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The training ground was quiet, the golden hues of sunset stretching across the grass as the players filed off toward the locker room. Keira Walsh stayed behind, sitting cross-legged near the sideline, her elbows resting on her knees and her head tilted toward the ground.
From a distance, Lucy Bronze noticed her, just as she always did. She lingered at the edge of the field, pretending to check the laces on her boots, but her focus never left Keira. There was something about the way she sat, still and closed off, that made Lucy’s chest ache.
Lucy sighed and tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. She wasn’t great with words, not when it came to emotions, but if there was one person she’d try for, it was Keira.
Jogging over, Lucy dropped to the grass beside her, keeping just enough space between them to let Keira feel comfortable. “Alright, Walshy,” she said lightly, “what’s going on in that big brain of yours?”
Keira didn’t look up, instead plucking at the grass absentmindedly. “Nothing,” she mumbled. “Just tired.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You’re not just tired. I saw you out there today. You were brilliant, as always, but...something’s off. And you know I’m not leaving until you tell me.”
Keira let out a long sigh, her fingers tightening around a blade of grass she’d pulled free. “Why do you always do this?” she asked, her tone exasperated but not unkind.
“Do what?” Lucy asked, leaning back on her hands.
“Make me talk about stuff I don’t want to talk about.”
Lucy grinned. “Because you need it. You’re terrible at asking for help.”
Keira glanced at her, her blue eyes narrowed, but the edge in her gaze softened when she caught the warmth in Lucy’s expression. “It’s just...I don’t know,” she admitted, dropping her gaze again. “The pressure, I guess. I’m supposed to be this calm, composed player who always has it together. But what if I can’t keep it up? What if I’m not as good as everyone thinks I am?”
Lucy’s smile faded, replaced by something quieter, more serious. She sat up, leaning her elbows on her knees so their shoulders nearly touched. “Keira,” she said softly, “do you really think you’re not good enough?”
Keira hesitated, biting her lip. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “Everyone always says I’m this ‘heartbeat’ of the team, but what if one day I can’t be that? What if I let everyone down?”
Lucy let out a soft breath, her heart aching for her. “Keira, listen to me,” she said, her voice steady. “You’re not just good enough—you’re incredible. You see the game in ways most of us can’t even dream of. You’re the reason we play as well as we do.” She nudged Keira gently with her shoulder. “And even if you did mess up—which you won’t—it wouldn’t change how much you mean to this team. Or to me.”
Keira blinked, caught off guard by the intensity in Lucy’s tone. She looked at her, studying the way Lucy’s dark eyes held hers, unwavering and full of something she couldn’t quite name. “To you?” she asked quietly.
Lucy hesitated, the words lingering on the tip of her tongue. She knew this wasn’t just about football anymore. “Yeah,” she said finally, her voice soft. “To me.”
The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken emotions. Keira’s chest felt tight, her heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with training.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you out there,” Lucy continued, her gaze fixed on the horizon now. “You’re the one who keeps me steady when things get tough. On the pitch, off it...you’re just always there.” She glanced back at Keira, her voice dropping. “And I want to be that for you too.”
Keira felt the words hit her, their weight settling deep in her chest. “You already are,” she murmured.
Lucy blinked, her expression softening. “Yeah?”
Keira nodded, her lips curving into a small, almost shy smile. “You make me feel like...I’m not alone. Like I don’t have to carry everything by myself.”
Lucy’s hand reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against Keira’s. “You don’t,” she said firmly. “Not with me.”
The warmth of Lucy’s touch sent a spark through Keira, and before she could second-guess herself, she turned her hand over, letting their fingers intertwine.
“Thank you,” Keira whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
Lucy smiled, her thumb brushing over the back of Keira’s hand. “Always,” she said softly.
They stayed like that for a moment, the world around them fading into the background. The distant hum of voices and the golden glow of the sunset felt far away, as if it were just the two of them, anchored in this quiet moment.
