Ordinary
St. Albans — October 2024
The thing nobody warned Leah about was how quickly she got used to Elle being there.
It happened almost immediately.
Within days, her apartment stopped feeling like hers and started feeling like theirs.
Elle's shoes abandoned near the door.
Coffee already made when Leah came downstairs after early training.
Belle refusing to sleep anywhere except directly outside the guest room Elle technically wasn't even using anymore.
Domesticity hit Leah Williamson like a truck.
"You're staring again."
Leah blinked from where she leaned against the kitchen counter watching Elle make toast in one of Leah's Arsenal hoodies.
"I'm literally not."
"You absolutely are."
Leah smiled into her coffee quietly.
Because honestly?
She couldn't help it.
This version of happiness still surprised her slightly.
Not dramatic.
Not chaotic.
Just... peaceful.
The rain tapped softly against the windows while morning light filled the flat in pale gold.
Leah had training in an hour.
Elle had agency meetings in London later that afternoon.
Normal life.
Real life.
And somehow that felt more intimate than airports or reunions ever did.
"You know what's concerning?" Elle asked while turning around finally.
"What?"
"You seem weirdly happy for someone going to double training."
Leah shrugged lightly. "Maybe I enjoy suffering."
"No," Elle smiled softly, "I think you just like coming home now."
God.
That sentence landed directly in Leah's chest.
Because maybe that was true too.
For so long football had been the only place Leah fully understood herself.
The only constant.
But now?
Now there was this too.
Someone waiting for her afterwards.
Someone who knew the difference between her media smile and her real one.
Someone who made the hard days softer just by existing inside them.
Leah set her coffee down slowly before walking toward her.
"What?" Elle asked immediately.
Leah just shook her head once.
Then wrapped both arms around her waist and buried her face briefly against her shoulder.
No words.
Just closeness.
Elle melted instantly.
"Well this feels emotional."
"Shut up."
Elle laughed softly, fingers sliding automatically into Leah's hair.
And there it was again.
That calm.
The one Leah spent years thinking she'd never really get to keep.
"You know," Elle murmured quietly, "Amanda texted me yesterday."
Leah pulled back immediately. "Why are you and my mother communicating privately?"
"She sent me a photo of you aged eleven."
Leah looked horrified.
"Oh my God."
"She said—and I quote—'Please humble her.'"
"Traitorous family."
Elle grinned. "You had braces."
Leah physically walked away toward the kitchen in protest while Elle laughed behind her.
Humiliating.
Absolutely humiliating.
But underneath it all sat warmth.
Real warmth.
Because this no longer felt fragile anymore.
Not after Australia.
Not after New York.
Not after choosing each other again and again through all the messy parts.
Leah grabbed her training bag from beside the sofa before glancing back toward Elle.
And suddenly paused.
Because Elle looked so naturally placed inside her life now it almost startled her.
Barefoot in the kitchen.
Leah's hoodie hanging off one shoulder.
Making breakfast in their flat like she'd always belonged there.
"You're doing the thing again," Elle murmured without looking up.
Leah smiled softly this time instead of denying it.
"Yeah," she admitted quietly.
Elle looked over finally.
And the softness in Leah's expression made her chest ache immediately.
"What?"
Leah hesitated briefly.
Then honest—
"I think I could get used to this very easily."
Silence settled warmly between them.
Not heavy.
Not frightening.
Just real.
Elle walked toward her slowly then until she stood directly in front of her.
"You know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think," Elle whispered softly, "you already have."
And standing there in the middle of an ordinary kitchen in St. Albans, Leah realised something terrifyingly beautiful:
for the first time in her life, love didn't feel like something she had to survive.
It finally just felt like home.