Archive of Our Own

one. 

every second counts, i don’t wanna talk to you anymore. 

all these little games, you can call me by the name i gave you yesterday.

– 

paige would say she was pretty good at this. 

this being attracting people, turning heads.

though she would never admit it, she knew she was…somewhat attractive. 

she knew how to style her blonde hair that toed the line between effortless and done with enough effort. she knew her blue eyes looked a little deeper and a little more irresistible under the sun. 

she also knew that she was attractive in a way that drew people, boys and girls alike. that her undeniable athleticism contributed to her already attractive looks, and that her height definitely drew attention from girls the same way her soft giggles drew in guys. 

so yeah, maybe she’d practiced a few pickup lines in her time. maybe she had a look . a signature smirk. a way of leaning in, just enough to catch people off guard, to blur the lines of friendly and flirty. and yeah, she’d say she’s pretty confident that she’s got game . 

but right now? she was seriously rethinking it. because there's only two options. 

either she’s not as attractive or smooth as she thought she was.

or azzi’s just fucking clueless as hell. 

–

gone were the facetime calls stretched thin over different time zones, the half-asleep whispers just to stay connected for another five minutes. no more quick weekend trips that ended too fast, or half-unpacked bags by the door.

azzi had finally committed. to uconn, to her team, to paige. 

and now she was here . with her vanilla-scented shampoo that somehow lingered in every room she walked through. with her soft curls and oversized hoodies and the exact brand of laundry detergent that paige used but somehow smelled more fragrant. and god did it make paige’s heart hurt in a weird, intimate way. she’s everywhere, burrowed in every surface and corner of paige’s life and she didn’t know if it was a good thing or if it was genuinely gonna kill her. 

and yeah, maybe paige has been subtly flirting since that plane ride back to minnesota, but that was all in the past. when she didn’t have the confidence she did now, before all the nights they spent getting to know each other, before she had confidence that azzi felt the same way. 

now, they were older. they had their own space, their own schedule, their own life. 

now, paige wants . 

achingly, embarrassingly, and disgustingly desperate in the middle school crush kind of way.  

and honestly, she thinks she deserves some props cause she’s really been trying here. 

she brought up azzi’s boxes the second her car pulled in. helped build her furniture, even when it gave her splinters and a mild breakdown. she complimented her every chance she got during practice—sweet, casual comments laced with a longing she hoped azzi might finally pick up on.

“you look pretty with your hair like that.” she had said after a team workout, paige pressed up azzi’s side. the younger had braided strands of her hair back into a soft crown. and despite being sweaty and flushed, still she looked like something straight out of a daydream. it was unfair really.

azzi barely blinked. “thanks, paigey,” she said, casual and light, chugging her water before patting paige’s knee like she was a dog who just did a trick.

what the fuck? 

she tries to ignore the flare of annoyance at the nickname, remembering how she only called her that when they wanted to tease each other or piss each other off a little.

but she tried again, a little braver. a little more direct.

“no seriously, az. did i ever tell you how pretty you are?”

this time, azzi looked a bit startled. 

paige thought, finally . she’s catching on. she sees it.

see me. please see me.

“i literally look like shit paige.” she rolled her eyes playfully as her attention drifted, pulled toward caroline laughing over a dumb tiktok.

paige blinked, trying to ignore the sting behind her eyelids and the pang of hurt that bubbled in her chest.

azzi: 1, paige: 0

two.

can you figure me out? just doin’ to waste more time on the couch. 

the second time paige really tries was their second year together, and she thinks she actually might lose her mind. or kill someone. or both. 

they’ve found their rhythm now. azzi wakes up first, padding into paige’s dorm with her hoodie sleeves swallowed over her hands, whispering “wake up” like it’s a secret just for them. then it’s morning runs, team practice, and a stop at 7/11 for their excuse of a breakfast: beef jerky, chocolate milk, and whatever chip brand they were currently obsessed with that week. afterwards, they head back to paige’s dorm to shower and complain and half-nap before dragging themselves to class. 

