City Lights
New York — 12:43am
Leah didn't let go of her hand.
That was the first thing Elle noticed.
Not while they left the hotel bar. Not in the elevator. Not even when cold December air hit them outside onto the Manhattan sidewalk.
Leah just... kept holding it.
Like it had already become natural.
New York glittered around them — headlights streaking across wet roads, steam curling from subway grates, music spilling from somewhere down the block. The city felt alive in that late-night way where everything softened slightly around the edges.
Elle glanced sideways at Leah as they walked.
Black coat. Hands shoved into pockets except for the one holding hers. Blonde hair messy from rain already.
Beautiful.
Annoyingly beautiful.
"You know," Elle said lightly, "for someone who claimed she was emotionally unavailable, this is very girlfriend-coded behaviour."
Leah laughed quietly beside her.
"Is it working?"
Elle pretended to think about it. "Unfortunately."
Leah's grin widened slightly.
God.
That smile was becoming dangerous.
They walked slowly through Midtown with no real destination. Neither seemed interested in ending the night yet.
That was the strange thing.
Usually first dates involved performance. Careful versions of yourself. Small talk stretched awkwardly across drinks.
This didn't feel like a first date anymore.
It felt like finally catching up with someone she already knew.
"You're quieter in person sometimes," Elle noticed.
Leah glanced at her. "Good quiet or bad quiet?"
"Good."
A taxi splashed rainwater lightly onto the curb as it passed. Leah instinctively pulled Elle slightly closer away from the street.
The movement was automatic.
Protective.
And the tiny gesture hit Elle embarrassingly hard.
"You do that a lot," she murmured.
"What?"
"Look after people."
Leah shrugged lightly. "Captain habit."
"No," Elle said softly. "I think it's just you."
The city noise around them suddenly felt distant again.
Leah looked at her for a second too long.
Then looked away first.
Interesting.
That made warmth curl low in Elle's stomach.
Because Leah Williamson — England captain, media-trained beyond belief, painfully composed most of the time — was nervous around her too.
And maybe that was why this felt real.
They stopped outside a tiny late-night bookstore still glowing softly despite the hour.
Elle gasped immediately. "Oh my God."
Leah looked amused. "You're reacting like we found treasure."
"We did."
The owner looked mildly annoyed letting them in so late, but Elle wandered inside like she'd entered heaven itself.
Leah followed quietly behind her, watching more than browsing.
And maybe it was the intimacy of small spaces or the warmth after the cold outside, but suddenly everything felt closer in here.
Narrow aisles.
Soft jazz.
Books stacked dangerously high.
Elle pulled a novel from a shelf and turned toward Leah excitedly. "Have you read this?"
Leah stared at her for a second before answering.
Not because of the book.
Because Elle looked beautiful like this.
Animated. Comfortable. Eyes bright beneath warm light.
"What?" Elle asked slowly.
Leah blinked once. "Nothing."
"You're staring again."
"You're distracting."
Elle smiled slowly. "You flirt constantly in person."
Leah stepped closer casually, hands tucked into her coat pockets. "Maybe you bring it out in me."
The distance between them shortened.
Not enough.
But enough that Elle could smell her perfume now — clean and warm and vaguely addictive.
Neither moved.
The tension from earlier returned instantly.
Sharper this time.
Because now there was no booth between them. No crowded bar. No distraction.
Just Leah looking at her like she was trying very hard not to cross a line she desperately wanted to cross.
Elle's pulse fluttered.
"You know what I've been trying not to think about all night?" she asked quietly.
Leah's eyes stayed fixed on hers. "What?"
"How easy this feels."
Something softened immediately in Leah's face.
Because yes.
Exactly that.
Elle swallowed slowly.
"I thought maybe we'd meet and it'd feel awkward or different or..." she laughed nervously, "...less."
Leah stepped closer again.
Now barely inches apart.
"It doesn't," Leah said softly.
The bookstore suddenly felt too warm.
Elle's heart thudded hard enough she was sure Leah could hear it.
"You're nervous again," Elle whispered.
Leah smiled faintly. "You make me nervous."
The honesty of it nearly ruined her.
Outside, snow had started falling lightly over Manhattan.
Inside the tiny bookstore, Leah's eyes dropped briefly to Elle's mouth.
Once.
Twice.
And that tiny movement changed the air completely.
Elle felt it immediately.
The shift.
The moment before something happens.
Neither spoke now.
Neither looked away.
Then quietly, almost like she was giving Leah a choice—
"You can kiss me, you know."