Keeping Score - final

☆ Summary: Clara takes a nasty hit to the head and ends up in the hospital. Her emergency contact is you, her older sister, who hates football and couldn't care less about Barcelona's star captain.

☆ Word Count: 5.4k

☆ Warnings: spiralling reader, pouty Alexia.

☆ A/n: This is the last chapter in their story! Maybe in the future I can write some follow-up blurbs! Anyway, thank you for keeping up with them until here.

..

You woke up to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar windows and a warm body pressed against your back. For a blissful second, you didn't remember where you were, but then, it all came crashing back - the storm, the fallen tree, the petty arguments, this bed, her lips, the...

Your eyes snapped open. The World Champion shirt on the wall came into focus, staring right back at you mockingly, the word ALEXIA flashing at you as if it were written in neon colours.

"Fuck," you whispered into the room. "No, no, no."

You burrowed your head deeper into the pillow, throwing an arm over your eyes, perhaps to shield your retinas from the photons flooding the room. Or perhaps it was just a desperate attempt to ignore the brunette sleeping next to you.

As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, the pressure eased the slight headache growing in your frontal lobe, but the memories of last night were sure to increase the ache by the second.

You had slept with Alexia Putellas. Your sister's captain.

The woman you had been arguing and bickering with for the past forty-eight hours. The woman whose house you were stuck in. The woman whose arm was currently draped over your waist possessively as if you belonged to her.

Asudden, the room felt too small. You were starting to get suffocated by Alexia's presence, by the very air of her room. You needed space to think, to figure out what the hell you had been thinking last night and how on earth you had the nerve to suggest that you two should do it all again.

You took a deep breath, expanding your chest cavity as much as possible to pull in the biggest amount of oxygen you could... your brain was going to need it.

Very carefully, you tried to extract yourself from her grip without waking Alexia up. Your thumb and index finger came together in a precise pincer grasp as you attempted to gently manoeuvre her hand away from your hip.

You were as subtle as a surgeon, or so you thought. Alexia stirred beside you, freezing you in place.

"Where are you going?" Alexia asked, her voice rough with sleep. Instead of letting go, her arm tightened, pulling you back until there was no space left between you.

"Bathroom," you lied quickly.

"Hm... no, stay," Alexia mumbled. She didn't even open her eyes as she let her head fall heavily against your shoulder. "You're very comfy."

The cadence of her breathing and the heat of her body acted like magnets, pulling you so strongly that breaking away felt like trying to defy a fundamental law of physics.

But you couldn't get comfortable, it was too dangerous and too new, and you needed to leave soon. You had to.

Your brother was right... You were like a scared cat, ready to run away as soon as you could, as soon as things got too real. And Alexia was right, too; maybe you did have a problem allowing yourself to have anything good. You certainly didn't deserve this - her kindness, her patience, the way she held you.

"I really need to, Alexia," you said, voice low. With a final tug, you manage to slip out of her hold.

"Come back soon... it's cold," she whined, the sound was so bafflingly vulnerable it made you feel guilty, as if it was your responsibility to keep Alexia warm forever.

She rolled over into the space you had just left, burying her face in your pillowcase to catch your scent.

You stood at the edge of the bed and took one look at her... She looked peaceful and beautiful in the morning light. Your stomach turned, and your heart beat irregularly, so much so that you thought you might be sick.

You felt a slight breeze on your chest, and when you looked down, you realised you were naked, completely naked. A fresh wave of heat crawled up your body as you scrambled to search the room for the clothes Alexia had given you last night.

Once you found the shorts and the Barça shirt, you fled to the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

As soon as you hear the click of the door, you pressed your back against the wood, trying to keep your breathing even. You were spiralling, totally out of your mind. Suddenly, everything you had done to Alexia (and everything you had let her do to you) settled heavily on your shoulders.

You weren't one for casual sex, but on the rare occasions you indulged, you bolted out of their beds before they awoke just to avoid the agonisingly awkward dynamics of the morning after.

But you couldn't run now. You were trapped until the maintenance crew cleared that tree from Alexia's driveway so you could take Clara home.

Your heart was hammering, and your hands were shaking with the thought of spending one more second in this house.

You had eaten Alexia out last night, and she had done the same to you. Your traitorous mouth had opened the moment she had asked you to put her fingers inside, and you had done it gladly.

The sex had been incredible, truly one of the best nights of your life, but now? All you could feel was a sting of embarrassment. Embarrassment for being too vulnerable, for sleeping and waking up in her arms, and for letting Alexia see the parts of you that weren't protected by your shielded personality.