they were practically stuck to the hip, even having their night routine together down. after class and any obligation they had for a day, it was almost an unwritten rule between the two that they would take turns sleeping over at each other’s dorm, eating sugary snacks that cd would absolutely murder them for eating and passing out during a movie, limbs intertwined and breathing in sync.

it’s predictable. sacred. comforting. theirs.

and if paige’s heart stuttered a little every time azzi leaned into her side on the walk to class, or when their hands brushed accidentally-on-purpose at the vending machine – well. she told herself it was normal. it was fine. they were best friends.

the team had a name for it. they called it “the thing.” paige and azzi’s thing. a relationship that wasn’t a relationship, but also very much was. an entire ecosystem of soft looks, inside jokes, and brush-of-the-hand flirts. 

and yeah paige would elbow whoever said it out loud, but everyone knew. 

azzi fudd was untouchable. off-limits. claimed.

and paige bueckers?

hopeless. head over heart, down bad .

– 

that night, they go out to celebrate the start of the season. just the team, their partners, and a plan to let loose before their lives get swallowed by the practice, travel and press they’ve grown to be thankful for yet still despise. they’re at some packed bar with too-loud music and neon lighting, and paige is already two drinks in when azzi slides up next to her, cheeks flushed and eyes bright from laughter. 

“hey, stranger,” azzi says, nudging her shoulder. “been looking for you.”

paige blinks, thrown off for half a second. her pulse spikes. “yeah?” she asks, teasing, turning toward her fully. “you miss me or something?”

azzi doesn’t answer, just grins while she looks up at paige. 

paige doesn’t know if she's turned on or in pain.

“you’re glowing,” paige says, voice low and soft like she means it. because she does. god, she does.

azzi just snorts. “it’s the vodka soda.” 

paige grins and leans closer, breath warm against her ear as her lips brush the skin ever so slightly. “nah, it’s just you.”

azzi laughs, easy and bright, like paige’s words are harmless. like they don’t mean everything.
“you’re so drunk, paige.”

“am not!” paige says, pouting now, bumping their knees together. “but even if i was, i’d still say you’re the prettiest person here.” 

azzi paused for a second, lips apart and an unreadable look in her eyes and for a second, paige indulges – lets herself embrace the dangerous hope bubbling up in her chest. 

her heart actually stutters .

but then azzi giggles, ruffles her hair, and sips her drink. 

“you’re actually ridiculous.”

like paige is a joke. a pet. a harmless, harmless crush.

paige laughs along, like her chest didn’t just cave in a little. she turns to aubrey and joins in their conversation, pretending not to feel the slow, quiet crack deep inside her.

still, she tries. because she’s stubborn. because azzi’s worth it. because maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance. she sticks by the younger’s side, buying their drinks, slipping her water every now and then, slipping her arm around azzi’s waist lightly like it was the most natural thing in the world – like paige’s arm belonged there

god, it does. and maybe that’s what made it worse.

because maybe that’s the problem. maybe it’s too easy. too natural. maybe paige’s touches don’t register as more because they’ve always lived in this space between friendship and something deeper. a line that azzi never seems to notice, even as paige teeters right on the edge.

nonetheless, she stays close, whispering dumb jokes in azzi’s ear just to see those deep dimples and her melodic laugh that for some reason, paige could never get sick of. she lets her fingers linger, lets her eyes do the talking. flirts with a kind of quiet desperation.

and azzi? she just smiles, taking the affection like it's casual. like paige isn’t holding her breath every time she reaches for her hand. 

and paige? she doesn’t know what the hell is happening.

maybe azzi was just so comfortable in their friendship she didn’t second guess paige’s motives, and god paige would feel really fucking terrible if that was the case. or maybe she felt the same and was scared to show? 

or if azzi knew what she was doing, and cared about their friendship and the team to let her down. 

fuck . 

