you were. Malleus had an idea of how others felt about the first snow. All he took in from when you explained the moment to him was how special it could be for lovers.

Every time the first snow would fall, he’d watch from the window of his study how you admired the snowflakes as if you’d never seen them before. He watched you do this for years as if it was routine. Hell, it would be weird if he didn’t see you out there.

Malleus took your wrist and made his way out towards the courtyard. He’s the one taking you out there this time? You could only follow and keep your excitement at bay from his behavior.

Arriving outside, Malleus fixed your winter cape, ensuring you wouldn’t feel too cold. He leaned against a wall as you played and tried to catch the snowflakes. Your smile was as bright as the white sky, and he would just stand there, watching you without a word, but more as if he was in thought.

You noticed this and took a moment to gather some snow from the ground, putting it behind your back before moving towards him. “Are you alright? You seem to be lost in thought,” you asked, making him snap out of his trance to look at you.

“I’m fine. I’m simply reminded of my time at the college from seeing all this snow. Why do you a—”

Crunch.

He sighed, keeping his eyes closed before saying one thing. “... Why?’

Malleus was cut off by the impact of a snowball hitting his face. The icy crystals caused his skin to feel colder than it already was. He wiped the snow off his face as he witnessed you begin to back away. Every step back from you was a step forward for him, and you noticed how he had a straight-faced expression. You laughed nervously and grabbed his wrists, trying to hold him back.

“I just wanted to get your attention, Malleus!” You tried to explain, yelping when he would tower over you, but you would only find it all amusing. Malleus would chuckle, grabbing and throwing snow at you, not aiming for your face like you had done to him.

This went on for a few minutes, enjoying the back-and-forth attacks, while the snow piled onto the ground through the mid-winter day. At one point, Malleus would grab you by the waist to keep you from straying too far away from him. The gesture felt nice, but also intimate as he’d only do this to stop you from being clumsy.

You held onto his arms and stepped back slowly, moving towards a stone pillar, while your eyes didn’t leave him. You glanced between his eyes, lips, and the horns you loved seeing. Even after he held you against the cold stone, there wasn’t anything to worry about, but him.

You felt nervous while giving his arms a light squeeze, and he carefully brushed his cold fingertips against your cheek, making you relax with your head leaning into his slight touch. Soon, his hand cupped your cheek to tilt your head, keeping you in place this time.

Finally, your eyes stayed on his lips. His green eyes admired your features to remember them down to the last detail. Your mingled breaths hit each other’s faces from the close proximity, then Malleus leaned close, his lips inching closer to yours.

It was cut short, though. You turned to the sound of someone clearing their throat, but your body would stop what it was doing and let go of Malleus, instantly bowing at the sight of a familiar lady.

Malleus would turn around next. His breathing was slightly uneven from getting caught in the act, but he’d still bow and greet the woman in the courtyard with them.

“Queen Maleficia, what brings you out here during this weather?” Malleus began first, slowly coming up with you to stand correctly.

“It is good to see you, Queen Maleficia.” You followed after, giving Malleus’s grandmother a warm smile.

“Not much, my dear. I’m glad to see you taking a break,” Maleficia returned the greeting and gave a smile as well. She’d soon drop that expression, though. “I need to speak to you about something important.”

Your body would tense up again, and you took that as a cue to leave them alone, so you bowed and took a step forward. “I’ll leave you be, then—”

“You aren’t going anywhere. You are part of this too.” Maleficia spoke earnestly, and she rarely had to speak in such a way to you. The last time you heard those words was when she scolded you and Malleus for disappearing to Lilia’s home.

Those words always made you nervous, especially since they usually meant something was wrong. You could only turn around and smile again.

“Right. I apologize for my assumption, Your Majesty,” you said carefully, instantly seeing Malleus turn to you with a look of curiosity.

Standing before Queen Maleficia, now in her study, you held your hands as Malleus stood near the high bookshelves. His grandmother stared out of her window briefly before taking a breath.

“Malleus.” Queen Maleficia began to speak, turning around to face you and Malleus somberly. “Your coronation is being planned, as you know, but something must be done before you can become king. You know what that is, correct?”

Malleus grew confused, but his eyes would widen slightly once he understood. “Marriage. What of it?”

As soon as Malleus answered, the woman would look towards you and smile lightly. “That’s correct. What do you plan to do about that?”

You stare at Malleus briefly before looking at Maleficia again, then smile softly. “I do want to marry the prince. That has not changed since we were children.”

Maleficia looked away from you, and then she made her way to stand in front of you. “That, my child, is what I can no longer allow. I am sorry.”

