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It's all softness, quiet, a happiness that penetrates the line of between conscious and asleep and wraps around you even if you aren't fully aware of it.
Then there's an alarm somewhere.
“Hmmmmmph.”
It gets snoozed once, then twice, and the third time as well, but by then they're both awake anyway. As much as she’d like to, Lucy finds there’s really no point in pretending sleep will find them again. Her mind is already going a hundred miles an hour, and she wishes that happiness from before would tighten its grip around her for a couple minutes more.
“What time's your flight again?”
Ona’s face scrunches in displeasure, as if in the space between her last alarm and the present moment she's somehow managed to forget she has to leave and is very upset to be so rudely reminded. “12:15, I think it was. Mmm, I should check.” She doesn't make any attempt to reach for her phone, and instead buries her face deeper into Lucy's shoulder.
Lucy does the maths in her head. “We need to get breakfast, then. And pack your things. We should have last night, really, you'll probably leave half of your suitcase here again by accident. Do you want me to drive you? I think it might actually not be the worst time to grab a taxi, the traffic’s prob-”
“Shhhhhhh.” Ona makes a point in shoving her index finger forcefully up against Lucy's lips. “Get me a coffee, before you start being all neurotic.” Lucy responds by chomping down on the finger at her mouth and is met by scrunched eyebrows and a hint of a grin Ona can't quite hold back.
“Let go of me, then.” Even when the two wake up without being wrapped around each other, one of them always inevitably finds their way into the other’s arms again during the not-quite-awake-not-quite-asleep period between the first few alarms. Now Ona’s leg is draped over Lucy's hips, and the hand that was just by Lucy’s face has moved down to grasp at her bicep, and getting out of bed is impossible, maybe not physically, but definitely mentally.
Ona responds with a questioning eyebrow, and the two hold competitive eye contact for a while before Lucy realises that she really has nothing to gain from winning this one. “Don't, actually,” she says before wrapping her arms tightly around Ona and flipping them over. The crook of her girlfriend’s neck, where Lucy promptly buries her face, is perhaps her favourite place in the whole world, and spending time on breakfast and packing and travelling to the airport seems like such a waste of time when she could have this for a couple minutes longer. This, the warmth, the comfort, the quiet, the smell of Ona's bodywash and shampoo morphing into one, the feeling of Ona’s hands drawing patterns on her upper back - for a second Lucy really thinks nothing could ever rip her from this.
The alarm goes off again.
“I'm going to kill someone.”
Lucy breathes in Ona’s scent for a couple more seconds before putting on her brave face, reaching for Ona’s phone, and turning off that damned, cold-hearted, unforgiving alarm for good. She looks down at her girlfriend and pouts, and is met with a soft smile, but Lucy can tell it falls a bit wonky around the edges. “C’mon, let's go get breakfast, baby,” Ona says. It wouldn’t be audible to anyone else, but Lucy could hear the heaviness deep in her chest from a mile away, and God, Lucy hates these mornings.
Despite the difficulties, they make it to the kitchen, and Ona ends up sitting on the counter with a cup of coffee, swinging her legs, while Lucy runs around the apartment trying to clear up all of Ona’s miscellaneous clutter and throw it into her suitcase. They're never very good with getting to the airport on time, and she just wants to make sure her girlfriend is somewhat packed before they get distracted again, by jokes, stories they've forgotten to tell each other, and a thousand kisses they just can't quite resist on the way.
“Slow down, your knee will really give out at this rate,” Ona shouts from her perch atop the counter, and is promptly met with a T-shirt flung at her face.