still, paige believes. there has to be something behind the way azzi always comes to her —her dorm, her bed, her arms. the way her cheeks flush across the court when their eyes meet. that has to mean something. it has to.

maybe, just maybe, there’s still a chance.

so paige heads to the bar, heart buoyed by vodka and stubborn hope, intent on grabbing them one more round. she’s halfway through ordering when she glances over her shoulder and freezes.

azzi’s still at their table, but she’s not alone.

beside azzi, perfect azzi with her stupidly pretty cheekbones and stupidly pretty smile and stupidly perfect curls sat a guy. tall, muscular, with dark, unruly curls that fall over his eyebrows and clear blue eyes. and he’s close— too close. his hand rests casually at her waist like it belongs there. like he belongs there.

and the worst part? 

azzi was laughing, her smile wide and effortless. her posture relaxed. her body tilted just slightly toward him, just enough to say she’s interested. just enough to hurt.

oh.

and suddenly, the cool bar was too warm, and she could feel her throat dry. 

her grip tightens on the edge of the bar, knuckles white. it’s too hot, too loud, too much. her chest aches. her throat is suddenly dry. she watches as azzi brushes a curl behind her ear, the way she always does when she’s flustered or shy. she’s seen that look a hundred times.

she used to think that look was meant for her.

fuck , she was gonna be sick. all over this disgusting counter top.

she turns back to the bartender, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“just one drink,” she says quietly. “for me.”

she doesn’t go back to the table right away. instead, she finds a quiet corner near the back of the bar and lets the music drown out the sting of everything. her drink sits untouched in her hand, condensation running down the sides as she blinks back the sudden burn in her eyes.

maybe she has been ridiculous. maybe azzi’s been this close all this time, and paige never actually had her.

she physically shook her thoughts away like they pained her. 

cause honestly? they really did. 

“caroline!” she calls out, voice hoarse from emotion and noise. “i’m heading back. tell azzi if she asks.” she ignores the way her friend’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“paige, what-” 

she slams the glass down the counter too harshly, weird glances thrown at the sudden noise. but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she marches down the dance floor to the exit. 

past the dance floor, past the tables, ignoring the curious glances and concerned stares from her friends, chest hollow. 

she doesn’t look back.

the worst part? 

azzi doesn’t either.

later that night, azzi pushes open the door to paige’s dorm, adrenaline still buzzing from the night out. she expects the usual: paige half-asleep on her bed, tv playing something they’ve seen a dozen times, snacks scattered across the sheets.

but she stops short.

paige was curled up on the couch, her blanket pulled high over her shoulders like armor. small, still, silent.

which only meant one thing. 

paige didn’t want to sleep beside azzi tonight.

didn’t want to see her.

and that realization hits harder than it should.

three. 

can you see me? i’m waiting for the right time. i can’t read you but if you want the pleasure’s all mine. can you see me using everything to hold back?

– 

they never talk about it.

not the distance.
not the moment at the bar.
not the way paige disappeared and never came back to the table, like vanishing would make the ache disappear too.

the tension settles between them like a fog, quiet and dense, too thick to cut through. it lingers in the way paige stops cracking as many jokes. in how her texts come a little slower, a little shorter. how she starts replying with one emoji instead of three. it lives in the space between their shoulders when they sit next to each other on the locker room bench. it’s invisible, but it’s everywhere.

and yeah, maybe it stung, but paige was nothing if not loyal. 

and maybe stupidly in love. 

so she lets it go. or at least tries to.

a week after the bar, she invites azzi over like nothing happened. like she didn’t feel her heart splinter watching someone else touch what she’d spent years silently longing for. she says everything she usually says, they start their routine again like nothing had happened. hell, she even starts touching azzi again. 

platonically, of course. 

they slip back into routine. barely. paige tells herself it’s fine. and when she let herself touch azzi again, people noticed the scripted familiarity in place of actual closeness.

everyone sees the way her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes anymore. the way she pulls out of azzi’s hugs a beat too early. how she watches azzi like she’s memorizing something she’s about to lose.