Your eyes wandered around her bathroom, trying to focus on anything other than the woman lying on the bed on the other side of the door.

Her bathroom was infuriatingly normal. There was a bathtub on the right, a shower on the left. On top of the counter, set a pile of coloured athletic headbands; you remembered Clara wearing similar ones to play, maybe Alexia used them for matches, too.

There was a collection of skin care products, meticulously organised in an order you couldn't decode. You had given up on your skincare routine years ago when you realised the first step for healthy skin was eight hours of sleep, and you were lucky to get five.

Next to the sink, there was an electric toothbrush, a few hair ties, sunscream, day-to-day makeup and a package of tampons.

It all looked so incredibly normal and mundane, and it made you want to scream.

How could her word look so undisturbed when yours felt like it had turned upside down? How could Alexia's bathroom remain so pristine after you had broken your own promise to never catch feelings again? You had told yourself not to let anyone in, not after the last time you had tried, and it resulted in nothing but a wasted year.

Your hand clutched in fists, and you took a step forward, coming face to face with your reflection in the mirror.

If 'morning after' were a person, it was staring back at you.

You were a complete mess.

Your hair was all over the place, your cheeks were still flushed, and there were faint love marks across your neck. Your lips were swollen, and worst of all, you hated how right you looked wearing Alexia's clothes.

You leaned down and pressed your forehead against the marble counter, feeling its cold surface, hoping it would cool down your mind.

This couldn't be happening. You couldn't be developing feelings for Alexia after only two days of knowing her. You were sure that was impossible on some level - biologically, spiritually, astrologically, whatever it was - it didn't add up.

You turned on the tap and watched the water swirling down the drain, wishing you were small enough to be swept away with it, to disappear through Alexia's plumbing system and get out of here.

You splashed your face with warm water - because, of course, Alexia had a heating system - before attempting to piece yourself back together.

But well... it didn't work. Although you felt a bit less like a mess with your hair back in place, your face clean from the sweat of last night, and your mouth fresh from the mint mouthwash.

When you finally gathered the courage to leave the bathroom, the sight that met you nearly sent you running back inside.

Alexia was sitting up in bed, the sheets pooled around her waist. She was wearing only her sports bra, which looked small on her toned shoulders.

She looked annoyingly (and unfairly) perfect for someone who had just woken up; she had put her hair in a messy bun that didn't look messy at all. Her lips were a beautiful shade of pink, and despite your panic, you wanted to crawl back into bed and kiss her all over again, now that the lights were on.

Alexia didn't move. She just watched you as she leaned against the headboard, her posture relaxed, but her eyes were sharp; she didn't miss the way you gripped the door frame.

The captain smiled tentatively, but it didn't reach her eyes. It was like she was waiting for a reaction from you.

"Hey," she said with her low, morning voice. She sounded measured and careful, as if she were speaking to a wild animal she didn't want to startle "Everything okay?"

The question sent a shiver of anger through your chest. You looked at her with your mouth hanging open. Is everything okay?

Couldn't she see that everything was a disaster? That you had lost control of the only thing in your life that you could control, which was your actions? Your own composure?

Alexia tilted her head, her gaze dropping to the Barça shirt hanging off your shoulder, before returning to your eyes. She saw the love marks and the trembling in your hands. Most enraging of all, she didn't look sorry at all.

"Of course I'm not okay!" you shouted, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

"You are my sister's captain! I bet there are some stupid protocols in your stupid club about why this-" you gestured between yourself and her. "-shouldn't happen! I was just... sleep-deprived, okay? And I bet my prefrontal cortex was practically numb because there's no other explanation for what I just did!"

Alexia didn't move. She just crossed her arms, watching you with a look of mild fascination (and a flicker of alarm) as you paced before sinking onto the foot of the bed.

"And you... You are so...!! Ugh!" you continued, gesticulating at the air because, honestly, words weren't enough. "I let my guard down, and now everything is compromised, Alexia! I have a fucking board test about my residency in three weeks. I need to focus. I need a perfect grade so I can finally be a paediatrician. If I fail, no hospitals in Barcelona will take me, and I'll have to move. But I can't move because of Clara! And oh god, Clara-"

You pointed towards the door, your voice rising. "If she finds out, she will think I'm using her to get to you, or that you are using me to... to...? I don't even know! That poor kid is messed up already with the kind of parents we have; I don't need to add to the list of traumas she should work on in therapy! And-and your house is too big, and it makes me feel too small, and you are everywhere and... fuck! You have the ugliest sofa I have ever seen in my whole life, Alexia! And-"

You were mid-sentence, likely about to insult her interior design choices further, when Alexia reached out. Her fingers curled around your forearm, firm but gentle.

