Miami
January 2025
Miami in January felt offensive to Leah personally.
"It's thirty degrees," she complained while stepping out of the airport in black leggings and an Arsenal hoodie.
Jackson looked at her in disbelief.
"You're British."
"Exactly. I'm built for disappointment and drizzle."
Beside him, Elle physically folded into laughter while Leah squinted aggressively into the sunlight like a Victorian child seeing modern technology for the first time.
This was Leah's first time meeting Jackson properly.
And unfortunately for her dignity, he and Elle shared the exact same sense of humour.
Meaning Leah had been bullied within seven minutes of landing.
"You really flew to Miami in all black?" Jackson asked while grabbing their bags.
"She owns three colours," Elle answered immediately. "Black, grey, and Arsenal."
"Traitorous behaviour from my own girlfriend."
But Leah was smiling too much to sound convincing.
The drive from the airport blurred by in warm ocean light and loud music while Jackson filled them in on Miami gossip and Elle sat turned slightly toward Leah the entire time with one hand resting absentmindedly against her thigh.
Tiny touch.
Constant touch.
The kind they'd both gotten frighteningly used to lately.
And honestly?
Leah loved this version of Elle.
Different from New York Elle.
Softer somehow.
Lighter here.
By the time they reached Jackson's apartment near the water, Leah already felt calmer than she had in weeks.
No football.
No media.
No London cold soaking into her bones.
Just sun and salt air and Elle stealing her sunglasses every ten minutes.
"Those are mine."
"They look better on me."
Rude.
Accurate.
But rude.
—
That evening they walked along the marina while sunset melted pink across the sky.
Leah kept stopping every few minutes just to stare at the ocean like someone emotionally overwhelmed by warmth.
"You're such an English stereotype," Elle informed her.
"I can't feel my skin. Why is it hot at night?"
Jackson snorted loudly beside them.
"Leah's actually funny."
Leah looked deeply offended.
"That sounded surprised."
"I watched your interviews for years. You seemed emotionally constipated."
Elle physically choked laughing.
Traitorous family.
But underneath the teasing sat something quietly important too.
Because Jackson watched the two of them together carefully all evening.
The touching.
The glances.
The unconscious way Leah always reached for Elle first.
And somewhere around dinner, he realised something.
This wasn't temporary.
Not even close.
—
Later that night, after Jackson disappeared out with friends, Leah and Elle ended up alone on the apartment balcony overlooking the water.
Warm wind moved softly through Elle's hair while Miami glowed gold beneath them.
And suddenly the world felt very far away.
Leah stood behind her with both arms wrapped loosely around her waist, chin resting against her shoulder.
Comfort.
Always comfort now.
"You know what your brother said to me earlier?" Leah murmured softly.
Elle smiled already. "Should I prepare emotionally?"
"He said—and I quote—'I've never seen you this calm around someone before.'"
Silence.
Elle leaned back slightly against her chest.
"Was he wrong?"
Leah's arms tightened instinctively around her waist.
"No."
The honesty in her voice settled warmly between them.
Because Miami felt different already.
Not rushed.
Not temporary.
No countdown hanging over them yet.
Just peace.
Leah pressed a slow kiss beneath Elle's ear before speaking again.
"You know what's scary?"
"What?"
"That London suddenly feels very real."
January.
Two months.
An apartment.
A version of life where they didn't need airports just to exist together.
Elle turned slowly in her arms then until she faced her properly.
Leah's hands stayed settled against her hips naturally.
Instinctively.
"You still want that?" Elle asked softly.
Leah looked almost offended.
"Desperately."
God.
That answer.
The certainty in it still overwhelmed Elle sometimes.
Leah brushed hair slowly back from her face before kissing her gently beneath warm Miami night air.
And when the kiss deepened, slower and softer and full of months of built-up longing finally allowed room to breathe, Elle smiled quietly against her mouth.
"What?" Leah murmured.
"You're happy."
Leah paused for half a second.
Then smiled.
Really smiled.
The kind that reached all the way into her eyes now.
"Yeah," she whispered softly.
And standing on a balcony in Miami while the ocean moved endlessly below them, Leah Williamson realised something life-changing:
for the first time in years, happiness no longer felt temporary.