everyone could feel that something had changed. that the bar broke something open.

because that night didn’t just sting. it splintered something deep and raw inside her.

watching azzi laugh with someone else didn’t just hurt, it shattered her. 

except azzi. 

azzi who lived in her own world, who apparently, was the most oblivious person in the planet. azzi who smiled at paige like she hung the stars but never saw paige quietly looking, no, admiring her in the locker room after each game. azzi, who dances in paige’s orbit, always just close enough to warm her but never close enough to hold.

paige doesn’t know what it is—if it’s her, if it’s the way she loves too hard, too quietly. but no matter how badly she’s been hurt, she can’t bring herself to leave. it’s like gravity. like she’s caught in azzi’s orbit and doesn’t know how to break free.

and yeah, maybe the love of her life was painfully oblivious. or maybe she just didn’t reciprocate her feelings. paige tried not to think about the latter for too long or else she would actually have a breakdown and never stop. 

so she stays.

and she tries . 

and as she looks at herself in the mirror with her hair in her signature game day braids and ponytail. she takes a deep breath trying to gather every piece of her heart and soul she could bear. 

one last time. 

and this time, she’s not gonna hold back. she’s gonna get a reaction – an answer. 

one last time, no holding back.

–

from the second they step into the locker room, paige is already reaching for her.

trying like her heart didn’t shatter just a few weeks ago, like she didn’t feel absolutely bat shit terriffied. and frankly, that she didn’t feel a little exhausted of the constant rejection that wasn’t rejection? maybe? who the fuck knows at this point. 

her eyes find azzi as soon as they broke their team huddle, coach going over their strategy and his usual “don’t fuck up” talk. 

and it should be a crime really, how azzi managed to look absolutely radiant under the fluorescent lights, her headphones on and hoodie pulled over her head. her long lashes brushed her cheeks as she scrolled through her phone, probably trying to find a playlist to blast before they start their shoot around. 

she walks straight up to her like a magnet being pulled in. 

paige bumps their shoulders together, “you’re walking around lookin’ too pretty, gonna distract everyone from the game.” she said slowly, her eyes locked on azzi’s with everything she’s too scared to say aloud. 

she didn’t expect much, she’s been knowing this was gonna absolutely crush her. so really, it was only a slight sting in her heart when azzi laughed dismissively, “you’re the one with thousands of thirst edits under her belt, be serious.” 

paige masked it all with a smirk, “i’m always serious.” she leaned in closer, making sure the distance between their body screamed anything but platonic, “especially when it comes to you.” 

they were close. closer than paige had ever dared trying. she could feel azzi’s breath stutter and see the telling pink slowly colour her cheeks. 

and god, she really was down bad. cause after all the heartache she’s been through, she still finds her heart stuttering at the sight. 

nearby, kk hears it and mutters under her breath to caroline, “god, she’s trying so hard.”

caroline raises an eyebrow from across the court. “do you think azzi knows ?” she whispers.

“no,” aubrey sighs. “and it’s kinda sad. i’m starting to feel bad for paige.”

“starting?” caroline mutters. “girl’s been down bad since freshman year.”

paige ignores them all.

her focus is zeroed in on azzi,s tanding so close and still somehow so out of reach.

who had the nerve to fucking giggle like paige hadn’t just casually flirted like her whole heart wasn’t in it. like it was just another day.

paige wanted to die. 

it stings. again.

but she pushes through.

they run through warmups and shooting drills. paige’s eyes keep drifting. her fingers brush azzi’s when they stretch side-by-side, and her breath hitches every time their arms bump. she laughs louder around her. lingers longer.

and this time, she means to be obvious.

because tonight, she’s tired of guessing. tired of almosts. tired of being brave in a way that doesn’t count.

so the moment coach’s final pregame huddle breaks, paige tugs azzi’s wrist gently and pulls her just outside the tunnel, into the quiet shadow of the hallway.