Finally, Keira broke the silence, her voice hesitant but steady. “Lucy...can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” Lucy replied without hesitation.
“Why do you care so much?”
Lucy blinked, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, she didn’t know how to answer. But then she looked at Keira, really looked at her—the way her blonde hair framed her face, the soft vulnerability in her eyes—and the words came easily.
“Because I—” Lucy stopped herself, her cheeks flushing slightly. She let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “You’re not making this easy, are you?”
Keira’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Lucy took a deep breath, her hand still holding Keira’s. “I care because...you’re important to me. More than I think you realize. And it’s not just about football, Keira. It’s you. All of you.”
Keira’s breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest. “Lucy...”
Lucy gave her a small, self-deprecating smile. “I’m not great at this kind of thing,” she admitted. “But what I’m trying to say is...I think I’ve been falling for you for a long time.”
Keira stared at her, her mind reeling. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected Lucy to say, but it wasn’t that. And yet, as she looked at her—sitting there, vulnerable and open in a way Lucy rarely was—it felt right.
“I think I’ve been falling for you too,” Keira said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lucy’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before it melted into a warm, radiant smile. “Yeah?”
Keira nodded, a small laugh escaping her. “Yeah.”
Lucy laughed too, the sound light and full of relief. “Well, that’s good,” she said, her grin widening. “Because I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep it to myself.”
Keira smiled, the tension she’d been carrying all day dissolving in an instant. She leaned forward, her forehead brushing against Lucy’s. “You don’t have to keep it to yourself anymore,” she murmured.
Lucy’s breath hitched, and before she could overthink it, she closed the distance between them, her lips meeting Keira’s in a soft, tender kiss.
It wasn’t rushed or uncertain—it was steady and sure, a quiet promise in the fading light of the day. When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads still touching, Lucy whispered, “You’re not alone, Keira. Not now. Not ever.”
Keira smiled, her heart full for the first time in what felt like forever. “Neither are you,” she said.
And as they sat there, hands entwined and hearts laid bare, the weight of the world felt a little lighter. Together, they knew, they could face anything.
---
The next morning, the team gathered for breakfast in the cafeteria. The atmosphere was buzzing with energy, players chatting about the upcoming match against one of the top international sides. Keira sat at a table near the window, her fingers wrapped around a mug of coffee. Across from her, Lucy was talking animatedly to Leah Williamson, but her gaze kept flickering back to Keira, softening every time their eyes met.
Keira tried to focus on her breakfast, but her mind kept drifting back to the previous evening. The kiss, the vulnerability, the quiet promises exchanged in the golden light of the training ground—it was all so fresh, so overwhelming, and yet it felt impossibly right.
“Walshy, you with us?” Georgia Stanway’s voice broke through her thoughts, her playful grin widening as she dropped into the seat beside Keira. “You’ve been staring at your coffee like it insulted you.”
Keira flushed, quickly taking a sip to cover her embarrassment. “Just thinking,” she muttered.
Georgia raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but before she could press further, Lucy strolled over and plopped into the seat on Keira’s other side. “Morning, Walshy,” she said casually, her knee brushing against Keira’s under the table.
Keira glanced at her, the warmth in Lucy’s smile instantly calming the nervous flutter in her chest. “Morning,” she replied softly.
Georgia’s eyes darted between them, her grin turning sly. “Well, this is interesting.”
Lucy shot her a warning look. “Don’t start, Stanway.”
“What? I didn’t say anything!” Georgia held up her hands in mock innocence, though her knowing smirk said plenty. “Yet.”
Keira groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Can we not do this right now?”
Lucy chuckled, nudging her gently. “Ignore her. She’s just jealous she doesn’t have someone fawning over her every move.”
“Excuse me, I’ll have you know I’m very lovable,” Georgia retorted, but she let it drop, much to Keira’s relief.