"Are you done?" she asked calmly.

You blinked, your mouth open like a fish. You let out a shaky breath and shook your head. "No," you said out of breath.

Alexia gave you a pointed look, but her voice remained gentle. "I think you are."

"I don't think I am," you insisted, but your shoulders were finally relaxing. "There are a billion more things I need to let out because this situation is ridiculous and-"

"Come here."

It clearly wasn't a suggestion; it was a command.

You found yourself moving toward her. Alexia didn't let go of your arm; instead, she guided you until you were sitting closer to her, and then, with a strength that shouldn't be that effortless, she pulled you onto her lap.

You froze, your heart beating fast. Being back in her space again, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her sports bras, turned your brain to mush once again.

"Okay," Alexia said, her voice patient, like she was talking to a kid. "So, we had sex."

You nodded frantically, relieved that she was finally understanding how catastrophic this whole thing was. "Yeah, exactly! We did, and that's the problem!"

"And I understand that this situation is difficult," she continued, her thumb tracing the skin of your wrist. "Because I am your sister's captain."

"Exactly!" you squeaked. "It's a massive conflict of interest!"

"And that you are a very workaholic person. And I am a very workaholic person."

"Exactly! We have no time for... whatever this is!"

"But," she said, her eyes locking onto yours, silencing your inner monologue instantly. "I would really like to see you again."

You opened your mouth to tell her a fresh list of excuses and rational (and ethical) reasons why the sheer possibility of last night happening again was so absurd. But Alexia was faster. She placed her palm gently over your mouth.

"Listen to me first, and you will listen," she said, her captain's voice on. "I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend. I'm not asking you to adopt a puppy with me. I'm asking for more nights like last night. That's it... simple."

She moved her hand away, but stayed close enough that your noses were almost touching.

"Maybe with a little less bickering," she mused, then tilted her head. "Actually... no. I like the bickering. It keeps you sharp."

"Alexia," you began seriously, trying to sound responsible even though you were sitting on her lap. "We. Had. Sex."

"Yes, we did. Very good sex, if I remember correctly. You didn't seem to think it was a problem while I was-"

"Don't," you cut her off, your face burning. "Don't finish that sentence."

"- while I was between your legs?" Alexia finished anyway, her lips twitching into a smirk.

"Stop!" you pressed your hands over your ears like a child. "I'm serious, Alexia!"

"So am I," she said, completely amused. "You're the one acting like we committed a crime. We had sex. Good sex. Between two adults who clearly wanted it."

"That's not the point-"

"Then what is the point?" Alexia asked. "Because from where I'm sitting - literally you're on my lap right now - the only problem is that you're panicking."

"I'm not panicking," you snapped, but your voice was too high and too defensive to be convincing.

"You ran to the bathroom the second you woke up," she pointed out. "You won't look at me properly. You're spiralling about your prefrontal cortex or whatever brain part you mentioned while you were talking nonstop."

"I'm spiralling because this was a mistake," you insisted, but even you could hear how weak it sounded. "I don't do this. I don't have casual sex with people I barely know. I don't sleep with my sister's teammates for god's sake! I don't-"

"You don't let yourself do anything you enjoy? Anything that isn't work-related or family-related?" Alexia finished for you.

That stopped you. "What?"

"You heard me," Alexia said, and her hand moved from your wrist to gently lace your finger through yours. "You don't let yourself have anything."

She took a deep breath, her expression softening. "Look... If you want to move on and pretend this didn't happen... fine. I won't bring it up again. But, if you want to give this one other try, I'll be here."

"I don't have time for a relationship," you said quickly.

Alexia looked around the room, as if searching for the 'relationship' you were so afraid of. "Neither do I. That's why I didn't say anything about-"

"We are not going to date," you said, the words rushing out before you could stop them, before you could even rationalise what you were saying and what it meant. "We are not going out, and we-we can continue to have sex, but Clara can't know about it."

"Okay."

"And it will be only sex."

"Fine by me," Alexia replied, her voice unbothered.

"But..." you paused, hating how small your voice sounded. "With cuddling."

"I would never deny you cuddling," Alexia said, and there was something soft in her eyes now.

