blackout - Alexia Putellas

46.

how about the star, hm? so sad many forget to press or don't like the story but keep reading. also, i won't start talking about the men's Barça match yesterday. i'm still not recovered.

enjoy this chapter, i personally like it very much ☕️✍🏼

Alexia's entire body trembled as she allowed the words to sink in, her hands shaking as she tucked her phone away, a mix of emotions flooding her being.

She slowly lifted her gaze, tracing the slender figure standing before her.

The familiar sight of plain white sneakers and the borrowed pants from her own wardrobe greeted her eyes, and yet, it was the dark blue shirt that captured most of her attention. Yellow initials adorned the right side of the chest, while the emblem of the club that had been her lifelong passion adorned the other.

The two time Ballon D'Or winner was bleeding Blaugrana, so of course, the sight of her beloved one clad in a Barça shirt had her heart swell with emotion.

"That's- you- how did you-" Alexia attempted to speak, but her voice faltered, overcome with emotion as salty tears threatened to well up in her eyes again.

She couldn't help it.

She couldn't control herself whenever it came to Erin.

And at the sight of the midfielder's reaction, the  small curl of Erin's lips deepened, slender arms reaching out to draw her close.

"Babe..." the therapist's voice was gentle as she enveloped her girlfriend in a tight embrace, Alexia burying her face in the crook of Erin's neck, seeking solace.

"What's wrong?" the blonde whispered softly, cold fingertips threading through Alexia's bleached hair as she held her close.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the two time Ballon D'Or winner's voice was nothing but a muffled murmur, her grip tight around Erin's slender form, "I thought you hadn't decided yet, I- I thought that you'd-"

"I signed that contract two days ago... when you passed out on the couch after we got home, love," the therapist revealed, her touch tender as she caressed Alexia's neck, drawing her even closer.

As the midfielder absorbed the revelation, she couldn't help but hold her breath, her hazel eyes wide in disbelief, and glassy with tears as she held Erin's gaze with a mixture of astonishment and affection, her lips trembling with unspoken questions.

"Then why didn't you tell me sooner?" was all the athlete could manage to utter, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because..." Erin began, her smile softened as  cold fingers intertwined with the captain's warm hands.

With slow steps, she guided her toward the door and, with a gentle push, the blonde proudly revealed a small sign beside the door in the hallway.

"... I needed confirmation from Jonathan and the president. And I didn't want you to be sad... in case they'd overthink their offer," she explained, her voice tender as they entered the therapy room - Erin's therapy room.

She softly closed the door behind them, while the captain navigated toward the therapy bench, resting against it.

"Jonathan called me right after you left this morning," the blonde continued, her steps slow as she approached the two time Ballon D'Or winner, who held her face in her hands, visibly moved.