𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 ★ leah williamson

3 - all eyes on you

As I wore my red kit in the changing room the next morning, I felt a little more content. The number eight had always been my safe spot- it'd been my number at Bayern and now, due to the recent departure of Jordan Nobbs, it was written across my back at Arsenal. Even though I was very aware of the fans' opinions about me taking an icon's number, I couldn't get myself to care a lot. Number eight was my number. It'd been my Dad's number, and it would hopefully, one day be my number for the national team.

"Suits you", Leah smiled at me as I sat down onto the bech to put on my socks.

"Thanks", I grinned back. I hadn't asked Leah about Jordan yet, not wanting to intrude her privacy but knowing very well she had some feelings about me taking her best friends or possibly (ex) girlfriend's number.

"It's a bit big on you though, isn't it?", she laughed as she looked me up and down, realising the shirt was almost covering my white shorts, swallowing me whole and the sleeves almost reaching my elbows. I smiled again.

"That's how I like it."

I had been surprised when Jonas agreed to my weird order and had let me order the team kit and all other pair of shirts two sizes too large. He hadn't asked about it, but I'd known he was curious so I told him the truth.

"It's a superstition of mine. I'm just used to shirts too big", I explained, this time to Leah, as I tucked the ends of my shirt into the shorts, checking in the mirror that my name and number was still visible.

"Really? How come?", Leah asked, interestedly, as she pulled up her own socks.

I began braiding my ponytail, the other girls buzzing around the locker room.

"I used to wear my Dad's shirts to every practice and they were always far too large for me. When I came to Bayern and first got shirts fitted to me, it just felt wrong, so I ended up with this", I pointed down to my shirt, smiling at the fond memories of my childhood, and the first day I'd insisted to wear my Dad's original Germany shirt, the number eight written on the back, to practice with the boys.

When my braid was finally done I turned to Leah, who had also finished changing, and looked back at me with a smile. Many of the other girls had already left the locker room, so it was only her, Beth, Viv and me left.

"Let's go", she ordered, getting up and walking with me to the exit of the changing room, out into the London sun. Bikes were ready for us to grab, with little go-pros installed on them.

"Look!", I turned to Viv, who was grimacing at the sight of the cameras.

"I hate media day", she huffed, getting onto the bike and cycling away without another word. I soon looked back at Leah, who was stood next to my bike, looking at it with dread in her expression.

"I don't ride bikes", she announced, holding her water bag tighter and beginning to walk next to my bike, which slowly started rolling.

"Come on Leah, don't be a party-pooper", I sighed, stopping next to her and pointing to the back of my bike. She raised her at eyebrow at me.

"Ellie if you drop me", she threatened, but I interrupted her before she was able to continue.

"I won't", I promised and smiled as she slowly swung a leg over the back of my bike, her arms wrapping around my stomach carefully. I heard her curse underneath her breath, but decided not to pry as she seemed genuinely scared. I began cycling.

"Come on, we've gotta catch up", I joked before raising my tempo, seeing Beth, Viv and Lotte in the distance ahead of us.

"Ellie!", Leah exclaimed, wrapping her arms tighter around me as I finally reached Lotte, who'd dropped back a little.