Your eyes widened, and you saw Malleus perk up at the corner of your eye. He was shocked as well. “What…?” Is that the only thing you could say?

“What are you talking about?” Malleus sounded off. You couldn’t look at him. Your eyes would stay on the Queen before you, still in disbelief.

“This is the best course of action. Forgive me, my child.”

“Queen M—No. Grandmother, what in the world are you referring to? Answer me!” Malleus began to demand, moving you back and getting ahead of Maleficia.

“Malleus, believe me, this was not easy.”

“I did not ask if it was easy. I did not ask if you’ve thought of this for weeks or months. I asked for an explanation, grandmother,” Malleus spoke sternly, going against Maleficia, which he had not done before. Maleficia was growing angry, but she remained calm regardless.

“I am doing this for you, for the kingdom of Briar Valley; to end a war before it could begin. You will do your duty as the future ruler of this kingdom.”

“You think the kingdom can decide who will be my partner in marriage for the rest of my life? You did that when I was a child! I went along with it and accepted it the first time as it was!” Malleus also grew angry at the way the events were unfolding. He had accepted everything without complaint, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut this time. This isn’t what he wanted.

“Now, Queen Maleficia, you wish to choose someone new? Someone I haven’t known my entire life and someone I cannot trust?”

“You will understand that as the future king. You do not need them as your fiance, and that is final. You will be marrying someone from another kingdom to stop us from going to war.” Maleficia had grown strict, firm even. Anyone else wouldn’t dare argue, not even you. You could only stay quiet from the words you were hearing. Your heart began to feel heavy from guilt as if it were a burden.

“What good will that do!? I do not need someone to help me run my life or the kingdom that will be under my wing some time from now!”

“I did it for you! I do not wish to see you become like your parents! You are my only grandson, and I lost your mother to war and the son, your father, I never had just before that. I raised you! Lilia and I were the ones who kept you alive. So, as your grandmother, I want you to keep yourself safe. Do this for yourself.” Maleficia was like a pleading mother. She needed Malleus to understand.

It was all so confusing to you. Malleus was trying to fight, but was it for you or him? Was it for his freedom? Did he love you? No. That couldn’t be it. You had to do something before he would do something drastic. You had to stop him before he could argue more.

Silence.

Your hand wrapped around his own. Malleus froze from the sudden touch. “It’s okay,” you began softly, putting on a smile before looking up at Malleus.

The touch reminded you of when you snuck into his study as a teenager. You felt stressed once due to your studies and responsibilities becoming a large pile, and Malleus would hold your hand to put you at ease. He helped you with your studies by tutoring and keeping you focused, but concentrating was still difficult with your distant lover just inches away from you during that time.

That short-lived memory was enough to make you agree to this. You loved him, but it was confusing. He was distant, but sometimes not. You loved him, but it was time.

“Hey, Malleus?”

“Hmm?”

“What would it be like if I was only your friend, but never your fiance?”

A young Malleus had to think about that, but only one answer came to his mind.

“I would’ve figured out how to become your fiance again.”

Back to the decision before you, you smiled more before looking at Maleficia and squeezing Malleus’ hand lightly.

“I understand, Queen Maleficia. I apologize for no longer meeting your expectations,” you said respectfully. Malleus stared down at you with wide eyes, his hand starting to squeeze yours while it was still in his grasp.

“Don’t say that. You don’t need to do that—”

You shook your head and looked at him, clenching your free hand around his arm to cling to him. “I… wanted to talk to you, anyway. I’d call you my fiance, but you always turned me down. You said you simply accepted the necessity of my obligation as your lover. Now that we have to say our goodbyes, it worked out fine, did it not? I won’t fuss about this decision, as I have no say in the kingdom’s political matters. So, I will simply wish you happiness and good fortune in your marriage, Prince Malleus.”

“What are you talking about? You don’t know a thing.” Malleus whispered and took both of your hands into his, trying to keep himself calm in the midst of all of the mess. “I only rejected you because I wanted to properly propose to you. Only at the right moment between us and—”

“Hey… you don’t have to say any of that. You don’t need to. This is your kingdom. I am simply someone who had to be your lover.” Those words hurt for you to say, and Malleus looked… scared for once. In the time that you’d ever known him, he was the only person you loved. Malleus couldn’t let go of your hand or look away from you. You would disappear, he felt. Hearing those words come out of your mouth was painful enough as is.

You could only give him a bitter smile and force him to let go. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay,” you whisper and bow to Maleficia, then to Malleus. “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me.”