The rest of breakfast passed in a blur of conversation and laughter, but Lucy and Keira kept stealing glances at each other, the connection between them stronger than ever.
Later That Week: The Match
The stadium was alive with energy, the roar of the crowd echoing through the air as England took to the pitch. It was a crucial game against a tough opponent, and the pressure was palpable.
Keira felt it more than most. As the team’s midfield anchor, she was the one tasked with controlling the tempo, breaking up attacks, and orchestrating plays. She thrived under pressure—usually. But today, her nerves felt sharper, her thoughts heavier.
From her spot in defense, Lucy noticed the slight hesitation in Keira’s movements, the way she seemed just a fraction of a second slower than usual. During a lull in play, Lucy jogged over to her, keeping her tone light. “You good?”
Keira nodded quickly, her eyes darting to the ball. “I’m fine.”
Lucy stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Keira, look at me.”
Reluctantly, Keira met her gaze. Lucy’s eyes were steady, unwavering. “You’ve got this,” Lucy said firmly. “You’re the best midfielder in the world, and you know it. Just play your game. I’m right here if you need me.”
Keira exhaled, the weight on her chest easing slightly. “Thanks, Luce,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Lucy grinned. “Always.”
From that moment, something shifted. Keira settled into the game, her passes crisp and precise, her vision sharp. She dictated the play with a calm authority, and when the final whistle blew, England emerged victorious.
As the team celebrated on the pitch, Lucy found Keira in the chaos, pulling her into a tight hug. “Told you you’d smash it,” she said, her voice muffled against Keira’s shoulder.
Keira laughed, her arms wrapping around Lucy. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
Off the Pitch
The following weeks brought more games, more travel, and more stolen moments between Lucy and Keira. They kept things quiet, not wanting to draw attention to their budding relationship, but their teammates weren’t oblivious.
“You two are ridiculously obvious,” Leah teased one evening after training, catching them exchanging a lingering glance across the room.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “We’re just close.”
“Right,” Leah said, her smirk making it clear she didn’t believe a word.
Despite the teasing, most of the team was supportive. They saw how Lucy and Keira brought out the best in each other, both on and off the pitch.
One evening, after a particularly tough training session, Lucy and Keira found themselves alone in Lucy’s hotel room. The city lights flickered outside the window as they sat on the edge of the bed, their shoulders brushing.
“Do you ever think about what happens next?” Keira asked softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the duvet.
Lucy tilted her head, studying her. “What do you mean?”
Keira shrugged, her gaze distant. “You know, when football’s over. When all of this”—she gestured vaguely—“is done.”
Lucy was quiet for a moment, then reached out to take Keira’s hand. “I don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “But I know one thing—I want you there. Whatever comes next, I want you by my side.”
Keira looked at her, her eyes wide and shining with emotion. “You mean that?”
Lucy smiled, her thumb brushing over Keira’s knuckles. “Of course I do. You’re it for me, Keira. You always have been.”
The words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, and for a moment, Keira couldn’t speak. Then, with a soft smile, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Lucy’s. “You’re it for me too,” she whispered.
They stayed like that for a while, the world outside fading away. In each other, they’d found something steady, something real—a love that anchored them both, no matter where life took them.<\p>
The late autumn air was crisp, a chill threading through the streets of Manchester as Lucy and Keira strolled along the canal. Their match earlier that week had been a hard-fought draw, leaving both women mentally and physically drained. Tonight, though, the world was quiet. Just the two of them, away from the noise of the pitch and the expectations that came with it.
Keira walked a few paces ahead, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her coat, her breath visible in the cold air. Lucy followed closely, her hands buried in her own pockets as she studied Keira’s silhouette against the soft glow of the streetlights.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Lucy said after a moment, her voice breaking the stillness.
Keira paused, glancing over her shoulder. “Just thinking,” she replied.
Lucy caught up to her, her brow furrowed with concern. “About what?”