Lucy takes a glance around the apartment before deciding that, eh, good enough, and comes back into the kitchen to leave a kiss on Ona’s forehead and get things ready to make each of them an omelette. “Do you want me to pack you anything? I have sandwich material, I think, but not much else. Could drop by somewhere on the way, really, there's-”
Lucy's restless energy might be vital to their morning routines - without it, neither of them would probably ever make it onto a plane - but it's still a lot to handle. “I'll be fine, Lucy. They have service on the plane, you know. Sit down for a second.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” she says, with a tiny salute, before sitting down in front of Ona on a bar stool. The magnetism between them is unstoppable, as usual, and soon Lucy’s hand is drifting up Ona’s thigh innocently enough, and Ona’s hand finds the back her girlfriend’s neck, and it doesn’t take long until she sets her cup of coffee down on the counter and ducks down to pull Lucy in for a kiss. Lucy grins into it, knowing very well this is only one of many distractions yet to come.
By some miracle, Lucy finds her way back to the stove and manages to serve her girlfriend breakfast somewhat on time. They giggle and bicker and get needlessly touchy throughout the meal, and by the time they’re finished, Lucy glances at her watch and has to make the very difficult decision of joining her girlfriend for a shower. There’s just not enough time for two separate showers, she tells herself, very seriously. It wouldn’t really make much sense if she’d think about it for more than two seconds (she has the whole day to stay in and shower, really, and the showers they take together might be three times the length of a normal one), but Lucy knows they simply need each other near in moments like this one, when 12:15 is a lot closer than either of them would like and twenty more minutes by each other’s side seems like it makes a world’s difference.
They wash each other, dry each other, Lucy pulls a shirt (her shirt) over her girlfriend's head and helps her with her necklace just to get as many seconds of physical contact in as possible before they’re inevitably separated again for what feels like the millionth time since the start of their relationship. Ona settled on getting an Uber to the airport, and although she can admit that saying goodbye in the comfort and privacy of their London home is much preferable to doing it in a crowded airport, Lucy is not a fan of the fact that she is being deprived of driving her girlfriend there herself, having Ona’s thigh under her hand and a chatter in her ear all the while.
Lucy stands there while Ona zips up her suitcase, and ties up the laces on her shoes, and then - that’s that. Ready to go. They’ve had a while together now, a vacation and a couple of days in London behind them, and now it’s just over, just like that, and the next time they know for sure they’re seeing each other is in December. Lucy reaches out to adjust Ona’s collar and tries to look like she’s not a second away from bursting into tears. Ona looks her in the eyes and doesn’t hesitate for a moment to pull her girlfriend into her arms. Lucy has to admit to herself that her efforts at a poker face were clearly not enough.
“I hate this part,” Lucy gets out, before Ona says something sweet, because she always does, and then Lucy will really cry and then she’s not getting anything out anymore.
“Me, too. But it’s worth it. And we’re really good at this, and it’s going to be fine.” Lucy has heard these words a thousand times, and she knows they’re true. But the ache is still there, just as it has been a thousand times before, gnawing at her heart as she pulls away and kisses Ona goodbye.
…
They are really good at this. They do everything they're supposed to, really. They've always worked well as a team, and long distance is just another outlet for that. They communicate better than they ever have, tell each other everything that could possibly become an issue in the long run. They always make sure they have something to look forward to together, and always have a date set to see each other, even if it's months away. They’ve done a lot of work on their own, too, to make sure that being without the other most of the time wouldn’t prevent them making the most out of their own lives, following their own paths. They do it all, follow every piece of advice, and it works. It really does, they're basically professionals at this by now.
It does not make the goodbyes any easier whatsoever.
Lucy bangs her head on the front door seconds after it closes. She goes into the living room, and it looks so empty without Ona’s clothes draped on the sofa, Ona’s phone laying on the coffee table. How is it so difficult every single time?
Getting used to living together again, even for a couple of days, is so easy - they’ve done it before, and it’s just a matter of falling into the rhythm again. She also knows that getting used to long distance again won’t be too difficult either. They’ve done that, too, even before Lucy’s move to Chelsea, and they have gotten used to it again, so many times. Too many times. But this does not stop the ache from clawing up her throat, running down her legs, enveloping her fully.