“hey,” she says, eyes soft and unreadable.

azzi tilts her head. “what’s up?”

paige hesitates. her fingers tremble at her sides, heart knocking against her ribs so loudly she swears azzi can hear it. she opens her mouth. closes it. opens it again.

“i like you,” she blurts. “no, i love you.”

azzi blinks.

paige pushes forward, voice steadier, “i love you, azzi. like, can’t think straight, can’t breathe right kind of love. like, every time you walk into a room, it’s like my entire world resets around you. and i’ve been trying to push it away, really i have. but i just… i just need to know.”

and then.

azzi laughs.

paige’s chest drops.

“paige,” azzi says, bumping her shoulder like it’s all one big inside joke. “you’re so dramatic. is this like… one of your locker room speeches? you tryna pump me up before tip-off?”

“no,” paige says, voice low, raw. “i’m not kidding.”

but azzi’s already turning back toward the court, pulling her arm gently. “c’mon, let’s go. we’re gonna be late.”

paige stays frozen.

she watches azzi jog ahead, her ponytail swaying behind her, completely unaware of what she just did.

and just like that. 

paige thinks that was her answer.

—

the game goes on. and paige plays like a woman possessed.

she’s on fire from the jump. every three-pointer hits. every steal turns into a fast break. she’s moving with a kind of controlled rage that the opposing team can’t figure out how to contain. she drops twenty by the half. thirty by the fourth. and when the final buzzer sounds and uconn takes the win, the whole bench erupts.

the locker room is chaotic joy. music blaring. gatorade everywhere. aubrey filming a live stream. kk’s dancing in the corner. even geno cracks a smile.

paige doesn’t. doesn’t smile, doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even spare a glance at her team mates. 

she slams her locker shut so hard that it echoes, the metallic clang slicing through the music.

everyone goes quiet.

“paige?” caroline calls.

but paige doesn’t answer. doesn’t look at anyone. just grabs her bag and storms out of the room, jaw clenched, eyes stinging.

and still – she doesn’t let the tears fall.

not yet.

a beat of stunned silence.

“…what just happened?” kk asks.

azzi’s still pulling off her shoes, confused. “she’s probably just mad about something else.”

“mad?” aubrey echoes, incredulous.

“yeah,” azzi shrugs, unbothered. “she pulled me aside earlier and said she was in love with me or something. tried to make it all deep and dramatic.”

the room falls completely silent.

caroline drops the water bottle she’s holding.

“what.” aubrey said lowly, as if she didn’t know if azzi was being serious or not. 

azzi blinks. “what?”

“azzi,” caroline groans. “that wasn’t a joke.”

“you can’t be serious,” aubrey mutters.

“she’s been in love with you forever,” caroline says, exasperated. “how do you not know that?”

azzi’s smile falters.

“that was her confessing,” caroline says, stepping forward. “god, azzi. you haven’t noticed how down she’s been every since that night at the bar? when you were flirting with a guy in front of her?”

the bar? 

azzi feels a flare of confusion and guilt, remembering at how shrunken and small paige had looked that night. when she entered her dorm to a sleeping paige. 

“no, i–” azzi starts, suddenly unsure.

“she’s been trying for weeks,” she continues, “you think paige – the one who consistently begged you to come here just so she could play with you, the one who literally will not let you carry anything heavier than a fucking newborn, the paige that’s been loyal and lovey dovey to you for years now – you think that paige bueckers flirts like that with anyone ?”

azzi’s breath catches.

and there it is.
that moment.
that horrible, gut-wrenching, oh.
the realization that she misunderstood everything.
that what she thought was playful banter was actually someone – paige – her best friend, handing over her heart.

and she didn’t know whether she should cry or sit and marvel at the realisation that paige liked her. 

paige likes her. azzi. 

“i… i didn’t know,” azzi says quietly, voice suddenly small.

aubrey sighs, rubbing a hand over her face. “well, now you do.”

and somewhere down the hallway, past the chaos and celebration and confusion—paige is gone.

and this time?

azzi feels the distance. 

and she’s terrified it’s final. 