Keira hesitated, her gaze fixed on the water rippling gently beneath the bridge. “Everything, I guess,” she admitted. “The game, the pressure, us…”
Lucy’s chest tightened. She stepped closer, her voice soft but steady. “What about us?”
Keira looked down at her feet, scuffing the toe of her boot against the pavement. “It’s not bad,” she said quickly. “I just... I’m scared sometimes.”
Lucy tilted her head, searching Keira’s face. “Scared of what?”
Keira’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke. “That this—what we have—won’t survive everything else. The media, the fans, the traveling, the constant pressure. It’s already hard enough to balance football and life, and now…” She trailed off, her arms wrapping around herself.
Lucy felt a pang of guilt. She knew the demands of their careers were relentless, leaving little room for the quieter, tender moments they craved. But hearing Keira voice her fears made it all feel more real.
“Keira,” Lucy said gently, stepping in front of her. She reached out, her hands settling on Keira’s shoulders. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, Keira lifted her gaze, her blue eyes filled with uncertainty.
“This isn’t something I take lightly,” Lucy said, her voice firm. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but you mean too much to me to let anything get in the way. I’ve spent my whole life fighting for the things I care about, and I’ll fight for this—for us—just as hard.”
Keira’s breath hitched, her lips parting as if to respond, but no words came. Lucy cupped her face, her thumb brushing softly along Keira’s cheek.
“I know it’s scary,” Lucy continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But we don’t have to have all the answers right now. All we need to do is take it one step at a time. Together.”
Keira closed her eyes, leaning into Lucy’s touch. The warmth of her hand against her skin was grounding, steadying.
“You make it sound so simple,” Keira murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
Lucy chuckled softly. “It’s not simple. It’s just worth it.”
When Keira opened her eyes, the vulnerability in them was met with nothing but unwavering certainty in Lucy’s. For the first time that evening, the tension in her chest began to ease.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Keira said quietly.
Lucy’s smile softened, her hand slipping from Keira’s cheek to rest against her neck. “You don’t have to do anything to deserve love, Keira. You just have to let yourself feel it.”
Keira’s throat tightened, but this time it wasn’t from fear—it was from the overwhelming rush of emotion Lucy’s words stirred in her. She stepped closer, their foreheads touching as the world around them disappeared.
“I do feel it,” Keira whispered. “Every time I see you, every time I hear your voice. You make me feel like I can breathe again.”
Lucy closed her eyes, her other hand resting gently on Keira’s waist. “That’s how I feel about you,” she admitted. “Like I finally have something steady to hold onto. Someone who makes me want to be better, not just as a player, but as a person.”
Keira’s breath hitched, and before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in, capturing Lucy’s lips in a kiss. It was soft and slow, filled with a quiet intensity that said everything words couldn’t.
When they pulled apart, Keira rested her head against Lucy’s shoulder, her arms wrapping around her tightly. “I’m sorry I get in my head so much,” she murmured.
Lucy pressed a kiss to the top of her head, her arms holding her close. “Don’t apologize for feeling things, Keira. That’s what makes you...you. And I love you for it.”
Keira froze, her breath catching. She pulled back just enough to look at Lucy, her eyes wide. “You love me?”
Lucy smiled, her hand brushing a strand of hair from Keira’s face. “Yeah,” she said simply. “I love you. I think I’ve loved you for a while now.”
Tears welled in Keira’s eyes, but they were accompanied by a radiant smile that took Lucy’s breath away. “I love you too,” she said, her voice trembling but full of certainty.
Lucy grinned, her heart swelling at the words. She pulled Keira back into her arms, holding her like she never wanted to let go.
For the first time in a long time, Keira felt truly safe—not just in Lucy’s embrace, but in the knowledge that they were in this together. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she knew they’d face them side by side.
And as they stood there beneath the streetlights, the world quiet and still around them, they both realized something profound: love wasn’t something that added pressure or weight. It was the thing that made everything else worth carrying. You’ve been quiet tonight,” Lucy said softly, breaking the stillness.