You stared at her for a long moment, your mind racing through all the reasons this was a terrible idea. The complications, the secrecy, the fact that you barely knew each other, that you were already feeling things you shouldn't be feeling...

"Okay," you breathed.

"Okay?"

"Okay," you repeated, trying to be composed once again. "But we need rules."

"Rules," Alexia repeated, as if she was struggling not to laugh.

"I'm serious! We need boundaries and guidelines and parameters and protocols for-"

"For our sex-only arrangement?" Alexia said helpfully.

"Yes," you said firmly. "Exactly that."

"Okay, Doctor," Alexia said, and the way she said 'doctor' made something flip in your stomach; it always did. "What are your rules?"

"One: Clara doesn't find out. Ever."

"Agreed."

"Two: This doesn't affect your professional relationship with Clara. She is your player first."

"Always," Alexia said seriously.

"Three: No feelings."

Alexia raised an eyebrow. "No feelings?"

"None," you insisted. "This is physical... just a biological and anatomical exchange."

"... right," Alexia blinked, confused. "Biological and anatomical exchange... that's truly a way of describing any relationships."

You smiled at her for getting it.

"Yes! and four: Either of us can end this at any time, with no questions asked."

"Well, obviously, I'm not kidnapping you."

"Five: We don't tell anyone... no friends, no family. Anyone."

"Also agreed."

"And six..." You paused, trying to find the right words. "If this gets complicated - if it starts affecting Clara or our lives or anything - we stop immediately."

"Deal," Alexia said, but then, with a slow, predatory smirk, she added. "Any rules about the actual sex?"

You felt your face heat up. "What?"

"Well, if we're making rules," Alexia said innocently, "shouldn't we establish parameters for the physical aspect? Like frequency, duration, preferred techniques? I already know you are quite fond of oral stuff, but if there is anything else-"

"Alexia," you said, mortified. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying," Alexia continued, clearly enjoying your embarrassment, "communication is important in any arrangement-"

"I will literally get off your lap right now."

"No, you won't," Alexia said confidently.

"Yes, I will-"

Alexia's hands settled on your hips, holding you in place. It wasn't forceful, but it was firm enough that the message was clear. Firm enough to send something to your core.

You breathe hitched, and you wished Alexia would throw you in the bed right now.

See? Your brain was all stupid again.

"You let me hold you after you panicked," she said quietly. "You let me get my message through that thick head of yours, and you actually listened... So no, I don't think you are getting off my lap, or going anywhere, really."

"I'm going to my house," you said weakly. "As soon as I can."

"Of course you are," Alexia chuckled. "As I said, I'm not kidnapping you, Cari."

You didn't say anything, so Alexia continued.

"But I do know that despite all your rules, you want me, just a bit, and I-" she paused, her thumb tracing circles on your hip, "-want you too.."

"Just physically," you said, out of breath, feeling nervous by her words, her presence.

"Yeah... of course, just physically," Alexia agreed, but something in her eyes told you she didn't mean what she was saying. "So... Do we have a deal?"

You should say no.

You should get up, get dressed (in your clothes), check on Clara, and get the hell out of this house. You should go back to your normal, perfect and controlled life and forget this ever happened.

But Alexia's hands were warm on your hips, and you could still feel the phantom heat of her mouth on your skin. The way she was looking at you made you feel seen in a way you hadn't in years.

"Deal," you whispered finally. Feeling scared, but relieved at the same time.

"Good," Alexia said, and pulled you down into a kiss that was entirely too soft to simply seal an agreement.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy, you rested your forehead against hers.

"This is going to be a disaster," you muttered.

"Probably," Alexia agreed cheerfully. "But it'll be fun."

"Mhm," you hummed. "Maybe."

The peace lasted exactly two seconds. From down the hall, you heard a door open and Clara's groggy voice calling out. "Ale? Where are you?"

You and Alexia froze, your eyes wide.

You looked at each other and became painfully aware of how compromising your position was.

"Ale?" Clara called out again

You watched her shadow pass through the gap beneath the bedroom door. Clara began a low-muttered monologue to herself, one that you embarrassingly realised sounded exactly like your own anxious spirals.

"Is my sister here? Her car is out front and - holy shit, is that a tree?!" Clara's voice spiked into a shout. "Alexia!"

Her footsteps came back down towards the room, and then came the frantic pounding on the wood. You quickly got off of Alexia's lap, but her hand gripped your hip, refusing to let you go.

She had a pout on her face, her eyes pleading.

"Stay with me a bit," she murmured.

