Unrivaled - Alessia Russo

It had been weeks since I had last seen Alessia  and it's sucked but every time my phone buzzed just as it's doing right now on the counter my heart can't help but beat a little quicker. I grab it quickly, already knowing who it is.

"Hi," Alessia's voice came through, soft and warm.

"Hey," I said, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face.

"It's loud here," she said, and I could hear the faint roar of a stadium in the background. "We're just about to head out for warmups."

"Big day," I teased, leaning back against the wall. "Madrid's... no joke."

"They're good, but we're ready." There was a pause, and then her voice softened. "I wish you could be here."

"Me too," I admitted, glancing at the clock. "But I'll be watching, even if it's just from the locker room."

"You better," she said with a mock-serious tone. "And I want a full analysis afterward."

"Deal," I said, chuckling. "Just do me a favor and kick there ass?"

"Always."

The sound of her teammates calling her name echoed through the line.

"Gotta go," she said quickly. "Good luck tonight, Izzi."

"You too, Less. You'll kill it."

The line went dead, but her voice lingered in my mind.

Hours later, I was in the locker room, the energy buzzing as coach walked us through the final tactics. I'd watched Alessia's game on my phone earlier, a 3-1 win for Arsenal, with her scoring twice. Watching her celebrate on the screen had filled me with pride—and longing.

Now, it was my turn.

The crowd was deafening as we stepped onto the pitch. Fans waved their flags, their chants reverberating through the stadium. I glanced around, taking in the sea of blaugrana, and then, almost instinctively, my gaze drifted to the stands.

Almost as if something —or someone— was pulling me in...

The whistle blew, and the game was on.

The first few minutes were a blur of passes and probing runs. The other team was compact, their defense organized, but we moved the ball with precision. Aitana and Keira were running the midfield, threading passes through gaps that barely existed.

In the 14th minute, Alexia received the ball on the left wing, feinted past her marker, and sent a cross into the box. I timed my run perfectly, rising above the defender and heading the ball into the bottom corner.

The crowd erupted, and my teammates mobbed me. I couldn't help it—I glanced toward the stands. That's when I saw her. Alessia, standing beside Leah, clapping and grinning.

My heart skipped a beat.

Alexia noticed and gave me a nudge as we jogged back to the center circle. "Focus," she said, smirking.

I nodded, but my mind was racing. She's here...

By halftime, we were up 3-0. Alexia had scored a stunning volley, and Salma had dribbled past three defenders before slotting the ball home. The team was flying, but I wasn't done yet.

Coaches halftime talk was brief—keep the tempo high, stay aggressive, and don't let up.

The second half started with a bang. In the 48th minute, I intercepted a loose pass in the midfield, drove toward the box, and unleashed a shot from 25 yards out. The ball curled into the top corner, leaving the goalkeeper rooted to the spot.

I barely heard the crowd as my teammates swarmed me again. All I could think about was Alessia's reaction.

By the 70th minute, we were 5-0 up. Salma added her second, and Aitana got on the scoresheet with a rocket from outside the box. The opposition looked defeated, but we kept pushing.

In the 83rd minute, Alexia slipped a through ball into the box, and I rounded the keeper before tapping it into the net. Hat trick.

I ran toward the corner flag, arms outstretched, and the stadium roared in approval. As I turned back toward the center circle, I caught Alessia's eye again. She was on her feet, her smile brighter than any spotlight.

Something in me shifted then. It wasn't just pride or joy. It was deeper—a feeling I'd never known before.

The final whistle blew, the scoreboard reading 7-0, and the Camp Nou erupted in cheers. My teammates crowded around me, offering high fives and hugs, their energy as electric as the stadium. I joined in the celebrations, smiling and laughing, but my mind was elsewhere.

She was here.

Alexia's arm wrapped around my shoulders as we began our lap around the pitch to thank the fans. "You've got somewhere to be," she said quietly, her smirk barely contained.

"Where?"

"She's in the tunnel. Go."

I didn't wait another second. I broke away from the group, jogging toward the edge of the pitch, my heart pounding harder than it had during the game. The tunnel loomed ahead, its shadows a stark contrast to the bright lights of the field.

And then I saw her.

Alessia was leaning against the wall, her Arsenal jacket zipped up, her blonde hair slightly disheveled. When she spotted me, her face lit up, and the noise of the stadium faded into nothing.

I didn't think—I just ran.

Reaching her, I stopped short, breathless, my pulse racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the game.

"You were..." she started, but I didn't let her finish.

I closed the space between us, my hands cupping her face as I pressed my lips to hers. She froze for a second—just a second—before kissing me back.

The world fell away.

Her hands found their way to my waist, and I pulled her closer, the weight of the past weeks—missing her, thinking about her—melting away in the warmth of this moment.

When we finally pulled apart, her cheeks were flushed, and her smile was wide.

"You were amazing," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant cheers.

"So were you," I replied, my forehead resting against hers.

She laughed softly. "Leah's going to kill me for making her wait."

I smiled, my thumb brushing her cheek. "Worth it."

She tilted her head, studying me for a moment. "You know I've been watching you play for weeks, and I thought you couldn't get any better. But tonight..."

"Tonight was different," I admitted. "You were here."

Her eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

"Dinner after?" she asked, her voice hopeful.

I nodded. "Definitely."

Leah rolled her eyes dramatically. "Alright, can you two save this for later? Some of us are tired."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Thanks for coming, Leah."

"Anything for Keira—and maybe a little for you," she teased.

I go to retort  but from behind me, Patris voice rang out, cutting through the moment. "Izzi! You coming?"

Alessia stifled a laugh, her hand brushing mine as I took a step back. "Go celebrate. You earned it."

I hesitated, wanting to stay, but the tug of my team was strong. "I'll see you after?"

"I'll be waiting," she promised.

As I jogged back toward my teammates, I felt lighter, like I was carrying more than just the pride of a win. For the first time in my life, I wasn't just playing for the game.

I was playing for her.