She misses her. What a strangely simple word for such a complicated emotion. There’s no pain quite like it - Lucy knows a lot about pain, and a lot of it is very straight-forward. The fears that come with it, maybe not so much, but at least it all feels somewhat rational. But Lucy knows that she’ll be happy enough seeing her girlfriend’s face through her phone screen, and she knows that realistically, with her injured anyway, she’ll be squeezing in a visit sooner rather than later. But it does not stop the ache from forcing her to collapse onto the sofa and let out a few tears she’s desperately been holding in.
…
Lucy’s gone into the kitchen, to get a glass of water and cry a bit more about not seeing any of Ona’s things laying around anymore - when she spots something of Ona’s, laying around.
Lucy: When’s your flight to Mexico again??
It’s a bit ridiculous. They’ve never been quite this desperate before. But she has a good excuse: the T-shirt she threw at Ona earlier has been left abandoned on the kitchen counter, and it obviously needs to be delivered back to her as soon as possible, by hand, or perhaps on Lucy’s body. And to be fair, it might be ridiculous, but it would work. Ona needs to be back in Barcelona, with the team, but Lucy just got a notification telling her that tomorrow’s session with the physio was postponed, and as she maps out her schedule for the next three days in her head, she realises there’s nothing really holding her down in London.
Ona: The 19th, I think?
Lucy: Are you very busy with the team right now or
Ona: I mean, not really
Ona: Not any more than usual
Ona: Why?
Lucy: Can I come over
Lucy: It’s a bit silly but my physio got pushed to Sunday
Lucy: And I really miss you
It wasn’t long ago, Lucy thinks, that she would’ve felt a bit insecure being so straight-forward like this. But she knows by now that Ona’s a direct communicator who appreciates the transparency just as much as the affection. She also remembers looking at Ona and seeing that same pesky heartache in her eyes, and it’s delightful but not surprising when Lucy glances down at her phone and sees the notification come through.
Ona: Omg
Ona: Of course
Ona: Could’ve flown back together today💔
Lucy would dwell on this, imagine a version of this morning where they could pack up and leave together, but that doesn’t happen, because no train of thought could slow her down from reaching for her laptop and booking the first ticket to Barcelona for tomorrow morning that she can get her hands on. If anything can make her pause for a moment, it’s the prospect of having to relive the misery she’d felt this morning - but the thought is quickly squashed. It’s worth it. And it’s going to be fine. Lucy knows it to be true.
…
Lucy lets herself in with all the excitement in the world. If nothing can stop the heartache of separation, then nothing can definitely stop the feeling of pure exhilaration flowing through her veins every time she’s seconds away from seeing Ona again. She’s greeted almost immediately by a little black-white-gray ball of fur, and although sitting down to play with Coco is tempting, nothing can stop her from her mission now.
She peers into the kitchen, where Ona is behind the stove rushing to set some pasta to boil before making a beeline straight into Lucy’s arms.
They hold each other, for a while, before Lucy pulls back to show Ona the T-shirt she’s wearing. “Special delivery,” she grins, and Ona’s face lights up. “What a good-looking delivery man,” Ona says, before finally connecting their lips. Lucy feels like she’s back home, like the world has clicked into place again.
“Missed you,” Ona whispers against her lips once they’ve separated. “It’s been a day,” Lucy responds, which is met by a shove to her shoulder. They’ve played this teasing game so many times before that she knows Ona won’t bother to point out how Lucy is the one who planned this whole trip. As expected, she just pulls back, gives Lucy the most furrowed brow she can manage, and waits for the inevitable. “Missed you so much, baby,” she’s rewarded with, followed up with another kiss, and another, and Lucy hopes the kisses never stop coming.
They’re interrupted by the pasta water boiling over behind them, and Lucy gets flashbacks to the alarms from yesterday, except this time there’s a warm lunch and a dog walk and a restaurant reservation and a night in bed together all waiting for them. They break apart, but Lucy finds she can’t be too mad about it this time.