You looked at her, baffled.

"Are you deaf? Can't you hear the kid pounding on the door?" You whispered-yelled, pointing at the handle.

"She will stop soon if we don't say anything; she'll think I'm sleeping," Alexia said with a shameless smile, trying to drag you back into her. "Kiss me again. I missed it while I was sleeping."

You rolled your eyes, taking a firm step back and gently patting Alexia's hand away as if she were a misbehaving puppy. It was such a light pat, really just a brush on her hand, but recoiled as if you had slapped her.

"Go put on some decent clothes so we can go out," you hissed. "And - oh my god! You have a love bite on your chest! Go put a shirt that covers it and-"

You stopped because Alexia was just staring at you, her eyes narrowing stubbornly.

"What?" you asked, your heart beating fast. "What's wrong? Do I look too messed up? Is there-"

Alexia simply extended her hand towards you, palm down. You looked at it, then back at her. Behind you, Clara was still calling Alexia.

"What?!" you exasperatedly whispered. "What is it?!"

"Kiss it," she said simply, waving her hand with a lazy flick of her wrist for emphasis.

Your mouth fell open, you looked at the door, then back at her again. "What?!"

"Kiss. It," she repeated.

"Kiss what?! What are you talking about? Oh god, Alexia! Go get dressed!"

"Not until you kiss the hand you hit!"

"Hit? Alexia?!" you asked, borderline angry. "What is your problem? Do you have a clinical deficiency in your sense of urgency? Don't you hear my sister? Damn, maybe you are deaf!"

"I don't have any problems! You do." Alexia countered, her chin up. "You think everything is an emergency!"

Everything is an emergency! A teenager with a recent concussion knocking on her door was the definition of an emergency. You wanted to kill Alexia, but you also hated how cute her pout was and how her voice turned into a soft whine when she was being petty.

"You are so incredibly annoying," you muttered, rolling your eyes so hard it hurt. You grabbed her hand and gave it a quick, dry peck. "Good? Now let's go."

"No."

"No??!"

"Kiss it like you mean it," she demanded, shoving her hand back into your face. "Like... kiss it tenderly."

You took a deep breath, curling your hands into fists before forcing them to relax, before you exhaled. With a fake smile on your face, you took her hand.

This time, you let your lips linger on her skin. You thought her skin would be warm, but it wasn't. It made you want to find her a pair of gloves, or turn up the heater, or simply keep your lips there until she was warm enough to your liking.

You pulled away, and she was wearing the look of pure triumph.

"Now, " you gritted. "Can we go?"

"Of course, Cari," she said cheerfully, hopping out of bed and disappearing into the bathroom to change.

When she finally came back, you both opened the door.

Clara was standing there, her mouth already open to shout questions, but she froze the second her eyes landed on you standing at Alexia's side.

At first, she looked relieved, but then the pieces started to click into place.

Her gaze dropped to the oversized Barça shirt you were wearing, then she flickered to Alexia, and back at you again.

"Oh damn," Clara whispered, her hand going to her head.

Your doctor's instincts hit high alert. You stopped forward, arms wide as if ready to catch a falling patient.

Your mind began to race. Clara was going to faint, and you needed to get to the car so you could treat her at the hospital and fuck, this was all Alexia's fault.

Maybe she had been pounding on the door because she was symptomatic, and you were too busy kissing Alexia's hand to notice.

You grabbed Clara's forearms, and Alexia took a step behind you, also alert.

"Clara? You are pale. What's wrong?" Alexia asked, trying to lean in, but you instinctively elbowed her in the ribs to keep her back.

"Ow!" She whined.

"Bebé, talk to me", you said to Clara, guiding her to sit in a chair in the hallway. Who the hell put chairs in empty hallways? Alexia's sense of interior design was outrageous. "What's wrong?"

"I think my concussion is grade 3 now, mana," Clara said breathlessly.

"What? Why? Are you feeling nauseous? Dizzy?" you asked rapidly, getting down on your knees to stand in front of her to check her pupils."

"I think I'm hallucinating!" Clara cried, pointing a trembling finger between you and Alexia.

You froze. "What?"

"HA-LU-CI-NA-TING," Clara said slowly, as if you were stupid. "Because there is no way I just saw you in the morning in the same room as my captain, who's Alexia Putellas, mind you, wearing her shirt?"

Your mouth fell open. Fuck. You hadn't planned for this.

You hadn't rehearsed a single line for when Clara realised you slept in Alexia's room.