Keira paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “Just...thinking.”
Lucy caught up to her, her voice tinged with concern. “About what?”
Keira hesitated, her gaze drifting toward the water. “About us,” she admitted. “About how much longer we can keep this between just us.”
Lucy felt a pang in her chest. She reached out, brushing Keira’s hand with her own before slipping it into her pocket. “We don’t have to tell anyone yet if you’re not ready.”
Keira shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I think we should. They’re our teammates, Luce. Our friends. And I hate feeling like I’m hiding part of myself from them.”
Lucy nodded slowly, her gaze steady. “If you’re sure, we’ll tell them. But on our terms, okay? Together.”<\p>
Keira gave her a small, grateful smile. “Together,” she repeated.<\p>
Lucy stepped closer, tucking a strand of hair behind Keira’s ear. “It’s going to be fine, Keira. They love you. They love us.”<\p>
Keira leaned into her touch, her voice barely above a whisper. “I hope you’re right.”<\p>
The team had gathered that night in one of the hotel’s common rooms for an impromptu game night. Snacks and card decks were scattered across the tables, music hummed in the background, and the air was thick with laughter and teasing. It was these moments Keira loved most—the lightness of being surrounded by her teammates, free from the intensity of the pitch.<\p>
Lucy and Keira had settled on the couch, sitting closer than usual, their knees brushing with every shift. Keira’s heart raced, her mind consumed by what they were about to do.<\p>
Lucy noticed. She always noticed. Her hand moved briefly to Keira’s thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Breathe,” she whispered.<\p>
Keira nodded, inhaling deeply. She tried to focus on Georgia Stanway, who was halfway through a ridiculous story about a disastrous penalty kick during training. The team roared with laughter as Georgia gestured wildly, pantomiming her fall.
Lucy’s voice cut through the noise, calm but commanding. “Oi, listen up!”<\p>
The room quieted instantly. All eyes turned toward Lucy, and Keira’s stomach tightened.<\p>
“What’s up, Bronzy?” Leah asked, her brows furrowed in curiosity.<\p>
Lucy glanced at Keira, her expression softening. “Keira and I wanted to talk to you about something.”<\p>
The chatter around the room faded completely, replaced by an anticipatory silence. Keira’s hands clenched tightly in her lap, but Lucy’s calm presence beside her was grounding.<\p>
“It’s nothing bad,” Keira began, her voice trembling slightly. “But it’s important.”<\p>
Lucy jumped in, her voice steady. “Keira and I...we’re together.”<\p>
The words hung in the air for a moment, echoing in the quiet room. For a heartbeat, no one said anything, and Keira’s nerves spiked. She was about to blurt out something—anything—to fill the silence when Georgia let out a dramatic gasp.<\p>
“I knew it!” Georgia exclaimed, pointing between them. “I’ve been saying this for months! Pay up, Leah!”<\p>
Leah groaned, digging into her pocket for a fiver and slapping it into Georgia’s waiting hand. “Alright, fine. You win.”<\p>
Keira blinked, stunned. “Wait—what?”<\p>
Georgia grinned triumphantly. “We’ve been speculating for ages. It was either that or you two are just the clingiest friends on the planet.”<\p>
Lucy let out a bark of laughter, the tension in her shoulders easing. “So you’re not surprised?”<\p>
Millie Bright smirked. “Not even a little. The way you two look at each other? It’s sickening, honestly.”<\p>
Keira felt her face heat, but she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her. “We thought we were being subtle.”<\p>
“Subtle?” Leah snorted. “Lucy stares at you like you’re the last biscuit in the tin. Subtle, my ass.”<\p>
The room erupted in laughter, and even Keira couldn’t help but laugh along.<\p>
“Alright, alright,” Lucy said, raising her hands. “You’ve had your fun. But seriously—are you guys okay with this?”<\p>
Leah’s smile softened, her tone turning sincere. “Of course we are. Why wouldn’t we be? You’re family. And if you’re happy, we’re happy.”<\p>
The others nodded, their expressions warm and supportive. Alex Greenwood spoke up next, her voice gentle. “Honestly, it’s nice to see you both looking so...at peace. You deserve that.”<\p>