– 

four. – azzi’s one. 

i don’t wanna be forward, i don’t wanna cut corners. 

savour this with everything i have inside of me.

azzi doesn’t sleep that night. 

her bed feels unfamiliar. hollow. the faint scent of paige’s body wash lingers in the sheets, like even her bed misses her.

she couldn’t remember the last time she fell asleep without someone warm beside her. without soft whispers, or a weight curled into her side. without paige . without the quiet reassurance of her presence, the grounding comfort of her voice when azzi’s thoughts got too loud.  

and god, how could she be so dense? how did she miss the ache in her chest when paige was an inch too far? how did she miss the giddiness she felt when paige’s eyes zeroed in on her? the way she saw her, really saw her, and not who people wanted her to be. 

paige. of course it’s paige. 

she loves paige. 

of course she does. 

the paige who had stuck with her through sweaty practices, sticky summer visits, mental breakdowns and insecurity that came with her acl injury. the paige that was the first to compliment her form and the first to give her pointers on how to improve. the paige that was so gentle with her it practically ached, but the first to make a stupid joke just to see her laugh. 

the paige who’s been her constant. her person.

the paige who was so beautiful she had been pushing herself so far. that maybe if she tried hard enough to pretend that this was all a joke, that what she felt was just a silly crush – a figment of her teenage, hormone filled brain, that she could stay in the safety zone they called friendship. 

but instead, she ruined it. 

her phone sits heavy in her hand now, the screen dimming in and out of sleep. paige’s name glows at the top of their empty thread.

she keeps typing. deleting. typing again.

paige i’m sorry.

can we talk?

please. 

call me back, please p.

nothing. no bubbles, no typing, not even a read. nothing. 

and now it all clicks into place: the way paige would pull her closer, only to retreat the moment azzi leaned in. the way her jokes hid something deeper. the way she looked at azzi like she was scared of being seen, but more afraid of being invisible.

god. she’s been breaking paige’s heart without even knowing.
and paige had still tried. had still stayed.

the silence feels like punishment.

cause fuck, she’d been so sweet. she’d been patient with her and she laughed ? brushed it off like it meant nothing. 

fuck, she really messed up this time. 

azzi sits up in bed, blanket around her shoulders, and finally lets the tears fall.

“i didn’t know,” she whispers to no one. “i didn’t know, i didn’t know, i didn’t know.”

but that doesn’t stop the image of paige’s face from playing on repeat. that look in her eyes when she said i love you. the way her voice broke. the way she stood still while azzi walked away. the way her voice broke, the way her hands stayed at her sides like she was bracing for rejection.

and azzi gave it to her.

and now all azzi wants is to run back.

– 

it’s raining when azzi stirs. 

she doesn’t remember when she fell asleep. the night stretched on like a nightmare, and it was clear she was dragged through it and back. her face felt sticky with smeared mascara and tears, her hair still in her game day braids, now frizzy and messy. 

she couldn’t find it in her to even care. 

she throws on a hoodie – paige’s, she realizes when the familiar scent hits her, and her chest cracks open all over again.

she walks across campus in her hoodie and slides, socks soaked, barely feeling the cold. her heart’s pounding so hard she thinks she might puke. she doesn’t even stop to think, just walks straight to paige’s dorm, praying she’s there.

she knocks once.
twice.
then harder.

“paige,” her voice is shaky. she tries to steady it but fails. “paige, please. can you open the door?”

nothing.

and azzi can’t even blame her. but still, she feels her heart crack a little more. 

“i know i don’t deserve anything more.” azzi starts, sniffling as she attempts to steady herself. “i get it, i wouldn’t wanna talk to me either after… everything.” 

she leans her forehead against the door, her voice cracking.

“i just wanted to say, i’m sorry. i’m sorry i kept pushing you away. i’m sorry i didn’t let myself feel.” azzi’s hands were trembling at this point. 

but no. 

paige has always been the brave one.

paige loved her, even when azzi didn’t make it easy.

paige gave and gave and gave.

and now it’s azzi’s turn to give something back.

