everybody's watching her, but she's looking at you (Leah Williamson au)

PRESSURE

Leah's afternoon game takes a disastrous turn. I wince as I watch from home, her usual clearance of the goal line gets tipped a little off course and straight into the back of her own net. My heart breaks at the close up of her gutted expression, and Sky Sports have the nerve to show it repeatedly in HD during and after the game. It's incredibly unlucky, and she drops her head when the final whistle goes, the opposition snatching three points due to her last minute mistake. I can barely watch as the cameras follow her, her expression sullen and devastated. She shrugs off her teammates and angrily takes sips of her water, shaking her head at the words of the coaching staff.

My heart aches for her.

I quickly fire off a few text messages to my manager to move our afternoon meeting to later this evening, wanting nothing more than to be there for her when she finally gets home. Even if it's just for a few minutes, now's not the time to be like passing ships.

I ring the housekeeper and give her the afternoon off, cleaning up myself to pass the time until Leah's home. I set the living room up for a lazy afternoon with blankets and fluffed pillows. I lay out her comfy loungewear on the bed, set the heating on a timer and dress myself up for her.

Anything to soften the blow of today.

~

"Hey, baby." I greet her when she finally comes home with a delicate voice, too aware of how disappointed she'll be feeling right now. "How are you holding up?"

"Shit." Her response is clipped and her voice dry, void of any emotion whatsoever. "I just —." She pinches the bridge of her nose and barely looks at me. I know all her signs, I've spent hours cataloguing them and learning them, and one thing's for certain: Leah's angry as hell. She grits her teeth. "You saw it. I fucked up."

"You made one mistake." I try my best to console her as she throws her kit with a thud aimlessly in the reception room. "How many times have you saved the team's arse? You're incredible, don't let one mishap knock your belief in that."

"I get what you're trying to do Iz but I just don't need that right now." I flinch at her sharp words, taken aback. I watch on as she undoes her shoe laces and kicks them off to the side. She sighs as she looks at me. "Don't look at me like that."

I try and school my hurt expression into something more neutral as I shrug my shoulders. "I was just being honest."

"Well, what do you know?" She snaps carelessly as my breath catches. Her eyes widen and she shakes her head. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to snap. I'm just frustrated."

"You can be frustrated, I get it." I breathe out. I know she doesn't mean to take it out on me and my heart breaks in two at how hard she is on herself. "But I've seen the way you talk to others when they believe they've cost a game, and I'd like you to give yourself some of that love." I assure and give her a patient smile. "For me, at least."

Her jaw clenches for a moment and then she lets out a tired sigh. "I know. I think I'll just run a bath and chill out a little." She plucks her phone out of her pocket and scoffs, throwing it carelessly on the side table. "And maybe do myself a favour and stop rewatching the replays of it."

"See, you already know what you need." I say with a reassuring smile as I try and cheer her up but her expression remains grim. "Tell you what, why don't I run the bath and you can have a lay down on the sofa?"

"No, it's fine. I'll do it." She mumbles as she makes her way to the stairs.

I follow her, confused, but clinging on to the hope that I can try and change her mood. "Come on, I don't mind. Let me look after you."