Keira felt a lump form in her throat, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She looked at Lucy, who gave her a small, reassuring smile.<\p>
“Thanks, guys,” Keira said quietly. “It means a lot.”<\p>
Georgia leaned forward, her grin mischievous. “So, who made the first move? My money’s on Walshy. Quiet ones are always bold when it counts.”<\p>
Keira groaned, burying her face in her hands as the room erupted into playful jeers. Lucy threw an arm around her shoulders, laughing.<\p>
“For the record,” Lucy said, smirking, “it was Keira.”<\p>
“Lucy!” Keira protested, her voice muffled by her hands.<\p>
“What? It’s true!” Lucy teased, pressing a quick kiss to Keira’s temple.<\p>
The team’s cheers grew louder, and Keira felt her cheeks burn. But beneath the embarrassment was a warmth that spread through her chest—a sense of belonging she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.<\p>
As the teasing died down, Leah raised her glass of sparkling water. “To Keira and Lucy—may your relationship survive Georgia’s constant meddling and Millie’s bad advice.”<\p>
“Oi!” Millie protested, but she raised her glass anyway.
“To Keira and Lucy!” the team chorused, their voices ringing out in the cozy room.
Keira leaned into Lucy’s side, her heart full. For the first time, their love didn’t feel like something to hide. It felt like something to celebrate.
And as they sat there, surrounded by the people who mattered most, Keira knew they’d made the right decision. Together, they could face anything.
###
The team had gone to bed hours ago, leaving the training ground’s accommodations cloaked in quiet. Outside, the wind whistled softly against the windows, rattling faintly as it passed. Inside the small room Lucy and Keira shared, everything was still, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the blinds.
Lucy stirred first, her body shifting slightly under the blanket. Her eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim light, before they instinctively flicked toward Keira. Keira lay curled on her side, facing away from her, with a mess of dark blonde hair fanning across the pillow. The blanket had slipped down to her waist, and Lucy frowned softly at the sight of Keira’s bare shoulder, exposed to the night’s chill.
Lucy smiled faintly to herself and reached over, careful not to disturb her. She tugged the blanket gently, draping it back over Keira’s frame. But as she lingered there, her gaze tracing Keira’s peaceful features, she felt the familiar tug in her chest—a soft, quiet ache of love.
For all the chaos of their lives—training, matches, travel, media, and endless expectations—it was these rare moments of stillness Lucy cherished the most. Here, it was just the two of them. No noise. No pressure. No masks. Just Lucy and Keira, wrapped in warmth and moonlight.
“You’re staring at me again,” Keira murmured suddenly, her voice low and drowsy, though a faint smile played on her lips.
Lucy froze, caught in the act. “I’m not,” she replied softly, though the corners of her lips betrayed her as they tugged upward.
Keira stirred slightly, her body shifting so that she could turn onto her back. Her sleepy eyes blinked up at Lucy, faintly glowing in the soft light. “You’re a terrible liar, Bronze.”
Lucy sighed dramatically, flopping back against the headboard as Keira smirked at her small victory. “Fine, you caught me,” Lucy muttered, though her voice was tinged with fondness.
Keira pushed herself up onto her elbows, her expression turning curious. “So? What were you thinking about?”
Lucy hesitated, shifting slightly under the blanket. “Nothing, really,” she said quietly. “Just... us. How lucky I am to have you.”
Keira’s smirk faltered slightly, replaced by something gentler, more vulnerable. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.” Lucy turned toward her, propping herself up on one elbow to meet Keira’s gaze more fully. Her hand reached out instinctively, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen across Keira’s face. “Every day I wake up, and you’re here... I just—sometimes it feels like it’s too good to be real.”