“i didn’t let myself believe it was real because… i think i’ve been in love with you too, and i was scared.”

a beat.

and then another.

“you’ve been in my life for so long, and you’ve always been this… bright, golden thing. and i thought if i let myself feel it, i’d lose you.”

her voice drops to a whisper, tears sliding down her cheeks.

“and i don’t know. maybe i already did. but i don’t wanna lose you paige. i can’t.” she couldn’t help the soft sob that leaves her mouth as she crumples to the floor. 

she sniffles, wiping her sleeve across her face. “i’m sorry i laughed. i was nervous and caught off guard and i didn’t mean to make you feel like that. if i could go back and do it over, i’d tell you the second you looked at me that i’ve been so stupid in love with you too.”

for a moment, all she hears is her breathing. 

god, she must look so pathetic right now. 

but then. 

a click. 

the door opens.

paige, in the hoodie azzi has stolen a hundred times, eyes swollen and glassy. her expression folds at the sight of her, and azzi can barely breathe.

“azzi.” 

and god, azzi doesn’t know how to handle this . the way paige breathed out her name, like it was the only thing keeping her alive. like she was her everything. 

like she was in love . 

“you mean it?” she says, voice barely a whisper.

azzi nods through her tears, already standing, already stepping into her arms. “i mean it. every word.”

and then paige’s arms are around her, warm and trembling and so desperately needed. azzi wraps herself into her like she was always meant to be there, like it’s the only thing that makes sense. she lets herself inhale paige’s scent, lets herself burrow her face into the blonde’s chest like she’s always wanted to do. 

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” azzi rambles before she could pull herself back, shaking as paige pulls her tighter. 

“i know. i know, baby.” 

fuck. 

azzi looks up, gazing into the blue eyes she’s known for forever. 

and she looks, really looks. 

and maybe it’s the nickname, or the rain, or the way paige still holds her like she’s everything, she has absolutely no fucking clue. 

but her body knows before her brain can catch up.

her fingers reach up to cradle paige’s jaw, soft and hesitant at first. she lets her thumb brush the damp curve of her cheek, tracing the warmth of skin that’s always felt like home. and paige just gazes down, awe in her blue eyes – and doesn’t pull away. and when she leans into the touch like she’s been starved for it, azzi moves closer, closer, until there’s no space left between them.

her breath stutters. her heart’s in her throat.

and then she closes the distance.

it’s not perfect. it’s messy and tear-slicked and trembling. their lips crash more than meet at first, azzi’s hand shaking as it curls around the back of paige’s neck, as if afraid she’ll disappear.

but she doesn’t. 

she stays, rooted in place at first, as if she couldn’t believe this was happening. like this was another one of her dreams and she was terrified to wake up. 

but then she melts.

she melts into azzi like she’s been waiting for this forever. like she’s been holding her breath for years and finally, she’s allowed to exhale.

the kiss deepens, slow and aching. paige lets herself soften under azzi’s fingertips, lets her hand wander to the younger’s waist as she pulls her closer, the kiss turning eager yet desperate. she kisses her like azzi is the only thing in the world that makes sense. like this is everything she’s ever wanted.

it feels like breathing for the first time.

like finally coming home.

when they finally pull apart, foreheads pressed together, breaths shared in the quiet space between them, azzi’s hand is still resting over paige’s heart.

azzi feels herself smile, “so, we’re okay?” 

and god, paige feels herself fall deeper. 

“we’re more than okay,” paige says, smiling for the first time in days. “but next time i confess my love, can you maybe not laugh in my face?”

azzi groans, burying her face in paige’s neck. “i will never live that down, huh.”

“not a chance.”

and when they finally close the door behind them, curling up together in the quiet warmth of paige’s room, it feels like everything that’s been aching finally finds peace.

and this time, no one’s holding back.