The panic began to bubble up, you were going to be found out, and the rules were going to be broken before they even started and-

"We shared the bed because the storm was too dangerous for her to drive you guys home," Alexia said easily, leaning on the corridor's wall.

"She's wearing an old shirt of mine because she didn't have anything that wasn't dripping with rain. We didn't want to get into your room and wake you up just to find her something to wear."

As if Alexia's words were magic, the tension drained out of Clara. She let out a long and relieved breath.

"Oh! Okay... well...that makes sense! " Clara said, relieved as she stood up and beamed, as if it were really that simple. Maybe to a teenager it was. "I'm so hungry I could eat a whole horse-"

With that, Clara walked towards the kitchen.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, your mind finally relaxing.

"Okay..." you whispered, more to yourself. "That was incredibly too easy... that's weird."

When Clara was out of sight, you felt a presence behind you. Alexia properly pressed herself against your back, her mouth hot and close to your ear.

"You are going to kiss my belly better later," she whispered.

She pressed a kiss to your cheek before stepping back, leaving you flushed. You wondered if words could ever mark someone, physically, like a birthmark. If they could, you were certain you would be covered in Alexia's handwriting by now.

You gathered all of your courage to turn and face Alexia. You found her exactly as you expected, relaxed with a lazy smirk on her face. You couldn't pinpoint why she was already so predictable to you. Maybe you were too observant, or maybe she was just that transparent when she won or was right about something.

You looked at each other's eyes for longer than necessary. While your body was rigid, Alexia wasn't.

"You two look alike," she mused.

"No," you corrected her automatically. "She takes after mum. I take after dad. Our hair is different, and our height is different, and Clara has better legs, and our hair colour-"

"You both talk a lot when nervous," she interrupted. "And you're both comically dramatic. It's really endearing."

Before you could say anything back, maybe defend your (and seemingly Clara's) temperament, Alexia was already walking away, her voice loud enough to be heard from the kitchen.

"Hey, Clara! Your sister just told me we can make chocolate pancakes with extra chocolate. What do you say? And what about some coffee? I really need a cuppa."

You rolled your eyes, a groan escaping your lips. You had never said such a thing; you didn't allow that much sugar for breakfast, especially for a recovering patient.

A few minutes later, you followed the sound of their voices into the kitchen, but you stopped short at the threshold.

Alexia wasn't just making coffee; she was teaching Clara how to weigh and grind the beans, explaining the process patiently.

The sight of them together, Clara's face lit up with admiration and Alexia's soft expression as she corrected Clara's grip on the small machine made you feel all warm inside.

As the smell of fresh coffee began to fill the kitchen, you became certain of one thing: your rules were already becoming impossible to follow.

..

The end.

Roll the credits.

Or wait...

Actually...

It wasn't just physical. It was never physical.

You became the kind of friends with benefits who called each other at 1:53 am because a horror movie you had watched was too scary, and you couldn't sleep alone.

Clara was traumatised

Three months after you two started your sex only agreement, Clara caught you and Alexia having sex in your house after deciding to leave a party early to come home (big regret, huge regret)

You became a topic in Clara's therapy sessions.

Her therapist now had a whole new section in her notes titled "Walking in on my sister with my captain."

To make amends with Clara:

Alexia did the most Alexia thing, which was to buy Clara a golden retriever. Yes. An actual golden retriever.

You didn't speak to Alexia for a week because "Alexia, why would you buy my sister a DOG?! I have to beg her to finish her homework! And now I'll have to beg her to take care of a living-breathing thing."

Alexia was your plus-one at Gerard's wedding.

Your grandma was there and asked if you two were dating. You said no so fast that it sounded suspicious. Alexia kicked you under the table, but she kissed you better later.

The "no feelings" rules.

It lasted approximately thirty-four days before Alexia said "te quiero" into the nape of your neck while you were falling asleep. You pretended not to hear it. She knew you heard it. You said it back eight days later.

You moved in together.

After exactly eight months, because, in Alexia's words, "You're here almost every night anyway." And by moving in together, it meant that Clara did too because she's still your bebé, even if she was eyeing a flat at the Barça complex for the next season.

You still think that sofa was hideous.

But Alexia finally replaced it. With an even uglier one... sigh.

You passed your board exam.

Alexia took a copy of your certificate and framed it. It was the first thing she ever hung in her living room, the very first piece of history in her home that wasn't about trophies or victories.

The tally was never settled.

Alexia is still keeping score.

..

A/n: Thank you for reading! <3