Keira’s lips parted slightly, her face softening even more. She turned her head to press her cheek against Lucy’s palm. “You’re such a sap,” she whispered, though her voice wavered faintly with emotion.
Lucy let out a low laugh. “I know,” she admitted easily, her thumb brushing gently against Keira’s skin. “But I can’t help it when it comes to you.”
Keira dropped her gaze for a moment, a small smile tugging at her lips. But when she looked back up, her expression had shifted slightly—serious now, and quietly uncertain. “Do you ever get scared?” she asked softly.
The question caught Lucy slightly off guard. She frowned slightly, leaning closer. “Scared of what?”
Keira’s gaze drifted toward the window, where moonlight pooled softly across the floorboards. “Scared of losing this,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “Of something happening, or someone coming between us. That one day, it’ll all just... go away.”
Lucy felt her chest tighten at the words. She didn’t like seeing Keira so vulnerable, so unsure. She sat up further, reaching out to take Keira’s hand in her own, cradling it gently. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice steady but filled with warmth. “Look at me.”
Keira’s eyes flicked back to hers, searching.
“You’re not going to lose me,” Lucy said firmly. “Ever. I promise you that. I know life is messy, and football makes it even messier, but you’re the one constant I’ve got, Keira. And I’m not letting go of you—no matter what happens.”
Keira blinked quickly, and Lucy could see the faint sheen of tears reflecting in her eyes. “How can you be so sure?” she whispered.
Lucy squeezed her hand gently, her lips curving into the softest of smiles. “Because I’ve been through enough to know when something is worth holding onto. And you, Keira Walsh—you’re everything to me.”
Keira let out a shaky breath, a faint, tearful laugh escaping her lips. “You really are a sap.”
Lucy grinned, tugging Keira’s hand until she could pull her close. Keira didn’t resist, shifting forward until she was nestled against Lucy’s chest, her head resting under Lucy’s chin. Lucy’s arms wrapped securely around her, and she pressed a lingering kiss to the top of Keira’s head.
They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped in each other, their breathing slow and steady. Lucy ran her fingers gently through Keira’s hair, feeling the warmth of her body against her own, and she thought—not for the first time—that nothing in the world mattered more than this.
Eventually, Keira broke the silence, her voice quiet. “Do you ever think about... the future?”
Lucy’s hand stilled momentarily before she began stroking Keira’s hair again. “All the time,” she replied softly.
Keira tilted her head slightly, looking up at her. “What do you see?”
Lucy smiled faintly, her gaze drifting toward the window as she pictured it. “I see us. A little house somewhere quiet—maybe back home, or maybe Spain, if you convince me. A garden for you to potter around in. A couple of dogs to keep us company. Just... a life that’s ours, away from everything.”
Keira’s face broke into the softest of smiles, her eyes shining. “And what about you?”
Lucy looked down at her, her voice gentle but full of conviction. “I see you happy. That’s all I care about. As long as I get to be part of it, it doesn’t matter where we are.”
Keira reached up then, cupping Lucy’s face in her hands. For a long moment, neither of them said anything. They simply looked at each other, sharing a quiet understanding that words couldn’t quite capture.
“I love you, Lucy,” Keira whispered finally.
Lucy’s expression softened even more as she leaned down, pressing her forehead to Keira’s. “I love you too. Always.”
Keira smiled, her thumb brushing gently across Lucy’s cheek. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”
Lucy nodded, her lips grazing Keira’s softly as she replied. “More than okay. We’re going to have everything we’ve ever wanted.”
The kiss that followed was slow and tender, full of unspoken promises. And when they finally lay back down together, Keira tucked into Lucy’s side, both of them felt the weight of the world melt away.
In that moment—quiet and perfect—it felt like forever was theirs for the taking.
---