blackout - Alexia Putellas

38.

too much going on today to put it in two proper sentences. i'm still absolutely speechless. enjoy. ☕️✍🏼

Surrounded by cheering crowds of Blaugrana, the therapist felt a wave of emotions wash over her as Eli's and Martha's arms enveloped her in a comforting embrace.

The significance of the moment was overwhelming, truly incredible as the sound of the full time whistle echoed through the arena - marking Barcelona's triumphant victory, securing their coveted spot in the UWCL final for the fifth consecutive year.

A remarkable achievement by any standard.

An hour felt like an eternity as Erin eagerly awaited Alexia outside the changing rooms, her heart racing as she waited for her two time Ballon D'Or winner. When the door finally swung open, her eyes lit up as the captain emerged, radiant and victorious.

"A la final, Bonita. We're off to Bilbao," the midfielder announced with a jubilant grin on her lips, but before she could say more, slender arms wrapped around her neck, urgently pulling her into a tight embrace.

Dropping her bag, the captain's arms instinctively found their way around the blondes slender waist, and she literally sensed the tension in Erin's hug.

"Are you alright, mi niña?" she inquired softly, concern lacing her words as she tenderly caressed the blonde's hair, attuned to her partner's trembling breath.

Nuzzling her face in the crook of Alexia's neck, Erin's voice quivered. "Bilbao is where you belong, love... but please don't put me through that again."

A pang of guilt tugged at the midfielder's heart as she held the therapist close, realizing the depth of her partner's anxiety, and the trigger she pulled as she went down earlier.

Gently pulling back, the captain presses a tender kiss to the blonde's forehead.

"I'm sorry, mi niña," she murmured, her voice filled with remorse, sparkling hazel eyes searching Erin's for reassurance. "Let me make it up to you. Night out with the girls? And you'll get whatever you want after"

As the excitement of the impending final bubbled over, Alexia's laughter rang out amidst her teammates' jubilation as a bunch of players exited the locker room.

"Alcohol sounds like just the thing we need right now... although I wouldn't mind just cuddling up with you at home," the therapist teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she observed the lively procession of players heading towards the parking lot, led by Mapi proudly waving a Barca flag, with Martha and Patri close behind, each carrying their own share of celebratory beverages.

As she moved to join the group, Erin found herself unexpectedly tugged back by Alexia, warm hands settling on her hips as she's pulled in.

"Home?" the captain raised an eyebrow.

With a playful slap on the midfielder's arm, the blonde tugged her along, retorting, "Si, that's what I said," as they followed the team down the hallway.

"Hm, well, that's something I could get used to," the midfielder remarked, her arm naturally finding its way around Erin's waist as she guided her towards the car, sports bag slung over her shoulder.

Basking in the comfortable silence, the therapist settled into the passenger seat, a sense of relief washing over her that she realized that Barcelona made it to the final. That Barcelona defeated Chelsea. That everything was okay.

Alexia was okay.

Her gaze absentmindedly followed the other players' cars leaving the parking lot, but it was the warm hand that found its way to her thigh that captured her attention. The warm, gentle circles the captain's fingertips traced against her inner thigh through the fabric of her jeans felt comforting.

It felt like home.

Unable to help herself, the blonde surrendered to the tender gesture, tears welling up in her eyes as she found herself overwhelmed by the flood of emotions coursing through her.

"Bonita?" the athlete asked as she pulled the door shut, concern lacing her words, "What's wrong?"

"When I saw you curled up on the ground holding your knee, I thought that was it," Erin shrugged, her voice small, her throat tight as she swallowed down the emotions she felt in that moment. "I thought that's it. It's over."

Tilting her head, the midfielder whispered softly, "It wasn't as bad as it seemed, Bonita. I'm sorry I scared you."

"It's not your fault, it's... it's just..." her voice trailed off, salty drops of tears trickling down her reddened cheeks, and she knew there was no need to wipe them away now that they were alone, all by themselves, "I couldn't handle seeing you go through what I did. It's... you're not like me. I was average. But... but you, you're..."

"So I made it into your all-time top 11?" Alexia's voice interjected gently, her hand folding atop Erin's in a comforting gesture.

Meeting the captain's sparkling hazel eyes, the therapist felt her heart swell at the tender smile gracing the brunette's lips. The smile that made her forget her worries. The smile that made her forget everything around them.

The power that smile held.

"You're sweet. But mostly annoying," Erin chuckled softly before wondering. "Will you drop the subject if I say yes?"

Starting the engine, Alexia's hand remained on the blonde's thigh, the touch warm and reassuring. "Si, if I get to captain your team?" she teased, guiding the car out of the parking lot with precision.

A delicate smile tugged at the blonde's lips as she leaned back against the headrest, her gaze fixed on the captain's hand that held hers so tenderly. She felt her breathing soothe at the gentle patterns Alexia's thumb traced against her skin, the touch so gentle, so warm.

The power that touch held.

"I'm proud of you, Bonita," the midfielder's voice filled the car as they merged onto the street, passing by a group of fans as they made their way from the parking lot.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be able to sit in the stands and watch you play. I couldn't bear it. It'd hurt too much," the two time Ballon D'Or winner continued, her tone calm and reassuring, even as her thumb continued its delicate patterns on the back of Erin's cold hand. "Thank you for bearing it for me. You're so much stronger than I will ever be."

Processing the captain's honest words as she melted against the soft leather of the passenger seat, the blonde felt a sense of peace wash over her as they drove through the night.

"You know," she reflected, shattering the comfortable silence, "If someone had told me when I boarded that flight to Seychelles that I'd be attending a final, watching my girlfriend play or have anything to do with football ever again, I would've laughed. I wouldn't have believed them."

Giving the blonde's cold hand a gentle squeeze, Alexia chuckled, "If someone had told me that I'd ever call anyone other than myself the strongest person, I would've laughed."

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