Love Yous
St. Albans — February 2025
Leah woke up before Elle did.
Which almost never happened anymore.
Usually Elle was awake first — making coffee, answering emails beside her, stealing the duvet while pretending she wasn't.
But this morning the apartment stayed quiet.
Soft winter light spilled through the curtains while rain tapped gently against the windows.
And beside her, Elle slept curled toward her side of the bed wearing one of Leah's old England shirts.
God.
That still did something catastrophic to Leah emotionally.
Hopeless.
Absolutely hopeless.
Leah stayed still for a while just watching her.
Not in a creepy way.
Probably.
Just... peaceful.
Because there was something deeply overwhelming about waking up beside someone and realising they'd quietly become part of your everyday life.
Not a visit.
Not temporary.
Real.
Elle stirred slightly then, still half-asleep as she instinctively moved closer until her forehead rested lightly against Leah's shoulder.
Automatic.
Sleepy affection.
Leah physically melted.
"You're staring," Elle murmured without opening her eyes.
"How are you conscious?"
"You breathe differently when you stare."
"That feels fake."
"It's not."
Leah smiled helplessly before kissing softly into her hair.
The room stayed quiet after that.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Then eventually Elle tilted her head slightly.
"You've got training?"
Leah nodded once.
"In a few hours."
"You should sleep more."
"I was trying."
"Liar."
Fair.
Very fair.
Leah brushed loose curls slowly back from Elle's face before speaking quietly.
"You know what's weird?"
"What?"
"This."
Elle frowned softly. "This?"
Leah looked around the room vaguely.
"You here. London. Waking up together all the time."
The softness in her voice settled instantly between them.
Because maybe that was the thing both of them kept noticing lately.
How naturally this had happened.
Not through one huge decision.
Just hundreds of tiny ones.
Staying another night.
Keeping clothes at each other's places.
Missing each other too much to pretend independence mattered more than closeness.
Elle watched her carefully.
"Does it scare you?"
Interesting question.
Because months ago the answer would've been immediate.
Yes.
Terrifyingly.
But now?
Leah thought about it honestly.
Then quietly—
"No."
God.
The simplicity of it nearly hurt.
No panic underneath it anymore.
No instinct to sabotage happiness before it disappeared.
Just certainty.
Leah smiled faintly to herself before speaking again.
"I think I spent a long time expecting things to end."
The honesty in her voice softened the whole room.
"Football. People. Happiness." She laughed quietly under her breath. "Everything felt temporary for a while."
Elle reached up slowly, fingers brushing gently along her jaw.
"I'm still here."
Simple words.
Huge meaning.
Leah leaned slightly into her touch before smiling.
"I know."
Silence wrapped softly around them again.
Outside the rain continued falling over St. Albans while somewhere downstairs Leah's piano sat quietly in the corner of the apartment and London slowly woke around them.
Then suddenly Elle narrowed her eyes slightly.
"What?"
"You're emotional lately."
Leah looked deeply offended.
"I'm literally lying in bed."
"You held my face in the kitchen yesterday like we were in a film."
"That was private information."
"And," Elle continued smugly, "you almost said something after dinner."
Leah immediately looked away toward the ceiling.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Because they'd never really done the big dramatic declaration.
No movie moment.
No huge speech.
It had happened differently.
Smaller.
Softer.
One sleepy "love you" after FaceTimes.
A quiet "I love being with you" whispered into shoulders and necks and late-night conversations.
Like both of them were slowly learning the words aloud instead of announcing them all at once.
"You noticed that?" Leah muttered.
Elle smiled instantly.
"You went bright red."
"Rude."
"True though."
Leah groaned softly into the pillow while Elle laughed beside her.
Hopeless.
Absolutely hopeless.
Then quieter—
"I think I'm just..." Leah hesitated briefly. "Happy."
The word settled gently between them.
Because that was the real thing underneath all of this.
Not grand declarations.
Not dramatic romance.
Just happiness.
Steady and warm and frighteningly real.
Elle leaned forward then kissing her softly.
Slow morning kisses.
Sleepy touches beneath blankets.
The kind that felt less like fireworks now and more like home.
When they finally pulled apart, Leah rested her forehead lightly against hers.
And so quietly it almost disappeared into the rain outside—
"Love you."
Not dramatic.
Not rehearsed.
Just true.
Elle smiled instantly.
"Love you too."
And somehow that felt even bigger because neither of them needed to turn it into a moment.
It already was one.