…
They have dinner, and it tastes like coming home. Lucy’s definitely someone who’s excited to try new food, but once she finds something she really likes, it can be hard to wean her off it - which is exactly how they end up with a pan of paella, with the big red prawns she’s always going on about. To her defense, just the smell of it brings her back to her last season in Barcelona, which is something Lucy always enjoys being nostalgic about - there’s a lot of warmth, joy, good friends, and Ona attached to those memories, and yet the pang she feels in her heart at the thought of it doesn’t really last long when she remembers the reasons she left and concedes that she was right to do so. It was the best move for her body and this stage of her career, really, and she can feel the benefits of it, and reflecting on that leaves her feeling much lighter than before.
She tells Ona as much - tells her about Chelsea, how she’s excited to be back, for her leg to heal, how she loves the team and how sure she is that they really can achieve even more than they did next season. Ona tells her everything, too, starting with Barcelona’s upcoming trip to Mexico and ending with the latest gossip in the squad’s group chat. Lucy’s genuinely happy for her, and she can feel how excited Ona is for her, too. It’s strange, she supposes - both of them seem to be exactly where they’re meant to be, so why are they still so far apart?
When they finally stumble home from dinner, late into the night, they are very giggly. Most of it can be blamed on the wine, but they are just very, very happy to see each other, too. Alcohol only makes them touchier, and they collapse onto the couch, trying their best to kiss each other but grinning too wide half the time. They settle for cuddles, for snuggling in so close to each other that the only way to get closer would be to physically fuse into one. Lucy’s lying on the couch, and Ona is sprawled on top of her, with their legs tangled together, Ona’s head on Lucy’s heartbeat, and Ona’s hand in Lucy’s as she fidgets with it gently.
They lie like that for a while, soaking each other up. Lucy’s the one who breaks the silence, in the end. It is not surprising, because there’s not a thing in the world she could keep from her girlfriend, even if she tried.
“I really did miss you, you know. The second you left. It’s starting to feel silly.” Lucy sighs and interlocks their fingers. “Is it going to be like this forever? Shouldn’t I be used to it by now?”
Ona thinks for a while, to get her words in order. Lucy is ready to give her all the time in the world.
“I don’t think so. I think… we might be good at it, but we’re not meant to be apart, not really. I think it’s just a sign that our future is together.” Ona looks up at her with all the adoration in the world. She says it like Lucy needs to hear it, but also in a way that makes it clear that she needs to hear said out loud it just as much. “So no, it’s not going to be like this forever, because one day we won’t be having to say goodbye like this anymore.”
It's so simple. Not anything Lucy doesn't know already.
But hearing Ona say it suddenly makes everything make sense. It tells her hey, it's okay to feel like this, and it reminds her that there is an end in sight. It tells her that it's not only Lucy who daydreams about their house somewhere in the south of Spain, with their kids and their dogs and Ona, but that her girlfriend feels all of this too. And it makes everything plaguing Lucy's heart make a lot more sense, and she knows that, for her logic-fueled brain, that's the first step to feeling a little bit lighter next time they have to say goodbye.
Lucy squeezes the fingers wrapped around her own, a wordless gesture to show just how much Ona's words mean to her.
“I wish that day was today,” Lucy says after thinking for a while.
“No, you don't,” is what she's met with. “You love football, and you love it at Chelsea, and you know this very well.”
Lucy hates that she's right. “I know. I just wish things could be simpler.”
“One day they will be.”
Lucy takes these words and folds them up neatly, close to her chest. One day. And she supposes, now that she’s thinking about it, that despite the difficulties that come with it, there is something beautiful about what they have going on right now - about making it work 700 miles apart, about these little trips they squeeze in for just a night or two together, about putting in the effort to stay close and grow even closer, about choosing each other even when it's hard, without a second thought. Lucy decides, then, to stop pouting for a minute and soak it all up, even if it feels a bit ridiculous.
She somehow manages to pull Ona in even closer than she was before. “I know. And I'm so excited to work towards that, with you.”