You smile once more before swiftly leaving before anything else could happen. The longer you walked, the more your legs felt like jelly. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just wanted to leave. You wanted nothing more but to go back and take back your words. To fight for Malleus. Yet, you would never go against the crown.

Malleus simply stood there in disbelief with his eyes glued to the door. Maleficia reached out to her grandson, but as soon as her hand landed on his shoulder, he slapped it off. He looked at his grandmother with a look of nothing. Agony. A heart-wrenching anguish clouded his mind and judgment once you had left the room.

He didn’t want the touch of anyone else but you. How could he lose you so easily? His whole life, he had always gotten what he wanted. Yet, the one time he asked, begged, and pleaded for something in his life, it was stripped away right before his fingertips. Malleus’ body was on auto-pilot from the harsh reality. Then, he moved out of the study, but when he looked up, his body froze at the sight of you running out of the castle.

It was all his fault. He didn’t fight hard enough. Now, he had lost you. How could the Seven betray him so? He never thought that it would be so easy to leave him. To abandon the memories just because someone else requested it.

Once you felt the harsh wind and snow, your eyes began to water. Soon, your heavy breaths turned into heaving sobs. Before you knew it, you found yourself in the forest. How did you even get here? How far did your tired legs get you? What torture could you endure in this state? Then…

Every memory with Malleus started to flash through your head.

Every dance.

Every laugh.

Every touch.

Every look.

Everything.

Your heaving sobs became screams of heartbreak. Agonized cries echoed throughout the quiet and dark forest of Briar Valley. You couldn’t feel the cold anymore. The cold didn’t matter when it felt like you left a piece of yourself in the castle.

Malleus leaned against the wall from the window that he watched you disappear from, closing his eyes when he could hear your cries despite how far you actually were. He couldn’t do anything to fix it this time, not when you were convinced.

Meeting his new fiance was unbearable for Malleus, but he tolerated it. He never remembered any interaction he had with the woman he was supposed to marry now. The wedding was memorable for everyone but him, and you weren’t there. He knew you wouldn’t be there, but he would still smile to himself when he remembered things.

But then it wasn’t too long, maybe a couple of years, until the kingdom celebrated Malleus and his coronation. Everyone with royal status and Malleus' close friends were invited to the after-party celebration. You went alone and stood on the balcony outside, listening to everyone enjoy their festivities. You hadn’t heard about Malleus since you last stepped foot here. It felt like forever ago.

“I didn’t think you would show up. Not after what happened the last time.”

The familiar voice made you perk up and turn around, seeing his tall figure standing at the curtain’s frame. You stood at the stone barricade and smiled slightly at Malleus, bowing to him.

“I didn’t think you would seek my company, King Malleus.”

“That title sounds… weird coming from you,” he admitted, making you both laugh. You look at the horizon to watch the setting sun, going quiet along with him. You had to break the silence.

“So, how are you and your queen?” You asked, causing Malleus to look at you.

“She is fine. She’s expecting, so she’s taking care of herself instead,” Malleus said, being careful with his words, but you wanted to hide behind your old, playful attitude.

“You were quite fast, weren’t you?” You responded with a laugh, but you could feel your heart breaking already.

“It’s been about two years since we last conversed. I don’t think that’s too fast,” Malleus spoke casually, but you would notice how he looked at you somberly, almost as if he didn’t like it as much as you did.

“I see. I wish the Queen and your child a safe and easy journey.” You said quietly, sounding a bit melancholic. You had to force those words out, and Malleus simply nodded to accept your wishes.

His look made you narrow your eyes towards the ground, not wanting to look at him as you knew it would only cause you more heartbreak.

“Malleus…” You called out quietly, sighing and leaning against the stone.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispered, looking out into the horizon just like you did moments ago.

After a few minutes of silence, the sun had finally set, turning the sky dark with the moon’s light shining down on you and Malleus.

“Thank you,” you broke the silence first amidst the faint clamor of festivities behind you, “for the chance to be with you for so long.”

Malleus looked at you, then you looked at him in return. These looks turned into stares. Stares felt like time froze. It was you and him again, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

You engraved the details of his face into your head, and he was doing the same for you. When he broke the silence, the bubble around you two still hadn’t popped.

“You were a wonderful experience,” he said sincerely, giving you a smile.

You smiled back, but before you could respond, others called Malleus over. He tried to stay there, but he was forced away. He was only able to take one more look at you before he disappeared. He faded away like a light swallowed by a deep darkness, which was so strange. It was only a change.

You still kept your smile after he left. Now, you could say what you wanted.

“You were… everything.”

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