January
St. Albans — Late October 2024
Leah almost ignored the FaceTime.
Not intentionally.
She'd just gotten home from training exhausted and freezing and emotionally attacked by English weather.
Again.
"You look tragic," Elle informed her immediately once the call connected.
Leah dropped dramatically onto the sofa still wearing her Arsenal tracksuit.
"I've had to run outside for employment."
"Thoughts and prayers."
"Thank you."
Elle laughed softly from her apartment in New York, curls damp from a shower and oversized hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands.
God.
Leah missed her already.
Pathetic honestly considering it had been less than a week.
"You know what Beth asked me today?" Leah murmured.
"What?"
"She asked if I was in my 'yearning era.'"
Elle physically burst out laughing.
"That's horrible."
"She said I stare out windows now."
"Do you?"
Leah looked deeply offended.
"...occasionally."
Rude.
Very rude.
The laughter softened after that into something quieter.
Comfortable.
The kind of silence they'd learned together slowly over time.
Not needing to constantly fill space anymore.
Then suddenly Elle looked nervous.
Interesting.
Because Elle usually spoke first and thought later.
"What?" Leah asked immediately.
Elle narrowed her eyes. "Why do you always know?"
"You get this face."
"There's no face."
"There absolutely is."
Elle groaned softly and leaned back against her kitchen counter.
Then quieter—
"So... I got offered more work in Europe."
Leah blinked once.
"Oh?"
"Campaigns mostly. January into March."
Something shifted instantly in Leah's posture.
Attention.
Hope.
Careful hope.
"That's amazing," she said softly.
Elle smiled faintly. "Yeah. It's good."
"But?"
God.
Annoying how well she knew her now.
Elle looked down briefly before speaking again.
"One of the agencies asked if I'd consider basing myself in London for a while."
Silence.
Real silence.
Leah stared at the screen.
Then—
"What?"
Elle laughed nervously immediately.
"Not permanently."
Leah still looked stunned.
"Like... London London?"
"Yes, Leah. There's generally only one."
"That feels geographically significant."
The softness in her voice nearly undid Elle on the spot.
Because there it was.
That tiny flicker of emotion Leah never quite hid fast enough around her.
"I'd only be there a couple months," Elle continued carefully. "January to maybe March."
Leah sat very still processing.
And unfortunately her face immediately gave everything away.
Hope.
Pure hope.
"I'd have my own place obviously," Elle added quickly.
That part mattered.
Not because she didn't want to stay with Leah.
Because she did.
Too easily probably.
But this needed to be real.
Healthy.
Not disappearing entirely into each other's lives before they figured out what normal even looked like.
"I wouldn't want to just... move into your flat," Elle admitted quietly.
Leah shook her head immediately.
"No, I get that."
And she genuinely did.
Because maybe part of her needed that too.
To know they chose each other intentionally.
Not just conveniently.
Still—
the thought of Elle being in London for actual months instead of rushed visits made something dangerous bloom inside her chest.
"You'd really do that?" Leah asked softly.
And God.
There it was again.
That quiet vulnerability.
Like she still couldn't fully believe someone would rearrange their life to be closer to her.
Elle smiled gently.
"I think I want to know what we're like without airports."
The words hit Leah directly in the ribs.
Because suddenly she could picture it too clearly.
Sunday mornings together.
Random weeknight dinners after training.
Seeing each other without countdown clocks attached.
Normal.
Real.
Leah looked down briefly before laughing softly under her breath.
"What?"
"I think my heart just did something medically concerning."
Elle burst out laughing.
But Leah still looked overwhelmed now.
Not panicked.
Just emotional.
"You know what's terrifying?" she admitted quietly.
"What?"
"How badly I want that."
Silence settled softly between them.
And somewhere between New York midnight and rainy North London evening, both women realised the same thing:
their relationship was quietly approaching a point where distance might stop being the default.